Interactive: Three Word Difference (Part 2)

“I wish I was a middle aged ex-jock,” Adam said with confidence, only realizing, after it was out of his mouth, that those weren’t quite the words he’d been planning on saying. “Wait, I…that’s not what I…I swear I didn’t mean–”

But before he could try and correct himself, he felt a strange force wash over him, as the genie’s eyes grew rather intense, flashing through so many colors and shades he couldn’t barely understand what he was seeing, the mist picking up that same brilliance all around him, as the wish began to take form.

Adam began to grow. He was a rather small fellow to begin with, around five foot nine inches, and around 140 pounds soaking wet. He felt a heat radiating out from his chest and abdomen, shocks and waves of heat shooting down his arms and legs, and he had to cling to one of the bookshelves in the dorm room to try and keep balance. He picked up around six inches, growing to six foot three–even taller than Eli, his roommate was, and his muscles were growing as well, his legs growing massive cords of muscle from calf to thigh, pecs inflating across his chest, his arms and shoulders bulging out as well…but while the muscle was appreciated, some of the other physical changes were less so.

The gut was one thing. Adam had never had much fat on him, but even as muscle packed on everywhere else, his abdomen inflated into a rock hard muscle gut, large enough that when he tried to stand up straight, he found it difficult to balance with leaning back somewhat. As the growth slowed down, he felt something between a shudder, shiver, and goosebumps spread across his arms, legs, chest and back, and hair began to grow…everywhere. Brown at first, the same color as his hair, but then there was some grey sprinkled through the hairs, and then, there was almost an even amount all over his body in a thick coating. He found his way to the mirror in the room, and saw that his face was no longer the youthful one he recalled. His hair was cut short, but obviously receding past the crown of his head, a short, greying beard spreading around his face as well. He looked to be in his forties at least, and he rubbed his face, rubbed the rest of his body, certain this had to be a hallucination.

“Look, I…I didn’t fucking want this, this wasn’t the wish I thought I was saying!” Adam said, as he turned to the genie, speaking in a much deeper voice now, with a certain, gravelly tone to it.

“Do not be ashamed Master, I know that many…gay men–that is what they call you now, isn’t it? Enjoy the idea of being…a daddy? A bear? I’m not sure what to call them, really. You are rather handsome, are you not?”

Adam turned back to the mirror, and the genie wasn’t wrong, of course, but still, he…what had he wanted to say? Everytime he tried to think about it, that same string of words was all that would come to him, but he knew…knew what, exactly? Had the genie tricked him somehow? But they why couldn’t he recall how it must have happened? Maybe he…he was mistaken.

“It is a shame about that shoulder though, isn’t it?” the genie said, eyes flashing and shifting in a more subtle manner now. 

Adam saw a number of scars appear on his right shoulder, where he’d had it rebuilt in his senior year of college, effectively ending his budding football career in the process. Wait–that hadn’t happened, had it? “Don’t…don’t fuck with my memories, I don’t want to forget who I was!”

“How could you forget! You were a star, weren’t you? But all good things must end, as they say, and that was years ago now. Your life has not been bad, has it?”

He was twisting things. The mist was rising up around him, obscuring everything, choking him even, making his head spin. He tried to cling to who he’d been, but that small, tiny man seemed so far away now. He’d been…fuck, he’d been scouted by so many national teams, and overnight, it had all evaporated, and now…now he was here. The mist fell away, and Adam was no longer in a dorm room, but in his small, one bedroom apartment–looking at himself in the dirty bathroom mirror he hadn’t cleaned in, well, years probably. It was his bachelor pad. The genie was right, of course, it wasn’t a bad life. He made decent money working in construction, after his shoulder had healed up. He worked out a lot of course–he couldn’t imagine a life without going to the gym five days a week. Boys were always interested in hooking up with him, now that he was a proper daddy, and a few even loved calling him coach, which was always a fun scene.

The genie’s eyes returned to their normal, now that Adam’s new identity was well in place. He would not remember being that man he’d been before–unless the genie deemed it, of course. He would recall making a wish, but not the details of it–and it would seem…unimportant. Adam left the bathroom and went into the messy living room, smelling himself on the air, and he was…a bit disappointed. The place was a mess, really, and while he knew he could fix that with the genie–hell, he could go back and make his injury never happen! He…didn’t really want to be that pro athlete now. But there was one thing about that life he resented that he’d never gotten–the money.

“Alright genie, here’s my wish. I wish I was fucking rich!”

Or at least, that’s what he tried to say. The genie chuckled to himself, tinkered with time, with Adam’s words, and what came out instead was…


Here’s the next poll! As usual, you can pick up to two options below. Here’s the bonus poll for patrons as well.

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