Note: This story is quite a twisted tale, becoming more sinister as it progresses. What starts out as a seemingly miraculous answer to a desperate wish slowly turns into something much darker. It plays around with some familiar themes but adds some new twists. And the transformations are as cruel as they are sexy. If you’re looking for some good, clean humiliation fun and unwanted male body transformations, then you’ve come to the right place!

The story was inspired by a pic from Gym Junkie Muscle‘s Patreon page. I recently subscribed to his site and LOVE it. Here’s the pic below:

Quick Links:

• Chapter 1 – Scroll down
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3
• Chapter 4
• Chapter 5
• Chapter 6
• Chapter 7
• Chapter 8 – posted 25 May 2024
• Chapter 9 – Conclusion, posted 26 May 2024

Themes: Himbofication, cock growth, butt growth, clueless, straight-to-gay, cock shrinking, steroids, neutering, dumber, humiliation, silicone, tattoos, muscle growth, hair growth, hair loss, baldness, age progression, hypnosis, mind control

***

Chapter 1

Jeremy Daniels celebrated his twenty-fifth birthday alone. Sitting at the little dining table off the kitchen, he gazed forlornly down at the cake he purchased for himself. It was blazing with twenty five candles but he felt desolate despite the celebratory appearance of the cake. Taking a deep breath, he blew out the candles and made a wish fervently from the bottom of his heart. The wish? It was to not be alone again on his twenty-sixth birthday.

***

He awoke the next morning with a screaming ache in his groin. Moaning, he reached down and tried to reposition his too-tight boxers only to yank his hands back in alarm.

“What the fuck?!” he rumbled in a strangely deep baritone. His boxers were stretched beyond capacity, holding his crotch and ass in a vise grip.

He propped himself up on his elbows and got the first unencumbered view of his vastly changed body. A low bellow emerged from deep in his chest as his mind blanked.

“Holy fuckin’ shit!” he brayed, eyes bugging out. “What the fuck’s going on?”

His formerly slightly pudgy, undefined body with its spindly legs and skeletal arms had completely changed overnight. Now, every muscle had plumped up to capacity and every ounce of fat had disappeared, leaving those large muscles precisely delineated under freshly-tanned (and tattooed) skin.

His arms had grown into an impressive pair of guns, his sizable biceps accented by bold, black tattooed sleeves. His pecs were perfectly round and full, protruding from his chest in a suggestive manner. Suggestive because the tribal tattoo theme of his sleeves continued, completely covering his upper chest. Abstract, black spirals swirled around his pectorals, circling ever closer to the unmistakable center: His newly pierced and distinctly perky nipples. Below his nubile tits, his abdominals were striated cords running in a ladder downward to his narrow waist. He blinked at the black, flaming sun tattooed around his outie belly button. 

His hips were so narrow! That said, his waist expanded dramatically below the gutters of his hip flexors. Talk about quads! They were almost as wide as his decidedly broad shoulders. And speaking of those shoulders, his delts looked like a pair of bowling balls stuck on the ends of his shoulders and he could tell from how hard it was to turn his head that his traps had engulfed his neck.

What really drew his attention, though, was the eye-popping bulge tenting out his beleaguered pair of gray boxers. The outline of his cock more closely resembled an anaconda than a penis and his testicles were mashed against the straining fabric, swollen larger than a hefty pair of grapefruit. 

“Fuck! Oh, Jesus, fuck!” he moaned, confusion instantly morphing into delirious ecstasy. “My cock’s HUGE!”

Jeremy had always below-averagely endowed with a three-inch pecker when flaccid and just under five inches when erect. It had been of average thickness and being circumcised didn’t help because that only drew attention to its stubby size. His dick had been a disappointment, both to him and the three women he’d managed to bed over the years. They had invariably left disappointed when they discovered that he wasn’t any more interesting out of his clothing than in it.

Now, though, all that had changed and he’d been gifted with a truly miraculous and hefty tubesteak between his giant thighs.

Almost lost to his awareness was his total absence of body hair. His formerly dust-colored blond fur had disappeared, leaving only the luster of smooth, blemish-free skin. His fresh tan was deep and dark like burnt honey, drawing attention to its soft suppleness. When he reached down and slid his hand over his taut and ridged belly, he moaned with pleasure. His skin felt like silken suede.

Seeing his huge member, he was overcome by the driving desire to liberate himself from his tight boxers and hold this new masterpiece in his enlarged hands. He wrestled with the too-tight waistband but it didn’t budge; the elastic was taut as a drawn bowstring.

Groaning in frustration, he struggled out of bed, discovering that his bulked-up body was a lot heavier than before and it took work to keep his balance when his wide feet landed on the floor. He stood there, waving back and forth, gazing in wonder down at himself. He couldn’t believe how much he’d changed!

He loved it.

He fucking loved it!

His head was muzzy from sleep–not to mention a significant loss of intellect–and he had hard time processing figuring out the cause behind his transformation. After a while, though, he remembered his birthday wish from the night before. A dim bulb went off in his thick skull and he thunked his hand against his forehead. His wish had been answered! He would never be alone again!

With a bod like this, the babes wouldn’t be able to stay away from him!

He grinned stupidly, thrusting out his engorged chest and crotch.

He was a fuckin’ stud!

Why hadn’t he wished for this sooner?

***

He was padding toward the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors to cut off his strangling pair of underpants when he felt something strange bouncing around in back. What was that? Sure, his enlarged muscles felt different but they also somehow felt natural, like they were meant to be on his new, sturdier frame. Plus, it helped that he was still the same height as before. As he got used to their bigger size, he realized they didn’t weigh him down, they just made him feel bigger…badder…sexier. A win-win-win!  He might be stacked with muscles but they were shapely and firm, pleasingly plump, without being too much. Yeah, he loved this new body! Fuckin’ loved it!

There was that one thing going on behind him, however, that felt distinctly odd.

Wump wump wump wump wump.

With every step, he felt it.

Something big was attached to his behind.

His brow furrowed as he struggled to figure out what this new sensation was. Finally, he craned his bull neck and peered behind himself to take a look. He gasped.

His butt!

It was so big!

He stared askance at those incredibly ripe mounds that were still jiggling even though he was standing still. Encased in his too-small boxers, each globe was perfectly outlined under the sheer, gray fabric.

They were precisely symmetrical, bulging and rounded and gravity-defying. They bubbled off of him like, well, like big bubbles. Muscular and supple. Slightly blocky. Slightly squared. But undeniably rounded and also soft. When he reached back and cupped them in his hands, he shivered. The sensation was so delicious he almost drooled. They were so big and heavy and yet so soft and perky!

Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngh!

He straightened, embarrassed. Why was he getting off on touching his butt? It was gay and he most definitely wasn’t gay. He dropped his hands and continued his march to the kitchen, trying to ignore the plump orbs bouncing along in back of him.

A strange smell assailed his nostrils as he entered the kitchen. Swinging his head around because it was hard to rotate his neck with all of the new muscles, he furrowed his brow. Huh? What was that? And why were all of the houseplants dead?

His mouth fell open in a gape as he struggled to understand what had happened to his apartment. The air smelled stuffy and mildewy. The plants were dead and dessicated in their pots. And the fridge…

“Ugh! Yuck!”

He had to cover his nose when he opened the door of the refrigerator. There was no light and the air inside was fetid. Apparently, it had lost power and all of the food inside was rotten. He slammed the door shut, brain laboring to figure out what had happened. It didn’t make sense! How could his plants die and all of the food in his fridge go bad overnight? He swiveled around and beheld the remnants of his birthday cake on the kitchen counter. The cake was completely dried out like it had been left out for weeks.

“What the fuck is goin’ on?”

He was distracted from trying to puzzle out the mystery by the screaming pain in his groin. He had to get his boxers off NOW! Rummaging through the kitchen drawers, he finally located a pair of scissors and, holding them up triumphantly, staggered into the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, he promptly forgot about the dead plants and moldy food in the fridge and he finally was able to take in the full brunt of his incredible changes. He blinked at the pair of startlingly blue eyes staring back at him. (His eyes had been brown before.) They were made even more noticeable against the contrast of his deeply tanned skin. His hair was styled in a cut that was both shaggy and tight, his luxuriously thick, brown hair sticking up in back with bangs that swept down alluringly in front. Occasionally, a lock would cover his left eye, making him look especially devilish and handsome.

His face was wide and smooth, save for the stubble clinging to his square jaw. His ears were tiny and pierced with diamond studs. The bold, black tribal tattoos continued their march upward, smothering his neck and throat and curling up to the sides of his head. A black cord hung around his neck with a gleaming white shark’s tooth pendant draped between his burgeoning pecs. His shoulders were the widest shoulders he’d ever seen, so broad and muscular that it took his breath away just to look at them. And his abdomen was chiseled! Fuck, every one of his abs jutted out like a miniature shelf, each ‘shelf’ growing narrower as they descended towards his wasp-thin waist.

How was it even possible to have a body this perfect?

He couldn’t wait one moment longer.

He had to touch his cock!

The giant bulge tenting out his underwear was just too tantalizing! With shaking hands, he reached down and, snipping carefully so he didn’t injure himself, sliced off his boxers. They tore open with a snap and a cock of monumental proportions sprang out like a meaty jack-in-the-box. Not to be outdone, his smooth, pendulous bull-sized testicles spilled out below it, swaying ponderously from side to side. 

His jaw dropped.

His cock was nearly two feet long!

And thicker than his forearm!

And topped by a tightly fluted foreskin!

The ginormous schlong flopped down, slapping against his knees and nestling against his monstrous pair of low-hangers.

He couldn’t help it.

Another long, low moan erupted from deep in his cavernous chest.

“UNNNNNNNNNNGHHHHHH!”

He touched it, marveling at its heft and substance. So heavy! So thick! So long! So fucking manly!

Fuck! Oh, fuck! 

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!

He’d become a god.

A fucking stud of a god.

Overnight.

Everything had changed!

His life would never be the same.

***

“Fuck. This really sucks.”

What was wrong with his dick?

He was turned on as fuck by his new body but, no matter how hard he fapped his big tool between both hands, it didn’t get hard. No, it stayed soft and flaccid, hanging down listlessly between his mounded thighs as soon as he dropped it.

His brow furrowed.

How was this possible? He was so horny he could fuck a hole in the wall but his cock was unresponsive. He’d never been so excruciatingly aroused before and unable to get hard. As disappointed as he was with his previous pecker, it had never failed him. Quite the opposite! Unable to find a woman to make love to, his arousal was chronically set on high and he walked around with a chub in his pants most of the day. Thankfully, it was so small that no one could tell.

And now that he’d been miraculously gifted a godlike penis, it refused to get even slightly firm.

What was the matter?

Was he missing something?

Wait.

What was that?

Lost in the delirium of discovering his cock was now the size of a club, he’d missed a couple other changes in his crotch area.

His pubes were gone.

He could live with that. Yeah, that was no big deal. He actually preferred his crotch smooth. It made his tool look even bigger and the skin was so soft and sensitive. He rubbed his baby-smooth pubes, shivering with delight.

But he could do without the tattoo.

And the tan lines.

Tattooed, black letters proclaimed in a bold arc across his crotch, “SIZE QUEEN.”

‘Size queen’? What did that mean?

He’d never heard the term before but something about it didn’t sit well with him. For one thing, he wasn’t a queen. It should have read, ‘SIZE KING’ because he had a truly king-sized cock but, no, that’s not what the tattoo said.

“Size queen?” he repeated aloud. “What the fuck?”

And those tan lines!

His entire body was tanned deep, caramel brown except for a tiny stark white triangle over his groin and white lines reaching up to his hip bones and reaching back around his waist. He turned his hip to the mirror and stared at his newly inflated ass cheeks, groaning with dismay when realized the white lines arced over the mounded contours of his buttocks and descended into his hairless cleft.

Thong tan lines?

He frowned.

He never wore a thong!

He wouldn’t!

Couldn’t!

No self-respecting straight guy would ever put on a thong. It wasn’t just humiliating, it was wrong!

His frown turned into a scowl as he stared at the unwanted thong lines emblazoned on his unnaturally round and perky bottom. The longer he stared at that big bottom, the more he hated it. He loved everything else about this big, beautiful, new body…just not the butt. Why did he have to be cursed with such a large and salacious ass? How the fuck would he find pants to cover it?

And why didn’t his cock work?

He tore his gaze away from his juicy butt cheeks to look back at his big pecker. Gosh, it really was large! Hiding it would also prove to be difficult. Could he even find pants with a crotch big enough to hold it all? Somehow, though, he couldn’t make himself worry too much about that. No, given a choice between displaying his bulge or displaying his big booty cheeks, he’d take the bulge any day.

He shook his head, still frowning, and was distracted when both his stomach and alarm clock went off at the same time. Well, his stomach didn’t go off so much as rumble insistently with hunger. The combination of the twin urgencies sharpened his dull mind, making him realize he had to eat and get ready for work. Looking down at his bulked up body, he knew none of his old clothing would fit him. He’d have to stop by a clothing store and purchase a whole new wardrobe if he ever wanted to be presentable at work again.

But were there any clothing stores open at this early hour?

Huffing with annoyance, he wobbled down the hall to his bedroom and grabbed his phone off the nightstand, only to stare at it in consternation.

“Huh? What the fuck?”

Why were there so many missed calls? And voicemails? And texts? He scrolled through his texts, alarmed by the increasingly stern warnings from the landlord, bank and utility companies. They read:

>>Your rent is ninety days past due.<<< 

>>Your Honda Civic has been repossessed due to nonpayment.<<

>>Your power and gas service have been disconnected.<<

The one that really got his attention, though, was a voicemail from the rental company stating that eviction proceedings would commence on May 12. He glanced at the calendar on his iPhone, brow lifting in bewilderment when he saw today’s date: Monday, May 12, 2025.

How was that fucking possible? It should have been February 15, 2025. His birthday, somewhat ironically given his unwanted bachelorhood, fell on Valentine’s Day. That fact only made his birthdays more painful. No, he knew it was February 15, not May 12. Something must be wrong with his phone! He sure as fuck wasn’t any Rip fuckin’ Van Winkle! He didn’t fall asleep for three months!

All he had to do was glance out the window, though, to realize it wasn’t a glitch with his phone: The trees were covered in new leaves and the birds were singing cheerfully. When he’d gone to bed the night before, it had been a cold, bleak February evening. Now it was full-on springtime!

Poor Jeremy! He woke up in a new, beautiful, perfect body only to have his life crumble around him. His chest clenched with dread when he realized that he’d been absent from his job for nearly three months. Had they fired him? Did he even still have a job? Fuck, he’d worked so hard to land it, too! That fucking job had been the only good thing about his life. But now…

“Fuck! FUCK! FUCK!”

***

Chapter 2

After sagging on the bed for an hour, mountainous shoulders hunched in defeat, he realized he didn’t have a choice. He had to get to work if he had any hope of salvaging his life and career. Being a ripped muscle god was great but it didn’t put food in his hungry belly or a roof over his ditzy head.

Before he could go to work, though, he had to find clothes that fit him because there was no way he could squeeze into his old ones. He sighed, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it, looking for a clothing store that was open. (If he’d been smarter, he might have wondered how his phone still had battery power after three months…but, as you’ve no doubt noticed, poor Jeremy was no longer the sharpest tool in the shed.)

There were no men’s clothing stores open that early in the morning. He scrolled through his iPhone with increasing desperation, finally finding one that opened at ten. That would put him at work over an hour late but what choice did he have? He needed clothes! Besides, if he’d really been absent from work for three months, would another hour really make that much difference?

He staggered out of his apartment a half hour later dressed in the only clothes that still fit him. When he hauled open his front door, he discovered his mail slot was overflowing and there was a glaring, red eviction notice stapled beside the door. 

Panicked, he gulped air for a few moments to calm himself. He couldn’t get evicted! He had nowhere to go! His parents were scientists doing research out in the ocean and his only brother had a job as a ranger at a provincial park in northern Canada. Truthfully, though, he was a pariah in his family, considered a chronic failure and underachiever. It was telling that, of all the missed calls and voicemails on his phone, none of them had been from his family. They simply weren’t there for him and never had been. This was another reason he led such a grim life.

If he lost his apartment, he’d be out on the street. 

Fuck fuck fuck!

He had to get his job back! 

That was the only way. Maybe he could get his employer to send something to his landlord, assuring them that Jeremy would pay his back rent? It was a dim hope but it was all he had. Plus, his new body buoyed him, soothing his rattled nerves with its generous bulk. He had to press on. As renewed determination settled over him, he straightened and marched away from his apartment. Things would get better. They had to, especially now that he was a god among men!

When he showed up at the clothing store at ten o’clock on the dot, the sales clerk surveyed him with obvious disdain. Self-conscious, Jeremy looked down at himself. The only clothes in his wardrobe that still fit his new body were a pair of gray sweatpants and a hoodie. Both had been on the baggy side before but now the cotton material clung to his enhanced frame, accentuating every muscle…and his long, thick cock and hefty balls. They thrust out before him, distending the crotch of the sweats in a lurid manner. 

His cheeks colored as the clerk pointed to a store across the street. “Oopsy!” he said with false cheer. “I think somebody’s in the wrong store!” His tone became icy. “I believe you’ll be more…at home-o…over there.”

Jeremy followed his finger, brow furrowing. The store across the street had a bunch of male mannequins in the window wearing exceedingly skimpy attire. “Huh? Why–?” he started to say but the clerk was already closing the door.

He stood on the sidewalk with slumped shoulders, feeling both confused and defeated. Why did the clerk treat him like he was a child? And why did he think he should shop at the store across the street? It didn’t look like it sold business attire. He looked back only to find the clerk pointing insistently at the place across the street. There was a sneer on his lips.

Jeremy had no choice but to wander over and see if there was anything that would fit him. It was already late and he didn’t want to waste any more time getting to work. He had to hold onto his job! He waddled across the street.

“May I help you?” a crisp voice asked as he pushed open the door. Inside, the place was filled with racks of clothing, much of it very brief. Feathers and sequins predominated on one side and leather and studs figured heavily on the other. Jeremy swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. Something about this didn’t feel right.

“Hon, what can I do for you?” the voice asked again. “You look lost.”

Jeremy turned to find himself staring down at a thin, young man with very precisely plucked eyebrows and knowing brown eyes. His black hair was done up in a high pompadour and he was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a rainbow-colored shirt.

“I’m Arvind,” the clerk said, holding out a thin hand. “Lemme help ya out, hon.”

“I…uh, ya know, don’t know if dis is da right place,” Jeremy mumbled, reluctantly returning the handshake. He didn’t care much for Arvind’s affected behavior. Plus, the way he was eying him made him feel uncomfortable. Why did Arvind keep staring at his crotch?

Undeterred by Jeremy’s hesitancy, Arvind said, “I can assure you, hon, that you’re most definitely in the right place.” He stepped back and, folding his arms, studied Jeremy’s body in a very lascivious manner. “Hmmm, oh, yes! I can definitely help you! What’re you into, hon? Leather? Schoolboy outfits? Drag?” He gestured to the racks and displays. “As you can see, we got it all!”

Alarmed, Jeremy started backing away but Arvind took him by the arm and steered him deeper into the store, pulling various items off the racks. Trying to stop him, Jeremy protested, “I-I-I, uh, don’t need that kinda stuff. I need clothes for…for…,” he was so nervous he couldn’t think of the word. Finally, he managed to stammer, “my bidness.”

“I’ll bet,” Arvind replied in a droll tone, eyes dropping down once again to Jeremy’s enormous bulge. “That bidness really needs something to show it off, doesn’t it?”

Jeremy followed his gaze, struggling to comprehend what was going on. “I don’t get it. Whaddaya mean?”

“Oh, hon,” Arvind soothed, running his hand up and down Jeremy’s bulging bicep. “You just sit back and relax, Ok? Let Mama do all the work!”

***

Jeremy exited the store an hour later feeling disoriented. He looked down at himself, glad that Arvind was able to find business clothes that fit him…sort of. He had on khaki pants, a suit coat, a dress shirt and a tie. Plus, Arvind had found a pair of black glasses frames, placing them on his nose and clapping his hands together. “There!” he’d cooed. “Now you look like an adorably fuckable Clark Kent! It goes with the thong.”

Yes, Arvind had talked him into wearing a thong.

Jeremy hung his head in shame as he felt the string rubbing against his tender poo-hole. He had to admit, though, that the pouch held his man parts really well. It was red and blue with the Superman logo across the pouch, although the ‘S’ was stretched so badly that it was nearly transparent. He’d tried to beg off wearing it but Arvind insisted, “You gotta have sumthin’ on under the clothes or the cops’ll close the club down, hon! I know it’s old-fashioned but it’s the law.” 

Club? Jeremy wondered. What club? Was Arvind referring to his penis?

It didn’t really matter. The important thing was that he was now dressed appropriately for work. 

Sort of. 

The pants and shirt were awfully tight and made from strange material that felt kind of cheap and flimsy. When he examined the suit coat, he saw that the fabric had been printed in the design of a suit rather than stitched from pieces of material. Even the seams were printed on. It seemed to be made mostly of Lycra. And the shirt and pants–also Lycra–were all fastened together with a series of snaps down the sides. When he’d asked Arvind about this, the clerk had rolled his eyes. “How long you been up on stage, hon? Yer awfully naive. Ask yer manager to explain if you got questions.”

Arvind had helped Jeremy out of his clothes in a changing room and brought out a measuring tape, spending a lot of time taking precise measurements of everything, including his penis and testicles.  Holding the tape down the length of his dick and then wrapping it around his giant balls, he asked,  “What’re these made of, hon? Silicone like yer ass?” He licked his lips. “Who’s yer plastic surgeon? He did an excellent job. They look almost real. Too bad they’re useless.” He waved this off with a smile, giggling, “Not that it matters. Yer only good for one thing now anyways.”

Confused by these questions–Plastic surgeon? Silicone? Huh?–Jeremy had moaned, embarrassed that he was enjoying being measured so much. He was vaguely aware that Arvind’s behavior was unprofessional but he was also a little scared of the dude and didn’t want to get on his bad side. It was easier just to go along and let him do his thing. He was the expert, right?

The only wrinkle had come when he tried to pay. His credit card was declined. “Money problems, hon?” Arvind inquired, full lips protruding in a mock pout. “You should ask yer manager for an advance. I’m sure yer good for it!”

“Huh? What’re ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Jeremy was really confused. He always paid his credit card statement in full each month. He pulled out another card but that one was declined, too. Finally, he took out the Visa card he kept for emergency purposes and heaved a sigh of relief when the charge went through.

“Yay!” Arvind said, clapping his hands together and jumping up and down. “Y’all come back soon, Ok? I got more, um, measurements I wanna take.” He winked and Jeremy blushed. 

Jeremy had stumbled out of the store, brain foggy and feeling out of sorts. It took him a moment to remember that he needed to get to work. Unfortunately, he didn’t have fare for the bus and was forced to walk. The building was more than twenty blocks away.

***

Chapter 3

It was nearly noon by the time he made it to his workplace. The day was warm and he was sweaty in the tight, Lycra pants. He was tired, too. It took a lot of effort to move his heavier body; the bouncy butt didn’t help, either. But as hard as he found it to walk, there was something besides his added mass that unnerved him: He couldn’t make himself look at women anymore. It was like they didn’t exist. He walked down the street oblivious to their presence.

That was weird enough but what alarmed him even more was he couldn’t keep his eyes off men. He found himself staring lasciviously at every guy. He’d nod and smile at the dude and then his gaze would drop suggestively down to his crotch. He would stare longingly at the man’s zipper, wondering about the size of the dick hiding in there. Was it big? How big? Cut or uncut? Thick or skinny? Veiny or smooth? Were his pubes shaved or furry? What about his nuts?

The worst part was that he hoped badly that the dude had a really big cock. The bigger the better! he would think before quickly suppressing the thought. He flushed when he felt his mutantly swollen booty cheeks clench together in expectation.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He never thought about other guys’ dicks unless it was to envy them!

A few guys caught him staring. One gave him a disgusted look and the other rolled his eyes. Another one, though, eyed the giant outline of Jeremy’s cock, eyebrows lifting. “Nice piece, bro,” he praised, smiling.

“Er, thanks! Right back atcha!” Jeremy replied, cheeks flaming as he salivated over the obvious bulge in the dude’s shorts. He couldn’t understand why his heart was suddenly pounding in his chest and his butt was on fire. This wasn’t normal! He scurried away, butt cheeks flapping behind him.

At long last, he stood on the sidewalk outside the skyscraper that was home to the insurance company where he worked. Sweat trickled down his back and pooled on the waistband of his thong before running down the deep cleft of his smooth buttocks. (Having no body hair meant he had nothing to wick sweat and he was clammy all over.) His body felt heavy and hot. 

Almost worse than the sweat and fatigue, though, was the fact he was extremely horny. Seeing so many hot guys on the trek over had really got him going! He was almost glad that he couldn’t get an erection because otherwise he’d be in big trouble. His crotch was already obscenely tented in the super tight pants as it was!

Lumbering up the steps, he was stopped by security. “Badge,” the guard demanded. Jeremy fished around for his wallet and held out his ID card to the man. The guy stared at it, eyes moving from the picture on the card to Jeremy’s face. “This ain’t you,” he said flatly, handing it back. “Get outta here.”

“But I werk here!” Jeremy insisted, panicking. “I ain’t lyin’! I really do!”

The man looked him up and down, a sly smile slowly creasing his lips. Finally, he held up his hands, teasing, “Alright! Alright, Princess! Dontcha worry! I’ll call HR. You juss sit back on that big, faggy butt of yers and get comfortable.”

Jeremy glared at him, annoyed. “That’s not very nice,” he said, pouting. “And I ain’t no homo.”

“Whatever, Sweetie,” the man growled, rolling his eyes. “Juss cover yerself up, will ya? I should call the cops on ya for wearing an outfit like that here. This is a place of business, not a man-whore house!”

“‘Man-whore’?” Jeremy repeated, stunned. “Whaddaya mean?” He looked down at himself, unable to understand why the man would say such a cruel thing.

 “C’mon, Cupcake!” the guard chided. “Yer clearly here to turn a trick! Why else would someone who looks like you be here wearing a faggy getup like that?”

“I AIN’T NO FAG!” Jeremy shouted, anger getting the better of him. He clenched his hands, standing up on his tiptoes to get in the man’s face. He was about to yell more when a young man exited the elevator and, noticing the altercation, came over to investigate.

“What’s wrong, Bart?” he asked the security guard. “Trouble?”

Jeremy looked over at him and sighed with relief. It was McClellan Muñoz, the son of the owner. “Mista Muñoz!” he called out, his butt and package bouncing up and down with excitement. “It’s me! Jeremy!”

McClellan turned to him, jaw falling open. “Jeremy?!” he breathed. “Is that really you? What the fuck happened to you? We thought you were dead!”

“It’s me!” Jeremy cried, clapping his hands together. “It’s really me! Oh, Mista Muñoz, thank god yer here! Please tell dis guy,” he turned to scowl at the guard, “that I werk here. He thinks I’m an im…im…im…” He huffed in annoyance because he couldn’t think of the word. Finally, he gave up and said, “He thinks I ain’t in the right place.”

At first, McClellan hesitated. As the moments ticked by, Jeremy got distracted by McClellan’s beauty. Why had he never noticed how handsome he was before? Now, it was all he could think about. Worries about getting his job back faded as he found himself admiring McClellan. 

Tall, slim and tan, McClellan was probably in his mid thirties and exuded an air of confident maturity. His brown hair was slightly curly, long on top and oiled back. The sides of his head were shaved almost down to the skin. His ears, nose and teeth were perfect and his jaw was elegant and strong. His eyes, though, were what really got Jeremy’s attention. The color of golden honey, a mere glance from the man was enough to melt Jeremy’s heart. 

And then there was the obvious bulge in his slim, tapered pants.

Jeremy’s eyes dropped down to the tantalizing mound of goodness. He’d licked his lips before he caught himself and abruptly looked back up to McClellan’s face. He was too late, though. Both McClellan and Bart had noticed. The guard shook his head in disgust but McClellan merely smiled to himself and nodded as if pleased.

Placing a firm hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, McClellan said, “Welcome back, Jeremy! Here, why don’t you come back with me to my office? It turns out that I do have a, um, job, I want to discuss with you.”

“You do?!” Jeremy exclaimed, chest flooding with relief. He had to stop himself from hugging McClellan. “Then yer not mad at me?”

“Mad?” McClellan asked, lifting his hand to cup Jeremy’s face. “How could I ever be mad at a pretty boy like you, Jeremy?” He laughed, a strangely mirthless sound. “No, it’s not possible! Not when I have such big plans for you.”

Jeremy had to blink back tears. He didn’t even care that McClellan called him a boy; he was just so happy that he still had a job! He wouldn’t get evicted! He could go back to living his old life in a brand new, sexy body. He was the luckiest guy in the world!

When McClellan moved his hand down to his butt and pushed him toward the elevator, Jeremy looked back at Bart the security guard and smirked with victory.

***

McClellan led him up the elevator and through the hallways of the company. Even though Jeremy had worked there as an adjuster for two years, it felt new to him. Maybe it was because he was new to his body or maybe it was the way people gaped at him as he strutted by, McClellan’s hand resting on his shoulder? He didn’t know why but he had a distinct feeling that he was on the verge of something big, a truly life changing experience. He thrust back his shoulders and smiled munificently at his coworkers. McClellan was taking him, Jeremy Daniels, to his office to discuss an important job! They must be so jealous!

“Mr. Lewis,” McClellan told his young secretary when they reached his office on the top floor, “please hold all my calls and don’t let anyone disturb us.” He turned and smiled broadly at Jeremy. “Jeremy and I have important business to attend to.”

Jeremy sneered down at Mr. Lewis, an oily rat of a man he’d never liked, and followed McClellan into the gleaming office. Once inside, McClellan drew the blinds, blocking Mr. Lewis’ view, and gestured toward the sofa beside his desk. Jeremy was too starstruck to notice; his jaw fell open as he took in the opulent surroundings. He’d never seen an office so luxurious before. It made his little cubicle look decidedly humdrum.

“Can I get you anything, Jeremy? A beer? A Coke? Maybe a lollipop?” He chuckled to himself, turning to a little stainless steel refrigerator. He pulled out a couple of bottles of expensive beer and, twisting off the caps, handed one to Jeremy. Jeremy took it with shaking hands, scarcely able to believe his good fortune. He had to keep pinching himself! Before today, McClellan barely even acknowledged him. Now he was treating Jeremy like royalty.

McClellan sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him. He smiled up at Jeremy, eyes traveling the length of his body. “I can’t believe how different you look, Jeremy. You’re a very cute boy, you know that?” He took a swig out of his beer before setting it aside and lowering his hand to his crotch. He massaged himself, exhaling deeply as he did so.

“Uh, thanks,” Jeremy rumbled, surprised at how dumb he sounded now that his voice was so much deeper. He stood there, looking down at McClellan, uncertain what to do. Wasn’t McClellan going to talk with him about his job?

When Jeremy hesitated, McClellan patted the cushion next to him again. “C’mon, boy,” he coaxed. “Sit down and tell me what happened to you. I’m dying to hear about it. You must have quite a story to tell, showing up after three months and looking like a whole new boy.”

“Uh, I ain’t no boy,” Jeremy corrected, wobbling over and sitting down stiffly next to him. For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, the interaction felt off. He tried his best to move the conversation away from shaky ground, asking, “Didn’t ya say ya wanted to talk to me ‘bout a job?”

McClellan waved this off. “Oh, yes, of course! We’ll get to that part. Right now, though, I want to talk about you. Tell me, Jeremy! Tell me everything. How did you manage to transform yourself into such a beautiful boy?” He repositioned himself on the sofa as he said this, moving his thigh over until it was pressed against Jeremy’s. The hand on his crotch continued massaging.

Jeremy thought about moving away from him but didn’t want to offend McClellan. His future rested in the man’s hands, after all! He sat there woodenly for a moment before swallowing hard. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see McClellan moving his hand up and down over his groin. The bulge lurking down there was bigger than ever. Why was McClellan rubbing himself down there? Did he have a bad case of jock itch or something?

“Uh, well, ya know,” he began, cheeks coloring. “I, uh, sorta woke up like dis.”

“Really?” McClellan leaned forward while moving his hand onto Jeremy’s knee. He continued to massage his groin with his other hand. “How is that possible?”

Swallowing again, Jeremy badly wanted to move McClellan’s big hand off of him but he felt powerless to do so. He tried not to ignore the growing bulge in the man’s pants and stammered, “I-I-I dunno. I mean, I went to sleep last night and dis is what I looked like when I woke up!”

“But you’ve been absent from work for three months,” McClellan pointed out. “You couldn’t have just woken up like this.”

Panicked about being reminded that he’d missed so many months of work, Jeremy exclaimed, “I know but I didn’t mean to! I swear! You gots to bah-lieve when I say I juss woke like dis! The last thing I remember, it was my birthday–I was born on Valentine’s Day–an’–”

“Really?” McClellan interrupted, lips curving. “That must be why you’ve captured my heart then.”

“Huh?” Jeremy had no idea what the guy was talking about. ‘Captured his heart’? He hadn’t done anything like that! All he’d done is ask McClellan for his old job back.

“Listen, boy,” McClellan was saying, moving his hand up to loosen the cheap tie around Jeremy’s neck. “You must be awfully hot in that, um, suit. I can see how sweaty you are. Besides, a body like that isn’t meant to be covered up. Why don’t you get more comfortable, huh?” He pulled the tie off of Jeremy’s bull neck, tossing it aside. “And remove that jacket. It’s alright. I’ll do the same if it makes you feel better.” He loosened his own tie–a much more expensive silk one–and shrugged out of his suit coat before unbuttoning a few of the buttons on his dress shirt. A profusion of curly brown chest hair poured out. As soon as he was done, his hands went right back to Jeremy’s leg and his own crotch where the bulge was even larger than seconds before. 

Jeremy was transfixed despite his best efforts to resist the urge to stare at that giant bulge tenting out McClellan’s pants. He swallowed hard as he began to drool. The bigger the bulge got, the more worked up he became and soon it was all he could think about: What size of a cock was McClellan packing in there? It looked really big. Maybe almost as big as Jeremy’s own monster?

Shaking himself, Jeremy forced himself to look away. Alarm bells were going off in his thick skull but he was too dense now to figure out exactly what was going on. All he knew was that he needed to convince McClellan to let him come back to the company. 

“Uh, M-M-M-Mista Muñoz?” he stammered.

McClellan chuckled softly. “Why are you being so formal? Please, call me by my first name. I like to hear it on your lips.”

Jeremy was flushed and panting but somehow he managed to choke out, “Ok, M-M-M-McClel-lan, can I have my job back? Please? I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” McClellan repeated, watching him with a funny smile. “Really?”

Jeremy nodded solemnly. “Yeah. I’ll do anything to get my job back!”

“Take off your shirt.”

“What?” Jeremy could have sworn he hadn’t heard him right.

McClellan sighed and took matters into his own hands, stripping the tight, flimsy shirt off of Jeremy’s torso. He threw it down on the floor and then took the empty glasses frames off his face and tossed them aside as well. Jeremy braced, sitting upright on the sofa with his hands over his lap. What was McClellan doing?

McClellan removed his own shirt, folding it and placing it on an arm of the sofa. When he turned back to him, Jeremy was stunned by the sight of his hairy, chiseled, muscular chest. McClellan was stacked!

“Such pretty nipples,” McClellan purred, reaching out to pull on one of Jeremy’s nipple rings. “And such an impressive body! You really are a beautiful boy now, Jeremy.”

“Uh, I ain’t no boy,” Jeremy corrected again, trying to sound firm but it came out as more of a plea than anything else.

“You know what, Jeremy?”

“Whut?” He couldn’t look at McClellan. A voice was screaming inside his head to get out of that office but he was frozen in place.

“I’ll give you a job if you sit on my dick.”

Jeremy sat up with a jolt. “WHAT?!” He looked over at McClellan in shock and promptly wished he hadn’t.

McClellan had unzipped his pants and was stroking the longest, thickest and juiciest cock that Jeremy had ever seen. It wasn’t quite as long as the monstrosity between his own thighs but it wasn’t far behind, plus–unlike Jeremy’s piece–it was hard. Very hard. The very mass and girth of the thing made Jeremy’s mind blank. Talk about horse-hung!

“My cock,” McClellan grunted, waving the behemoth up and down before Jeremy’s mesmerized gaze, “in your ass, boy. It’s that simple. Then you’ll have a job again. Not the same one, mind you. One that’s more…suited,” he laughed, picking up Jeremy’s imitation suit jacket as he said this, ”to your particular talents.”

Jeremy’s butt clenched in dread at the thought of that enormous dick ramming into his tiny, tight virgin hole. All the color drained out of his face as he stared at it, understanding too late that McClellan had been toying with him all along. The dude had never intended to talk seriously about letting Jeremy come back to work. All he wanted was to fuck him.

He stood up from the sofa, grabbing the jacket out of McClellan’s hands and spitting, “I ain’t gay and I ain’t no boy! And I sure as fuck ain’t gonna let ya fuck me with that ugly thing!” He squeezed his massive arm back into his dress suit and shrugged on the suit jacket, buttoning up as best as he could with shaking hands. “I’m leaving!”

McClellan merely gazed up at him. He was unmoved by his outburst but did frown slightly at having his cock insulted. Still jacking himself, he sighed, “You’ll be back. I guarantee it.”

“No, I won’t! I ain’t never comin’ back here again!”

“Maybe,” McClellan admitted, “because it’s true you don’t really belong here anymore.” He paused to fish around in his back pocket, removing a business card and handing it to him. “But you do belong here.”

Confused, Jeremy stared down at the little piece of paper. He furrowed his brow, struggling to read it. He found it helped if he sounded out the words as he read them, though. “Spume,” he read, “A gentleman’s spa.” He looked up questioningly. “Whut dat mean?”

“That, boy, is your new job,” McClellan informed him, using both hands to jack his massive cock. “You do need a job, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wanna work here. Not no place called Sp-Sp-Spume.”

“You don’t get to decide that, I’m afraid. Just come to that address and tell them that I sent you. They’ll hire you on the spot.”

With that, McClellan arched his back and let loose with an explosive orgasm. He aimed his cock at Jeremy as he climaxed, spewing cum all over his face and body.

***

Chapter 4

Jeremy fled from McClellan’s office, ignominiously smothered in the older man’s cum. He was drenched in it. It dripped off his hair and onto his face and dark stains spread over his Lycra suit and tights. As he passed by, his former coworkers’ eyes were drawn first to his crazy hypersexual new body, then to his ridiculous attire and finally to the dubious milky stains covering his body. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Snickers, giggles and peels of laughter chased after him down the hallways. He heard more than a few people guffaw, “Is that Jeremy? What the fuck did he do to himself? He looks like a total himbo!”

Tears filled his eyes as he burst out of the entrance, exiting the hated workplace. Bart burst out laughing when he saw him, calling out, “Whatsa matter, Princess? Yer hole hurtin’? Don’t worry, you’ll be back down on yer knees again in no time. It’s what yer made for!”

Jeremy couldn’t run very far before he grew winded. It was hard with his big butt flopping up and down in back and his monster-sized pecs trying to give him a black eye! He drew back into an alley, sniffling loudly. Wiping at his face and hair, he tried to get rid of the cum but he merely ended up smearing it all over. A droplet even touched his tongue and he gagged at the bitter taste. He was eating McClellan’s cum! This didn’t help his terrible mood and soon he was bawling.

He hated himself!

And he especially hated his body!

How could he have ever thought this horrible caricature of a man’s body was an improvement? He wanted it gone! He wanted his old body back! He’d take his protruding belly, spindly arms, and mini-cock any day over this monstrosity!

He sagged down on his haunches, flushing when he felt several snaps give way. He’d forgotten about the snaps running up the legs of his ‘work pants’! His butt hung out behind him, half naked and completely obscene. He covered his face with his sausage-sized fingers, crying and crying.

Eventually, his tears ran out and looked around, realizing his cavernous stomach was very empty. How long ago had he eaten? He had no idea what time it was but it was probably well past lunchtime. He couldn’t go home and eat because all the food in his apartment was spoiled.

Which meant he had no choice but to go to a cafe.

He groaned, shoulders hunching. The last thing he wanted was to be out in public! He didn’t want to ever be seen again. He wanted to become a hermit. A fucking hermit! Being completely alone was far preferable to going out in public looking like a freak!

His stomach rumbled, dangerously empty. He felt weak from hunger. He had to eat!

As luck would have it, his hiding spot in the alley was right across the street from a cafe. He flared his nostrils, smelling coffee and pastries. His stomach growled. He wiped the tears from his eyes and stood, fastening the snaps again and concealing his ass. Well, there was really no way to conceal that big thing, especially not when he was wearing such a ridiculously tight outfit. His cheeks colored when he looked down at himself. How did he let Arvind talk him into wearing this? He felt like a fucking clown! His massive bulge looked like it was going to pop out at any moment!

But what choice did he have? Go naked? He shuddered with revulsion at the thought. No, this was all he had to wear. And he had to eat. Besides, he’d already endured a barrage of humiliation today. What was a little more?

He sighed, squaring his shoulders and marching determinedly across the street. Let’s just get this over with!

He was in such a sour mood as he entered the cafe that he didn’t notice the barista at first. When the guy raised his hand and called out a friendly greeting, though, he looked up and gasped. It was one of those moments when the clouds seemed to part and the heavens opened up, a golden ray of sunlight streaking down to illuminate the most beautiful man in the world.

The barista was beyond handsome.

Jeremy was speechless, thinking, Holy fuck, he’s hot! before the recent memory of McClellan resurfaced. He pushed the thought out of his head. He wasn’t gay! He didn’t find men attractive, despite what McClellan seemed to think. Worse, Bart’s taunting words kept echoing through his head, ‘Don’t worry, Princess! You’ll be back on yer knees in no time!’ He clenched his jaw and averted his eyes from the barista.

But he just couldn’t resist glancing back up again as he approached the counter. He froze. The guy was staring back at him intently, his blue eyes searching Jeremy’s face. 

Jeremy was dazzled.

The guy was young, probably in his early twenties, and tall. He was lean and wiry, too, with a runner’s build. An apron hung over his neck and was cinched around his tiny waist. He wore a t-shirt beneath the apron, exposing his bare arms. They were nicely muscled and very defined. He didn’t appear to have a trace of fat on his sinewy frame.

All of that was great but it was the guy’s blazing blue eyes, dark eyebrows, full lips and pert nose that really drew Jeremy’s attention. He felt like he could swim in the dreamy depthless of those eyes. The guy’s expression was puckish, the corner of his mouth lifted in perpetual amusement. His cheeks were stubbly with a hint of a dark beard but his hair was lighter and trimmed in a boyishly short haircut. When he talked, his voice was lilting, almost musical.

Jeremy’s heart fluttered. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

He was smitten.

Completely and utterly head over heels.

For a guy!

And a guy he’d never even seen before!

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Thus overwhelmed with desire, Jeremy was heedless of the other customers standing around them, some of whom were openly snickering at him. For that moment at least, he and the barista were the only two people in the world. He wanted to bask in the magnificence of the guy’s presence forever. He felt complete. Happy. And aroused.

“Custer?” the guy (whose name tag read, ‘Grant’) asked, dark eyebrows lifting. “Is that you, bro?”

Jeremy shook himself, coming back to reality. Custer? Who was Custer? He opened his mouth but no sound came out. He stood there with his big maw agape.

Grant continued to stare at him in an unnerving fashion. His eyes seemed to bore into his soul and his gaze became increasingly desperate. Finally, he made an inarticulate sound and grabbed Jeremy’s tie in his hand to reel him in. Caught off guard, Jeremy bent over and stared as Grant’s lips parted and his face moved forward.

Grant kissed him!

He fucking kissed him!

In front of everyone!

Jeremy’s mind blanked as those soft, seductive lips folded around his own and Grant kissed him passionately. His lips parted and he teased Jeremy with his tongue for a moment before opening his eyes again and staring at Jeremy with confusion.

He pulled back, releasing his tie. “Y-Y-You ain’t Custer! Who are you?!”

Jeremy was frozen, the taste of Grant’s lips still in his mouth. His eyes were glazed over and he felt breathless. Arousal coursed through him like a drumbeat and his booty cheeks clenched. 

But then his gaze slid downward and he beheld the bulge tenting out the front of Grant’s apron. Before he could suppress it, the raw memory of McClellan’s assault came back to him and he panicked, turning to flee. Unfortunately for him, he tripped over his big feet and fell headlong down onto the floor, only catching himself at the last second with his hands. There were a series of audible snaps as the rows of fasteners down each leg of his obscene tights gave way. He bellowed in horror as the pants split apart, falling in two halves on the floor around him.

He panicked, his bared, thonged ass exposed for all–and most especially for Grant–to see.

Fuck. Just when he thought the day couldn’t get any worse, he found himself ass up in the middle of a cafe with his back arched and naked booty cheeks spread. A cold breeze caressed his buttocks and he clenched his tender, hairless pucker, realizing it was protruding outward. With no hair to hide it, it winked back at Grant, a nubile rosebud, an unplucked flower, bisected by the tiny, red string of his thong.

The place roared with laughter as the patrons took in Jeremy’s wanton display, made worse by his crazily inflated butt. He felt his face turn bright red and he withered, floundering around on the floor, trying to get back up. His beefy body worked against him and he just made things worse as his cock sprang free of the thong and spilled out. His bull balls followed suit and soon all of Jeremy’s oversized manhood was flopping back and forth.

Tears filled his eyes and he bawled like a hapless calf. 

“Here, bro. Lemme help.”

He felt something draped over his big butt and then Grant’s hands were helping him to his feet. Pushing Jeremy toward a room in the back, Grant called over his shoulder to his coworker, “Hey, Steph! Cover for me, Ok?”

Jeremy looked down and saw that Grant had removed his apron and was tying it around his butt. The dude snagged another apron and tied it around his front. Thus covered by two aprons, the worst of Jeremy’s nudity was effectively hidden. His massive schlong, however, was still visible, dangling listlessly beneath the hem of the apron.

Grant closed the door behind them, turning to face Jeremy. His cheeks were rosy and he studiously ignored Jeremy’s exposed equipment. “Take it easy, bro,” he soothed, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yer safe from prying eyes now. Just hang out here til thing’s calm down outside.”

When he turned to leave, Jeremy protested, taking him by the shoulders. “Don’t go!” he pleaded. “Please!” He had no idea why he said this. If anything, he should be running away right now and praying that Grant didn’t call the police on him for indecent exposure.

Grant’s eyes were already soft with concern but they softened more at this. “Jesus,” he breathed, staring at Jeremy closely. “I know yer not Custer but ya really do look a lot like him. Well, ya look like he does now, not the way he used to look before…” His voice trailed off and he didn’t complete the sentence. Instead, he set his jaw and folded his arms, thinking furiously. Finally, he looked up intently. “Something’s wrong,” he stated. “I can feel it. It can’t be a coincidence that ya look so much like Custer.”

“Who’s…Cust-er?” Jeremy could barely make his mouth work and hated how stupid he sounded. Being face to face with such a handsome guy was doing things to his ass (and heart) that he didn’t understand.

Grant smiled. Its radiance made Jeremy’s heart flip. “My big brother,” he explained. “He looks so much like you that I’d swear you were twins.” He paused, sighing heavily. “But I lost him and now it’s too late.”

Jeremy swallowed, still unable to talk right. “He…dead?” As dumbed down as he was now, it never occurred to him to ask the other obvious question: Why would the dude French kiss someone he thought was his brother.

Grant shook his head. “Nah, not dead. Worse, if ya can believe it.” He exhaled, smiling sadly. “But never mind. There ain’t nuthin’ I can do ‘bout him right now. You, on the other hand, I can help.”

“Help?”

There was that smile again. Grant was handsome as fuck all the time but even more so when he smiled. “Yeah, ya big dummy. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess ya don’t usually go around dressed like a big himbo in heat, right?”

“Himbo?” Jeremy repeated. He’d heard one of his coworkers call him that as he was fleeing the office but hadn’t understood what they meant.

“A gay muscle slut,” Grant explained, gesturing at Jeremy’s body before apologizing, “Sorry. I don’t mean no offense by that but it is the way you look. Besides Custer, I ain’t never seen nobody quite as himbofied as you.”

Jeremy looked down at himself and reluctantly saw himself as if through Grant’s eyes. Gasping in dismay, he saw the thong pushed down around his hulking thighs and his massive cock swinging free beneath the apron. His gaze traveled upward, taking in the cum-stained, cheesy suit coat that hugged every single one of his burgeoning muscles. He shuddered, realizing that Grant was right. He did look like a gay muscle slut!

Grant soothed him when he started to cry. “Here, may I?” he asked. Kneeling down, he reached out toward Jeremy’s long schlong. “Lemme tuck it back in for you, Superman.” He grinned as he said this, noting the superhero’s insignia emblazoned on the pouch. He didn’t wait for Jeremy’s consent, gently cradling his bull-sized cock and balls and pulling out the pouch to catch them. Once he’d succeeded in cramming them back inside, he hoisted the thong back up Jeremy’s thighs and positioned it securely on his narrow hips.

“There,” he pronounced. “Good as new.” He leaned back, taking in the full magnitude of Jeremy’s piece, shaking his head and breathing, “Incredible. Fuckin’ incredible! How’d they do that?” 

Only reluctantly did he tear his attention away from Jeremy’s package. He straightened to rummage around in a locker behind them, looking back at Jeremy as he did so, he sized him up. “You and Steph are built very differently but I’ll wager yer about the same basic size.” He extracted a pair of baggy jeans and a very large t-shirt from the locker, holding them up. “Yeah, these’ll work.”

Jeremy blinked back at him. “Huh? Werk for whut?”

Grant smiled to himself before chastising, “Think for once in yer goddamned life, dummy! Unless ya wanna go traipsing around lookin’ like a slutty himbo, ya need some clothes to, uh, cover yerself up.” He puffed out his narrow chest, bragging, “Juss trust ol’ Grant here. I’ve got enough brains for both of us.” He held the jeans and t-shirt out to Jeremy, shaking them impatiently. “Put these on.”

Jeremy lowered his head, ashamed of his stupidity. He couldn’t understand why it was so hard to think. Ever since he woke up that morning, his brain had been muddy and sluggish. He’d always been so smart!

“Ah, buddy!” Grant said, noting his embarrassment. “I’m sorry! That was mean of me! So yer big an’ dumb? Who cares? Yer cute enough to make up for it, not to mention hung and, most importantly, gifted in back.”

Jeremy flushed, heart pounding. When he looked up at Grant, the dude was watching him with unconcealed desire. Unlike McClellan, though, Grant was kind. Well, for the most part. At last, Jeremy allowed himself to fully feel the strange urges running through him ever since he’d first laid eyes on Grant. His butt clenched and his mouth fell open. He drooled.

Grant grinned slyly back at him, registering his wanton expression. He glanced down at his own crotch. Suddenly breathless, Jeremy followed his gaze and stood up straighter when he saw the size of the bulge under Grant’s apron. It was even bigger than McClellan’s! 

Grant laughed, patting his tumescent crotch affectionately. “They don’t call me a hung top for nuthin’, bro! Trust me, I can give that big, rubberized bottom of yers a real workout.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “In fact, maybe we got time right now–”

A knock on the door interrupted him and Jeremy heard a gruff voice calling out, “Hey, Grant! I need ya out here. We’re slammed!”

“Be right there, Steph! Sorry!” Grant’s tone was apologetic but his expression was frustrated. The door closed and he turned back to Jeremy, still holding the shirt and jeans. “Looks like I’m gonna have to wait to give ya a ride on the ol’ stallion. Go on, bud. Put these on. Steph don’t mind, he keeps these here for emergencies and I’d call this an emergency.” 

Jeremy accepted the clothes and then Grant was gone, leaving him alone with a fiercely thudding heart and an unfamiliar ache in his butt. He’d never felt this way before, it was like his hole was hungry. Hungry to Grant’s big–

He forced the thought out of his head. Even though he looked like a total gay slut right now, it didn’t mean he had to act like one. He held up Steph’s stained and smelly clothing, nose wrinkling with distaste. Looking down at himself, though, he realized the big barista’s oversized jeans and t-shirt were a lot better than what he had on right now. He sighed and bent over, stepping into the jeans.

Surprisingly, even though they looked like they would be too big, they fit him, being only a little tight in the front. The denim hugged his booty cheeks but the material wasn’t overstretched. He pulled the t-shirt over his mounded chest, pleased with how his pecs showed through the tight material. His shark’s tooth pendant swung back and forth before settling down in the deep cleft of his cleavage.

He looked himself up and down in a mirror next to the lockers, suddenly pleased with the towering stud he saw peering back at him. Now that he was wearing regular clothes, he didn’t look quite so freakish.

As he exited the backroom, feeling like a whole new man, Grant called out. “Hey, bud! Don’t forget yer phone and wallet!” He held them up and Jeremy reached over to take them thankfully. Grant beamed back, looking him up and down and praising, “Steph’s clothes look great on ya, dude! The boys’re gonna beg ya to drop yer drawers and bend over now!”

Jeremy’s mouth fell open. “Huh?”

In silent reply, Grant looked meaningfully down at his own bulging crotch. Jeremy swallowed, suddenly hot. The dude was still really turned on! “Just you wait, bud,” Grant promised, “til I get done with my shift…” He straightened when Steph growled behind him, looking sheepish…for a moment. “I mean, what can I get ya? Besides my big cock, that is? You look awful hungry.”

***

Chapter 5

Jeremy sat on the sidewalk outside his apartment building, holding his head in his hands. All of his belongings–well, all the ones that hadn’t already been picked over by scavengers–were strewn about on the grassy strip between the street and the sidewalk. While he’d been out buying clothes and getting groped by McClellan, his landlord had evicted him.

How could things get any worse?

He’d already been disconsolate after watching Grant flirt with every cute guy who came into the cafe. Sitting at a table and munching on his chewy burrito, he’d watched the dude hand out his phone number to at least five guys. To top this off, he’d also observed several customers scrolling through Grindr on their smartphones, locating Grant’s profile and sending him solicitous DMs.

The bitter truth was, while Jeremy might look like a gay slut, Grant actually was one.

It bothered him a lot more than it should have.

He didn’t like men after all.

Yeah, that’s right.

He wasn’t even gay!

So why did it annoy him seeing Grant flirt with other men?

Eventually, he’d given up and left the cafe. He ignored Grant’s call from behind him and pushed through the front doors, heart heavy inside his chest.

He hated his life.

He hated his body.

He hated McClellan.

And he really hated Grant.

“Hey, bud! What’re ya doin’ sittin’ out here?”

Speaking of the (handsome) devil. Jeremy looked up to find Grant leaning over him, concern filling his blue eyes. As he blinked up at him, Grant surveyed the stuff scattered around on the sidewalk. He frowned and sat down next to Jeremy, slinging an arm over his shoulders. Jeremy wanted to shrug it off but he couldn’t do it; as much as he hated to admit it, he needed Grant right now. Needed him badly.

“H-H-H-How’d ya find me?” he asked, voice thick with the effort of trying to choke back tears.

Grant laughed, such a rich sound! “I added yer phone to my iPhone’s tracker while you were in the backroom gettin’ dressed. Had to make sure ya didn’t gimme the slip. Why’d ya leave so fast anyways? I tole ya to wait til I was done with my shift!”

Jeremy blinked back at him. “I left ‘cuz ya were more interested in flirtin’ with normal guys.” He looked away, feeling miserable. “I know I’m a big freak, dude. Ya coulda juss tole me to get lost.”

Grant took his chin in his hand much like McClellan had done earlier and turned his face so he couldn’t look away. “You are a big freak, dude, but yer my big freak.” When Jeremy rolled his eyes, Grant insisted, “Look, I know I’m a huge slut and it’s true I get a lot of booty.” He grinned proudly, glancing down at his big bulge. “When yer as hot and hung as I am, ya can’t help it. Every guy wants a piece of my piece. Including you. Am I wrong?”

Jeremy refused to answer but the way he was staring at Grant’s crotch revealed his feelings perfectly.

Grant chuckled, leaning in for a kiss. He put a hand behind Jeremy’s head and pushed him close so he was forced to respond. Jeremy opened his mouth and Grant’s tongue plunged inside, wedging its way between his teeth. Jeremy moaned, opening wider and inviting Grant to take him. Grant was only too happy to oblige and soon he’d pushed Jeremy over and was smothering him under his tight, lean body. His big, hard bulge ground against Jeremy’s bigger, softer one.

When Jeremy started to unbutton his jeans, though, Grant stopped him. “Easy, bud! Easy! We’re in public, remember?” He laughed, pushing himself up and rebuttoning his pants. His blue eyes were on fire with lust and his crotch was tented obscenely. “God, yer beautiful! You know that? They really did good work on you, makin’ ya into the perfect himbo bottom!”

Jeremy wanted to protest but the truth was he had only a hazy idea what Grant was talking about. And he was incredibly turned on, his butt doing things he didn’t even realize it was capable of doing. What was wrong with him?

Grant stood up, reaching out a confident hand to him. “C’mon, bro! Looks like yer comin’ home with me tonight.” He looked over at the doorway to Jeremy’s now empty apartment, growing solemn. “Sorry ‘bout yer place, bud. Must be tough.” Before Jeremy could reply, though, he brightened and squeezed his hand. “But ya got me by yer side and that’s what counts. I’m not gonna leave ya stranded. Stay with me as long as ya need!”

***

Grant had scarcely pushed open the door to his little, one-bedroom, basement apartment when he had Jeremy shoved up against the wall and was working hard to get his clothes off. Jeremy knew he should resist but he didn’t. Instead, he let the super-hung stud tear off his clothes until he was standing there wearing only his thong. Grinning, Grant bent over and pulled the string down with his teeth, laughing when Jeremy’s schlong slapped him hard on the cheek.

He straightened and, eyes pleading, waited until Jeremy gave him permission to touch him. Jeremy shivered with undisguised delight at the loving caress of Grant’s hand on his cock.

“Incredible!” Grant praised, squeezing it gently. “They must’ve removed the erectile tissue and then stretched out yer skin before inserting a huge, silicone dildo. Looks like they even gave ya a new foreskin, too! God, that’s the work of a true master plastic surgeon right there! I wonder what they did with the erectile tissue after they removed it? I’m sure they didn’t waste it!” He moved his hand downward to cup Jeremy’s monster balls, fondling them while moaning softly. “Neuticles,” he breathed, feeling around in his sac. “They musta neutered ya and stretched out yer sac until it was big enough to hold these babies. Fuck, that’s both so wrong and so hot!”

Brow furrowing, Jeremy demanded, “Whut’re ya talkin’ bout?” Grant may as well have been speaking Greek; he barely understood a word he said.

Grant glanced up at him, chagrined. “Don’t mind me, bro. I’m juss figurin’ out yer new bod. And I’m right, ain’t I? That it’s new?” 

Jeremy nodded, repeating the same thing he’d told McClellan, “Yup, I woke dis mornin’ like dis. I ain’t got no idea whut happened to me. I didn’t look like dis before.”

Unlike McClellan, Grant actually listened to him. The beautiful boy stared thoughtfully at him, the gears in his mind whirring. “Juss like Custer. He disappeared for a month and then showed up again lookin’ juss like you. Kept sayin’ he had no clue what the fuck happened to him. Dumb as a fuckin’ brick, too.” He looked up sheepishly, adding, “No offense, bud!”

Jeremy merely stared back at him vacantly. He had no idea what Grant was apologizing for.

Turning back to admiring Jeremy’s body, Grant moved his big hands over the ridges of Jeremy’s abs until he was cupping his huge pecs. “These’re all silicone, too. Huh. That’s strange. I woulda thought they’d use steroids.” He looked up, fixing Jeremy with his blue eyes. “Were ya real scrawny er sumthin’ before?” Before Jeremy could answer, though, he nodded. “Yeah, that must be it. I can feel yer little muscles under the fake ones. Jesus! I didn’t realize this was possible! I think they injected Custer with ‘roids, though. He was already pretty muscular so it woulda been easier. Don’t know how they managed to blow him up with muscles so quick, though. He was only gone for a month. Fast-acting ‘roids?”

Jeremy mewled pathetically. He had no idea what Grant was talking about but he had a feeling that none of it was good.

Grant glanced back up at him apologetically. “Sorry, bud! I ferget how dumb you are. Lemme give it to ya, uh, straight: Yer made outta plastic now. Basically, yer just a bunch of skin-covered silicone. Yer lips, yer cheeks, yer ass, yer cock, yer muscles. All filler. Really sexy filler, I might add.” He lifted his lips and kissed Jeremy, patting his wide bottom before grabbing it with both hands. “Now that’s an ASS!”

Jeremy’s mind reeled with this information. It was so awful that he couldn’t make himself believe it. There was no way his body was made out of plastic! No way!

While he struggled, Grant’s fingers squeezed his big globes, moving inward and exploring his huge, hairless cleft. Jeremy let out a little yelp of surprised delight when his forefinger scored his clenched pucker. The finger tickled his rosebud, wiggling around until Grant had worked it inside his nubile hole. It felt so naughty to have a man fingering him that Jeremy forgot all about his dismay. His eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned loudly.

Grant let out a little whoop of victory, crowing, “I think I found out where they put yer erectile tissue, bud. Not to mention yer Cowper’s gland.” Jeremy blinked as Grant held up his finger. It was slick with clear goo. He watched in horrified fascination as Grant licked it off, smacking his lips. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” he swore. “It’s incredible! They moved yer erection-making tissue down to yer butthole and rerouted yer Cowper’s gland down there, too. Yer tight as fuck and all lubed up! Fuck, you really are the perfect bottom now!”

With that, he yanked down his own pants and hugged his taut body against Jeremy. His big hands grabbed Jeremy’s ass cheeks and his tongue slopped around inside his mouth. Moaning, Jeremy reached down and grabbed Grant’s tiny, pert bottom, surprised when his fingers encountered sheer fabric. He looked down over Grant’s shoulder and saw he was wearing only a tiny pair of briefs. They were pink.

“I may be a top, bud, but I’m a bit femme, too,” Grant revealed, batting his eyelashes coyly. “I hope ya don’t mind. I’m all man, though, where it counts.” As if to underscore this point, he shimmied the sheer briefs down his waist, allowing his decidedly man-sized cock to spring forth. He arched his back and it flopped upward, hard and fat and dripping with pre. 

That cock pressed insistently against Jeremy’s belly for a moment before Grant stepped back and, pulling his t-shirt over his head, held out his arms and proudly displayed his shaved, naked body.

“Meet the man who’s gonna destroy yer hole, bud!” he boasted. “I am Grant Muñoz, a god among tops!”

Bald of hair from his feet to his chin, he possessed a lithe, boyish body that was almost feminine, save for one important part: The enormously fat, long cock standing boldly erect and pointing up at the ceiling. Unlike the skin on the rest of his body, his penis was dark, almost black, and his foreskin was even darker. It made Jeremy drool.

Grant had a huge cock.

There was no other way to describe it.

It put McClellan’s to shame and was only marginally less impressive than the flaccid monster slapping against Jeremy’s knees. With the skill of a true master, Grant took Jeremy by the hips and spun him around, pushing his head downward until he was fully bent over. 

“Grab yer cheeks,” he ordered. Jeremy complied, reaching back to pull his giant globes apart. His little hole winked alluringly back at Grant.

Grant lowered himself to his knees and tongued that hole, driving Jeremy insane with forbidden pleasure. No one had ever licked his butthole before and he was shocked by how pleasurable it was. He pushed his butt backward, inviting Grant’s tongue to explore every part of him. Grant obeyed, wedging his tongue deeply inside him while stroking Jeremy’s big, floppy cock with both hands. Even though Jeremy’s dick was useless, it was still very sensitive. Having his cock manhandled was nearly as delirious as having his hole licked.

Jeremy read his new body like a book, working him slowly and deliberately into a frenzy of ecstasy. That tongue! Fuck, Grant knew how to use his tongue! He licked and licked, waiting until Jeremy was so turned on that the erectile tissue around his hole had pinched it tightly shut. Then he struck!

“A hole designed for a top’s pleasure!” he praised, standing up and spitting on his giant tool until it was dripping with saliva. Then he slicked back his long foreskin and squatted down before thrusting up with his hips. Jeremy wailed in expectation as Grant’s shiny glands pressed firmly against his virgin rosebud. He longed to have that big club inside him. It was weird how badly he wanted it when only hours ago he’d been horrified by the thought.

Grant was like that.

Jeremy would let him do anything to him. No questions asked. He trusted him completely. Even though the dude was an unabashed slut, Jeremy still trusted him. Or maybe he just wanted him? Like the way his ass wanted that dick inside it?

“It’s gonna hurt, bud.”

He was right. Jeremy cried out in pain when the blunt, bulbous head of Grant’s big cock assaulted his hole. The dude wasn’t exactly tender in the way he took Jeremy’s cherry, either. He grabbed a handful of Jeremy’s hair and yanked back hard, forcing him to arch his back. Jeremy grunted, momentarily stunned. His hole went slack and Grant struck, thrusting his pole deeply inside, forever robbing Jeremy of his status as a straight man. By the time he’d thrust the full length of his club inside him, Jeremy had been transformed forever into a cum-hungry bottom bitch who would do anything to have a big cock up his chute. The bigger the better, too! The tattoo over his cock didn’t lie: He was a size queen now.

Grant rode him like a rodeo bull, bucking and thrusting and stretching him out until he was gaping. By the time he exploded inside Jeremy, coating him liberally with his potent seed, he’d ensured that Jeremy was ruined for lesser men. Only a truly dominant and hung top could ever please him. A truly dominant and hung top like Grant.

“See?” Grant teased as he leaned back and inch after inch of his giant organ slipped out of Jeremy’s aching ass lips. “Yer tramp stamp doesn’t lie. You really do have a slut butt!”

“Huh? Whut?” Jeremy was gasping for breath. 

He’d orgasmed more than eight times while Grant was fucking him but barely anything came out of his limp hose. Being neutered and having his Cowper’s gland rerouted meant only the meager fluid of his prostate was left to trickle out of his useless member. Still, it was fun. And intense. Just like having a cock in his ass, he’d never imagined it was possible to cum while being fucked. But it had happened, over and over as Grant slammed against his prostate.

“Yo, bud? Ya still with me?” Grant was watching him with a pleased expression on his face. “I’m a lot to handle, I know.” He traced a finger over the small of his back, reading, “Slut butt. Ha! I love it!”

“I dunno whut ya mean,” Jeremy panted. His hole was throbbing painfully now that Grant was done fucking it.

Grant slapped him painfully on the ass, explaining, “Yer tattoo. The big one across yer lower back. It says, ‘SLUT BUTT’ in really big, black letters. Didn’t ya know ya had one back there?”

“Nah, I didn’t. I only woke up like dis today, remember?”

Grant shook his head, lifting him up off the floor and then kissing him softly. “Dude,” he laughed. “I don’t even know yer name. What makes ya think I know yer story? Oh, I can guess a lot of it, sure, but that’s only ‘cuz of Custer. He’s basically the same as you now.” He paused before asking delicately, “What is yer name anyways, bro?”

“Jeremy.”

Grant smiled, repeating, “Jeremy. I like it but more than that, I like you. A lot.”

“I like you, too.”

“That makes me happy, bud. Real happy. Now c’mon, let’s get cleaned up.”

***

Grant made dinner while Jeremy sorted through his belongings. They’d unloaded the meager remnants of Jeremy’s possessions from Grant’s little car after showering together (and fucking again and then showering again.) There was barely anything left of his stuff! He teared up as he looked down at the few boxes, the contents of his life. It wasn’t fair! Why had this happened to him?

He pulled out the disgusting clothes he’d let Arvind talk him into buying and was tossing them in the trash from when a slip of paper fell out. He picked up and looked at it; it was the business card that McClellan had given him, the one for the ‘gentleman’s spa’ called Spume.

“What’s that, bud?” Grant had padded over and was looking down at the card with interest. He was wearing just a tiny pair of sheer briefs again, his massive schlong hanging down in the pouch like a mutant tumor. Jeremy looked up at him, licking his lips when he realized that big, beautiful cock was at eye level. When he reached out for it, though, Grant batted his hand away, chiding, “Down, boy! Down! There’ll be plenty of time to ride my big dick later. Right now, I’m hungry and need to eat!” He sobered, asking again, “Are ya gonna tell me what yer looking at there?”

“Dunno. It’s sumthin’ Mista Muñoz gave me.”

“Mr. Muñoz?” Grant queried, expression turning grim. “Did ya really say, Mr. Muñoz?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy replied, shrugging. “My old boss, McClellan Muñoz. I went to him today an’ asked for my old job back.”

Grant snatched the card out of his hand, staring at it intently. His face was ashen when he looked back at Jeremy. “This is where Custer works.” He shuddered. “Well, actually Custer works at the club, Froth, next door but it’s owned by the same guy: McClellan Muñoz.”

Jeremy nodded vigorously. “Yup! Dat’s him! McClellan. He tried to rape me today.”

“HE WHAT???!!!” Grant grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “WHAT DID YOU SAY???” Scared by his sudden fury, Jeremy started crying and immediately Grant let go of him, apologizing, “Sorry, bud! I didn’t mean to frighten you! I’m juss in shock is all.” He clenched his jaw, muttering, “I’ll fuckin’ kill McClellan if he hurt you!”

“He didn’t!” Jeremy insisted, sniffling. “I wouldn’t let him. He let me go an’ tole me I could find a job at this place. I don’t wanna, though.”

Grant looked back to the little card, muttering, “Spume, huh? It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Huh?”

Straightening, Grant shook his head. “Nuthin’, bud. Juss thinkin’. Ya know what? I think it’s time you an’

me paid a visit to Spume. We could go there tonight and apply for jobs together.”

This time it was Jeremy’s turn to react violently. “WHUT???!!!” he demanded. “WHY???” 

***

Chapter 6

They walked up to the private gentlemen’s club, Froth, shortly after midnight. Spume was closed already but Grant was unbothered, saying, “This is better, actually. McClellan’s never here this late so there’s no chance he’ll see me.”

Jeremy was too self-conscious to reply to this. He hung his head, miserable in the lime green thong that Grant had forced him to wear to the club. His bloated package was slung heavy and full before him, pulling the waistband of the thong so far down it exposed the top six inches of his giant appendage. The string bit into his ruined hole in back. It still ached from Grant’s savaging and his buttocks felt even bigger than ever without any pants to hold them in. He whimpered pitifully.

“Hey, bud,” Grant said, turning and taking him by the chin. “Stiff upper lip! Yer my ticket into this place and I need ya to act the part. Now throw back those big shoulders and stand up proud and, er, straight. Yer a big himbo bottom, after all!” Jeremy sighed, sucking in his pouty lower lip. He hated being naked and exposed like this!

Grant nodded, pulling the ball cap down further on his head and adjusted his sunglasses. He wore a pair of headphones around his neck and had donned a pair of gold, sequined pants that really showed off his big bulge and skinny frame. When Jeremy had asked him about them, he’d shrugged the question off. “For my image, bud. I’m gonna apply to be a DJ and gotta look the part.”

The beat of techno music thudded against their chests as they stood before a couple of bouncers guarding the entrance. They were the biggest, ugliest men that Jeremy had ever seen. Uniformly tall and incredibly overbuilt, their muscles were swollen obscenely and their immense guts were incredibly distended. Their bald pates gleamed in the dim light and thick, and identical, thick, black beards swathed their melon heads, covering everything but their beady eyes and wide, crooked noses. Their necks swallowed their shoulders and their arms thrust out from their sides, too bloated with muscle to hang normally.

At first Jeremy thought they were wearing fur coats and pants, only belatedly realizing that each man’s entire body was covered in thick, black, wiry hair. Nearly naked–save for all that hair–they wore only tiny, blue posing straps and blue string tanks. Their lumpy pecs spilled out of the top of their tanks along with a plethora of heavy gold chains. Beneath the hair on their arms, Jeremy spied the lurid designs of poorly-drawn tattoos. 

It was the posing straps that really drew his eye and not for the right reasons. The triangles of fabric were so small that their pouches were almost microscopic, making the big brutes’ total lack of a bulge very obvious. If Jeremy stared, he thought he could see the pathetic outline of a little mushroom cap poking out almost imperceptibly against the sheer mesh. Their testes barely registered, apparently shrunken up to nothing from the indiscriminate use of steroids. 

Sneering down at Jeremy and Grant, one of the big beasts slurred, “Well, well, well. Whut we gots heres, Guido? A couple a pretty bois from da looks of ‘em. You gurls think we’re gonna let ya in, huh? Dis here’s a private club, ladies!” He brandished a big fist and menacingly pounded it into the palm of his hand. Next to him, Guido guffawed with laughter.

The body odor wafting off of the pair was truly repugnant and, holding his nose, Grant sighed, “Just let us through, you big gorillas. We’re here to apply for work.”

“Big gorillaz, huh?” Guido repeated, face splitting into a toothless leer. “Ya hear dat, Luigi? Dis pretty lil’ gurl thinks we’s apes! Haha!”

“Huhuhuh,” Luigi grunted. “Apes!”

Grant had had enough. “Oh, for Chrissakes, just step aside and let us in!” He went to move past Luigi but Guido stopped him with a heavy hand on his neck.

“Hold up, pretty gurl,” he warned. “No one gets in without a pass!”

Grant’s eyes flashed with annoyance as he shrugged the brute’s hand off. “A pass? You can’t be serious! Why would someone who’s applying for work here need a pass?”

Things looked like they would go downhill from here but someone cleared his throat behind them at that moment. Instantly, Luigi and Guido stood up straight and saluted, tiny eyes staring straight ahead.

“What seems to be the problem here, Luigi?” the voice asked, its tone modulated with the hint of a Russian accent. “I believe our…guest…here is correct. Why would we require a pass if he’s applying for work?”

Luigi’s maw fell open. “Uh, sorry, sir! I wuz wrong! I never shoulda said dat! Sorry!” There was a look of pure terror written across his simian features.

Jeremy and Grant turned around to find a dapper older man clad in an old-fashioned gray suit, a porkpie hat tilted upon his head. He was both very tall and very handsome. He also exuded authority through his pores, making him a very intimidating figure indeed. Both of them drew back slightly in his august presence.

His smile was warm but never reached his eyes. “My name is Alexei,” he stated crisply, looking them up and down appraisingly. “Alexei Bortnikov. Now, how may I assist you? You seek employment at my fine establishment?”

Grant answered for Jeremy, stepping in front of him and sticking his hand out to Alexei. Alexei took it, stroking his long fingers over Grant’s palm. Grant struggled visibly not to yank his hand back. “Yeah, that’s right,” he replied in a guarded tone. Clearly, he didn’t trust Alexei. “We’re here for work.” He pulled out his phone and pointed to the screen. “Says here ya need a weeknight DJ and dancers.” He jabbed his thumb at his narrow chest. “I’m the fuckin’ best DJ in the whole world, if I do say so myself, and Jeremy here is a fabulous dancer.”

Alexei’s eyes glittered as he moved around Grant to survey Jeremy’s voluptuous, silicone-filled body. “Oh, yes, yes! I can see that he will make a fine dancer indeed. Or maybe a cabana boy? We’re in dire need of both. What do you say, Jeremy? Would you like to work afternoons as a cabana boy in Spume and evenings as a dancer in Froth?” He reached down to pat his crotch suggestively. “I can assure you that the, ahem, pay and…benefits…are exceedingly generous.”

Jeremy swallowed, visions of McClellan’s assault filling his head. He looked pleadingly over to Grant. The last thing he wanted was to be here and he really didn’t want to be either a dancer or a ‘cabana boy,’ whatever that was. Grant met his panicked look, nodding sternly. He’d grilled Jeremy before they left, telling him not to fuck this up. ‘Just go along with whatever happens, bud. Let me do all the talkin’!’

Heart thumping, he chirped, “Uh, yeah! I wanna dance!”

“Excellent.” Alexei couldn’t take his eyes off of him as he ran a big hand over Jeremy’s burgeoning body. It came to rest on his big booty, cupping his left cheek affectionately. Grant bristled next to them, clearly unhappy with the liberties that Alexei was taking with Jeremy’s body. He remained mute, though.

Turning back to Luigi and Guido–both of whom were quaking in their oversized boots–Alexei smiled. “Give these boys a pass, will you?” He squeezed Jeremy’s buttock, promising, “I have to get things set up for your friend’s interview right now but please feel free to wander around inside. Sample the delights of Froth! It’s a good opportunity to get to know your new place of employment.”

“Uh, Ok,” Jeremy answered dully, not liking any of this but unable to deny the distinct tightening sensation around his butthole as his erectile tissue swelled. He had to move his legs apart to make room for his rapidly expanding anal ring.

“Perfect.” Alexei grinned, white teeth flashing in the dim light. Looking over to Grant, he said, “I’ll send one of my assistants to find you shortly.”

Grant eyed him warily. His natural cockiness, however, soon came out and he puffed out his chest and smirked, challenging, “Don’t make me wait too long, old man! A masterpiece like this,” he thrust out his tumescent crotch suggestively, “don’t come ‘round more than once in a lifetime.”

“Indeed,” Alexei purred, eyes landing on Grant’s bulge. “Such treasures are meant to be cherished before they inevitably depart forever.” 

He laughed and was about to walk away when Luigi or Guido stopped him. (Jeremy couldn’t tell them apart.) “Hey, boss!” the big goon called out. “Whut ‘bout yer promise! Ya tole me you’d change me back if I–”

Alexei held up a hand in warning, barking, “Silence! Your contract is clear on this matter. Stop asking me about it or…” He paused to turn menacingly toward the big apes, “I’ll do even worse to you. You don’t want that, do you?”

“NO! NO!” both Luigi and Guido shouted, falling all over themselves to get back on Alexei’s good side. “Pleeze, Mista Bortnikov! No!”

“Alright,” Alexei growled. “Now get back to work. I don’t pay you to waste my time.” With that he turned and stalked off.

After he’d left, Jeremy looked over at Grant. He might be really dumb but even he could tell something very wrong was going on here. Self-assured as ever, Grant merely reached out and mussed his hair, chiding, “C’mon, bud. Relax. Yer with me, remember? I got this. Ain’t nuthin’ bad gonna happen to ya. I’m too smart for that!”

“But–”

Grant didn’t listen. He took Jeremy by the hand and led him confidently into the club, sneering at Guido and Luigi as they walked past. “Later, Apemen! Why don’t ya go groom the ticks off yer hairy backs or sumthin’?” He laughed cruelly, sauntering through the door held open by the glowering Luigi (or Guido.)

***

Grant’s mood changed once they entered the club and he became very quiet. Jeremy followed his gaze, taking in the place with startled awe. It was huge and crowded! There were several levels, all teeming with men. The clientele was comprised entirely of wealthy men. Of varying ages and races, they tended to self-sort by room. Some of the rooms they passed by were filled with high-stakes poker tables, others with formal ballrooms and still others with modern dance floors. 

While the clients themselves were impressive in their displays of ostentatious wealth, it was the employees who really caught Jeremy’s attention.

They all looked like him.

Well, not exactly like him but close enough that it was difficult to tell them apart sometimes. There seemed to be four basic types: Himbo tops and bottoms on the one hand, and femme tops and bottoms on the other. He never would have figured this out on his own but he had Grant there to explain it.

“See those guys over there,” he whispered, pointing to a group of tan, beefy, muscular jocks. “Those are the himbo tops. You can tell by their small butts and big erections.”

Jeremy glanced over, jaw dropping open. The men were all naked from the waist down. This was startling enough but they also sported obscenely big erections. Of all different shapes and thicknesses, only their immense size was the common denominator. Some of their cocks were pierced and knobby, others were long and smooth, still others were so thick they looked like fat stumps. The men laughed and bragged, slapping each other on their beefy shoulders, and generally strutted around proudly.

“See? They got dicks just like yers,” Grant observed, “only instead of flaccid, they’re always hard.” He pointed to another group. “Recognize them? Those’re yer people. The himbo bottoms.”

Jeremy gaped. Grant was right! They looked exactly like him! Oh, their hair color and skin tone might be different but they all sported ridiculously huge, round butts. And flaccid dicks. Their soft penises varied greatly with most of them reduced to really tiny nubs. A few were like Jeremy, though, and possessed the long, fattest, droopiest cocks imaginable. He stared at them, not knowing how he felt. It was really weird seeing so many guys who were built exactly like him.

“And the femme bottoms are like you only soft and curvy,” Grant continued, gesturing toward the bar where a posse of slim, elegant men congregated. With long hair and painted faces, they wore revealing lingerie that showed off their wide, heavy, round buttocks. Jeremy was most captivated, though, but their crotches. Each one had an indented cameltoe where their bulge should have been. “Bottom surgery,” Grant supplied, noting Jeremy’s confusion. “They have cunts now.”

“What?!”

“Shhh,” Grant hushed. “Not so loud!” He placed his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder and was about to move past the bar when someone caught his eye. His face turned a ghostly shade of pale and his mouth fell open. Jeremy followed his gaze across the room to a tall, lithe, young man with long, platinum blonde hair. He was decked out in high heels and wore a shimmering, silver bra. Below the waist, however, he was completely naked. His magnificent ass was beyond voluptuous and his long, curved dick thrust out before him, bobbing from side to side.

“Custer?” Grant cried, eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Is that you?”

The young man turned and flipped his hair behind his neck, thinking at first he was being approached by a client. When he saw Grant, though, his eyes went round with panic. Mincing over to them, he hissed, “Grant?! Get out! Get out now, you idiot! You can’t be here!”

He tried to shove Grant toward the exit but Grant wouldn’t budge. “I’m not leaving without you, Custer. I’ve come to rescue you.”

Custer reacted as if Grant had slapped him. Blinking at him through a pair of fake eyelashes, he demanded, “Rescue me? What do you think I am? A little lost puppy? Grant, baby, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into! This isn’t a place you can ever leave!” He gestured around at the opulent and prurient surroundings. “This is Hell, Grant. You sell your soul when you enter here. Alexei owns us now. He owns all of us.” He pursed his full lips together, staring sadly down at Grant. “And he’s gonna own you, too, if you don’t get the fuck out of here now!”

“Pfffft.” Grant waved his hand dismissively. “You forget who I am, Custer! I’m more than just a hung stud, I’m smarter than everyone else here. There’s no way that anyone’s gonna take advantage of me! Alexei is nothing but a greedy bastard. He’s met his match with me!”

Custer gaped down at him, eyes round. “Grant, that’s exactly what–”

At that moment, a handsome, young waiter interrupted them. Holding a tray with a couple of drinks on it, he offered them to Jeremy and Grant. “For you while you wait,” he explained, winking solicitously at Jeremy. “Nice ass, btw,” he added, reaching down to caress Jeremy’s mounded globes. “Alexei’s gettin’ better an’ better all da time!” The dude wore a bow tie around his bull neck but was otherwise naked. His cock, Jeremy observed with avidity, was thick and circumcised and longer than his forearm. It was also perfectly hard. This man was a himbo top; he recognized him from a moment ago.

“Hey! Hands off! He’s mine!” Grant yelled, slapping the waiter’s hand away from Jeremy’s butt. 

Both the waiter and Custer raised an eyebrow at this. Custer fixed Jeremy with a gimlet eye before rounding on Grant. “Yours? Does that mean–?”

Grant looked sheepish. “Look, Custer, I’m a hung top. I got needs. When you disappeared, I–”

A loud slap rang across the bar. Jeremy tore his eyes off the hot waiter’s thick dick long enough to see Grant holding his cheek, looking stunned. Custer glared at him, shaking his hand and wincing.

“We’re married, Grant!” Custer shouted. “Did you forget that?” When Grant didn’t respond, he spat, “Fine. You can go fuck yerself with yer big dick for all I care!” He turned and minced away, squaring his slight shoulders and mustering the shreds of his dignity. People watched him go, a few covering their mouths with their hands.

The young waiter’s hand was back on Jeremy’s ass. He took advantage of Grant’s distraction, working the tip of his finger into his juicy hole. Jeremy squirmed, suppressing a moan. He had no idea how the guy could balance a drink tray while fingering him. He was very talented!

“Meet me later?” the waiter offered, breath warm on Jeremy’s face. “I get off at two. The boss sez we can fuck whoever we want when we’re off duty and yer ass is prime! Name’s Baxter, by the way.” He bowed slightly while wiggling his finger around inside Jeremy. Jeremy moaned, eying Baxter’s hulking cock hungrily. He was even more hung than Grant!

Baxter didn’t wait for Jeremy’s reply. Discreetly removing his finger, he lifted it to his nose and inhaled deeply before offering the beer on his tray to Grant. “For you, sir.” He bowed slightly but his eyes never left Jeremy.

Grant accepted the beer, draining it in one swig and placing the empty bottle back on the tray. “Thanks,” he muttered. “I needed that right now.” Baxter nodded and lifted the cocktail off the tray, offering it to Jeremy, before strutting away. His butt, Jeremy noticed, was extremely muscular and tight.

“So, uh, yeah,” Grant muttered after Baxter was out of earshot. “I, uh, kinda lied before. Custer’s not my brother; he’s my husband. I even took his last name and all.” He shook his head. “Then his brother, McClellan, got involved and, well, things got messy. I ain’t seen Custer in over a year. This is the closest I’ve gotten to him.”

“Custer is McClellan’s brother?” Jeremy repeated, unable to believe it. “But why’d he do dat,” he gestured to Custer’s wasp-thin waist, massive buttocks and unnaturally long, curved penis, “to him?”

Grant met Jeremy’s eyes, his lips pursed. “It was Custer’s idea. McClellan started funding this plastic surgery side venture with Alexei and talked it up big time. Custer was intrigued; he’s always been insecure about his looks and he let McClellan use him as a guinea pig. Custer was the asshole’s test subject, undergoing more and more extreme procedures. Finally, he disappeared and came back looking like you. Only more steroidal. That’s how he looked the last time I saw him.” He paused to study his husband from across the bar; Custer had his back firmly turned to him, his bloated bottom jiggling like Jello. “Guess Alexei wasn’t done with him yet. I hate to say it but he looks damned good now. Better than when I married him!”

When Grant lowered his hand and started massaging his crotch, Jeremy observed, “Ya still love him, dontcha?” He might be stupid but he wasn’t so dumb he didn’t recognize a man’s feelings for another.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Grant looked over at him apologetically. “Don’t get me wrong, bud. I like you a lot, too.”

For some reason, Jeremy was unbothered by playing second fiddle to Custer. No, he had a hard time caring too much, not when Baxter kept looking up from the bar and winking at him.

They were saved from delving further into the topic of their relationship by the arrival of a big, hairy ape of a man. Just as steroidally bloated as Guido and Luigi, the only way they were able to tell him apart from his simian kin was by the color of his posing strap and tank top: They were pink rather than blue. And like the other two apes, he lacked any discernible package, appearing to be basically neutered. 

“Boss’s ready to, uh, interview ya now,” he announced to Grant in a gravelly voice. He turned and started lumbering away but stopped when Jeremy tried to follow. “No,” he corrected, putting a heavy hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Boss said yer ‘sposed to stay here. He wants to see dis one,” he jerked his thick, bearded chin over at Grant, “alone.”

***

Chapter 7

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

Jeremy looked up to find Custer standing before him. His hand was on his big hip and his head was cocked to the side. His luxuriously long hair hung down like a rich curtain waving in the breeze. Jeremy smiled dumbly at him, grunting, “Uh, no prob! Sorry I let yer hubby fuck me.” He cast his eyes down at the floor. “He does a real good job, though.”

Custer smiled. It wasn’t a real smile, though, and it made him look sad rather than happy. “Grant’s a good man. A little immature and slutty but he’s a good guy. I’m glad he fucked you, actually. I can tell he likes you.”

Jeremy examined Custer just as the older man was doing the same to him. It was hard to tell what Custer had looked like before all of the plastic surgery but he’d probably been quite handsome. Now, though, his face had been resculpted into a puffy, plastic mask. His cheeks were too full and his lips were too succulent. His eyes looked slightly bugged out from the skin on his face being pulled back so far. His hair was dyed platinum blonde but his roots were dark. He had breast implants and his boobs stuck out before him nearly as far as his artificially erect cock. In back, his ass was a giant, soft, pillowy sack of silicone. Looking at him was a disconcerting experience and Jeremy wasn’t sure where to let his eyes linger. Nowhere felt safe so he looked away.

“I’m a freak.”

Jeremy looked up at him sharply. “No, you ain’t!” he insisted before amending, “Well, no more than me anyways.”

Custer laughed, a rich, melodic sound. “That’s true. You’re a freak, too.” He placed a delicate hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Us freaks need to stick together.” He paused before adding, “Which is why I’m going to help you out.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Custer replied, eyes sliding over to the bar where Baxter was drying glasses. He looked so adorable in his tiny, red bowtie and nothing else. His skin was burnished bronze and his afro was teased in tiny dreads. His shoulders were broad and muscular and his waist was pleasantly thick. His lower body was stocky as well, the body of a jock. He met Jeremy’s gaze and grinned, waggling his hulking erection suggestively and blowing him a kiss. Custer noticed and smiled. “Baxter’s the real deal. You’ll be happy with him. Let him take care of you.”

“Huh?” Jeremy was so smitten by the hulking stud that he barely registered what Custer had said.

“He’s not fake,” Custer stated plainly. “Everything you see is real. Even the erection’s real.” He waved his hand, laughing, “Oh, he’s on Edex. Not even a hot, young stud like him can maintain an erection for three hours straight. The rest of him is real, though. Alexei didn’t need to do anything to him. He came to us like that. Completely perfect in every way.”

“Edex?”

“A drug, honey,” Custer explained patiently. “It gives you a hardon that lasts several hours.”

“Oh.” Jeremy couldn’t stop staring at Baxter’s masterpiece. He licked his lips, unable to believe a man could possibly have a penis that big that wasn’t fake.

Custer smiled, watching Jeremy watch Baxter. “Let Baxter take care of you and I’ll take care of Grant. Is it a deal?”

Jeremy reluctantly tore his eyes away from Baxter. “Huh?”

Custer sighed. “Baxter’s into you. Real into you. I’ve known him for a couple of years now and never seen him like this. In fact, I’ve never seen him into anyone before. He usually just shows up, tends bar, fucks a few holes, and leaves. Tonight, though, he saw you and hasn’t been the same since. That’s love, honey. Or something that will lead to it, I hope.” He paused, smiling at a distant memory, before continuing, “And Grant and me, we’re like you and Baxter will be. We love each other. Sure, we’ve hurt each other, too, and both of us have done some stupid shit.” He chuckled ruefully, gesturing to his ridiculous body. “I mean, look at me! If this ain’t stupid, I don’t know what is. But Grant still loves me despite myself and I still love him despite himself.”

The gears inside Jeremy’s thick skull were caked with grit and turned with glacial slowness but eventually even he figured out what Custer was asking of him. “Ya want me to leave Grant alone, dontcha?”

Custer nodded. “Please.”

Jeremy swallowed. He liked Grant–especially his huge cock–but he also knew on some level that they weren’t a good match. Plus, he could feel the bond between Custer and Grant and didn’t want to get in the way. They were married after all! Turning to face Custer, he held out his hand. “Deal.”

“Deal.” Custer took his hand, caressing it fondly before letting go. Then he turned and left, saying over his slim shoulder, “Just a word of warning, honey: Be prepared for the worst. You won’t recognize Grant the next time you see him.”

***

Grant was unsteady on his feet as he followed the big brute, Bluto, down the hallway in back of the club. The beer had gone right to his head! It sure tasted good, though. He grinned, reaching out to grab the wall when he felt his knees buckling. “Hey, Apeman!” he called out, watching Bluto’s huge, ugly, bloated, hairy ass lurching from side to side as the beast staggered down the hall ahead of him. “Hold on, I think I–”

He never finished. His vision clouded and he blacked out, falling with a thud to the floor.

He woke up sometime later lying in a chair with an IV attached to his arm. His nose hurt like hell, throbbing painfully. He gave a start and tried to sit up but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Easy, my boy, easy. You took quite a fall!”

It was Alexei’s voice.

Grant turned his head to find the handsome Russian seated on a stool beside him. He wore a white lab coat and glasses that made him look slightly sinister. Well, everything about Alexei was sinister, the glasses just added to it. 

The room was small and painted white. Besides the chair, stool, IV and a small cabinet, it was empty. There was an antiseptic smell in the air. He realized he must be in some sort of medical lab.

“What’d you do to me?” he demanded. “Why’s my nose so sore?”

“I didn’t do anything to you,” Alexei said patiently. “When you lost consciousness, you fell on your face, hurting your nose. It’s broken but I reset it. I am a doctor after all.”

“How did I pass out?” Grant demanded, not remembering anything. “It’s not like me!”

Alexei shrugged. “The alcohol level in your blood was high. Perhaps you were simply drunk?”

“I only had one beer!” Grant insisted. “There’s no way I’d pass out after one beer. You musta drugged me!”

“When was the last time you ate?” Alexei queried. “The beer you drank is from Russia and contains distilled grain alcohol, making it quite potent. Between that and your empty stomach, well…”

Grant reached up and massaged his forehead. His head was throbbing in time with his nose. Everything Alexei said made sense but he still didn’t trust the man. He was about to say so when a series of sharp pricks on his arm made him jump. He looked over in alarm to see his right arm covered by a heavy, metal sleeve. He tried to pull it out but it didn’t budge.

“What is that?!” he exclaimed. “Get it off of me!”

“That, my boy,” Alexei soothed, “is my AI assistant. It’s designed to monitor your vitals and administer a painkiller at regular intervals. It’s nothing to worry about. I could remove it if you like but I’m afraid your nose would hurt even more than it does now.”

The pricks continued, working their way up his arm. He debated what to do, finally deciding he preferred to be on painkillers. He’d never broken his nose before and had no idea it could be excruciating.

He was just starting to settle down when he had another distressing realization: He was naked except for his tiny pair of nearly transparent pink briefs. The outline of his hulking cock thrust up and out, filling the meager pouch to overflowing. “What the fuck!?” he yelled, struggling to pull the IV out of his arm and sit up. “Why’d ya take off my clothes, you sick fuck?!”

Alexei caught his hand and gently moved it back to his side. “I didn’t remove your clothing, Grant. You did. When you awoke after passing out, you tore everything off. Only with a great deal of effort was I able to prevent you from removing your panties.”

“They’re briefs, not panties!” Grant corrected, annoyed. He didn’t believe a word Alexei said and suspected the old pervert had been fondling him while he was out.

Sighing deeply, Alexei asked, “Why don’t we hit the reset button?”

“Huh?”

“Much like your Hillary Clinton and my beloved leader, Mr. Putin,” Alexei explained, “you and I suffer from an unnecessary misunderstanding. We’re actually more alike than you realize, Grant. We’re both extraordinarily intelligent, for one thing. I don’t meet men of your intellect very often and am savoring the opportunity to share my story with you. I think you have the mental prowess to fully comprehend my genius. Unlike lesser men, I don’t need to lie to you. No games. No foolery. I’ll be completely up front with you about everything. How does that sound?”

Grant started to fold his arms but was prevented by the IV and the strange sleeve. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Glad ya recognize me for what I am. I ain’t a dumb slut like Custer.”

“No, indeed!” Alexei agreed. “Well, you may be a slut but you’re certainly not dumb.”

“True dat,” Grant laughed, feeling better about Alexei. He moved his hand down to cup his magnificent cock and balls. “I get more than my share of man pussy.”

“As do I!” Alexei’s smile was vulpine. “It’s a great burden but we hung tops must bear it.”

“Ha! Yer a top, too?” Grant was feeling better and better about Alexei. Why had he ever distrusted the man?

“Of course. It’s the only way to be.” Alexei stared fondly at Grant for a moment before continuing, “Now that we’ve established our mutual superiority, I’d like to fill you in on some crucial details. They’ll help you to understand what I’ve been up to here. You see, Spume and Froth aren’t at all what you might think. I built them from the ground up, intent on righting some old wrongs and giving everyone a chance to succeed.”

Grant narrowed his eyes. “I don’t get it.”

“I take society’s outcasts and those who have never been happy with their lives and set them free.”

“Really?” Grant’s voice dripped with skepticism.

“It’s true,” Alexei stated. “Take your, um, friend, Jeremy. He was a loner, a violently unhappy young man, before McClellan brought him to me and begged me to help him. I was reluctant but, after hearing from his own mouth how miserable he was–you know what his birthday wish was, Grant?” When Grant shook his head, Alexei sighed, “To not be all alone. Tragic, isn’t it? Such a beautiful and promising young man, too! I simply couldn’t sit idly by and let him flounder. I had to do something!”

As he was talking, he detached the now empty IV bag from Grant’s arm and replaced it with another. Then he gently removed the needle from his left arm and, detaching the sleeve from his right arm, inserted a fresh needle near his wrist. He moved the sleeve over to his other arm. Grant wasn’t happy about this but he didn’t object because Alexei was so capable. He barely felt the new needle going in. After a while, he laid back and closed his eyes. He was feeling surprisingly relaxed. Yeah, he’d never felt so alive and free!

When he realized Alexei was waiting for his reply, he grunted in a strangely deeper voice, “Huh? So ya think dat turnin’ him into a slutty himbo made his life betta? I gots ta disagree. It weren’t his choice!”

“Jeremy isn’t like you and I, Grant. His view is too limited. He needed someone like us. Someone with vision. Someone to set him free and allow him to embrace his vast potential.”

“Huh. Yeah, I guess if ya puts it like dat, it do make sense.” Why was his tongue so thick in his throat? It made it difficult to enunciate clearly. He swallowed, debating whether to ask Alexei for a glass of water. After a while, he realized he didn’t need it. That’s what the IV was for, right? To rehydrate him. Yeah, he didn’t need water. He felt fine!

Well, mostly fine. His head felt a little muzzy, probably from the effects of the fall and alcohol, and his body felt weirdly heavy. He shifted, trying to get comfortable. His crotch was pinched, really pinched, and he tried to reach down to adjust his massive package but Alexei prevented him. 

And then there was a strange sound that took him a while to figure out. It was kind of like an inflating balloon rubbing against plastic. He shifted in the chair and it creaked beneath his weight. That’s weird, he thought, but Alexei was talking and he needed to focus on what he was saying. It sounded important.

“…Guido and Luigi,” Alexei was saying. “They were like Jeremy but easier to work with. Much easier! I had to completely erase Jeremy’s memory for three months but I was able to, um, open their minds with simple hypnosis and a potent drug cocktail. It’s amazing how quickly they adapted to their new lives…and bodies.”

“Ha!” Grant snorted, shifting again in the chair. Why did it feel so small? “New lives as a pair a fuggin’ apes, ya mean! Huh huh huh. Whut a couple a ugly baboons! Baboons wid tiny pee-pees! Huh huh huh!” As he said this, his face prickled uncomfortably. He tried to reach up and scratch it but once again Alexei stopped his hand, moving it back down to his side.

Alexei admonished, “Don’t be cruel, Grant. Not everyone can be as handsome, smart and hung as you are. Here, take a look at what they looked like before. What a transformation!”

Grant cracked an eyelid to stare at the phone in Alexei’s hand. On the screen was a picture of a couple of very cleancut, young frat boys. They were shirtless and their lean, defined torsos were hairless and ripped with elegant muscles. They leered into the camera with shit-eating grins plastered on their handsome faces. 

“Dat’s dem?” he grunted before catching himself. Why did his voice sound so guttural and uneducated?

“Yes,” Alexei admitted. “They are much happier now. Can you believe when I first met them, they were assaulting one of my employees?” He shuddered. “Such cruel boys! They were yelling all sorts of ugly, homophobic slurs! Now they are much more civilized.”

“Huh huh huh! Ci-ci-ci-vi-lized?” Grant chortled. “Try fuggin’ thoopid! Huh huh huh!” He paused, shifting around in the chair and trying to get comfortable. Now the itching had spread and was radiating through his whole body. It felt like his skin was crawling! 

He tried to scratch himself but Alexei stilled his hand, soothing, “Just be still, my boy. You’re healing up really nicely!” 

Alexei changed the IV, removing the sleeve for good and moving the needle over to his left arm again. With each passing moment, Grant felt his body growing heavier as drowsiness settled over him. He was pleasantly relaxed, though, and was drifting on a soporific, pink haze. He loved being like this with Alexei! Treated as an equal, having the man not only recognize his stellar intelligence but also reveal his secrets. He felt so privileged! Alexei wouldn’t confide like this with just anyone! He couldn’t wait to brag about it to Custer. God, was Custer ever wrong about Alexei! The handsome Russian was fighting a good fight, hitting back at homophobes and helping hapless nerds like Jeremy find new meaning. He was a hero!

“How’d ya do dat to ‘em? Turn ‘em into apes, dat is?” His tongue felt so fat in his mouth! 

Alexie stirred at his side just as Grant felt the pinching increase around his groin area. God, it hurt like fuck! Almost like his junk was in a vise. He moaned, trying to lift his arm but finding it impossible. It was way too heavy. 

“Just relax, Grant,” Alexei whispered, placing a cool hand on his forehead. “You’re nearly done.” After a while he continued, answering his question. “I already told you I drugged them, right? I invited them into the club–I can be very convincing when I need to–and dropped a fast-acting depressant into their beers.”

Grant stirred, vaguely uncomfortable at these words. There was a voice in the back of his head, warning him about something but it was too distant and he was too relaxed to pay it much heed.

“Once they were knocked out,” Alexei continued, “I had my assistants carry them back here to my lab and I proceeded to hypnotize them. It’s very easy to do when the patient is already drugged.”

Grant stirred again, trying harder to get comfortable in the chair. The arms on either side of him pressed painfully into his sides. The prickling sensation accelerated all over his body even as he continued to feel sleepier and heavier. At least the pinching in his groin had gone away and the ache in his nose was receding. He closed his eyes, listening to the steady tone of Alexei’s voice.

“After they were drugged and hypnotized,” the Russian was saying, “I injected them with a series of super-concentrated, fast-acting steroids while simultaneously pumping them full of pure protein. It’s miraculous! They gained over a hundred pounds of muscle and fat in less than an hour!”

Grant blinked sleepily. “Ree-ly? Dat’s a-mazin’! Is dat whut ya did to Cus-ter, too? He wuz real ‘roided-up at sum point.”

Alexei nodded. “Yes! Very clever of you, Grant! You really are a stunningly perceptive young man! I used a similar technique with Custer, back when he wanted to be a muscle boi. I had to use a gentler formula on him, though.”

“Wh-Wh-Why?” God, why was it so hard for him to form words?

“Well, the concentrated formula I gave to Luigi and Guido has some unfortunate side effects.”

“Like whut?”

Alexei sighed. “It aged them, for one thing. They were twenty years old but now have the bodies of middle-aged men. And then there’s all the hair…on their bodies, that is. Sadly, the steroids killed all the follicles on their heads. Let’s not forget the visceral fat and cartilage growth, either.”

“Car-til-age?” Grant stammered, mind sluggish. Something really felt wrong but he was powerless to figure out what it was.

“Their ears, noses, lips, joints…you name it!” Alexei said cheerfully. “The steroids cause all of the cartilage in your body to grow uncontrollably, making you unrecognizable to even the people closest to you. You could look at it as a bad thing but I prefer to see it as liberation. They’re now completely different men, living completely different lives. How freeing!”

“Dat’s…dat’s…hor-ri-ble!”

Alexei waved this off. “It’s just the price you pay. I think they’re much happier now. Except for one, um, tiny detail.”

“Whut dat?” Grant’s chest clenched with an unknown dread. Even though he was nearly asleep, he still had a really awful sense of foreboding creeping up on him. Why had he ever thought Alexei was a hero? The man was insane! And cruel! How could he do that to those frats without their consent? Even if they were homophobic, they didn’t deserve the malignant fate that Alexei had forced on them.

Unaware of Grant’s growing unease, Alexei continued glibly, “Their penises are vestigial now.”

“V-V-Ves-ti-gee-all? Huh?”

“Useless and shrunken,” the Russian replied, smiling. “The steroids destroy the erectile tissue and cause the phallus to atrophy along with the testicles. They’re effectively chemically castrated now.”

“WHUT???!!!”

Alexei ignored him and instead pushed himself up from the stool. Removing the IV from Grant’s arm, he dusted off his hands, pronouncing, “Alright, Gino, you’re all ready. Time to get dressed for your new job! You’re scheduled to be at the front door in a half hour.”

“G-G-G-ino?” Grant repeated, both alarmed and confused. “Huh? Who dat?”

“It’s you, silly!” Alexei laughed. “You said you wanted a job and I’m giving you one. You’re Froth’s newest bouncer! Here,” he jingled something. Grant opened his eyes and saw the Russian was holding a bunch of heavy gold chains in one hand and a tiny blue posing strap and string tank in the other. “This is your uniform now. Please put these on and don’t make me wait. I expect my employees to be punctual for their shifts.”

When Grant continued to hesitate, Alexei sighed and bent over, releasing the straps that Grant hadn’t even realized were holding him in place. “Get up, Gino,” he commanded, his tone icy. “NOW.”

Grant blinked up at him stupidly, mouth gaping open. Then he did something he regretted. He looked down at himself.

And promptly started bawling at the top of his lungs.

***

Chapter 8

Baxter sauntered over to Jeremy after his shift was over. Jeremy was still standing in the middle of the bar where Grant had left him over two hours earlier. An empty martini glass containing only a soggy slice of cucumber sat on the table next to him. His massive shoulders were hunched and he hung his head, mindful of the hungry leers cast at his big, wide, naked bottom. Froth had only gotten busier as the night wore on and the bar was packed with wealthy gentlemen on the prowl for man flesh. At least a dozen men had propositioned him, thinking he was one of the staff members. He’d gulped, barely able to make eye contact with them, and turned them down. He felt unmoored without Grant there to look after him.

“There you are, baby!” Baxter purred. “Ready for me to take you home?”

Jeremy looked up and swam in Baxter’s soft, wheat-colored eyes. He really was an incredibly beautiful man, built like a linebacker without the extra padding. His broad body rippled with thick muscles and his deep bronze skin shone lustrous in the dim light. There wasn’t a trace of hair anywhere on his beefy body, other than his eyebrows and cute dreads, of course. 

Unlike Jeremy who possessed an unnaturally wasp-thin waist, Baxter was stout and sturdy, much like the rest of him. Naked save for the red bow tie, his erection was sagging as the erection drug wore off but was still incredibly big and girthy. Seeing the organ flopping downward under its great weight, though, only got Jeremy’s heart beating faster. He liked knowing that Baxter’s body was unenhanced; it felt comforting somehow.

When he stood there mute, salivating over Baxter’s gorgeous body, the bartender prompted, “You really don’t remember me, do ya?”

Jeremy blinked, stammering, “N-N-No, I don’t! I ain’t never seen ya before in my life!”

Baxter grinned, wide lips parting to reveal perfect teeth. “Oh, baby, you done more than see me before! I fucked ya at least a half dozen times. ‘Course, that was a while ago…before all yer changes.” He thrust out his lower lip in a mock pout while wagging his softening erection. “And here I thought I made a…big…impression on ya!” 

Jeremy’s eyes were glued to that slowly drooping hardon. Even as it began to deflate, it was still more than twice as big and thick as Grant’s. He’d heard that black guys had big dicks but had never realized they could be this big!

Baxter watched Jeremy drool over his cock for a moment before clapping a hand to his forehead. “Oh, I forgot! Geeze, how could I be so dumb? Alexei blanked yer mind, didn’t he? You don’t remember nuthin’ from the last three months, do ya?”

Jeremy looked up at this, suddenly worried. “N-N-No, I don’t. Why? Whut happened to me?”

“You mean ‘sides the obvious?” Baxter replied, gesturing down to Jeremy’s himbofied body. “Well, for starters, you and me, uh, happened. Here, lemme refresh yer memory.” With that, he leaned forward and covered Jeremy’s lips with his own, gently caressing his lips with his hot tongue. Jeremy moaned, leaning into the kiss and then Baxter was taking him into his big arms and tilting him backward, holding him tightly in a warm embrace. His tongue explored Jeremy’s mouth with a slow, seductive charm that ignited a firestorm of memories.

Baxter pulled away and set him back on his feet. “See?” he queried, grinning like a canary-fed cat. “I knew my kisses were unforgettable. You remember now, dontcha?”

Panting hard, Jeremy was having trouble speaking. A floodgate had been opened in his mind and he was awash in a sea of formerly sealed memories. “Y-Y-You,” he stammered, massaging his head. “You were there on the night of my birthday, weren’t you?” He was so carried away that he didn’t realize that the block on his intellect had been lifted and he had full access to his mental faculties again.

Baxter nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “Yup! Tole ya I’m unforgettable!”

***

Three months prior…

The doorbell rang almost as soon as Jeremy blew out the candles on his birthday cake. He looked up, wondering who could be at his front door at ten o’clock at night. Cautiously, he got up and peered through the keyhole. To his surprise, he saw a handsome black man wearing a red top hat and matching tie. The man was grinning.

Jeremy gasped with sudden recognition, heart suddenly pounding. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He couldn’t believe that Baxter Christian was actually at his front door! And on his birthday, too!

He panicked, looking down at himself. He was wearing only a pair of ratty boxers and a stained t-shirt. His round belly stuck out noticeably from underneath the hem of the shirt. It was pale and squishy.

He looked awful! There’s no way he could let Baxter see him like this!

There was another knock and, when Jeremy hesitated, Baxter’s voice boomed from behind the door, “C’mon, Birthday Boy! I know yer in there! Time to open yer present!”

For reasons that he didn’t fully understand, Jeremy found himself opening the door.

As soon as it cracked open, Baxter burst into his apartment. Jeremy gaped in disbelief when he saw Baxter–THE Baxter Christian!!!!–was completely naked, save for a red ribbon tied around his incredibly huge, soft cock.

“Tada!” Baxter announced, holding out his beefy arms, dick slapping against his thick thighs. “Here I am! I’m yer birthday present, Jeremy!”

Jeremy flushed scarlet and tried to back away. His mind blanked, unable to comprehend how this was happening. He’d been cyberstalking Baxter for over a year. First on Instagram and then on Twitter and finally on OnlyFans, he’d been obsessed with the big, hung, black man from the moment he saw his provocative profile picture…the profile of his cock, that is. Baxter was magnetic. And beautiful. And hot. And, let’s not forget, hung!

Jeremy had never been smitten with a man before. Ever since adolescence, his crushes had always been female. He never even looked at other guys and certainly never looked at them naked. One evening, though, while scrolling through Instagram, he was transfixed by a photo of Baxter. Wearing just a thong, the dude was standing in profile to the camera. His package sagged down before him, spilling out of the pouch and leaving nothing to the imagination.

Jeremy rationalized the crush by telling himself that he just wanted to be like Baxter. Baxter was a big, hung, studly man. Who wouldn’t want to be him, especially when you were as pathetic and anemic and un-hung as Jeremy? Yes, that was it! He just wanted to be him. He didn’t want to be with him. No! That would be gay. And he certainly didn’t want to have sex with him. Ugh! Talk about gross!

Now, however, with Baxter standing naked before him, Jeremy was beside himself. What the fuck was going on? And why was he getting so hot and bothered? (His little pecker was chubbing up in his boxers.) As the silence stretched between them, his eyes dropped down to that beautiful cock. It was starting to stand up.

Baxter was getting hard!

“Wh-Wh-Why’re ya here?” he stammered, cheeks flaming under his patchy, blond beard. “How’d ya know where I live? And how’d ya know it was my birthday today?”

In answer, Baxter swept him off his feet and kissed him. Leaning Jeremy back in his arms, he lowered him nearly down to the floor, bending over him and opening his mouth. His tongue was on Jeremy’s lips and then inside them. Jeremy, completely stunned, responded. Tentatively at first but then with growing passion, he kissed Baxter back. Baxter chuckled deep in his throat, working his hands under the waistband of Jeremy’s boxers and caressing his buttocks.

“So big, so soft!” he moaned, squeezing his fat bottom. “So perfect!”

Jeremy led a very inactive lifestyle and spent all of his free time gaming. When he wasn’t gaming, he was at work…sitting on his ass. As a consequence, his buttocks were quite large, heavy, shapeless and hairy. He’d never even imagined that it was possible for someone to like them. He’d always been embarrassed by his big ass, especially given his tiny legs and sticklike arms. He looked like a pear on toothpicks!

Baxter expertly worked Jeremy backwards, pushing him inexorably toward the bedroom. He kept him busy with his tongue and hands exploring regions of Jeremy’s body that had never been touched by a lover before. Jeremy knew he should resist, that he wasn’t gay, that this was too good to be true…but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He’d been alone for so long! And today was perhaps the saddest birthday of his life, a real pit of hopelessness.

He needed to be loved.

Badly.

And so he let Baxter love him.

***

He was on the bed.

Baxter was lifting his t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

Baxter was shimmying his boxers down his meager thighs…with his teeth.

Jeremy’s little pecker sprang free, all four and three quarters inches of it. It was slender and circumcised, insubstantial in the extreme especially when Baxter straddled his lap, his hulking eighteen-incher swaying languidly overhead. Baxter’s dick was thicker than Jeremy’s upper arm…when he was flexing. It was a truly man-sized appendage and Jeremy felt completely insignificant in comparison.

He got even harder.

Comparing his boy-sized pee-pee against Baxter’s man-sized cock turned him on like crazy.

Baxter produced a bottle of lube from somewhere–Had he been clenching it between his buttocks?–and squirted several globs into his palm. Then he took Jeremy’s hand and, warming the lube first, wiped the globs onto his palms. “Get me ready, Jeremy,” he purred. “I’m gonna fuck ya.”

Jeremy looked up at him, swallowing. He’d never even considered gay sex before. The closest he’d come to anal was when he tried to poke a finger in a girl’s butthole once. (She’d slapped him.) The thought of having anal sex was anathema to him, especially as the receiving partner. He wanted to object, knew he had to resist if he wanted to continue his life as a straight man!

But he didn’t.

He rubbed his hands together until they were dripping with lube and then reached out and touched another man’s penis for the first time in his life.

Baxter’s cock was ENORMOUS!!!

AND HARD!!!

AND THROBBING!!!

AND SO BEAUTIFUL!!!

He moaned and Baxter moaned along with him, throwing back his head. The sound that came out of his big chest was deep and profoundly arousing.

And then Baxter was urging Jeremy’s knees upward, telling him to lift his buttocks and get ready. He reached down and traced a thick finger around the circumference of Jeremy’s hairy pucker, causing him to whimper. And then he pushed it inside. His finger was covered in lube so it slid in without much effort. Jeremy whined. Now that he was getting finger-fucked, he wasn’t so sure about this!

“Shhhh,” Baxter sighed, lowering his head and kissing him. He teased Jeremy’s lips apart and licked his teeth. “Relax. I’m a professional. I know how to do this. You won’t regret it!”

Then he leaned forward over Jeremy’s tilted buttocks and aimed the circumcised head of his cock at his hole, gently but insistently pressing forward. Jeremy writhed on the bed, worried about taking such a huge dick, but Baxter didn’t relent. Slowly but surely, he coaxed Jeremy to unpucker and then thrust ever so slightly forward with his hips. Jeremy cried out, feeling that big, blunt cockhead part his pucker and push against his tight sphincter.

“Easy, baby, that’s it!” Baxter soothed. “The sphincter’s the most painful part. Once I’m through, you’ll be in heaven. Juss lemme in. I wanna be inside you. I want all of me inside you. I never want us to be apart again.”

For some reason, this brought tears to Jeremy’s eyes. He screwed his eyelids shut but the tears trickled out and down his cheeks. Baxter leaned forward and licked them off.

“I’m yours, Jeremy,” he promised. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

Jeremy opened his mouth and his hole with these words, they were the key that unlocked his homsexuality and set him off down the road to becoming a himbo bottom. Baxter grunted with happiness, not waiting for Jeremy to reconsider, and slid the first foot of his incredibly fat member inside him. Jeremy arched his back, howling with both pain and ecstasy. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. And yet he wanted more! The sensation of having a hulking cock inside his ass, he understood then, was all he’d ever wanted. No wonder he’d been so unhappy with women! 

“Fuck,” Baxter sighed, still thrusting inexorably deeper. “So tight! So hot! Jeremy, yer the best bottom I’ve ever had the pleasure of fuckin’! Yer my baby! My baby boy!”

Jeremy responded by clinging to Baxter’s broad back, hugging him tightly and inviting him in deeper. Baxter shoved his way in, reassured by Jeremy’s obvious pleasure, and soon Jeremy was screaming at the top of his voice, clawing Baxter’s back, and begging him to destroy his hole.

Baxter stopped, mid-thrust, and looked him in the eye. “Sorry, baby. I ain’t gonna do that. If I destroyed yer hole, you’d have to wear diapers for the rest of your life.” He made a face, shaking his head. “Nah, that ain’t gonna happen. ‘Sides, I tole ya I’m a pro. I know how to fuck a virgin manhole and leave ya ready for more.”

He resumed thrusting. True to his word, he knew how to treat a hole and left Jeremy aching and on fire but did no lasting damage. Jeremy learned how to time his hip gyrations with Baxter’s pounding and they slipped into an ever-accelerating rhythm until both men erupted in a well-timed orgasm. Baxter lifted his head and howled like a wolf while Jeremy squealed like a piggy beneath him. Together, they climaxed, Jeremy coating Baxter’s firm belly with his seed and Baxter filling him to overflowing with cum. It trickled out, wetting the sheets beneath his bottom and leaving him feeling naughty.

Baxter sagged down on top of him, his massive cock still firmly lodged inside of him. He nibbled Jeremy’s lower lip for a while, smiling indulgently down at him. His wheaten eyes were soft, loving. They brought tears to Jeremy’s eyes.

“Aw, baby,” Baxter cooed, kissing him gently. “Don’t ya cry! I’m yer birthday present, not a funeral offerin’!”

Somehow this made Jeremy cry harder. Baxter sighed, taking him in his powerful arms and squeezing him tightly. He kept whispering soothing words in his ear until finally Jeremy stopped. Then Baxter licked the tears off his cheeks.

“If I could give ya anything,” Baxter asked finally, eyes shining in the dim light. “What would ya want?”

Jeremy didn’t need to think about that at all. “You!” he pronounced. “I’d want to be with you!”

Baxter chuckled. “Dat’s already a given, baby. Yer not gettin’ rid of me.” He hesitated before continuing, “I mean, eventually. If I get my way, that is.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy’s voice was small, almost childlike.

Looking off to the side, Baxter replied. “It’s a deal I made. The only way I’d agree to do this.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened as he deduced the meaning behind these words. Then he started struggling, trying hard to get away from Baxter. “I knew it! I knew it was too good to be true!” he cried. “I knew the only way someone like you would have sex with me is if he was paid.” Seething with both anger and humiliation, he spit, “Tell me the truth! Tell me who paid you to do this!”

Baxter was undeterred. “So the kitten does have claws after all,” he teased. “Would ya juss calm down for one second an’ lemme ‘splain myself?” Jeremy tried to bite his lip but Baxter merely pulled his head back, keeping those succulent lips away from Jeremy’s teeth. Finally, he gave up and lay back on the bed, staring daggers up at Baxter.

Baxter smiled. “There. Much better. Now, it’s true that I didn’t do dis–” he gestured to their sexual position, his cock still thrust so far inside Jeremy that he could feel it pressing against his breastbone, “without some convincin’ but that’s not ‘cuz I didn’t wanna fuck ya silly. It’s ‘cuz I didn’t wanna do it for money.”

“Huh? That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Jeremy,” Baxter asked, leaning down so close that Jeremy couldn’t look away, “do you know who I really am?”

Jeremy rolled his eyes, wiggling his butt and trying to get that cock out. “Yer Baxter Christian. Influencer, muscle god and gay idol.”

“Nice. ‘Gay idol’? I like that.” Baxter smiled before continuing, “I mean, do you know who I am to you?”

Jeremy’s scowl deepened. “The man-whore who just fucked my boy pussy?”

Baxter pouted. “That’s not very nice!” He lowered his mouth and kissed Jeremy’s forehead. Jeremy tried to turn away but he was caught fast in Baxter’s arms. “Does the screen name, ‘18inches+,’ ring a bell?” He paused significantly, waiting for Jeremy to make the connection. It didn’t take long!

Jeremy blinked, eyes going round. “Y-Y-You’re 18inches+?” he stammered, unable to finish the sentence.

Baxter nodded, looking extremely pleased with himself. “The one and the same. Yer best bro from Discord.” He narrowed those gorgeous eyes. “I know everything ‘bout you, baby boy. I know what ya like to eat for breakfast. I know how many women you’ve fucked. How many times you’ve paid for a blowjob. Where you peed in yer boss’s office to get back at him.” He closed his eyes, announcing proudly, “I know it all ‘cuz ya tole it to me.”

Jeremy’s poor brain (and hole) were aching. He couldn’t believe that Baxter was really his Discord friend. His only friend, that is. 

He stared up at the handsome man, struggling to make himself believe it. Guys like Baxter didn’t like guys like him! Finally, though, he remembered something that had seemed coincidental at the time: 18inches+ had befriended him on Discord soon after Jeremy had found Baxter’s ‘after dark’ account on Twitter. Jeremy’s Discord handle was on his Twitter profile so it was plausible that Baxter had seen it there. 

His cheeks colored and he realized he’d posted some provocative ass pics on Twitter, tagging Baxter. It was safe, he’d reasoned, because he used an alias and was effectively anonymous. He’d posted the butt-selfies on impulse after browsing Baxter’s likes and realizing he liked boys with big, fat bottoms. He’d taken the pics down almost immediately but obviously not before Baxter had seen them. Baxter had never commented on the pics but clearly Jeremy had caught the dude’s interest enough for him to befriend him on Discord.

Gazing up at Baxter with wide eyes, he stuttered, “Y-Y-You stalked me? But I thought I stalked you!”

“What can I say?” Baxter asked, shrugging. “I like white boys with big butts.” When Jeremy frowned, he added, “But the truth is I’ve grown to like you, Jeremy. And I want you! Not juss ‘cuz yer cute and sexy and so fuckin’ hot. I want you ‘cuz yer you!”

This was too much for poor Jeremy to handle. He was already beginning to worry about his impulsive decision to let Baxter fuck him. Would his poor hole ever recover? He started second guessing himself, blushing when he remembered begging Baxter to destroy his butthole. Thank goodness Baxter hadn’t listened! From the slackness down there, he could tell he’d never be the same. He prayed he’d be able to clench his pucker again! Maybe there were exercises he could do? You know, to strengthen his anal muscles? Didn’t women do stuff like that? He’d have to Google it after Baxter was gone (and his monster cock was out of his hole)!

As obsessed as he was about his anal health, though, he was even more flummoxed by the revelation that Baxter was 18Inches+ from Discord. He’d never met the dude before but, Baxter was right, he’d shared everything with him. They’d met playing an online game and struck up a friendship. Jeremy had found it easy to confide in 18inches+, probably because he’d never seen the dude and probably never would. Thus reassured by his anonymity, he’d told Baxter everything. Everything. 

He shuddered, looking up into the dude’s dancing eyes. “I-I-I can’t believe this is happening,” he muttered, cheeks burning. “This can’t be real.”

Baxter shoved his cock deeper inside him, causing Jeremy to yelp. His dick was hard again. Very hard. “Don’t this feel real?” he teased.

It was then that Baxter demonstrated his experience as a hung top. He slowly but surely stoked Jeremy’s fire again with his expertly timed thrusts, fondling his little pee-pee and driving him to another explosive orgasm.

And another.

And another.

Finally, after a half dozen of them, Jeremy was spent. Baxter had successfully worn down all of his defenses and he was putty in his hands (and around his cock.) Jeremy was tired and riding on a cloud of bliss, feeling like his whole body had become an extension of Baxter’s. Baxter was in charge. Completely. Jeremy would do anything for him.

“What do you want, Jeremy?” Baxter pressed, coaxing his eyes open again when Jeremy started to nod off. “What can I give you? What do you want more than anything else in the world?” He laughed to himself. “‘Sides me, ‘course!”

Jeremy thought back to the wish he’d made earlier that evening when he’d blown out the candles on his birthday cake. Suddenly, he knew exactly what he wanted; Baxter had shown him the way. Flushing with shame and self-consciousness, he reluctantly met Baxter’s gaze.

“Tell me, baby boy,” his new lover (!) urged. “Please tell me!”

“I can’t, uh, say it out loud,” Jeremy mewled, squirming. “And you gotta promise not to laugh.”

Baxter smiled indulgently. “‘Course not! I could never laugh at you! Juss tell me!”

In answer, Jeremy lifted his head and, cupping his hand next to Baxter’s ear, whispered his wish.

After he’d uttered the words, Baxter grew serious. He gazed steadily back at him before looking over Jeremy’s shoulder. “You know what, baby,” he said in a sad tone, “that’s exactly what McClellan was hoping you’d say.” He smiled sadly. “I guess he was right ‘bout you after all.”

“McClellan? Huh? What’s he got to do with anything?” Confused, Jeremy followed Baxter’s eyes, looking back over his shoulder as he heard the bedroom door creak open. He jerked in shock when he saw his boss and a strangely dressed older man entering the room. “Hey!” he shouted, trying to cover himself up. “What the fuck are you doing in here?! Get out!”

The strange older man smiled coldly, removing his old-fashioned porkpie hat and inclining his head. “I’m afraid you actually did just invite us in, Jeremy.” He tapped a little earpiece affixed to the side of his head. “We heard everything and we’re here to make your wish come true.” 

Panicking, Jeremy looked back at Baxter, noticing for the first time that the handsome man wore a mic behind his ear. Baxter turned away, abashed.

“Baxter!” he cried. “What did you do?”

McClellan’s hand was on his bare shoulder, pulling him off of Baxter. “He did exactly what we asked him to do, Jeremy. Now, why don’t you come with us?”

Before Jeremy could react, he thrust a needle into his neck and he lost consciousness, his vision fading to black. The last thing he saw was Baxter’s beautiful, sad eyes gazing back at him. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

***

Chapter 9

Back in the present at Froth…

“You were bait!” Jeremy yelled at Baxter as his memories flooded back. His shout startled everyone around them; men turned to look questioningly at him but he didn’t care. “I can’t fuckin’ believe it! You sold me out!”

Baxter looked chagrined, setting him back on his feet after their kiss. “Yeah, I did. I’m sorry, Jeremy.”

“That doesn’t even begin to–” Jeremey started to say before he caught himself, remembering what he’d whispered in Baxter’s ear just before Alexei and McClellan had shone up and drugged him. “Oh, I get it now. They made my wish come true, didn’t they? I told you I wanted to be a big bottom boy, made for your pleasure.” He looked down at his vastly changed, muscular and tantalizing body. His big butt in particular caught his attention; it was so huge! He sighed. “Looks like I got my wish.”

“Yep, you did.” Baxter reached out and took him in his arms, hugging him. Jeremy didn’t resist. He was too busy kicking himself. “But I’m sure you had no idea yer wish’d be granted so literally. Sorry ‘bout dat! Real sorry. Plus, baby boy, ya gotta believe me: I loved you before you changed.” He spread his hands. “I thought you were the sexiest man alive! When I met ya in person for the first time that night, it was like you’d stepped outta my dreams.” His gaze grew far off as he lost himself in the memory. “That’s why I volunteered to be the bait when McClellan and Alexei tole us himbo tops ‘bout you and asked which one of us wanted to trap you. I raised my hand an’ said I’d pop yer gay cherry–without the help of any erection drugs, I might add.” He smiled proudly. “They was real surprised.”

“Yer such a slut,” Jeremy teased. He knew he should be more upset with Baxter, should be furious. But he couldn’t make himself. No, not when he’d asked for this. He understood then how he’d stepped right into McClellan and Alexei’s trap. And he had a strong hunch that, even if he hadn’t taken Baxter’s bait, McClellan and Alexei would still have kidnapped him.

“I’m a slut, huh?” Baxter released him, folding his arms. “Who just got his hole stretched by a skinny white boy with a big dick?” He thrust out his lower lip. “An’ I thought ya loved me!” He laughed at Jeremy’s bark of protest and pulled him in for another hug. He held him so fiercely that Jeremy had to gasp for breath. “I’m SO glad yer back in my arms, baby boy! I’m never gonna let go again. Yer mine forever now. You know that?”

Jeremy rested his head against Baxter’s smooth, muscular chest. “I’m glad, really glad but–?”

“Yeah?” Baxter was gazing down at him with such fondness that it nearly broke Jeremy’s heart.

“What about Froth and Spume? Alexei and McClellan?” he gestured toward his big, bloated, oversexed body. “They’re not gonna let us go easily, are they? They gotta make their money back. It musta cost a fortune doing this to me!”

Baxter’s eyebrows lifted. “I can see yer brains finally came back, baby boy. Musta been the kiss that broke Alexei’s block.” He frowned. “Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Still, yer too smart for yer own good, you know that? That’s why Alexei dumbed ya down in the first place.”

“Well? Am I wrong?”

Baxter hung his head. “No, yer not wrong. I’m under contract. Got eight more years til I’m free.” He lifted his head to gaze lovingly but sadly at him. “And you got ten.”

“Ten years?!” Jeremy repeated, mind reeling. “What do I have to do for ten years?”

Baxter looked off to the side. “I’ll give ya two guesses, baby boy. An’ I’ll give ya a hint, too.” He dropped his hand down to Jeremy’s buttocks, working his finger into his cleft and massaging his still-loose hole. “This hole’s gonna get a lot more gapin’ over the next ten years.”

Jeremy clenched his buttocks, trapping Baxter’s hand as if in a vise. “You can’t be serious! I don’t wanna get fucked by a bunch of random guys!”

“You don’t?” a familiar voice called out behind them. Jeremy spun around, finding McClellan standing there. He was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a tight, black t-shirt that showed off his impressive musculature…and big bulge. When he met Jeremy’s eyes, his face split into a feral leer. “That’s too bad, boy. ‘Cuz I’m so lookin’ forward to fuckin’ yer hole raw!”

***

“That’s my final offer.”

McClellan leaned back in his chair, a Cheshire cat grin on his handsome face. Jeremy and Baxter glared back at him but they were powerless to do anything. They were effectively servants of Froth and Spume for years to come. McClellan held up their contracts, both had been signed and notarized. There was no way out. Not without an expensive legal battle and neither Jeremy nor Baxter had the wherewithal to wage one.

Jeremy crossed his arms defiantly. “There has to be another way! I’m not taking loads up my ass for ten years!” He paused, glancing wryly over at Baxter. “I mean, not from strangers, that is.” Baxter grinned, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

McClellan started to answer but was interrupted when the door swung open behind them. Jeremy turned to see Alexei sauntering into the little back office where McClellan had taken them to discuss the terms of their contracts. He looked tired but very pleased with himself. 

“There is one way,” he informed them, turning to McClellan. “Did you tell them about the exit clause?”

“Exit clause?” Jeremy asked, suddenly hopeful. 

 Beside him, Baxter groaned. “Trust me, baby boy,” he said, looking haunted. “You don’t want to invoke the exit clause.” He shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Why?” Jeremy demanded. “What is it?”

“A pound of flesh,” Alexei stated, before amending, “Well, in your case, ten. One for every year left in your contract.” He smiled with fa;se munificence. “Of course, Baxter only needs to surrender eight.”

No longer dumbed down, Jeremy understood all too clearly that Alexei wasn’t joking. When he said a pound of flesh, he meant it: He would take the flesh right off his body. His face went pale and he stammered, “Y-Y-You can’t be serious!”

Alexei nodded solemnly. “Deadly serious. It’s the only way we’ll let you out of here early.” He brightened, looking very smug. “Which is why no one has ever invoked the clause before.”

There was silence while Jeremy sat there, grinding his teeth in frustration. McClellan smirked at Alexei, confident in his hold over the two hapless men. At the last moment, though, Jeremy surprised everyone by stating, “I’ll do it.”

Alexei and McClellan’s eyebrows lifted. Next to him, Baxter cried out in alarm, clapping his hand over Jeremy’s mouth. “No, Jeremy! You can’t! I won’t let you!”

Jeremy reached up and gently removed Baxter’s hand. Gazing fondly at his new boyfriend, he said, “Trust me. I’m fine with it. You’ll see.” Turning to Alexei, he asked, “Do I at least get to decide which part of my body the ten pounds come from?”

Alexei nodded, eyes dancing. “Most assuredly.”

He’s getting off on this! Jeremy thought, chilled to the bone. What a sick fuck!

He really didn’t relish going under Alexei’s knife (again, although he still didn’t remember the first time) and losing a big chunk of his body. But what choice did he have? It was a devil’s bargain and he would lose no matter what. The only choice he had was between the lesser of two evils and he wasn’t about to be bred by rich men for ten years. That was a far worse fate!

***

He emerged from Alexei’s lab the next evening, aching and sore. Forbidden to enter the Russian’s lair during the procedure, Baxter was waiting for him in the hallway outside. Immediately moving to his side, he took Jeremy’s arm and propped him up, asking, “You Ok, baby? You look terrible!”

Jeremy smiled weakly, quipping, “I feel ten pounds lighter!”

“Not funny,” Baxter complained. “I can’t believe you did this!”

“It was the only way. I’ve got to get my old life back.” Jeremy winced, stifling a moan of pain. “At least now I can show my face in public again with everyone assuming I’m a gay whore.” He shivered. “It really was awful being trapped in that body!”

Baxter was looking him up and down. “You haven’t changed that much,” he observed. “Yer still a big ol’ himbo bottom. In fact, it looks like Alexei took the opportunity to add even more silicone to yer booty while you were knocked out. I don’t think they make pants big enough to fit it now. Are you sure you made the right choice?”

Jeremy frowned, looking back at his ass. His heart sank when he realized Baxter was right: It was definitely bigger. A lot bigger. It had been obscenely huge before; now it was just plain ridiculous. He set his jaw, realizing Alexei hadn’t removed ten pounds from his body, he’d just shifted it. Fuck! The man really was the devil!

He was about to speak when Alexei emerged, freshly scrubbed from surgery and looking very dapper if somewhat sinister. “Congratulations, Jeremy,” he said, placing a hand on his mountainous buttocks. “You’re now a free man–I mean, person.”

Jeremy shook him off, grimacing with distaste both that the Russian’s touch and the rampant jiggling the touch set off in his massively siliconed cheeks. Hunching his shoulders, he let Baxter help him out of the clinic. They made it to the exit and were about to call an Uber when Jeremy heard someone–or something–wailing pathetically. He looked over to see Guido and Luigi laughing loudly. Their backs were to them, blocking the view of the third man who was kneeling before them. It was this man who was bawling so dejectedly. Curious, Jeremy urged Baxter to help him move closer so he would see what was wrong.

“Huh huh huh!” Guido (or Luigi) was chortling. “Looks at da purdy boi now! Not so purdy no more, huh? Har har har! Now gets up an’ gets ta werk! Ya betta earn yer keep!” Beside him, Luigi (or Guido) brayed his head off, sounding like a sick mule.

Jeremy and Baxter finally managed to peer around the enormous men. Their mouths fell open in revolted horror. Groveling at the goons’ feet was a hideous gorilla of a man. And I do mean a gorilla! The dude’s body was so deformed he was forced to hunch over and rest his weight on his knuckles. Pumped full of steroids and overblown with vascular fat, his body was grotesquely bloated. 

The ape was facing Guido and Luigi, his rear end stuck out behind him. Even though the goon was facing them, Jeremy could see something behind the man–if you could call him that–that set him apart from his simian brethren: He’d been cursed with the biggest, hairiest ass imaginable. His buttocks were swollen beyond all proportion, more akin to massive, misshapen beach balls than a man’s butt. They made Jeremy’s laughably enhanced globes look petite! The mutant cheeks were obviously heavy, too, dragging his back end down and forcing him to crouch splay-legged.

He was even hairier than Guido and Luigi…and uglier. The features of his thick face were distorted and caricatured. His forehead sloped backward and his brow thrust outward in a heavy shelf over his beady eyes. His ears would have been more at home on an elephant. His lower jaw bunched forward and his canines were so long they looked like tusks. His lips were mottled and floppy, puffing out as he gasped for breath. Tears rolled down his hairy cheeks and his body exuded a truly repugnant odor. Jeremy covered his nose, breathing through his mouth.

Unlike the rest of his body, the top of his head was completely bald and shone dully in the dim streetlight. He looked like he was in his late forties, maybe even older.

“Me no ape!” the ape protested in voice more akin to an animal’s bestial grunting. “Me man! Me don’t belong here! Halp me!”

Jeremy stared. The ugly creature had a hunchback and he wore heavy gold chains around his bull neck, a blue string tank…and a matching posing strap. Even hunched over, though, Jeremy could see the pouch of that strap was completely empty.

The ape had been neutered.

“Me hung top!” the beastman wailed. “Me no ape!”

At that moment, he (or it?) became aware of Jeremy. His squinty eyes got momentarily large and his maw fell open. “Jare-a-meeee!” he spluttered, reaching out with a hugely deformed mitt. “It me, Grrrrrrrrant! ‘Mem-ber meeee? Halp meeee! Pleeze halps meeeee! Me don’t belong heeeeeer!”

Jeremy had to resist the urge to snatch his hand away. “Grant?” he repeated skeptically. “No way. You can’t be Grant!” He squinted, trying to see anything of the young, hot stud in the ape’s visage but couldn’t detect any. Maybe the eyes were like Grant’s? But it was so dark he couldn’t really tell.

“Me Grrrrant! Me reeely Grrrant!” the ape wailed. “L-L-L-Lexi trrrrricked meee! Ya gots ta halp meeee! Turn me baaack! Me can’t live like dis! Me no ape! Me hung top!”

Jeremy’s mouth was hanging open. His head was aching from the aftereffects of his surgery and the painkillers were starting to wear off. A dull, insistent pain throbbed in his groin area and he felt weak. He didn’t have the energy or emotional strength right then to process yet another one of Alexei’s mind bending horrors. Was there nothing the man wouldn’t do to people? He shuddered, pulling back from Grant and telling Baxter, “C’mon, bro. Just take me home. I can’t deal with this right now.”

He turned his back on Grant, leaning heavily on Baxter’s arm. Luigi and Guido’s raucous laughter brayed out behind them as Grant stared up in stunned disbelief at him. Pain and betrayal were etched on his unlovely features. Tears filled his eyes again and he sobbed inconsolably, “Pleeeeeze don’t leeeeeve meeeee, Jare-a-meeee! Pleeeze halp meeeee!”

Jeremy leaned his head on Baxter’s shoulder and limped away.

***

Nine Months Later on February 14, 2026

“Blow out yer candles and make a wish, baby!”

Jeremy smiled up at Baxter, heart filled with joy. The past nine months since he’d escaped Alexei and McClellan’s clutches had been the happiest of his life. He’d managed to slowly rebuild his life, getting a new job as an assistant to a plastic surgeon. The job was a good one for him because it was both challenging and allowed the doctor to use him as a model to demonstrate the results of his techniques to prospective clients. The added benefit–and the real reason he took the job–was that the doctor had agreed to remove the silicone implants from his body…at a very low cost to Jeremy. Oh, his body was still replete with implants but there were fewer of them now and he wasn’t quite as self-conscious when he went out in public. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Baxter had convinced him to leave the giant implants in his ass, a decision that Jeremy still questioned. He hated how everyone stared at it…but he couldn’t deny it was a huge hit with the doctor’s clients.

Determined not to go back to his old sedentary ways, he’d started working out with Baxter and was on the way to developing real muscles. Even better, he’d gotten accustomed to being eunuch. He barely remembered what it felt like to have a cock and balls between his legs and didn’t miss them very much. With Baxter’s cock up his ass all the time and the transplanted erectile tissue around his butthole to provide him with truly mind-blowing orgasms, who needed a cock anyway?

Yes, the ten pounds of flesh he’d opted to give up had all come from his groin region. Successfully severed from his body, his vastly engorged genitals weighed exactly ten pounds. Alexei had been inclined to quibble over silicone not being flesh but he gave in eventually and accepted Jeremy’s ‘donation’ (probably because he’d sneakily added ten more pounds of silicone to his buttocks.)

Jeremy embraced his new life as a nullo bottom, even having a tattoo inked over the scar left from the nullification. Bold, black letters proclaimed, ‘NULLO PRIDE’ over his little, smooth mound. It sure got stares when he was in the shower at the gym!

While he might occasionally feel a twinge of humiliation for being nullo, Baxter loved his empty crotch and that was more important than Jeremy’s manly pride. His lover would spend hours caressing and licking it, driving him wild. Only when Jeremy was on the verge of insanity would Baxter consent to fuck him, inserting his huge tool into Jeremy’s very well-used and wide-open hole. With practice, they’d even perfected the art of genital-free orgasms. Jeremy’s butt would clench and he’d spasm, ejaculating a tiny drop of clear ‘honey’ from his pee hole. Baxter would lap it up, grinning proudly.

He loved it.

He loved Baxter.

And he even loved his body.

Well, mostly.

Who would’ve thought that it would take getting turned into a siliconed himbo freak to make him finally love himself? He shook his head, smiling.

“Well?” Baxter prompted. “What’s yer wish, Birthday Boy? I’ll give ya anything ya want!”

“Anything?” Jeremy asked coyly.

“Anything!”

“In that case,” Jeremy said, wiggling his index finger and inviting Baxter to lean in close. When Baxter obliged, Jeremy surprised him with a kiss.

“No fair!” his studly lover complained (after kissing him passionately back). “Ya gotta make a wish! I’m holding ya to it!. 

“Well, Ok, if you say so!” Jeremy cupped his hand over Baxter’s ear, whispering, “Here’s what I want…” A tear in his eye, he put the wish that had been in his heart into words.

Baxter let out a long, low whistle and was about to reply when the door to their apartment swung open and Alexei and McClellan entered. They were holding a bottle of champagne and a bouquet of roses. Twenty-six roses, to be precise, one for every year of Jeremy’s life.

“We heard there was a party,” Alexei announced, holding out the roses for Jeremy. “And didn’t want to be left out.”

***