Note: As many of you are no doubt aware, race change stories are problematic for a number of reasons. I know this story isn’t perfect and that I’ve fetishized Arab men a bit in writing it. My hope is that I’ve also presented the characters in a more or less balanced way so that their humanity shines through the stereotypes. When it comes down to it, well–Darn it!–I live near Dearborn and find men of Arabic descent insanely attractive. So there. 🙂

***

Themes: Circumcision, chode, muscle growth, cock growth, race change, clueless, dumber, weight gain, (extreme) butt growth, cock shrinking, humiliation, weight gain, tattoos, Arab men

***

Quick links

• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3
• Chapter 4
• Chapter 5
• Chapter 6
• Epilogue – Posted 24 November 2024

***

Chapter 1

Sebastian Rexley quickly came to regret his decision to rent a room to his boss’s son, Barrett. The problem wasn’t just that Barrett was a slob, it was also that the only room he had available was his kids’ bedroom. This meant that Barrett had to sleep on the couch on the weekends when Sebastian’s boys, Ben and Loren, were staying over. The house was small enough as it is but on the weekends when the kids were there, it felt positively claustrophobic. 

The Saturday morning sunlight streamed through the smudged sliding glass window and he sighed, taking in the tangled mass of blankets over Barrett’s sleeping body. As was the young jock’s habit, he’d been out late partying the night before–Friday was the night of the dude’s rugby match–and he hadn’t stumbled in until nearly five in the morning. 

There was a trail of his clothes strewn across the living room. His jeans were by the front door, followed by his t-shirt, and then his socks and finally his stained boxer shorts were lying atop the lampshade. Sebastian plucked them off, noting with distaste the prominent brown ‘skidmarks’ staining the crotch. He dropped them along with the rest of the guy’s clothes into the laundry basket and, grabbing his crutches, made his way clumsily down the basement stairs into the laundry room.

Grabbing the stain remover, he methodically examined all of the clothes, spritzing his white dress shirts to remove any trace of ring around the collar and dousing the grass stains on Ben’s soccer shorts. He had picked up Barrett’s boxers, grimacing at their potent odor, when a hand grabbed them away. He looked over in surprise to find Barrett standing there with a sheet wrapped around his middle.

“Dude,” the jock-bro scolded, “I can wash my own underwear!” He glanced over at Sebastian’s crutches and scowled. “You said you’d let me do the laundry anyways. You shouldn’t be coming down here with a sprained ankle! You could fall down the stairs and hurt yerself even worse!”

“S-S-Sorry! I must’ve woken you up!” Sebastian tried to take the boxers back but Barrett stuffed them inside his sheet. 

“Just go upstairs!” Barrett’s face was red with embarrassment as he pointed to the basement doorway. “The kids are gonna wake up soon.” He looked up at the ceiling, lowering his voice. “Sooner if you keep arguing with me.”

Only when Barrett physically barred his access to the washing machine did Sebastian grab his crutches and hobble back up the steps. He was making coffee when Barrett emerged from the basement, yawning loudly and scratching his tangled, brownish curls. He looked down with chagrine at the sheet wrapped around his thick waist, asking, “Can I wear some of yer clothes?” He held out his arms to display his clothing predicament. “You just put mine in the wash and I can’t go into my bedr–er, the kid’s bedroom until they wake up.” 

Sebastian glanced over at him, realizing for the first time how muscular the big jock was. Barrett had only moved in a week ago and Sebastian had barely seen him since then. It wasn’t like Barrett didn’t make his presence known, though. He’d eaten half of the food in the refrigerator the first night after moving in. Every day, Sebastian would return home from work to find dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, plates strewn across the living room floor and dirty clothes in the bathroom. The life of a college jock seemed to involve a lot of late nights and a lot of eating. Not to mention alcohol. Beer cans filled the recycling bin in the pantry.

Looking at his ripped physique, Sebastian could tell the jock worked as a personal trainer on the side. Sebastian knew from his boss that Barrett lived a busy lifestyle between his kinesiology coursework and rugby training. In order to earn extra money for rent, he worked evenings at the gym down the street. He shook his head at the boundless energy of a twenty-something. His own days of burning the candle at both ends were long over. Now he barely had the energy to keep up with work, childrearing…and cleaning up after his new tenant.

And speaking of that tenant, Barrett would never be called handsome. He was balding prematurely, for one thing. His features were too blocky and his thinning, unruly hair was the color of dirty dishwater. His thick nose had been broken during a rugby match and reset crooked. His beard was scraggly. The lobe of his left ear had been torn clean off. His front teeth were chipped and uneven. When he smiled, his gap-toothed grin made him look like an idiot.

Nevertheless, the jock possessed an imposing stature and an unexpected charisma that left an impression, particularly on the ladies. Sebastian had been startled a couple of times in the past week when a scantily-clad young thing emerged from the bedroom, hastily pulling on her clothes and leaving without a word of hello. He shook his head, envious. He hadn’t been laid since his ex-wife, Helen, left him a year ago.

“Well?” Barrett prompted when the silence stretched, gesturing down to the sheet around his waist. “Can I?”

“What?” Sebastian shook himself. “Oh, yeah. Go ahead.” He waved his hand at his bedroom, adding, “But I doubt you’ll find anything of mine that will fit you.”

Barrett disappeared into Sebastian’s bedroom to rummage through his dresser. He emerged a minute later crammed into a pair of Sebastian’s running shorts. The red nylon was stretched to the breaking point, hugging him like a second skin. It was almost worse than if he was completely naked and Sebastian looked away with reddening cheeks.

“What?” Barrett batted his eyelashes, the picture of innocence.

“Not those,” Sebastian stated, pointing back towards the bedroom. “Go put on something else. I have a pair of sweatpants in there that will fit you better.”

“Pffft. I like these.” Barrett sauntered over to him, a shit-eating grin on his face. “‘Sides, we’re all men here, right. I ain’t got nuthin’ Ben an’ Loren–and YOU–ain’t seen before.”

“You just have a lot more of it,” Sebastian muttered under his breath, turning away.

“Dude,” Barrett continued as if he hadn’t heard him, “when’re ya gonna let me train ya?” He plucked at one of Sebastian’s crutches. “You gotta keep up with yer physical activity while you recover.” Puffing his broad chest out, he boasted, “And I specialize in just that.” He sidled over and pinched Sebastian’s admittedly stringy biceps. “Looks like yer upper body could use some work. All that running has landed you with an injury and sapped the muscles from your chest and arms. Ya need to balance out!”

Pushing him away, Sebastian frowned. “I’m a runner. I don’t need muscles like a rugby player.”

“A rugger,” Sebastian corrected. “And ya can’t run no more. Not for another six weeks at least. So, how ‘bout it? We can start tomorrow afternoon after Loren and Ben go back to their mom’s.”

“I don’t know…”

As he waffled, Sebastian looked down at himself, seeing his body as if through Barrett’s eyes. He was very tall and skinny, verging on scrawny, with no muscular definition. With blond hair and blue eyes, he used to pass as boyish when he was younger but now that he was in his mid thirties, he knew he’d lost his boyishness and looked tired and haggard. He envied the men his age who had matured into their looks and worried he was past his prime…just when he was back in the market for a relationship again. Had Helen stolen the best years of his life?

Barrett took his hesitancy as consent and started beaming. “It’s settled then! We’ll go to the gym tomorrow night and I’ll whip ya into shape!”

***

Barrett turned out to be a surprisingly good personal trainer. He seemed to take his profession very seriously (although Sebastian was soon to find out there were limits to this) and spent a lot of time taking Sebastian’s measurements and even had him step onto a fancy machine that calculated his body composition.

“Only five percent body fat,” he tsked, shaking his shaggy head. “Too low. You need to up that to at least ten. No wonder ya look like shit! When yer body fat’s that low, ya can’t process fat-soluble vitamins and ya get anemic.” Sebastian lowered his head, embarrassed. Until now, he’d prided himself on being so thing. Barrett continued, “And yer muscle mass is below average everywhere, not just in your upper body.” He put his hands on Sebastian’s shoulders. “You need to eat more protein, take vitamins and put on some weight. Good thing I came along when I did! No wonder you sprained yer ankle. You have so little fat that yer body has started to eat itself.”

“But I love running!” Sebastian protested feebly. “It’s my life!”

“Dude.” Barrett’s russet-brown eyes bore into his own. “Yer hurtin’ yerself!” He slapped him lightly on the stomach. “I may be young but I’ve been a trainer long enough to know when a guy is sublimating.”

“Sublimating?” Sebastian was shocked that Barrett knew the word, much less how to use it correctly in a sentence. “What exactly am I sublimating?”

“Yer runnin’ away from yer problems,” Barrett pronounced. “Literally. Too much exercise can be almost as bad as not enough. You need to back off the cardio.”

Sebastian opened his mouth to argue but then stopped. It killed him to admit it but Barrett was right. All he had to do was check in with his body to know he was utterly worn out. He’d been a runner since junior high but had really amped it up after Helen left him and now was running more than a hundred miles every week. Or at least he had been until his ankle gave out. Today was the fourth day without running and he was a total wreck: Antsy, jittery and irritable. Swallowing his pride, he realized then that running was making him miserable..and hurting him, too.

Barrett’s eyes softened and he reached out and enfolded Sebastian in his brawny arms. “Aw, dude! C’mere,” he soothed, patting him on the back. “I got ya. Just relax and let go. Yer big buddy Barrett’ll take care of everything.” He squeezed him. “Now c’mon! Let’s get ya liftin’ weights!”

***

Weightlifting didn’t suck as much as he thought. Barrett put him through a moderately difficult workout, concluding with a massage in the steam room. Sebastian sighed with deep contentment when the big jock put his weight on him, carving deep trenches in the muscles down his back.

“Ahhhhh,” he moaned. “I didn’t know you were a massage therapist, too.”

Barrett laughed. “I’m not. It’s just sumthin’ I picked up. It’s kinda my gimmick at the end of a training session. I tried it once on a hot chick and she liked it so much she lemme bone her afterwards.” He sighed, reliving the memory. “Got a huge tip outta the deal, too. And five more clients the next day after she tole her gal pals ‘bout me.”

“I hope you’re not expecting the same thing from me,” Sebastian commented wryly, “because it’s not going to happen.”

“Haha! Don’t worry, bro.” Barrett’s big hands grasped his shoulders and started kneading. “Nowadays, I do this with all my clients, whether we fuck afterwards or not. Gets the toxins out and leaves ‘em happy. Gettin’ laid every now and then’s a bonus.”

“Just don’t get caught.” Sebastian didn’t know how he felt about the kid basically admitting he was a gigolo. “All it takes is one woman to complain and you’ll lose your license and possibly worse.”

“I’m careful.” Barrett squeezed his deltoids, cupping them in his hands and working his fingers into the tissue. “And I don’t have sex with ‘em here. We meet up afterwards, usually at their place–”

“–and sometimes at mine?” Sebastian finished, frowning. “That’s risky, Barrett. All I need is for Helen to get wind of your, um, extracurricular activities and I’ll lose any chance at custody of the boys.”

“You worry too much, bro.” Barrett tickled him, making Sebastian jump. “Didn’t I tell ya to relax and lemme handle everything. Breathe easy and de-stress. Yer too high strung!”

***

He barely saw Barrett over the next couple of weeks, except when they met at the gym for his training sessions. Taking the jock’s advice seriously, he upped his daily caloric intake and started drinking the chocolate protein and vitamin supplement that Barrett ordered for him. The bottles showed up every week in a box on the front porch, enough for three a day. He didn’t recognize the brand or the language printed on the bottles but Barrett said it was an after-market product that was identical to the more expensive American brand. In any case, it sure tasted good!

One Saturday morning, he woke up to discover his boys, Ben and Loren, sipping bottles of it with their cereal. “Hey!” he shouted, taking the protein drink out of their hands. “This isn’t for kids!”

“But, Dad!” Ben, the more rebellious of the two, protested, “it’s sooo good! We thought it was chocolate milk!”

“It’s not and you can’t drink it.” He put the bottle up out of reach and was preparing to lock away the case as well when Barrett sat up on the couch, still half asleep after his late night shenanigans.

“It’s fine if they drink it,” he countered. “It’s just a protein and vitamins.” Wrapping the sheet around his naked waist, he stumbled over to them. “Go on, give it to ‘em.”

Sebastian wavered but Loren’s pleading squeal prompted him to hand the bottles back over. “Just don’t drink it again, Ok?” he grumbled. “That stuff’s expensive.”

“It’s actually not expensive at all,” Barrett corrected gently. “And you know it. Ease up, bro.”

“Will it make us buff?” Ben piped up. He puffed out his narrow chest. “I wanna get swole like you, Dad!”

“‘Swole’? ‘Buff’?” Sebastian repeated, looking askance at Barrett. “I blame you for corrupting them.”

Barrett laughed. “Well, can you blame ‘em? Who wouldn’t wanna be buff and swole like their daddy?”

Sebastian looked away. “I’m not that muscular. I’ve only gained ten pounds.”

“Ten pounds?!” Barrett shook his shaggy head in amazement. “That does it! I’m takin’ yer measurements again tomorrow night when we have our next session. Geeze, dude! Yer my new poster child!”

Sebastian blushed, looking awkwardly down at his feet. His gaze, however, was drawn to his chest as he did so and he was proud to notice his pecs pushing out noticeably from the clinging material of his t-shirt. He smiled, tightening them and enjoying how they popped out. He’d never had pecs before!

***

In the locker room the next day, Barrett followed through with his promise to measure his body composition again. “Whoa, dude! Good job! Yer up to seven percent body fat and you’ve put on seven pounds of muscle.” He folded his brawny arms, surveying Sebastian’s mostly naked body approvingly. “Good work, bro! Yer gonna slay dem ladies!”

“Huh?”

Barrett gave him an incredulous look. “Uh, ladies, bro. You know, the members of the fairer sex. I mean, that’s why yer doin’ all this weightliftin’ in the first place, right?” He waved dismissively. “In addition to given’ yerself a break from runnin’, ‘course.”

Sebastian hung his head, remaining silent. The truth was that he’d met Helen in high school and they’d gotten married when they were in college. He’d never dated anyone else and really had no idea how to go about it. He’d overheard his coworkers talking about Tinder and Hinge but didn’t even know where to begin with creating a profile on a dating app. Plus, as titillating as Barrett’s sexual hijinx were, the thought of hooking up with strangers was repugnant to him.

Slinging an arm over his shoulder, Barrett cajoled, “Aw, don’t worry ‘bout a thing, dude! Yer bro here’s got yer back. It’s my personal mission to get ya laid as soon as possible.” He squeezed, drawing Sebastian in closer. “Anything to make ya forget ‘bout Helen and get ya back on out the prowl!”

“Stop it. I don’t need your help.”

When he tried to pull away, though, Barrett just pulled him in closer. “Uh, yeah, ya do, dude. Let’s start with the easy stuff.” He ran his hand over Sebastian’s smooth chest. “Stop the manscapin’, bro. Chicks like their men furry these days. Ya look like a little boy.”

“What do you mean?” Sebastian stared down at his shaved chest in confusion. “But, I thought–?”

“You thought wrong.” Barrett puffed out his chest, causing the thick, brown fur between his pecs to spill out from under the neckline of his tank top. “You know how many times I’ve been laid this week?”

“I don’t really–”

“Ten!” Barrett grinned, displaying his cracked front teeth. “Ten fuckin’ times!”

Sebastian looked around, keenly aware that there werel men in the locker room who could overhear them. He didn’t exactly want to have this conversation at all, much less in public. “Hey, can you keep it down?” he whispered, cheeks coloring. “You don’t need to advertise your sex life to everyone!”

“My point is,” Barrett continued in a loud voice, “you need to start listenin’ to yer bro.” He jabbed his thumbs into his chest. “Trust me: I know what women want and I know how to give it to ‘em.”

“Ok, Ok!” Sebastian said, waving his hands. “I believe you! I’ll take your advice.”

Barrett grinned, slapping him so hard on the back it echoed through the locker room. “Good! Now stop manscapin’ and shavin’. A man needs a beard, a carpet on his chest and–” He reached down and pulled the waistband of Sebastian’s shorts out, peering down inside and shuddering at his hairless cock and balls. “A thick bush!” 

“Hey! Stop that!” Sebastian pushed him away. “What’s wrong with you?!”

Barrett let go of the waistband with a painful snap and arched an eyebrow. “Nuthin’. It’s what’s wrong with you that I’m tryna fix here, bro. I’m the one who gets more pussy than he can shake his dick at, remember?”

***

Chapter 2

Sebastian stopped shaving. He didn’t know why, certainly not because Barrett suggested it. It was silly, right? Why did he care what Barrett thought about body hair? It didn’t matter to him. Barrett was just a dumb jock.

Over the next few weeks, his beard and body hair grew in. It was itchy as hell for the first week but, once the hair got longer, it became more comfortable. He’d been shaving everywhere since high school so having a beard and body hair was a new experience for him, one that he wasn’t exactly sure he liked. For one thing, the musky scent that accompanied the growing hair required he douse himself with deodorant at least a couple times a day.

When the doctor said his sprained ankle was healed, he didn’t go back to running. He had no idea why exactly. It was strange because running had been the center of his life, the one thing he thought he could never live without. Now, though, he didn’t miss it. In fact, he even threw out his running shoes, opting instead to focus on his weightlifting regimen. 

Weightlifting? Yeah, he’d grown to like it. Not as much as running, of course. He had no intention of replacing one addiction with another. No, he wasn’t crazy. Everything in moderation, he told himself. He didn’t want to get too built.

The truth was he liked the results. His clothes grew snug in all the right places and he caught some of his female coworkers watching him when they thought he wasn’t looking. Soon, he even outgrew his shirts and pants and needed Barrett’s help picking out a new wardrobe. The young jock steered him towards a bunch of casual athletic gear that really set off his bigger muscles. He was hesitant at first but soon grew to love how badass he felt when he was wearing them. It filled his (newly mounded) chest with pride and boosted his confidence. When he looked in the mirror these days, he no longer looked drawn and haggard…a man whose best years were behind him. Now he was growing into his manhood, a big, stocky, ass-kicking macho dude in his prime. He loved it!

Except…

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Barrett asked one night during a personal training session. “Why’re ya pulling on yer junk?”

Sebastian flushed, moving his hand away from his crotch. “Sorry, it’s just that…” His voice trailed off as he found himself unwilling to complete the sentence.

“Just what?” Barrett took the weights out of his hands and stood facing him, brown eyes filled with concern. “You can tell me.” He looked around, noting they were surrounded by other guys. “This is a safe space.”

“It’s, uh, well…”

“Yeah? Bro, spit it out!”

Sebastian’s cheeks were flaming under his newly-grown beard. “It’s my dick and balls. They’re–er, bigger. A lot bigger, for some reason–and my, um, foreskin. It’s…well, it keeps pulling back and my, uh…glans is really sensitive. It’s rubbing against my shorts!” He couldn’t believe he was talking about this with anyone, much less Barrett in front of a bunch of other guys. His longer, thicker cock had been on his mind a lot lately, mostly because it meant he was constantly horny. Worse than that, though, was the constant friction of his cockhead against his shorts. He kept his voice low but even so a couple guys turned around to look at him.

“Haha! Sounds like a great problem to have,” Barrett joked, elbowing him in the ribs. When he glanced down at Sebastian’s crotch, though, his eyes went round. “Whoa. Wait. Yer not goin’ commando in there, are ya, dude? What’s wrong with you? Ain’t ya wearin’ a jock? I always wear a jock!” He pulled down the front of his nylon shorts, exposing the thick waistband of his Bike jockstrap. “You should, too, from the way yer big man’s stickin’ out. It’ll keep yer dick and balls locked down. Poof!” He made a funny motion with his hand. “Chafing gone like magic!” He grinned. “All us bros wear ‘em here.” He looked around at the guys around them for encouragement. More than a few gave him the thumbs up. A couple even tugged down the elastic waistbands of their shorts, exposing matching Bike logos. 

Sebastian was amazed. And really self-conscious. “Shhhh! Why do you have to talk so loudly?” He felt like he was going to wilt from embarrassment. “And I’ve never worn a jock before. I don’t need one!”

“Uh, yeah, you do!” Barrett continued, talking even louder. “This,” he gestured at Sebastian’s crotch, “proves it. Oh, and you should get yerself circumcised while yer at it. A foreskin’s just gross.” Then he did the completely unthinkable and pulled down his shorts in front of everyone, letting his short, stout cock pop out. “See that scar?” He pointed to the angry red line just under his cockhead. “Took my bud Omar’s advice an’ got my ‘skin snipped a couple months ago and I ain’t never been happier! So much cleaner! So much more sensitive!”

“Barrett! WTF!? Cover up!” Sebastian waved his hands, looking around frantically. To his surprise, the other guys around them seemed unconcerned by the jock’s penis poking out from his shorts. A few even grinned in approval. 

Barrett didn’t cover up. Instead, he left his cock sticking out proudly. “Pffft, bro! Yer so excitable!” He motioned to the men around them. “We’re among friends here. This gym’s a safe place to be a man. Do you see any women here?”

“Well, no.” Sebastian’s cheeks were flaming. He felt like he was the one whose penis was publicly exposed, not Barrett’s.

“That’s ‘cuz this is the guys-only floor,” Barrett explained, finally taking pity on him and stuffing his freshly circumcised dick back in his shorts. “The ladies are all up on the next floor.” When Sebastian stared at him uncomprehendingly, he sighed. “Do ya forget what neighborhood this is, bro? Did ya forget where yer livin’?” He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s a Muslim gym, bro. The men and women are separate. Look.” He pointed to a plate glass window across the room. Sebastian turned and did a double take when he spotted naked men lounging in the pool area. A couple of bare-assed guys were sitting on the edge of the hot tub, chatting amiably, and several were swimming laps…naked as the day they were born.

“I-I-I, well, I–” Sebastian was completely flustered. How had he not noticed this before? He knew very well that his neighborhood was predominantly Muslim–there was a mosque across the street from his apartment that broadcast daily prayers over a loudspeaker–he’d just never realized that the gym was segregated by gender…or that guys could walk around naked on their designated floor. He’d been too focussed on lifting weights to notice.

“The look on yer face, bro!” Barrett slapped his knee. “Ha! So funny!” Several of the guys around them were chuckling as well.

Sebastian gritted his teeth. “Shut up. It’s not funny.”

Barrett’s arm was over his shoulder. “It’s Ok, bro. I get it. It took me a while to get used to it here, too, but now I’ve grown to love it.” He sighed contentedly. “A place where men can be men! What could be better?”

“Um, I don’t know.” Sebastian’s head was swimming. He felt like he’d awakened in a foreign land that looked identical to his own.

Slapping his shoulder, Barrett urged, “Now, c’mon, bro. Let’s get back to it. After we’re done, I’m takin’ ya down the street to buy a bunch of jockstraps. Time ya started wearin’ the required uniform for a hung stud!” He snickered, adding, “And I’ll give ya the number to the doc who cut off my ‘skin, too. His office is nearby.”

***

Contrary to Barrett’s recommendation, Sebastian did not get himself circumcised. He did buy several bulky jockstraps, though. It felt really weird wearing them–he’d never get used to his bare ass hanging out the back–but Barrett was right: They helped contain his strangely larger equipment and the chafing stopped. After a few weightlifting sessions clad in his new jock, he realized he should have been wearing one from the start. So much more comfortable! The fact that all of the other guys at the gym wore jockstraps helped, too. When he pulled down his shorts in the locker room and looked around, it was jocked asses as far as the eye could see. It was cool.

The weeks passed by and he grew more comfortable in the gym, lifting weights, and following Barrett’s advice. Barrett might be a total meathead but he knew his shit. Sebastian’s rapidly thickening and bulging body (and crotch) was proof of this. He’d never felt bigger and sexier! He started wearing his black nylon trackpants, white sneakers and his favorite hoodie everywhere, even to work. If he was going to be a beast, he might as well dress like one. Plus, he liked the way guys moved out of his way when he swaggered down the street. He knew they were looking back at him because he’d caught them staring a few times. It really boosted his ego.

“Ok, it’s now time for Part 2 of the ‘Rexley Improvement Plan’!” Barrett announced one Saturday morning when Loren, Ben and Sebastian were eating breakfast at the kitchen table. All three were sipping chocolate protein drinks; Sebastian had given up trying to stop the kids from using up his stash and simply had Barrett order an extra case each week. Soon, they’d have to order another case at the rate they were consuming them. But there were worse things for kids to drink, right?

“Huh?” Sebastian licked chocolate residue off his upper lip. “Whaddaya mean, Part 2?”

Barrett rolled his eyes. “I mean Daddy and his boys need haircuts. Bad.” He sat up from the couch, his customary bed-nest on the weekends when the kids were visiting. “Yer lookin’ scruffy!”

“Scruffy?” Sebastian looked from Barrett–who was the very essence of scruffy–and back to his sons. Wait. What? “Hey,” he reached out and took Ben’s face in his hand, “are you putting on sunblock for soccer practice? You’re awfully dark.” He turned to Loren, who was a total bookworm and never played sports, and noticed he was just as tanned. “Is your mom not reminding you to wear the stuff?”

“You should talk,” Ben replied, always the sassy one. “Yer even darker than we are.”

“I am not–”

Barrett got up from the couch and, wrapping a dirty sheet around his waist, padded over to the table. “Uh, yeah, you are, bro.” He smoothed Sebastian’s hair back from his forehead. “Yer real tan. You been lying out in the sun?”

Sebastian pushed his hand away. “Of course, I’m not sunbathing. It’s bad for your skin!” He stood up and paced into the bathroom, turning on the light over the sink and staring at his reflection. “Holy sh–” he caught himself before he completed the swear word. “What’s goin’ on?” He lifted his big, muscular arms, noticing how deeply tanned his skin was for the first time. Lifting up his shirt, he saw his furry belly was just as dark, maybe even darker.

What the fuck is going on?

His confusion only grew an hour later downtown when their usual barber turned them away. “I can’t handle hair like yours,” he explained, pointing across the street. “Go over there.”

Sebastian followed his finger, mouthing the words, Hair Factory.

“Do I need to say it in Arabic?” the man repeated, lip curling.

“C’mon, bros,” Barrett said, taking Sebastian by the arm and steering the boys out the door. “I was gonna suggest the Hair Factory anyways.” He looked back over his shoulder at the barber. “Thanks for nuthin’, dude.” He gave him the finger and walked out onto the sidewalk.

They received a much warmer welcome upon entering the other barber shop. A young guy motioned them over to a couple waiting barbers, calling out in Arabic. Sebastian was tongue-tied but Barrett replied in kind, grasping the guy’s hand and slapping him on the back. 

“You know Arabic?” he asked after he and Barrett had taken a seat in the waiting area. Nearby, the barbers began trimming away Ben and Loren’s unruly locks.

“Uh, yeah, bro.” Barrett’s eyebrows drew together. He gestured to encompass the neighborhood around them. “You live in the heart of the city with the biggest Arabic-speaking population in the States. A better question is why haven’t you bothered to learn it yet?”

Sebastian looked down, abashed. “Uh, dunno. Guess I ain’t got no excuse.”

Barrett did a double take. “Um, would you care to repeat that statement?”

“Sure, bro,” Sebastian sighed. “I said, ‘Dunno. Guess I ain’t got no excuse.’ Happy now, motherfucker?”

Barrett put his hand over his mouth, body shaking.

“What?!” Sebastian demanded, now angry. He hated it when guys laughed at him! Across the room, the young barber working on Loren’s hair looked up and gave him a questioning look.

“Oh, nuthin’, bro.” Barrett’s voice wavered from the effort of suppressing his laughter. “I’m juss amazed is all.”

“By what ‘xactly?” Sebastian folded his brawny arms, nonplussed.

“By you.” Barrett put his hand on Sebastian’s knee and squeezed. “I juss barely recognize ya anymore. What happened to the skinny, shaved, uptight guy I moved in with?” He looked around the barber shop comically. “Where is he? Huh? I don’t see him nowhere.”

“Juss shut the fuck up.” Sebastian sank down in his chair, sullen.

“Careful, the boys’ll hear their daddy usin’ bad words.”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” He really hated Barrett right then.

If anything, his bad attitude only seemed to embolden the jock. “See?” He motioned to Sebastian’s posture. He was sunk down in the leather chair, legs spread wide and his sneakers untied. His nylon track suit was unzipped and, beneath it, his hoodie was askew on his thick neck. A black ball cap was likewise askew on his head. “You’ve changed, bro. Changed a lot.”

“So?” Sebastian couldn’t wait for the barbers to finish with his boys so he could be done with this conversation. He purposely turned away from Barrett to stare at one of the big-screen TVs on the far wall where a soccer game was playing.

“I like it.” Barrett hand squeezed his knee; Sebastian had forgotten it was even there. “A lot.”

Something about the way the jock said those words made Sebastian look over at him, the skin on the back of his neck prickling. Barrett was watching the game, though, apparently lost in thought.

***

“What do you think, Daddy?”

Sebastian stared down at his boys in utter disbelief. He barely recognized them as his own children, so changed were they. Who knew a simple haircut could do that? They looked up at him with excitement in their eyes, their black hair shiny and slick and short. Like their hair, their skin was dark, too. Beyond tanned. It was almost chestnut-colored. He looked down at himself, giving a start when he saw the color of his own skin: Deep chestnut brown.

“Uh, you look diff’rent,” he rumbled, scratching awkwardly at an armpit. “I mean, you look good. Real good.”

“Your turn!” the young barber called out, motioning for Sebastian to take a seat in his chair.

The boys squealed with laughter, ready to roughhouse with Barrett after being confined to a barber’s chair for so long. They tackled him and pushed him down onto the floor where he took them in his arms and, staggering back to his feet, hefted one boy onto each of his broad shoulders and spun around.

Sebastian watched them, shaking his head, and sat down in the chair, shifting uncomfortably when the barber wrapped a cape around his neck. The truth was he hated getting his haircut and had no idea why he’d let Barrett talk him into this. His hair was fine the way it was!

“The beard, too, bro?”

He looked up at the young barber, nodding. “Yeah, why the fuck not?”

The man nodded, getting down to business. He chatted amiably about sports the whole time. An avid soccer fan, he peppered Sebastian with questions about Ben’s team. Sebastian was more than ready for a distraction and kept his eyes on the TV screen the whole time, answering with a gruff rumble that emanated from deep within his chest.

“All done.”

He looked into the mirror, eyes widening. Shit, was that really him? “Did you dye my hair?” he demanded, hand going up to feel the incredibly thick, dense mop of jet black hair on his head. The man had shaved the sides down to nothing, only adding a super tight fade near the top. His beard–also shiny black–was buzzed short. Even so, the bristly hair on his cheeks was darker than coal. His squinted, realizing his blue eyes looked the color of dark amber now but that was probably just a trick of the light. He turned to the barber, repeating, “Well? Did you dye it when I wasn’t paying attention? I don’t remember asking for that.”

“Uh, no,” the barber replied, gesturing down to the floor around the chair. “Actually, I cut out your old dye job. Did you want me to dye it that color again?”

“Huh?” Sebastian looked down at the floor, thick eyebrows lifting when he saw the long strands of hair the barber had trimmed off of his head. They were a light blond that slowly darkened down to black. He looked back in the mirror, mouth falling open. The dude had even trimmed his eyebrows, cutting a distinct notch out of the left one.

He barely recognized the man gaping back at him in the mirror. This couldn’t be him…could it?

“Wow, bro!” Barrett praised. “You look amazing!”

Sebastian stood up after the barber removed the cape and brushed away the last remnants of his blond hair. Gone forever now. He felt a twinge of nausea as he watched them disappear in the trash bin.

The boys were beside Barrett, staring up at him in wonder. “Whoa, Daddy!” Ben shouted. “You look SO cool!”

“I agree,” Barrett murmured, grinning. “Cool…and hot at the same time.”

“What?” Sebastian demanded. “What did you juss say?”

Before Barrett could answer, though, Loren started whining, “The pool, Daddy! You said you’d take us to the pool today!” He held up his arms, demanding to be picked up. Sebastian sighed and reached down to sling the boy over his shoulders. Loren’s little legs swung around his neck, kicking with excitement, as the barbers looked on with happy grins. “The pool! THE POOL!!!” he shrilled. “YOU PROMISED US THE POOL!”

“Uh, shit. I forgot ‘bout the pool.” Sebastian paid for the haircuts absently, thinking how he really didn’t feel like swimming. He felt odd. Out of sorts. Like something significant had happened but he didn’t know what. But he knew that the boys wouldn’t let him forget his promise, either; they were going to the pool whether he wanted to or not. He pocketed his credit card, mumbling, “We gotta go back to the apartment and grab our stuff.” He looked over to Barrett who was watching him with a slightly glazed expression. “You wanna join us?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do,” Barrett replied, still grinning slyly. “C’mon, bros. Let’s hit the pool!”

***

Chapter 3

Sebastian got undressed in the locker room of the pool with Barrett and the boys. He couldn’t stop looking at his reflection in the bank of mirrors on the far side of the room. They were fogged up and he could only see his hazy outline but, even so, it was an outline he barely recognized. Was he really that big and beefy, not to mention dark-skinned? He shook his head, his mind as foggy as the mirror. 

His sense of unease had only grown since leaving the barber shop. On the way back to his apartment, they’d passed by groups of young Arab men. Invariably, they’d looked him up and down and grin, calling out jovially in Arabic.

He heard one word over and over: Yakhi.

“So what does yakhi mean?” he finally asked Barrett. The young jock was tagging along beside him, grinning from ear to ear, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. 

“Bro.”

Sebastian scowled at him. “I asked ya a fuckin’ question, Fucknuts. Don’t fuckin’ bro me!”

Barrett’s grin widened. “It means bro, bro. It’s slang in Arabic.”

“Oh.”

Still riding atop his shoulders, Loren kicked his legs against Sebastian’s chest, startling him. “Squeeeeeee! There it is!” The little boy pointed at the pool entrance, giggling. Beside him, Ben let go of Barrett’s hand, determined to be the first one to reach their vaunted destination. Sebastian was distracted from further discussion by the sight of his son, mysteriously turned brown-skinned and black-haired. What the fuck was going on?

Back in the locker room, he slid his jockstrap down his thighs, preparing to step into his swim trunks but he stopped at the sight of the ridiculously thick, black bush spilling out the top of the thick waistband. “WTF?!” He pulled it down further, exposing inch after inch of his penis. His shaft–normally pink as a suckling pig–was black. When his cockhead flopped out, he nearly fell over in surprise. It was still pink–that wasn’t the issue–what freaked him out was the complete absence of a foreskin.

It looked like his dick had been circumcised! There was even a jagged line of whitened flesh around his shaft just under his cockhead that could have been a scar.

At that moment, he happened to glance over at Ben just as the kid pulled off his underpants. Sebastian gave a start of surprise when he saw his son’s little penis. Barely longer than a pinkie finger, it was black-skinned just like his and–just like his–lacked any trace of a foreskin. Ben’s exposed glans was just as pink as his dad’s…and just as unhooded.

Sebastian’s cheeks felt hot. He shook his head. Neither he nor his boys were circumcised. He’d always been proud that his parents bucked the American trend and didn’t have his or his brother’s foreskins snipped. After he grew up and got married, he and Helen had agreed to leave their sons’ intact.

“What the fuck is happenin’?”

Barrett looked over at him as he was stepping out of his own jockstrap. His big, furry butt jiggled as he caught his balance, the strap tangling around his foot. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Sebastian pinched his forehead, feeling faint. Why was the locker room suddenly so hot? He reached out and steadied himself on Barrett’s thick shoulder. The jock tensed before relaxing, sinking his weight against Sebastian. Sebastian looked down, realizing he and Barrett were both naked, and straightened, shaking himself.

“What’s wrong, bro?” Barrett stood up, his stained jockstrap gathered around his ankles. His belly thrust out as he did so, sloshing heavily from side to side.

Whoa, Sebastian thought as he stared at that belly, he’s gained a lot of weight! He couldn’t believe how fat the formerly lean, ripped jock had gotten. The added pounds had really changed him!

“Well?” Barrett prompted, turning to face him. He self-consciously reached down to cover his bloated belly with his hand as he did so. “What’s wrong?”

Sebastian’s cheeks colored, both from being caught staring at the jock’s big belly and because he realized that Barrett’s stout, thick, circumcised cock was pointing directly at his own equally circumcised dick…the only difference was Sebastian’s was a lot longer and thicker and blacker. Except for his unnaturally pink glans, that is. Sandwiched between his mahogany-colored thighs and dangling at the end of his ebony-black shaft, his pink glans stood out like a fuschia flare at midnight.

Sebastian’s eyes kept ricocheting from Barrett’s jaunty, pink chode to his own hulking, black horsecock. Finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer and bent over and jammed his foot into his swim trunks, yanking them up his mounded thighs. The shorts, however, were too small and got stuck halfway up. He was left stranded, his hefty, cut manhood flopping to and fro as several other guys in the locker room turned to stare at him. He felt his cheeks get hot.

Barrett came to his rescue. “Bro, here, bro. Put mine on. It’s bigger.” 

He stuffed a wad of bright red fabric in Sebastian’s hand. He looked down at the suit, flinching when he realized it was a Speedo. A very tiny Speedo at that. “I can’t wear this!” he shouted, causing more men to look over at him. “It’s obscene!”

“Nah, it’s not. You’ll look great in it. Trust me.” Barrett bent over and helped ease Sebastian’s trunks back down his legs, urging him to step out of them. He then put on the discarded trunks, pulling them up his own thick thighs with some difficulty. They barely fit over his round waist and the outline of his fat cock pressed luridly through the tight fabric.

“Daddy!” Loren whined. “Come on! Let’s go!”

Sebastian shook himself, realizing nearly all eyes in the locker room were on him. He was bare-assed with his cock hanging out for everyone to see. Flushing, he stuck a foot through Barrett’s Speedo and pulled it on, stuffing his cock with difficulty into the tiny pouch. It barely fit and looked like it would spill out at any moment. Worse, over the huge, twin mounds of his oversized testes, the thick ridge of his glans jutted outward, making it painfully obvious just how circumcised he was. He grimaced, hating everything about this situation. The last thing he wanted was to step out onto the pool deck wearing a fucking skimpy Speedo!

“You look great.”

He stared askance at Barrett. “Shut up. And stop staring at my junk!”

The jock’s eyes were riveted to his protruding bulge…as were several other pairs of eyeballs in the locker room. Rather than look away, though, he brazenly kept right on staring. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Sebastian huffed. “Let’s get this over with so I can go home and lock myself in my room.”

He squared his beefy shoulders and, mustering the last vestiges of his dignity, took his sons by the hand and led them out to the pool.

***

His time at the pool went viral on Instagram with numerous people uploading videos of him cavorting with his boys. The hashtag, #HotArabDad, got a lot of use. Fortunately for Sebastian, he wasn’t on social media and was completely clueless, except that he did notice a lot of people aiming their smartphones in his direction. He studiously ignored the attention, even though his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment under his thick beard. He couldn’t believe Barrett talked him into wearing such a skimpy Speedo!

They’d rinsed off and were heading to the ice cream parlor afterwards when Barrett tugged his hand. “Over there,” he pointed. “Come with me. It’ll just take a sec.”

Sebastian squinted at the storefront across the street. Like every other place in the strip, it was slightly broken down and dirty. A neon light flashed in the window advertising, ‘GOLD!’

When he hesitated, Barrett pulled him along. “Just do it! I wanna buy ya sumthin’.”

They entered the store and Barrett pointed at the display case where a large, heavy, gold necklace was draped over a mannequin’s head. There was a faux paddlelock, also gold, cinching the two ends of the chain together. It looked like something you’d find hanging on a fence outside an abandoned building.

“That,” Barrett said, calling the storekeeper over. “I want that for him.” He jerked his thumb at Sebastian. The old man nodded, smiling.

“Barrett, look, I don’t–” He held up his hands but it was too late; Barrett was already draping the heavy chain over his neck. It felt like it weighed ten pounds. He looked at the dirty mirror on top of the case, amazed. It actually looked kind of sexy!

His boys were staring up at him with their mouths hanging open. Finally, they shook themselves, clamoring, “Can we get one, too! Please, Daddy! Oh, please! We want one!”

Sebastian sighed and pointed to a rack where a pair of similar, but smaller, gold chains were hanging. “Those, too,” he ordered. The man nodded as Ben and Loren shrilled with glee. He turned to Barrett, reaching up to fondle a link on the heavy chain around his neck. “Thanks, bro. That was real nice of ya.”

They each ended up walking out of there with heavy gold chains around their necks, the boys with their shoulders knocked back wide and proud…just like their daddy. Barrett followed along behind the trio, smiling.

***

Helen nearly slammed the door in his face when he dropped the boys off at her place on Sunday evening. He stuck his foot in the door at the last moment and pushed inside. She opened her mouth to scream but her eyes suddenly snapped into focus and she stared up in horror at him.

“S-S-Sebastian?!” she demanded, eyebrows shooting upward. “What happened to you?” Then she looked down at the boys and promptly lost her shit.

***

Chapter 4

Three hours later, Barrett found him seated in the darkened kitchen of their apartment, an open bottle of Jack Daniels in front him.

“That bad, huh, bro?” He sat down heavily in the chair next to him, resting a hand over his round belly.

Sebastian knocked back the bottle, drinking deeply before setting it down unsteadily again. “Yup. Helen called the police on me.”

“SHE WHAT?”

“You heard me, Fucknuts.”

Barrett took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Why?”

“‘Cuz she thinks I cor-cor-uh–” he paused, struggling to pronounce the strangely difficult word. Finally, he made himself slow down. “She sez I cor-rup-ted the boys er sumthin’. Made ‘em get surgery or some stupid ass shit. Bitch thinks I’m tryna turn ‘em against her. Threatened to sue me.” He smirked unevenly before taking another deep draft from the bottle. “The police didn’t bah-lieve me when I tole ‘em who I was. Asked for ID an’ then threw it back at me when I showed it to ‘em. They was real pissed with me. Handcuffed me an’ slammed me against the squad car. Patted me down. Grabbed my balls. Fondled my junk. Called me a cocksuckin’ towelhead.”

“Jesus, Rex!” Barrett’s warm hand was on his shoulder. “What the fuck?!”

Sebastian was pretty drunk but not so drunk he didn’t notice the name that Barrett called him. “Rex?” He swung his head around to stare into the plump jock’s eyes. “Why’d ya call me ‘Rex’?”

“It’s your last name, dude.” Barrett’s hand was squeezing his shoulder, kneading it. “I just shortened it. Suits ya better.”

Sebastian shrugged his mountainous shoulders. “Huh? Rex? Fuck.”

“Yeah, my thoughts ‘xactly: Fuck Rex.”

Sebastian looked over at him, brow furrowing. “Huh?”

“Never mind.” Barrett waved dismissively. “How’d you get away from the police anyways?”

“Yer daddy.”

Barrett did a double take. “Uh, come again?”

“I called yer daddy,” Rex explained, talking like Barrett was a two-year-old. “He owes me one anyways for lettin’ ya move in here.”

Barrett straightened. “Oh? I didn’t realize–” He paused, thinking. “I guess I never thought much ‘bout it. So, my old man made ya rent yer room to me?” He smiled, squaring his shoulders. “I need to thank him the next time I see him. He’s always got my back.” His hand was back on Rex’s shoulder, only this time he’d worked his fingers under his tank top. “Dad got ya off the hook then? I know he’s well-connected.”

“Yeah.” Another pull from the bottle. Barrett’s hand was moving down. His fingers grazed his nipple. Rex laughed, pushing the jock’s hand away. “That tickles.”

“I can do a lot more than tickle you,” Barrett whispered, eyes lit with a warm glow that seemed to emanate from within. “Lemme rephrase that: I want to do a lot more than tickle you.”

Rex gave him a lopsided grin. “Yer so silly. A silly, silly boy.”

Barrett’s eyes were full of some unidentifiable emotion that Rex was in no condition to interpret. As the silence stretched between them, the jock wavered, opening his mouth as if to say something. At the last moment, though, he sighed heavily and asked, “How ‘bout if I take ya out to the bar, bro? Let’s get shitfaced, Ok?”

Rex grinned, lifting the nearly empty bottle in a mock toast. “Fuck, yeah! Let’s get drrrrrunk!”

***

He awoke the next morning with bandages on his neck, forehead, chest, arms and legs. Sitting up in bed in alarm, he shouted, “What the FUCK?!” as he stared down at himself. The next moment, he was hit with the mother of all hangovers and staggered to the bathroom to empty the acrid contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. His head ached like a crew of construction workers were pounding on it with sledgehammers. He didn’t have long to wonder about it because his gorge was already rising in his throat again and he hurled, spewing chunks into the toilet.

When he was done–or, rather, when his stomach was empty–he sat back on his haunches, realizing as he did so that he was bare-ass naked, his big boner bobbing between his legs.

“Fuuuuuuck, ah, fuuuuuuck,” he moaned, cradling his head in his hands. “What the fuck happened to me?” 

He dropped his hands, staring in confusion at the white bandages covering his fingers and both arms from wrist to armpit. Similar bandages were wrapped around his chest and thighs, twining all the way down to his calves. He patted one arm gently, wincing when the skin beneath the bandage throbbed mildly. It didn’t feel like he was injured exactly but something was definitely wrong.

“Oh, hey, yer up!”

Rex swung his head around to see Barrett standing there in a pair of boxer shorts, his round belly wobbling back and forth. Rex shaded his eyes against the glare from the living room windows and flushed when he saw the young jock’s morningwood tenting out his underwear. As he stared, Barrett dropped his hand down and squeezed his erection, smiling lazily. “Guess we’re both happy this morning,” he drawled, smirking at Rex’s giant thrusting up from between his legs. “Looks like yer cock likes yer tats as much as I do.”

“Tats? Huh?”

Barrett padded over to stand above him. As he did so, the fly of his boxers parted to reveal the bulbous head of his achingly erect cock. His exposed glans was really round, like a giant mushroom cap. A drop of precum moistened the tip. Rex’s tongue was thick in the back of his throat. He tried to swallow but couldn’t.

“Yer tattoos,” Barrett explained, squatting down beside him and eying the bandages covering his body. “You got a lot of ‘em. Paid a whole team of inkers to cover yer body last night after we left the bar. Don’t know what got into ya. Musta cost a fortune! We only got home a couple hours ago.” His warm hand touched the side of Rex’s face, caressing his fuzzy cheek. “They even tatted up yer neck, temples, forehead and throat. It’s a real bold statement, dude.” He laughed. “I’d never have the balls to get my face tatted. But then again, nobody’s got yer massive pair of bull balls!”

Rex pushed him away and staggered to his feet, mindful of Barrett’s hungry gaze being riveted on his throbbing erection. “Gah, fuck!” he moaned, turning away from the confusing tension between them. “What the fuck am I gonna do? I can’t go to work like this! FUCK!”

He ended up calling in sick and spending the day in bed.

***

After three days, he had to go back to work. Sighing with resignation, he pulled off the bandages and the cling film covering his new tattoos. Staring down at himself, his heart began to pound and a little wail of disbelief escaped his parted lips. He sagged back on his heels, cradling his head in his hands. It was much, much worse than he’d imagined.

Every square inch of his body from his head to his toes was covered with heavy, black designs and Arabic script. The only parts left uninked were his cock and balls, his belly, palms and the area right around his eyes and mouth. Everywhere else. Everywhere else was tatted! Even the back and sides of his head. And his knuckles.

He finally managed to stand up and survey his ruined body. The tattoo artists had shaved him before injecting him with ink so the only hair left on his body were his black pubes, black beard and the oval of black hair that the barber had left on the top of his head. Oh, and his notched eyebrows. Can’t forget those!

“Whut da fuck?!” he moaned, unable to believe what he was seeing. “Whut da fuck am I gonna do? FUCK!”

What choice did he have, though? He had to go to work. He needed money if he was going to survive. The problem was he had no idea how his clients would react to him when they saw their formerly prim, clean-cut actuary was now a towering, brutish, tatted-up thug.

***

The stares.

Oh, fuck.

The stares!

Rex was shaking with humiliation by the time he neared his office building. The ride on the bus had been bad enough–no one wanted to sit next to him and he was left sitting alone with a ring of empty seats around him–but the walk from the bus stop had been even worse. He could feel eyeballs drilling into him from everywhere. People simply could not stop looking at him.

“Yo, Moose!”

He looked up to see Mohammed, the security guard at the front entrance to his building, waving to him. He lifted his big, tatted mitt, tentatively returning the wave.

“You dawg!” Mo continued as he approached. “Where you been anyways? Chasin’ boy-tail, I’ll bet.” He slapped Rex on the chest, shaking his head. “Shit, bro! You get laid more than anybody I know!” He laughed. “Guess we all know why that is!” He looked down and grinned, eyes landing suggestively on Rex’s crotch.

Rex cleared his throat. “Uh, I ain’t Moose. Name’s Rex. An’ I work here.”

Mohammed’s eyebrows shot upward in confusion. “Huh? Yer not Mustafa? Really?” Then he burst out laughing, slapping his knee like Rex had made the funniest joke in the world. “Shit, Moose! You almost had me there! Hahaha! Tryna trick me? Hahaha!”

“Seriously, bro,” Rex countered. “I already tole ya. I ain’t Mustafa.” He thrust out his ID card.

Mo pulled up short, examining the card. His eyes darted from the photo on the driver’s license to Rex’s face.  Finally, he muttered, “Just a sec, uh, Mr. Rexley. I gotta call this one in to the boss.” 

Who the fuck is Mustafa? Rex fidgeted, mindful of the stares of his coworkers as they filtered past. He couldn’t fit into his normal work attire and had crammed his hulking lower body into a pair of skintight track pants. His giant bulge protruded obscenely before him. Even with two jockstraps, it was uncontainable. He fought the urge to drop his big hands over himself.

“‘K, yer clear to go,” Mo said, handing back the ID. He slapped Rex on the shoulder, smiling. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you, Yakhi.”

“No prob.” Rex strode forward, trying to project confidence he didn’t feel. The snickers and side-eye stares he received as he made his way through the halls unnerved him. By the time he reached his office, he felt completely out of place, an alien in his own workplace. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against the cool glass and closing his eyes. His hands were shaking. 

When he opened his eyes again, he started freaking out. All of his stuff was gone! The office was completely empty, save for a desk, a couple of chairs and a sofa. Even Ben and Loren’s photos had been taken down from the walls. Where was all his shit?

There was a soft knock behind him. Rex pushed himself off the door and was startled to find his boss, Mr. Barrett, waiting on the other side.

“Sebastion?”

The elder Barrett looked much like the younger one, only older, heavier and balder. Short, stocky with a round face and graying beard, he peered up at him with kindly brown eyes that were the same color as his son’s. Steve Barrett had hired Rex when he was fresh out of college, taking a chance on him when he lacked any relevant experience in the field of actuarial science. In the more than twelve years since, he’d been like a father to Rex as well as a mentor. Rex could have left the company and earned twice as much but his loyalty to Steve ran deep, deeper even than his loyalty to Helen. Helen had complained when he refused to get a higher-paying job. ‘You’re stuck in a rut, Sebastian,’ she’d scolded. ‘You need to change!’ This was the reason she’d left him. Well, one of many. But the truth was that his loyalty to Mr. Barrett had paid off in ways other than financial remuneration; it was Steve who had saved his ass from the police four days ago.

Realizing that Steve was waiting for him to reply, Rex shook himself. “Name’s Rex now. I ain’t Sebastian no more.”

“Rex? Really? But why–? Oh, never mind. I don’t care.” Steve pursed his lips. “May I come in?”

“Uh, sure. Why da fuck not?”

Steve moved past him, taking a seat in the chair in front of Rex’s desk. He motioned for Rex to sit as well and he lumbered over, nearly knocking over his lamp as he tried to squeeze his massive frame into the too-small chair. He had to hunch over to fit in it and felt like he was seated in a kindergartener’s toy chair.

Steepling his fingers, Steve regarded him for a moment. Rex watched the tip of his tongue rest on his upper lip before he began, “You know, Sebast–I mean, Rex, I’ve been thinking ever since that unfortunate…incident…on Sunday night. Thinking it’s time we changed things up a bit.” He paused, surveying Rex’s giant, tattooed, muscular body. “I would like to offer you a new position here with the company. One that I think is more, um, suited to your…well, to your particular abilities.” 

He gestured to the sofa across the room where Rex noticed for the first time that there was a pile of neatly folded clothing. Rex’s heavy eyebrows went up when he realized it was a black uniform, the same one that Mohammed wore at the front entrance; it was a security guard’s uniform.

***

“Ay, Yakhi! I knew you’d be back!” Mo called out as Rex approached with hunched shoulders and reddening cheeks. 

He couldn’t believe this was happening.

He’d been demoted to a security guard.

The uniform was too small by several sizes and he was barely able to cram his body into it. ‘Don’t worry, Rex,’ Mr. Barrett had soothed. ‘I’ve got a bunch of XXXXLs on order for you. This one was the biggest we had.’ He’d patted him on the shoulder, adding, ‘You can go change in the staff locker room in the basement. I’ve already had them label your locker and move all of your personal belongings inside it.’ With that, he’d stepped out of Rex’s office…the office that was no longer his. Rex had never felt more humiliated in his entire life.

“C’mon,” Mo urged, placing his hand on Rex’s shoulder. “I’ll train ya. Show ya everything I know which–haha!–ain’t much.” He tapped a thick finger against his forehead. “Juss like you, I don’t got much upstairs. And dat’s the reason, I’m guessin’, ya don’t work up there no more. Haha!”

The work was boring and menial and required a lot of standing. His feet were sore after a couple hours but sitting on the job was prohibited. Mo kept up a constant banter that helped distract him somewhat but the truth was he was completely depressed. He kept trying to figure out what he’d done wrong to land himself in this position. His eyes kept going to his tattooed hands. He lifted them, staring at his huge, calloused palms and giant, thick fingers. The skin on his palms was still pink but, when he turned his hands over, it was really dark. The mass of black tattoos didn’t help, either. He frowned, mind moving sluggishly. He couldn’t figure it out.

“Yo, Moose!”

He looked up to see a bunch of young guys sauntering past the front of the building. They were clad in bright red and green soccer uniforms, obviously on their way to practice. One of the guys was hanging back from the group and had his hand in the air. He smiled as he met Rex’s gaze. “Moose! Gonna come watch me play?”

Rex’s mouth fell open. When he hesitated, the guy jogged up the steps of the building and stood smiling before him, hands on his slim hips. He was, Rex realized in that instant, the most beautiful boy in the world. He had skin the color of burnt sienna; curly, black locks; an oval face with just a touch of stubble and the brightest, most curious brown eyes…Fuck, the young stud was a total show-stopper! Being tall and slender and built only added to his allure. The way his taut, bulging body filled out his soccer uniform just about took his breath away.

“Moose?” The boy peered up at him, a seductive smile curving his full lips. His head wobbled slightly as he said the name, something Rex vaguely remembered seeing guys of Indian or Pakistani descent do. His voice was lilting, tinged with a beautiful, almost musical accent.

“Uh, yeah?” Rex didn’t know he didn’t tell the boy that he wasn’t Moose. Why did everyone think his name was Mustafa?

The words had barely left his mouth when the boy launched himself in his arms. Hugging his body tightly against Rex’s, he invited him to respond and, much to his confusion, Rex did. His hands clenched that lithe, supple body against him. The boy giggled, wiggling his bottom. Rex instinctively cupped the boy’s ample buttocks in his big hands. For such a thin guy, the youth had an incredibly beefy pair of buttocks!

The young jock’s friends had halted when he ran over to Rex and now commenced hooting and catcalling as their embrace turned carnal. Rex flushed when he felt the boy’s tiny erection poking him in the stomach and he felt his own monster begin to stir. 

And then the sexy young thing was kissing him! 

His soft, quick tongue lapped at Rex’s upper lip before his full, tender lips touched against his own. He giggled, wiggling his bottom, enticing Rex’s fingers to explore his…

“That’s enough, Omar! He’s workin’!”

They froze, belatedly realizing that everyone on the street was staring at them. Omar’s friends were in a near frenzy, whistling and hollering and laughing. Mo was standing with his hands on his hips, glaring at the boy held aloft in Rex’s hulking arms.

Sheepishly, Rex lowered the kid to the ground. Omar stood looking up at him, lips still curved in a smile. “Well, Moose?” he purred in his lovely singsong voice. “You coming to watch my practice?” He winked, head wobbling seductively. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I already tole ya he’s workin’!” Mo huffed. “He ain’t goin’ nowhere!”

Omar looked disappointed at first but then brightened. “See ya at my gig tonight then? I’m playing at the Jabal Coffee House at seven.”

Rex didn’t know how to respond but found himself nodding. Omar grinned, displaying a brilliant set of white teeth and jogged off to catch up with his amused buddies. As he turned to go, Rex was inadvertently transfixed by the boy’s perfect bottom. Rex could see each ass cheek perfectly delineated beneath the nearly transparent fabric of his soccer uniform. Holy fuck, what an ass!

“Rex?” A familiar voice called out, distracting him from the glorious sight. “What’re you doing out here?”

He spun around to find Barrett staring suspiciously at him. The portly jock’s face was an unreadable mask as he took in the sight of Rex wearing a security guard uniform and his obvious interest in Omar’s backside. He clenched his jaw, repeating, “Why’re you standing out here?”

“Uh, I dunno,” Rex answered awkwardly. The truth was he was too ashamed to admit he’d been demoted.

Barrett stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Omar’s retreating buttocks. He folded his arms. “Why are ya dressed like a security guard?” He plucked at Rex’s uniform. “Did something happen?” When Rex refused to respond, he put his hands firmly on his shoulders. “Rex, tell me what’s goin’ on.”

Mo intervened. “Talk to yer dad, Son.” He pointed inside the office building. “He’ll explain everything.”

Barrett’s eyes slid over to Mo before locking back onto Rex’s. “Wait here,” he ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

***

Nothing Barrett said made his father change his mind about Rex. The beefy jock returned an hour later, shoulders slumped with defeat. “C’mon,” he said, taking Rex by the arm. “Let’s get outta here. I’m jonesin’ to lift.” When Rex hesitated, he added, “It’s fine. Dad said you could leave early today.”

Rex changed back into his street clothes in the basement locker room, mindful of Barrett’s eyes on him the whole time. The young guy was behaving strangely but he couldn’t quite figure out why. He just knew that Barrett demanded a lot more attention than usual. He was glued to his side the entire way to the gym and kept inserting himself between Rex and, well, anyone else. When they got to the gym, he donned a particularly skimpy pair of mesh shorts and insisted on doing squats in front of him. Rex could see the thick, white bands of his Bike jockstrap framing his furry buttocks every time Barrett lowered himself down. 

It was very distracting.

For reasons beyond his limited comprehension, Rex was beside himself by the end of the workout. He was having trouble breathing and his body was soaked in sweat. He stood for a long time under the cold spray of the showers afterwards, holding his face in his hands and trying to calm down. By the time they got back to their apartment, he’d finally realized what was wrong: He was hornier than fuck.

How long since he’d been laid?

Jesus, more than a year! 

No wonder even Barrett’s big, hairy buttocks were enough to get him going!

Getting dressed in his best clothes–which meant the only trackpants and hoodie that still fit his husky frame–he slapped his favorite ball cap on his head and headed out of the apartment. The heavy gold ‘necklace’ that Barrett had given him swung between his mountainous pecs.

“Uh, where’re ya goin’, bro?”

He looked back to discover Barrett standing behind him, wearing nothing but a jockstrap. The stout jock’s sizable, strapped buttocks hung heavily out in back, furry and rounded and deliciously fruity. Rex swallowed. His tongue felt swollen in his throat. A slow smile creased Barrett’s lips as he reached down to scratch his balls, drawing attention to his stiffy. Rex goggled. Barrett was erect in the jockstrap! His thick chode pressed against the thin mesh, leaving a spreading, dark stain of precum.

Rex opened and closed his mouth, finally managing to croak, “Uh, I’m goin’ out. I’m…uh, hungry.”

Barrett lazily moved his hand away from his crotch to cup his generous, meaty butt cheeks. As Rex gaped, he lifted them and let them fall. The intense jiggling that resulted was like a seismic event. “Out, huh?” he purred. “I was hopin’ we could eat in tonight…if ya know what I mean.”

Rex’s eyes went wide. Was Barrett really inviting him to eat his ass? WTF? The dude was supposed to be straight! “Uh, no, thanks!” he called over his shoulder as he bolted out the door. “Gotta go!”

He slammed the door behind him, panting. Barrett’s bizarre, gay behavior was only the capstone to an already weird day. What the fuck was happening to his life? Between Omar’s kiss and Barrett’s beckoning butt, he needed to find a lady ASAP and bang her pussy! Only then would he feel like he’d regained a measure of his sanity, manhood and pride. Jesus, Barrett is gay? WTF?!

***

Chapter 5

There was a singles event at a nearby cafe. Rex hated speed dating but he was desperate. Maybe the women who attended such things were just as desperate? He sure hoped so.

All eyes swiveled in his direction as he entered. He flushed, watching the varied effect his presence had on the women seated at the tables in the back of the place. Most were clearly turned off by his appearance but a couple sat up straighter in their chairs. One in particular, a dark-haired beauty with snake tattoos running up her bare arms, gave him a sultry wink. His big dick–already half-hard–stiffened in his jock. He smirked when he realized the men–his rivals!–seated across from the women were staring back coldly at him. Fuckers! he thought, dick hardening further in anticipation of victory. Step aside for the real man!

He shrugged out of his hoodie and, dropping it over the back of a chair, flexed his tatted guns. Underneath, he was wearing only a tiny, incredibly tight tank top.

This is gonna be fun!

***

Back at the apartment…

Barrett wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, all he could see were his flaws. He was too short. Too heavy. His paunch hung out, round and full, over the waistband of his jockstrap. His body was muscular, sure, but those muscles were covered by a layer of fat that had only grown since he moved in with Sebastian, er, Rex. 

He sniffled, unable to look away from his ugliness. 

His face was homely. His teeth were broken and crooked and stained yellow from the pot he liked to smoke when Rex wasn’t around. His nose was fat and crooked. His beard was patchy, a dull, dirty color like old straw. He had soft, almost feminine lips and doe eyes that made him look like a naive child. By far the worst of all his shortcomings, though, was his receding hairline. He lifted his hand and pulled back his shaggy, thinning hair and beheld the devastation of his shiny forehead, deep trenches of skin now drawing back toward the top of his head. He’d lost even more hair since he started taking Finesteride! Soon, he would have to get his head buzzed and resign himself to being permanently bald. He was only twenty! It sucked big time. Who was going fuck an ugly, fat, bald guy?

It was already costing him. He was losing clients at the gym. They’d drifted away as he’d gained weight, lured by the new, tall, hunky personal trainer, Amin, who competed with him at several neighborhood gyms. Contrary to his boasting, Barrett hadn’t been laid in months. And that wasn’t only because women didn’t find him as attractive now that he was fat. No, partly it was his own decision. He was saving himself for the man he had become completely obsessed with. He shook his head, still unable to believe it had happened. He’d fallen for a guy! A guy! Fucking Rex had stolen his heart!

Tears flowed down his scruffy cheeks as he finally acknowledged the feelings he had denied for the past six months. He wanted Rex.

He never intended to.

It started as a joke.

He ordered that ‘protein formula’ as a way to get back at Sebastian for being such an uptight prick. He hadn’t believed the stuff would actually work, much less that it would turn his roommate into a hot, muscular, hung Arab daddy with an IQ well south of 80. 

At first, it had been fun watching the prissy, smug, brainy Sebastian fade away as his body grew thicker and heavier and his skin darkened. His sharp gaze slowly became dull, almost bovine. His mouth would hang open as he stared vacantly into space and he started drooling like a total gooner. He had more and more trouble thinking, made the dumbest mistakes, lost his perfect grammar. Shit, he even had trouble completing sentences now! The fact that the jerk’s annoying brats started turning as brown as their daddy was just icing on the cake. What fun!

But then…

But then…

Fuck.

Barrett held his face in his hands, sobbing.

He fell for him.

Head over fucking heels.

It was pure lust and pure love, combined into an intoxicating and addictive brew.

The slightest whiff of Rex’s potent musk was enough to make him go weak in the knees. More than that, though, he cared for the man. Enjoyed working out with him. Loved just being in his presence. Rex was so clueless about his hotness that it was a huge turn on. He was almost innocent. It made Barrett want to protect him. Want to be protected by him, too. Yeah, he wanted those big, strong, dumb arms around him almost as much as he wanted that big, long, fat–

He banished the thought before he could finish it.

Barrett had never fucked a guy before. The very idea was just gross, an affront to his heterosexuality. Sticking his dick in a dude’s asshole was disgusting enough but even worse was allowing his own backdoor to be defiled by a stiff, hard cock. Ugh! No way. Never!

Oh, but that had all changed the moment he saw Rex’s giant member.

It was beyond huge.

So heavy!

The way is swayed ponderously between the dude’s hulking thighs, a true elephant trunk!

So girthy!

It was thicker than a gushing firehose and that was flaccid!

So incredibly long!

It battered against his knees, seeming to grow longer by the hour.

And that pink cockhead!

He shivered, hugging himself with delirious pleasure.

Oh, to have that cock rammed so far up inside him that it came out his mouth!

He’d fucking give anything for the privilege.

He had to be Rex’s first–and only–bottom.

No matter what.

He’d give anything. Sacrifice anything. His butthole? Shit, he’d gladly wear adult diapers for the rest of his life if Rex destroyed him down there. He’d debase himself. Humiliate himself. It didn’t matter! As long as he had that man–and his hulking dick–for his very own.

There was only one problem. Well, three.

He turned and looked over his shoulder at his reflection, noting his first two problems.

Number One: His ass sucked. It was saggy and bloated.

Number Two: He was fat. His love handles drooped over his hips, jiggling with every movement.

He turned back to face the mirror and lift his rapidly thinning bangs, exposing Problem Number Three.

He was balding.

Any one of these things was bad enough but all three together spelled the end of any chance he had to win over Rex.

He’d known this as soon as he saw Omar hugging Rex in front of the office that afternoon. Omar was beautiful. He had a full head of wavy, lustrous, black hair. Omar was thin. His soccer uniform showed off his wide shoulders tapering down to the tiniest waist imaginable. And Omar had the perfect butt. His mounded orbs pushed up and out behind him, forming the perfect bubble butt. Shit, all it took was cupping that beautiful boy ass and Rex was hooked. 

Barrett had watched, crestfallen, as the big man’s eyes locked onto those bodacious buttcheeks. Rex’s tongue had even slopped out of his mouth! With one swish of his perky behind, Omar had managed to accomplish what Barrett had been working on for months: He’d captured Rex’s lustful attention.

Barrett did not give up easily, though.

He set his jaw with grim determination.

He had a secret weapon, one that would help him win back Rex.

It was extreme but he didn’t care.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, right?

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Barrett was so excited that he answered the door in his jockstrap. The delivery guy was startled at first but recovered quickly. “Package for you,” he said, holding a box in one hand and grabbing his crotch with the other. “Which one do you want first?” He craned his neck, staring salaciously at Barrett’s big, fat bottom. He licked his lips.

Barrett gave him a hangdog grin. “I’ll take this one,” he said, removing the box from the guy’s hand. “But thanks for the offer. I’m super flattered but look at me!” He turned and shook his fat, droopy ass at the guy. “Does this nasty ass seriously look like something you wanna fuck?”

“What do you mean?” the guy demanded, pushing his cap back on his head. “You’re hot as fuck! I’m ready to bend ya over right now!” He patted his bulge. It was even bigger than a moment ago.

Barrett closed the door in his face.

***

Barrett’s heart was pounding in his chest and his hands were clammy.

He stared at the little bottle, his little chode pulsing in his jockstrap. It was hard to believe but here it was: The answer to all his problems. He grinned, holding the bottle against his chest. 

What was it, you ask?

A special formulation, one he’d ordered from the same company that had crafted Rex’s ‘protein drinks’. He’d placed a rush delivery from his phone while he and Rex were still at the gym, paying an extra five hundred dollars for same-day service.

Expensive but so worth it!

He grinned, already feeling his fat dissolving, his buttocks growing firmer and his hairline being restored.

A trifecta! The perfect trifecta! The answer to all three of his problems in one, small bottle.

And it was fast-acting, too. (He’d paid another thousand dollars for the immediate effect. The manufacturer guaranteed results within an hour of ingesting the brew.)

Barrett uncorked the bottle and sloshed the pink contents around. The stuff looked just like Pepto Bismol, thick, chalky and viscous. The only difference was the smell. Pepto smelled sort of minty but this stuff smelled like bubble gum. It was kind of nauseating, actually.

“Well, here goes nuthin’!” He tilted back the bottle and guzzled down the cloyingly sweet liquid in one gulp. Smacking his lips, he placed his hand over his round belly; he could feel the heavy liquid trickling down into his stomach. “Let’s hope it acts as fast as they say it does! I don’t got much time.”

He pulled out his phone and brought up the tracking app, zeroing in on Rex’s location. His eyebrows went up when he saw where his soon-to-be-boyfriend was. Shit! He’s at the Jabal Coffeehouse already! Panicking, he stepped into a tiny pair of shorts and a wifebeater. Lastly, he slapped his trusty ball cap over his bald spot and headed out the door.

Time was of the essence if he was going to win the heart (and cock) of the world’s sexiest man that night.

***

Chapter 6

Rex swaggered across the floor of the coffeehouse, honing in on his target: The hottie with the snake tattoos. She cupped her cheek in a delicate hand, batting her eyelashes at him as he approached. “Hey,” he rumbled, swinging a chair around and straddling it backwards, his big legs spread wide and his huge, aching blue balls pressing hard against the slats of the chair’s back.

“Hey.”

He arched his back, suppressing a moan. Her voice was so fuckin’ sexy! Rich, sultry, seductive. His cock was already throbbing in anticipation of its first pussy in more than a year.

He was opening his mouth to suggest they skip the speed dating and head back to his place when he froze. What was that? He sat upright, ears pricked, listening intently to the first notes of the most beautiful music he’d ever heard.

It was a man’s voice, high and lilting, singing in a language he didn’t recognize. The tune was so full of nameless, aching, passion and longing that it made his heart swell. Unbidden, a tear trickled down his cheek. He held his breath, unable to believe his ears, as the resinous notes of a stringed instrument accompanied the voice, entwining seamlessly, augmenting and amplifying the tension, the longing, the sweet, sweet hunger. Rex’s mouth fell open. His heart twisted in his chest. It almost hurt to hear such a pure, unsullied sound in this too-busy, too-jaded, too-ugly world.

Turning to see who the musician was, he gaped when he recognized the boy from earlier. Omar was singing and playing a strange, two-string instrument that looked ancient, almost primeval. His eyes were locked onto Rex’s, golden brown and filled with ardor. His head wobbled seductively as their gazes met. His voice grew more forceful, more enticing, more beautiful.

And then it was over.

The song ended and Omar put down the instrument, setting it aside on a small table. “I’m taking a five-minute break,” he announced to scattered applause. Then he wrapped an ornate, colorful scarf around his neck and left the small stage. His eyes, however, never left Rex’s as he made his way to the men’s restroom.

“Uh, sorry,” Rex mumbled, staggering to his feet. “Gotta let out the anaconda.” He wobbled across the room, not giving the woman with the snake tattoos a second glance as he followed Omar into the bathroom.

***

Omar was standing at a urinal when he entered. The boy looked over his shoulder at him and smiled. Rex–his erection already swelling uncomfortably in his tight trackpants–staggered over to him, taking up position at the adjacent urinal. He grunted as he liberated the monster straining against his jockstrap. When it finally sprang loose, the mesh pattern of the jock was imprinted visibly on his swollen pink cockhead. 

Omar looked down at it and licked his lips. Glancing back up at Rex, he smiled mischievously and lowered his pants. They fell down around his ankles. Rex’s eyebrows shot upward. Underneath, the boy was going commando. His tiny penis was perfectly erect at all of two-and-a-half inches. Behind him, his mounded, perky buttocks stuck out, the color of dark cinnamon. He was completely smooth, not a trace of hair anywhere on his supple body.

They came together, mouths locking and erections smashing against each other. Rex’s huge cock was no match for Omar’s boy dick and he vanquished him utterly, grinding that tiny, laughably insignificant pecker into submission. Omar gasped and moaned with delight. And then Rex’s big, rough hands were on his luscious buttocks, kneading and digging. His thick fingers groped their way to their goal: The tiniest, tightest boy-bud ever. Succulent, unfucked, juicy. Ready for him!

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Omar breathed, licking Rex’s tongue before grabbing his ear between his teeth. “I’m finally ready. I can’t stand it any longer, Moose. I need you inside me!”

“FUUUUUUCK!” was all Rex could say. He didn’t care if Omar thought he was someone else. They’d worry about his identity after he’d left the boy permanently loose and gaping. He spun him around, ready to fuck him right then and there in a public restroom.

Omar was more than willing! He bent over and offered his hole to Rex, the perfectly submissive bottom. Reaching back to pull apart his bulky buttocks, he grinned back at him from between his thighs. Rex stopped, captivated by the sight of the boy’s asshole. It was hairless, puckered…and pink!

“REX! STOP!”

The door of the bathroom flew open and Barrett rushed inside. He moved deftly in front of Omar’s butt, effectively cockblocking Rex. He was breathless and sweaty and wild-eyed after running the whole way from their apartment. His eyes were full of both hurt and desperation as he looked up at him. “Please, Rex!” he begged. “Don’t do this.” He jabbed his thumbs against his chest. “Choose me instead! I love you! I want you! He doesn’t even know who you are!”

“Moose!” Omar shouted, pulling up his pants and covering his nudity from Barrett’s view. “Who is this and why is he calling you Rex?”

“I was juss gonna ask da same thing,” a deep, gravely voice drawled from behind them. They all turned to find a towering brute of a man lurking in the doorway, his thickly handsome face twisted with fury. He turned on Rex, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him. “WHAT DA FUCK YA DOIN’ TO MY BOYFRIEND, YAKHI?!”

Rex found himself staring into the heavily tattooed visage of an Arab man who looked–and talked–almost exactly like him. It was as eerie as it was perplexing and his erection quickly wilted, deflating into a long and flaccid hose that swatted against his knees. He opened his mouth but had no words. The giant ogre’s face bunched up and his grip tightened as he prepared to punch Rex in the gut.

Barrett to the rescue!

The sturdy jock grabbed Rex out of the big man’s grasp and, stepping between them, puffed out his chest and yelled, “HANDS OFF HIM! HE’S MY BOYFRIEND!”

Taken aback by Barrett’s fervor, the huge brute took a step backward, looking from Barrett to Rex to Omar. Finally, he managed to rumble, “Uh, Omar, whut’s goin’ on here? Who are dese fuckers?”

Omar moved to the big man’s side, taking him by the hand. “I-I-I don’t know, Moose!” He jerked his chin over at Rex. “I thought he was you! Really! You gotta believe me!”

Moose’s heavy brow furrowed as he gave Rex the once over. His notched eyebrow lifted along with the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess I can see why ya thought that. Ha! He really does look like me, don’t he?” His gaze dropped down to the mammoth’s trunk dangling haplessly between Rex’s legs and he smirked, adding, “But I’m bigger than him. A lot bigger. C’mon, Omar. Lemme show ya what a real man’s cock feels like in yer hole.” With that, he led the suddenly starstruck boy by the hand out of the restroom.

Rex and Barrett were left staring awkwardly at each other. Once the tension had grown to an intolerable level, Rex took a step closer to the guy. He looked down at him, noting Barrett’s rosy cheeks, heavy breathing and decidedly skimpy attire. He was absolutely adorable, he realized with a start. Far sexier than Omar could ever be. Why hadn’t he realized this before now?

“It true?” he asked thickly. “Yer really hot for me?”

“The hottest,” Barrett pronounced. “I want you so bad I can taste it.” 

“An’ ya want me to fuck ya?” Rex could feel his monster stirring even as he spoke the words. “It’s gonna hurt.”

“I want to ride yer big, fat cock until I die,” Barrett vowed. 

He was about to say something more but his smartphone chimed. Pulling it out (with difficulty) from the tiny pair of shorts he was wearing, he stared at the screen. All color drained out of his face as he read and reread the text message: 

>>We’re sorry but we shipped our ‘Bubble Butt Bussy’ formula to you by mistake. Please dispose of the contents immediately. A full refund has been posted to your account.<<

Dropping the phone on the floor, Barrett’s hands flew to his backside just as he was wracked by the most intensely painful spasms he’d ever experienced. Falling to his knees, he cried out in agony as he felt his buttocks begin to expand.

***

Epilogue

“You really are dumb, Rex,” Barrett squeaked in between screams of pain as his butt swelled bigger and bigger and bigger. 

Rex was cradling him in his arms, carrying him back to the apartment. Boiling with fever, the poor guy had torn off his shirt before they left the coffeehouse. His shorts and jockstrap had given way not long after that leaving Barrett completely naked. He clung to Rex, whimpering and afraid, nestling against his chest. Rex could feel his butt growing more massive by the second. It was the most bizarre experience…and also kind of arousing. 

“Did you hear me? I said yer dumb.”

Rex shook himself; he’d gotten distracted by Barrett’s growing bootycheeks. “Uh, why dat?”

Barrett grimaced as his butt was wracked with yet another explosive bout of swelling. Rex’s arms moved outwards to accommodate those ever-burgeoning globes. When the spasms subsided, Barrett sighed, speaking in a voice that was an octave higher than usual, “You were really gonna fuck him without any lube? I mean, c’mon! Haven’t ya had butt sex before?”

“No, I ain’t never had butt sex before. It’s gross.” When this pronouncement landed with a thud, he hastily amended, “I mean, I used to think it was gross. Now I’m ready!”

Barrett gave him a lopsided grin at this less than convincing recovery. “You need lube, dude. And lots of it, ‘specially with a cock like yours. You coulda—OWWWWW!” Tears filled his eyes as his ass expanded even more. Rex could’ve sworn he heard a sound like a balloon inflating.

As the drug kicked in, it was more obvious what was happening to poor Barrett: All of his muscles and fat were migrating down into his butt. Beyond this, his body hair had started falling out and his features were becoming steadily more boyish and feminine. It was really wild to watch the freaky process, especially because it showed no signs of abating. 

Barrett’s face was now round and childlike, his eyes really large in his face. His beard thinned down to nothing even as the hair on his head grew back in, turning a lustrous shade of gold. Rex couldn’t be sure in the orange glow of the streetlights but it looked like his eyes had even turned blue. His lips swelled, growing full and sultry. His lower lip thrust outward in a perpetual pout. Dimples formed in his full cheeks and on his chin. He appeared to be no older than sixteen or seventeen. 

And his body! What a difference! Rex would never have believed that Barrett had once been a buff personal trainer. Now he was tiny and weak. His chest had lost all definition, becoming soft and delicate. His arms were tiny, sticklike. And his legs were like a child’s. When his tiny, pink nipples started to swell and protrude slightly, Rex thought he was going to lose it. 

“I gotta get ya home before I can’t stand it no more!” he grunted, biting the inside of his cheek to distract himself from his raging hardon.

Barrett giggled. “Don’t let that stop ya! If we had lube, I’d let ya fuck me right now!” He didn’t seem the least bit distraught by his body’s changes, even though Rex could tell that he now possessed a truly freakish ass. He didn’t need to set the boy down to know that he’d never walk normally again, much less find pants that fit him. He was going to be a total sideshow freak by the time the drug was done with him.

He finally pushed through the door of their apartment and marched into the bedroom, throwing Barrett down on the bed. The boy bounced several times on his incredibly fat butt cheeks. Rather than being upset, though, he laughed, holding his little arms out to Rex.

“I want ya to fuck me! Fuck me now! Pah-lease!” he squealed. “I can’t believe I’ve got ya! Finally! I’ve been waiting so long!”

Rex was already pulling off his pants. He didn’t even try to remove his jockstrap, he just ripped it right off his body, tossing the mangled remnants aside with a lusty roar. His cock–his giant, hulking cock!–was already hardening and soon thrust out before him like a dripping, throbbing club. He crept onto the bed like a prowling tiger, looming over his prey as Barrett’s blue eyes went round with fear and excitement.

“Is now Ok?” he growled. “Ya don’t wanna wait?”

“Yes! Yes! YES!” Barrett shrilled. “I think the drug has finally worn off!”

Rex drank in the sight of his delicious, new boyfriend. Barrett was completely unrecognizable now. There wasn’t a trace of the former bro jock, save his notched earlobe and chipped teeth. Everything else about him had been rewritten. No longer brawny, he was slight of build with a long, delicate neck and an innocent face. His body was smooth, creamy like alabaster. There wasn’t a trace of hair anywhere below his ears. 

There were two changes, though, that really excited Rex. (And a third, hidden one that he was about to discover.) First, the boy’s penis and testes had shriveled up to nothing, leaving him with a smooth, rounded crotch with three tiny bumps that were barely perceptible. If you didn’t look closely, you could miss them entirely.

He was effectively sexless.

And it was unbearably hot.

Rex’s ‘love cannon’ shot a volley at the mere sight of the nullified boy.

Second, of course, were his obscenely inflated buttocks. They were so full and swollen that he teetered back and forth upon them, a boy seesaw riding atop a butt fulcrum. They dwarfed the rest of his body such that his ass engulfed most of his upper thighs and lower back. It looked like he had two, shiny, flesh-colored beachballs jutting out behind him. They were soft and delicate, yet shapely and strangely muscular. Rather than feminine or masculine, they were somewhere in between. Indented like a man’s ass but also silky smooth and squishy like a woman’s.

Rex fell instantly in love with them. If you asked him, sometimes it was hard for him to tell which he loved more: Barrett or his bottom.

The third surprise lay in wait as he thrust Barrett’s legs apart and folded himself down between them. Running a thick finger over the little bumps of his atrophied manhood, he grinned as Barrett squirmed with anticipation. His finger moved down to the boy’s taint, caressing it lovingly and making Barrett purr. Finally, he scored the moist inner sanctum, the royal bridal chamber. Barrett opened his mouth and moaned piteously.

“Hey, whut’s dis?” Rex held up his finger, dripping with clear goo that smelled strongly of bubble gum. “I thought ya tole me we need lube?!”

Barrett lifted his little head. Golden curls framed his round, innocent face and his lips formed a moue as he struggled to understand what he was seeing. “We do!” he panted. “Lotsa lube!” He shivered. “I can’t take you without it!”

“Looks to me like yer already lubed up,” Rex grunted, licking the dripping elixir off his fingers. It tasted divine! He moved his finger back to feel for Barrett’s unfucked hole and jerked his hand back in surprise. “Jesus, bro!” he exclaimed. “You got a cunt down there!”

“Huh?” Barrett tried to sit up but it was impossible, balanced as he was on his oversized orbs.

Rex felt his cock spasm as he parted the boys legs and peered down between those giant cakes. He was greeted by the sight of a long, vertical slit surrounded by pink, fleshy lips. It was a pussy. He knew one when he saw one.

“Whut the–?” he started to say but then shrugged when his cock spasmed again. Why question it when he could just fuck it?

And that’s what he did.

He didn’t need lube.

He didn’t need to stretch Barrett out.

The boy already had a queen-sized cunt that parted eagerly and enveloped his king-sized cock, swallowing him whole and sending them both on a pleasure-filled ride punctuated by the paroxysms of ecstasy that left them both broken and happy. Such was their fate from that day forward: Everytime Rex fucked Barrett’s pussy, it was like the first time. For both of them.

That Bubble Butt Bussy shit really worked!

***