You can probably guess at least one of the themes to this story from its title but there’s a lot more going on here than you might guess. I’m still working on the final couple of chapters and will post them soon. In the meantime, there’s enough here to enjoy and clear up at least part of the mystery about who is behind all of these fantastic changes.
Themes: Cock growth, butt growth, cock shrinking, dumber, brothers, muscle growth, body swap, hairy, mild bovine transformation, humiliation, straight-to-gay, silicone, steroids, reality shift, clueless and a few more that I’ll reveal later…
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Quick links
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Chapter 1 – AJ
I hear a ripping sound as I’m standing at the sink and look down, my eyebrows lifting in surprise when I see my hairy chest shredding my t-shirt. I stare in disbelief as my pecs inflate, growing bigger, heavier and squarer. My t-shirt continues to rip open as my man tits expand. The black fur covering them grows even denser, the hairs curling outward. I bend forward and a moan escapes my lips as my chest gets too heavy and begins to sag downward. My nipples make their first appearance as my pecs overwhelm the remnants of my t-shirt and they are big, pink and jutting out like a pair of bullets.
Finally, I can’t help it, I moan loudly because–Fuck!–I’m both scared and feeling good. “UNNNNGH!”
I straighten and stare at the huge pair of ‘dude hooters’ sticking out from my formerly well-proportioned chest. My shoulders are wider, too. I look at them in confusion as I become aware of an uncomfortable sensation on my face, jaw and neck. It’s like I have a thousand caterpillars crawling all over me. I reach up and touch myself. I let out a startled grunt that sounds several octaves deeper than it should. I have a beard! No, scratch that. I’m growing a beard and a thick one, too! It feels even denser than the fur on my chest and that’s saying something.
I shift and realize my shorts are way too tight as well but before I can pull my big tits out of the way to take a gander at my lower half, someone chuckles, “Jesus, AJ, are ya at it again? Go put yer strap on! The boss’s goons’ll be here in a minute!”
I swing around, finding it more difficult than it should be because my body is so much larger, bulkier, heavier and clumsier. I feel like I weigh at least three hundred pounds and I nearly lose my balance, having to grab hold of the counter to steady myself. I realize that my perspective has shifted as I do and everything looks lower than it should be–or maybe I’m just taller?
My buddy Tino is standing behind me. Or at least I think it’s supposed to be Tino. He’s, like, twice the size he should be and twice as old, appearing now to be well into his thirties. His bearded face is weathered, his skin leathery and his formerly graceful frame has sprouted a plethora of muscles that have consumed his lithe body.
Consumed is the right word.
His quads have consumed his thighs, his rounded gut has consumed his abs, his pecs his chest, his delts his shoulders and his traps his neck. He looks uncomfortable in all that muscle, like it’s hard for him to even move. The floor beneath him is bowing downward and the floorboards creak under his weight. He looks really fucking stupid, too, his face is bloated and his features are cartoonish. His nose, lips and ears are all too big, deformed. On top of that, he’s balding and only has a few squiggly hairs left on his scalp.
He looks like a gorilla. A total, fucking gorilla.
I open my big trap to reply but the words I mean to say are supplanted by different, dumber ones. “Shut da fuck up, ya fuckin’ fucktard,” I rumble. “And whaddaya doin’ walkin’ ‘round in that getup? Ya looks like a total freek!”
His thick lips twist into a leer, “A freek, huh? Looks who’s talkin’! Where’d ya find dem clothes anyways? Yas ain’t been able to fit in dem since high school! Yas looks stoopid! And yer nasty junk’s spillin’ out, too!” He waddles over and slaps my groin playfully. I jump and then notice something down there doesn’t feel quite right. Too heavy. I can feel myself sloshing back and forth and that’s definitely not normal. He laughs at my reaction, reaching out to squeeze my junk and my eyes bug out as I feel SO MUCH mass down there.
“The boss topped off yer balls, didn’t he?” he chortles. His beady eyes lighting up with evil glee as he goads, “What’s wrong, bro? The ‘roids makin’ ya feel inadequate where it counts? Har har har!” He waggles his microscopic package, encased in the tiniest pouch of the tiniest posing strap imaginable. That’s all he’s wearing: A fucking red posing strap! It looks ridiculous on his swollen body. His muscles have even consumed his cock and balls, too. Actually, it’s more likely an overdose of steroids that has shrunk his manhood down to nothing.
He scratches his micro bulge thoughtfully, tiny eyes still fixed on my crotch, “The boss would do same thing to me if my dick was bigger but I’d look even dumber than you do with a couple giant bowling balls in my pouch and nuthin’ but my tiny pee-pee perched over ‘em!” He pats my mounded shoulder, “Least yas got that big dick goin’ for ya even if yer dumber and uglier than shit. Haha!”
“You should fuckin’ talk!” I growl and then goggle when he turns around and presents his massive buns for my inspection. The ‘roids have hit him hard there, too. His butt is the biggest slab of beefcake I’ve ever seen! No, wait. That’s not muscle. It’s too full and soft and round to be muscle or even fat for that matter…
“Like ‘em?” Tino asks, noticing my attention. He wiggles his booty, causing those enormous cakes to sway heavily to and fro. “You ain’t tha only one who got topped off. Boss juss gave me another liter of silicone in each cheek! Har har har!”
Silicone? Boss? Why would Tino allow himself to be given a huge, girly ass with the help of silicone? WTF?!
My mouth falls open and he stops laughing, reprimanding, “Dude, I’m serious. Go put yer strap on! Our shuttle bus’ll be here in a minute and dem goons’ll be pissed if we ain’t ready to go.”
He pushes me by the shoulders out of the kitchen and into a nearby bedroom. I look around, noticing for the first time that we’re not in the kitchen at our frat house. Instead, we appear to be in an old house trailer. I wrinkle my fat nose when I see how filthy it is. The place looks like it’s never been swept or vacuumed and the air smells musky and stale. Tino rummages around in a dresser with broken drawers, eventually pulling out a blue posing strap. Unlike his micro strap, this one has a voluminous pouch that looks like it could hold a small child and a litter of kittens.
“C’mon! C’mon!” he urges, taking matters into his own hands when I stand there stupidly.
He grabs the shreds of my t-shirt and tears it off of me and then strains to unzip my shorts. They’re so tight that he has to fight them. Finally, though, they give way and rip in half. I stagger as the full weight of my…tumor…down there flops out.
I grit my teeth, refusing to look at myself and he helps me to step into the posing strap. Then he’s pulling it up my thicc thighs and telling me to spread my hefty ass cheeks. Numbly, I obey, cringing when the thong’s string caresses my asshole. Finally, he kneels and hoists the giant, heavy mound of flesh dangling between my thighs into the oversized pouch. I’m shocked when he steps away and I can feel the pouch stretching to accommodate my size.
“There,” he pronounces as I hear tires on the gravel out front of our house trailer. “And just in time.” He grabs my hand like I’m a giant toddler and tugs me with him toward the door. “Let’s go! Boss’ll dock our pay if we’s late!”
Dumbly, I follow along. Alarms bells are going off inside my thick skull but I’m too stupid to do anything about them. What the fuck is happening to me? How the fuck did I end up like this? And with Tino no less! I should be back at home with my parents and kid brother! I’m no ‘roid beast! I’m athletic and muscular as a young god! I’m the captain of the football team, dammit! I’m the biggest jock on campus!
Tino opens the front door and waddles outside in nothing but his ridiculous strap. Even worse, I’m lumbering along behind him, trying not to trip over my bloated cock and balls. I still refuse to look down but I know my package is only a couple inches off the ground. I can feel the massive, spongy boulders of my balls thudding against my ankles.
There’s a shuttle bus waiting for us outside, loaded with a bunch more steroidal monsters. They slouch down in the extra wide seats, their bovine bodies so overgrown with muscle and fat that they look barely human. A hairy goon, wearing a blue uniform and an ugly sneer, steps out of the driver’s side and ushers us inside.
“Go on, ya stoopid cows!” he jeers. “Time to earn yer keep! Haha!”
Tino guides me into the bus. I clutch at the handrail, nearly topping over. My center of gravity has shifted and I have bags of muscle–and worse–hanging off of me, making it almost impossible to get around. Tino is there at my elbow, helping me, and somehow we squeeze into the two remaining seats.
I look up and see the TV monitor overhead; it is playing a show titled, “Highlights from the Bull Pen.” I wince in revulsion when I see an ugly buffoon with a hideously inflated package struggle out onto a brightly-lit stage. His bald pate is shining under the harsh lights as he teeters around, windmilling his massive arms and trying to stay upright while his disastrously oversized junk threatens to trip him. A giant, dumb grimace is plastered across his ugly mug as men in the audience jeer and cat call at him. He’s too big and dumb to notice, though, and begins to gyrate his wide hips as he lumbers up to a pole. Is he going to perform a pole dance? I laugh to myself because he’s way too bloated and heavy! There’s no way he could even lift himself off the ground, much less shimmy up and down a pole. Haha! What a fucking moron! What a giant tool! He looks like a total oaf, a malignant ogre. Hahaha!
Then I freeze as his big, bovine head swivels towards the camera. The lens zooms in on his deformed face with its floppy, cartilaginous ears and bulbous nose. His heavy brow overshadows his beady, blue eyes. I blink. Then I let out a horrified bellow.
At that moment, I know one thing with deadly certainty.
The big galoot on stage…
…is me.
***
Chapter 2 – Jax
I’m shirtless, cleaning out my steer Ferdinand’s stall, when I notice it.
My shorts are too tight and getting tighter.
Confused, I look down and am stunned to see my chest filling out before my very eyes. As I stare, I develop chiseled abs and a well-defined chest. A dusting of black hair appears between my pecs, creeping outward to envelop my hard nipples. My shoulders broaden even as my waist narrows and I lose the last traces of my pre-adolescent pudge. A treasure trail emerges from under the exposed waistband of my boxers, creeping up towards my bellybutton. I feel a tension growing in my shorts and reach down to adjust myself, jerking my hand back in surprise when I realize my organ is growing. The outline of a fat sausage tents out my nylon shorts. Behind me, I feel my buttocks swelling. I cup them, my hearting pounding when I touch a total fuckin’ caboose back there. They plump up even more, pushing upward rather than sagging down. I pat them. A bubble. I’ve got a bubble butt!
And thighs for days.
My gaze slides down my newly ripped, muscular physique. I feel an itch and scratch at my legs, eyebrows raising when I see dense, black fur curling out from my formerly sparsely-haired skin. In a minute, my legs are covered with a pelt of black hair reminiscent of my older brother AJ’s. I scratch an itchy armpit and then lift my arm. My nostrils fill with a potent whiff of man musk and I goggle at the forest of black hair pouring out from under my arms.
I lift my palms, noticing my fingers are longer and thicker and my palms are wider but what causes me to emit a squawk of surprise is something else. Clearly visible under a fresh layer of black hair, boldly colored tattoo sleeves snake up my vascular arms.
And they’re not just any tattoos.
They are identical to AJ’s.
Moaning in confusion, I stagger over to Ferdinand’s water trough. The sound that rumbles up from the cavern of my chest is deeper by an octave than it should be. That’s unexpected but not half as unexpected as seeing the reflection of AJ’s face staring back at me from the surface of the shimmering water. I’ve got his startling blue eyes, wavy black hair, chiseled jaw, cleft chin and black stubble clinging to my cheeks. In short, I’m a total stud.
I try to steady myself on the edge of the trough but my hands miss and I have to scramble to catch myself. I reach up and mop my brow. Everything seems lower than it should be, almost like I’m standing on a stool. My legs–sturdy as they are with new, thick muscles–are also wobbly, partly because I’m not accustomed to my elevated center of gravity and partly because I’m totally fucking freaking out.
“I’m AJ,” I pronounce, recognizing his gravelly voice as my own. “I’m fucking AJ!!!”
Ferdinand thinks I’m upset and lumbers over to console me. He’s my good boy, my favorite pet. I reach down and discover his head is lower than it should be and chuckle to myself. Hearing AJ’s laugh elicits both delight and fear in me. AJ is my godlike older brother, a total jock stud who ruled my high school and is now a college senior, the big man on campus at the University of Michigan. But he’s also a sadistic asshole who delights in making my life hell. Occupying his body and hearing his voice coming out of my throat is as much a dream as a nightmare.
I lift my arms and watch, mesmerized, as my big guns pop. I run a hand through my thick, black hair, and laugh again. This is so fucking weird! How the fuck did this happen?
Ferdinand must be able to tell that I’m still Jax because otherwise he’d be trying to trample me right now. He hates my older brother with a passion equal only to my own. AJ likes to torment Ferdinand, pulling his tail and slapping his hindquarters, trying to get him to stampede. One time he got poor Ferdinand so worked up he ran into the barbed wired fence. I had to call the vet and get out the wire cutters to free him. The vet put in more than twenty stitches while I consoled my beautiful steer, twining his black forelock through my fingers and murmuring soothingly. AJ got yelled at by my dad and told to stay away from Ferdinand but it didn’t stop him. He still teases him at every opportunity.
“What happened to me?” I ask Ferdinand as if I expect the cow to know. He looks up at me adoringly, lifting his muzzle and chewing his cud. His brown eyes are big and round and he has the loveliest eyelashes. I know it’s weird but I love my steer more than anyone else. Sometimes, I almost wish he were human.
“AJ? Why’re you here? Where’s Jax?”
I look up and see my best bro (that is to say Jax’s best bro), Finnegan Fields staring at me. Small and light, he easily vaults the fence and lands in the lush grass of the pasture before making his way over to me while gingerly stepping around Ferdinand’s cow pies. He has a puzzled expression on his face.
“Hey, Finn,” I say, reaching out to grab his forearm in the classic ‘bro-lock’ that the real AJ is famous for. Finn stares at my outstretched hand for a moment as if confused about what to do.
“Hey!” he replies, finally squeezing me back. “You called me ‘Finn’! Only Jax does that.”
I clear my throat, “Oh, yeah, sorry.” I scrub my face in my hands, self-conscious. It’s really fucking weird that the face I feel is AJ’s and not mine.
“Ha! Did you really just apologize?” Finnegan chides. That’s one thing about Finn is he’s got balls of steel and has never been afraid to tease AJ, something I’ve never been brave enough to do. “The mighty AJ saying he’s sorry?! Pffft, I never thought I’d see the day! Are you sure yer not sick?” He brazenly reaches up to put a hand on my forehead, “Hmmm, no, yer not feverish.” He steps back and folds his arms, surveying me closely.
I flush under his scrutiny, noticing how pretty he is. (Whoa! Pretty? Maybe I am sick? I’ve never even thought about Finnegan in that way before.) He is shorter than me. Well, the new me, not the old me. And he’s thin and athletic. He has bright blue eyes and curly blond hair. He’s fresh-faced with just a tiny bit of reddish blond stubble on his cheeks. The tip of his pink tongue is resting on his lower lip as he studies me and the corners of his mouth are lifted in a beguiling grin. He looks younger than his seventeen years.
“Wait a minute,” he says, looking from me to Ferdinand. The steer is still leaning into my hand as I scritch the top of his head between his horns. “The cow isn’t attacking you.”
“He’s a steer, not a cow,” I growl, impressed by the cavernous rumble of my new voice. I’ve even adopted AJ’s gruff tone. “What’s yer fuckin’ point?”
Finnegan holds up his hands, “Nuthin’, bro! Nuthin’! Just makin’ an observation is all. It’s cool. I mean, it’s cool the c–er, steer likes you now.”
I try to maintain AJ’s stoney demeanor but it’s not long before my face cracks into a smile. I’m captivated by Finnegan, I realize. I’m beguiled by his spritely manner and elfin beauty. I find myself gazing down at him appreciatively and it’s not long before I feel a tightening in my groin region. I glance down and my cheeks color when I see the spreading stain over the big, blunt tip of my uncircumcised cock. It’s practically emblazoned against my shorts, such is its size and the snugness of the nylon material hugging my firm manhood.
I drop my hands over my crotch and turn away, saying over my shoulder, “I, uh, gotta get changed. I’m, um, all sweaty from working out here.” I look sheepishly back over my shoulder, offering, “Meet me down at the house? We could maybe play a game of hoops or sumthin’.”
“Hoops?” Finn repeats, mystified. “You really wanna play basketball…with me?” He laughs, “Who are you anyways?” Then he puts his hand up to his forehead like he’s a lookout at sea, joking, “AJ?! Where’s AJ? Anyone see him? Something happened to AJ! He’s been replaced by a doppelgänger!”
“Knock it off!” I grumble, trying out my best AJ impersonation. The problem is that nobody can play AJ besides AJ himself. I’m just not mean or callous enough. Plus, AJ’s cock is throbbing in my shorts and I’m having seriously impure thoughts about pending Finn over that fencepost over there and–I blush furiously, cutting off the thought.
Finn seems oblivious to my lurid, gay fantasies as well as my growing erection, and adopts a more serious tone, “Hey, have you seen Jax around? He tole me to meet him here fifteen minutes ago.”
This would be the perfect opportunity to come clean and tell him that I’m really Jax but, not only would he not believe me, it would ruin all of the fun. I’m really digging being my older brother and am not quite ready to reveal the truth yet. Besides, even if Finn did believe me, all it would do is create a ruckus and I’d never get a chance to nail his cute lil’ ass with my big man dick.
(Did I really just have that thought? Geesh, something really must be wrong with me! I’m straight! Totally straight. At least I was until a few minutes ago. I freeze then as another, even crazier notion occurs to me. If I’m inhabiting AJ’s body, does that mean I’m also inhabiting his sexuality? In other words, is AJ really secretly a homosexual? I find the idea both unbelievable and inexplicably alluring at the same time. AJ a fag? No way!)
Realizing that Finn is still waiting for my reply, I mumble something like, “Since when have I ever cared where Jax is? I don’t got a fuckin’ clue where the lil’ fucker is.”
I must be convincing because Finn relents. Looking around, he says, “If yer serious ‘bout playing basketball with me, I’d be into that. Maybe Jax will show up while we’re playing?”
That sounds good to me even though it gives me pause again. I’m really surprised by these hungry feelings for Finnegan that are pumping through my veins. It’s more than just my cock that wants to be close to him (and inside him), my heart is saying the same thing. I really do want to spend time with him today. Even more surprising is the conviction that I want to get to know him better as a person…and not just in the Biblical way.
“Yeah, bro,” I rumble. “Let’s do it.” I look down at my still tented crotch, realizing I need to change into some bigger clothes. Finn may not have noticed that I’m wearing Jax’s shorts but I sure can tell. I feel like they’re slowly strangling my man bits to death. “Hey,” I add, “Gimme a minute first, though. I’m gonna change.” I keep my big hands firmly over my bulge and head down the hill to the house.
“Sure, boss!” he calls out as I make my getaway. “See you on the court!”
I barely hear him because I’m too busy trying to make it look like I belong in AJ’s body. It’s harder than it should be and part of me worries that I’m shambling along like an animated corpse. How the fuck did AJ do it? This body is so big and bulky! I have no idea how the fuck I’m gonna play basketball without falling over and hurting myself.
This is the weirdest day ever.
***
I’m buck naked in AJ’s bedroom, rummaging through his dresser, trying to find appropriate clothes to wear. I pull out one of his stained jockstraps and pause, running the mesh between my fingers. For some reason, I lift it to my nose and inhale. Christ, it smells good! I mean, I smell good! I can’t believe the musky scent wafting off of my sweaty, muscly, hairy body is really mine. It permeates the fabric of his jockstrap, making my cock harden.
I look down at that cock and jerk in surprise.
It’s HUGE!
Fuck.
I’ve got a fuckin’ horsecock down there!
AJ’s cock is not only a lot bigger than mine but it’s also darker and his foreskin is a lot longer. It swings off the tip of my cockhead, the melanin growing in intensity the further down it goes. By the end, his foreskin is ebony black. Unable to resist temptation, I reach down and run my hand down its incredible length. It swells in my hand, putting on so much girth I can no longer reach my long fingers around it.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
AJ is fuckin’ HUNG!
His dick must be more than a foot long!
Giddy, I take a shuddering breath, trying to steady my nerves. In doing so, I get a load of my naked self in the mirror over the dresser and I almost keel over.
I’m fucking GORGEOUS!
Jesus.
I can’t believe what a stud AJ is!
I run my hand through my (his?) thick, black hair and wink at my reflection.
“Hello, studmeat,” I breathe, my erection bobbing heavily between my thighs.
“What’d you say?”
I whirl around and find Finnegan standing in the bedroom doorway behind me. I yelp, clapping my hands ineffectually over my giant manhood and bull balls. It’s no use, of course. They’re far too big even for my vastly enlarged hands to conceal. “Finn!” I holler, pointing at the door. “What the fuck? Get out!”
His eyes first go wide as he beholds my nude grandeur and then fill with hurt as my words land, leaving an emotional bruise. His cheeks are rosy as he looks down at the floor, backing his way out of the room, “Sorry, AJ. I didn’t mean to–”
Gah! I can’t take it. I’ve hurt my boy Finnegan and now I want to kill myself. The pain welling up in his blue eyes is like a knife to my heart.
“Finn.”
He looks up hopefully, “Yeah?”
“It’s Ok,” I say. “You can stay. You juss startled me is all.”
That smile! It brightens the whole room and makes my chest feel all sunny inside. He steps forward, eyes riveted to my body. “You sure?”
I drop my hands, allowing my mighty tool to swing free. I’m still more than half-hard but I don’t give a fuck. If Finnegan wants to ogle my big dong, I’m more than happy to let him. I like having his eyes on my body. I like his eyes on me.
That thought gives me momentary pause. Why is it that I’ve grown comfortable so quickly with what should be a totally panic-inducing, if not completely miraculous, event: Me–Scrawny little Jax–turning into my older brother AJ, a total Greek god? And a totally gay Greek god at that!
Not only am I feeling more and more at home in my older brother’s body but I’m also feeling free enough to walk around naked and aroused in front of one of his best friends. And, on top of that, I’m completely fine with the gay urges overpowering my sense of reason and decorum.
Yeah, that’s right.
I can’t deny it.
I’m attracted to Finnegan and not in a platonic way. I can’t get enough of him or his pretty eyes and pixie-like face. I want to seal those pouty little lips with mine and plug his tender little boy bud with my giant man cock.
Turning around, I step into the jockstrap I’d just been sniffing, conscious that Finnegan’s eyes are now glued to the bouncing orbs of my buttocks. I’ve got a seriously big bubble, I realize, as I try to pull on a pair of AJ’s shorts. My bounteous buttocks push out from my back, stretching the fabric almost to the ripping point. When I look over my shoulder, I realize that the top few inches of my crack are clearly visible because my shorts are too tiny to contain my ass cheeks. They jut out behind me more than a foot. Even the lower part of my t-shirt rests atop them, doing nothing whatsoever to cover them up.
I like it, I decide then, much to Jax’s confusion. (But not AJ’s.) I like having a big bubble butt.
It makes me feel slutty.
I don’t remember AJ having a big, bouncy booty like this but maybe I just didn’t notice? Somehow this stretches credulity even more than my ass is stretching AJ’s poor shorts but it’s the only explanation I can come up with because otherwise I look just like my older brother.
Is it my imagination or are Finnegan’s eyes slightly glazed? I decide I don’t care as I saunter out of AJ’s room with my butt cheeks clapping behind me. Finnegan follows in a daze.
***
We play hoops in the driveway in front of the garage and Finnegan is on me like a hotdog on a bun. It’s pretty extraordinary the metamorphosis he goes through as soon as we start playing. His formerly tentative, uncertain demeanor falls away and he becomes a whole new boy or man, actually. Yeah, he’s definitely not acting at all like the same boy from a few minutes ago. No, that Finnegan is gone and this one is going out of his way to bully me…and I kinda don’t mind.
Is this how he behaves when Jax isn’t around? Or is it just how he is when he’s certain he’s alone with AJ? Or maybe my clumsiness in AJ’s body is the reason behind his boldness?
That’s probably it, I decide.
I know Finn fairly well after all. When I was Jax, I was the undisputed alpha in the relationship but he was always there nipping at my heels, looking for any sign of weakness so he could take charge. Now that I’m trapped in AJ’s ungainly body, I’m a big oaf on the court, stumbling and staggering around and generally acting hapless. His attitude becomes more domineering the more I screw up and soon I’ve lost all of his respect. It doesn’t matter that I tower over him or that I weigh twice as much or even that I’m four years older, Finn has usurped my authority.
Pretty soon, we’re both worked up and sweaty, our bodies dripping and our clothing sopping wet. All of the jumping has given me a serious case of sore balls. Even my ass is starting to throb from bouncing up and down and the constant clapping of my big bootycheeks is distracting for both of us. But I don’t fuckin’ care because Finnegan is on fire on the court and treating me like shit. God, I fuckin’ love his sizzle and trashtalking.
“Had enough yet, Pussyboy?” he challenges, putting his hands on his skinny hips. “‘Cuz I haven’t even started. Do ya need to put in a tampon? Huh?”
“Fuck you,” I sputter but it’s half-hearted. I have to admit I’m liking this dominant side of him. He barely ever showed it to me when I was Jax but now he’s behaving like a total bantam rooster.
He’s not only mouthy, he isn’t above cheating, either. I call him out when I catch him traveling yet again. He merely shrugs his shoulders with infuriating nonchalance, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside. I’m momentarily distracted by his gloriously smooth chest, pert nipples and tiny, perfect abs. He takes the opportunity to steal the basketball out of my hands and shoots for a layup, easily scoring.
“Ten to three,” he pronounces as I groan in frustration. “My lead, Pussyboy.”
“Yer a fucker,” I mutter, reaching out to slap his tiny, perfect butt.
He slings the ball under his scrawny arm and turns to me, grinning wickedly. “You’re right about that, AJ,” he says, dropping a hand down to his crotch. “I am a fucker.” He laughs, a cocky, confident sort of laugh that makes my knees go inexplicably weak. “But ya already knew that, dontcha?”
A frisson of excitement zips down my spine, landing with a palpable shiver in my nether regions. “Huh?” I ask dumbly. He smirks and it’s hella sexy. This bullying side of Finn is doing things to my body that I don’t understand.
“C’mon, AJ!” he chides. “You can’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?”
“Forgotten what?” I ask, cheeks coloring with heat. It’s the heat of arousal, though, not the heat of exertion.
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t buy yer innocent act for one second ‘cuz this dick,” he gestures down to his tented crotch and my eyebrows go up, “is unforgettable. Ha! I had you cryin’ like a lil’ baby girl when I fucked yer big, fat ass last week!”
He brazenly reaches out and slaps my bouncy bubbles. The smack of my fleshy cheeks echoes off the garage and the nearby polebarn.
My asshole twitches and I flush as I experience a completely foreign sensation down there.
It feels like I’m getting…moist? I squirm, realizing it’s true. My ass crack isn’t just sweaty, there’s, like, something coming out of my butthole, too. I shift around and then sniff the air as an unfamiliar aroma hits my nostrils. What is the scent? It smells like peaches and seems to be wafting off of me somehow. But the question is from where? My cheeks color as I realize my nasty butthole is the source of this peachy aroma.
What the fuck?!
“That’s right, Pussyboy,” Finnegan continues, taking a step closer. “Yer a total whore for my big cock in yer hole. Ha! I always knew you were a big-butted, cock-hungry faggot under the tough jock act. Now,” he pauses, looking me dead in the eye. I find I can’t hold his gaze and look demurely down at the gravel at my feet, my cheeks reddening, “I know yer dyin’ to ride my big cock again like the little lusty trollop that you are.” He looks around, shrugging, “And I don’t see Jax nowhere around. Whaddaya say? Let’s take this inside where I can nail yer pussy in the shower? You need to douche first anyways.”
I blink in disbelief and then myself by stammering, “Y-Y-You won’t tell no one?” My butthole is leaking goo like there’s no tomorrow. “Ya won’t tell Jax?”
He laughs, “Nah, Pussyboy. This is our little secret. I’d hate to shatter Jax’s impression of his big brother. He worships you, you know.” (Well, that’s a bit of a stretch.) “Who knows what he’d do if he knew the truth. Ha!”
What would he do, indeed?
Probably wet his panties like he’s doing right now.
I lick my lips, both unnerved and titillated by this completely unexpected reversal of roles, not to mention the revelation that AJ has been secretly taking Finn’s cock up the butt. I mean, WTF?! AJ? A cockwhore?
I open my mouth to reply but, before I do, the roar of a truck engine fills the sultry, summery air and we turn to find Tank MacMullen barreling into the driveway. Tank is AJ’s best friend next to Tino and, as his name implies, one tough motherfucker. He drives a giant Ford F-750, purchased in cash after he signed with the Detroit Red Wings as their newest D-man last fall.
“Shit,” Finn curses. “Why’d he have to show up right now?”
Just like that, his bravado evaporates and he wilts in front of my eyes. In less than two seconds, that alluring machismo has been replaced by his more customary obsequiousness.
Tank’s truck comes to an abrupt halt with a showy spray of gravel as the back end fishtails, engulfing Finnegan and me in a cloud of dust. Finn coughs, waving his hand around in front of his face to clear the air. There’s a brief moment of silence before the driver’s side door swings open and Tank hops down off the mud guard. I stand there, frozen, as he swaggers over to us.
Tank is built like, well, a tank. He’s broad and beefy with wide shoulders and the stocky frame of a defensive linemen. His nose is crooked from being broken so often and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with all of his teeth intact. He’s blunt-featured and kind of ugly with shaggy, brown hair and a thick beard but somehow his ugliness is what makes him so attractive. At least that’s what my butthole is telling me as it starts trickling again like a leaky faucet.
He looks from me to Finnegan, setting his jaw as he stares Finn down. “You,” he says, pushing his big finger into Finn’s chest and making him windmill his arms to catch his balance, “are outta line.” He points off into the distance, “Go. Get outta here. Get movin’ before I fuckin’ kick yer scrawny lil’ ass! Leave AJ to me.”
Finn does something unexpected. Rather than cower in the face of Tank’s obvious dominance, he puffs up his narrow chest and stands on his tiptoes, yelling, “No! I won’t go! AJ’s mine! All mine!” He looks over at me, searching for confirmation, “He’s my cockslut!”
Tank laughs. It’s a deep, rich, guttural and utterly masculine sound that gets my butt-pussy all gooey and excited, “It’s that so? For one thing, AJ ain’t no slut.” He looks over at me and his blue eyes are twinkling, “At least that AJ ain’t. Not yet, at least.”
That AJ? My knees go weak then as a sick understanding washes over me. I know one thing for certain: Tank knows! He knows I’m not really AJ!
The statement goes right over poor Finn’s head, though. The boy stares at him, completely mystified, “Huh?”
Another chuckle from Tank, “Lemme put it another way: AJ is mine and mine only. I ain’t sharin’ him with you. Now get the fuck outta here before I do sumthin’ I regret.”
Both Finn and I take this to mean a threat of physical violence but it turns out we’re both wrong. Unfortunately for the hapless Finn, he has no idea what Tank has in mind because, if he did, I’m quite sure he wouldn’t have spat back at him, “And I’m telling YOU that AJ belongs to ME. Now YOU get the fuck outta here!” He points in the same direction that Tank had indicated.
I gotta hand it to Finnegan: He’s got a set of brass balls. I never would’ve guessed that he’d stand up to Tank like that. I look down at him and see that he’s glaring up at Tank, his eyes full of righteous fury. He really is willing to fight for me even when he’s completely outgunned. And speaking of guns…my eyes travel over to Tank’s big, impressive guns and a little thrill goes through me. He’s wearing a dark blue tank top that really shows off his huge muscles and strong arms. Not to mention his big, firm nipples.
“God, why’re you bein’ so bullheaded ‘bout this?” Tank says, exasperated. Then his eyes light up as he repeats, “Hmmm, ‘bullheaded’? Yeah, now that’s a good idea.”
Finn and I exchange perplexed glances and, sensing that I might be in danger, Finn moves in front of me to protect me. I’m quite touched by this. It’s like watching David stand up to Goliath.
If only.
Tank’s blue eyes glint with malice and the air seems to crackle around us as he points at Finnegan. There’s a pause and then Finn cries out in pain, grabbing his head in his hands and moaning. After a moment, he lets out a sound so similar to Ferdinand’s bellow that it makes my hair stand on end. Before I can stop him, Finn runs off around the side of the barn, still clutching his head and sounding for all the world like a wounded cow.
Tank watches him flee with rueful amusement, saying, “I’m sorry ‘bout that, Jax. I hope you don’t hate me ‘cuz Finnegan sure will when he finds out what I’ve done to him.”
I turn to him, my eyes going wide. “You do know,” I breathe. “You know who I am!”
He chuckles, a sound that is music to my ears. Everything Tank does and says, I soon learn, makes me desire him more. He reaches out and musses my hair, “Of course, you dope! I’m the one who did this to you.” He gestures to my–or AJ’s–body. “You can thank me later. Ha! In fact, I’m really hoping you’ll thank me by riding my dick.” He sighs and I feel my butt leak more peachy juice. “But I don’t wanna get ahead of myself. Here,” he holds out his arm like a gentleman, “Come with me? I’ve got a weekend of fun planned that you won’t wanna miss!”
***
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