This was definitely shaping up to be the best Spring Break ever, Nate thought to himself as the twins flanked him on the balcony, leaning in, licking and kissing, their hands exploring his tight, gym toned body where everyone could see them, but he didn’t care. He was drunk. He was hot. He was horny. And how often did two twins start hitting on you in a bar, telling you how much they want you to be their afternoon plaything.

“What do you think bro? Who do you want to play with today?”

Nate’s brow furrowed–they were playing with him, right?

“I’m thinking, a bottom.”

“Oooh, yeah, we had that powertop this morning, and my ass is still sore. But I’d like some humiliation, I’d like to let off some steam, having someone beg for my cock.”

“Mmm…like an old daddy, eh? Desperate for our young cocks?”

“Yeah, I love that, tattooed all over, two inch cock, desperate for pain, wanting us to degrade and abuse him…”

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” Nate said, pushing his way out from between them, “I…I mean…I mean, please…” he said, getting down on his knees on the balcony, “Please, would you two hot studs fuck this old faggot? Please, I need your young cocks so bad, I’m desperate. Do whatever you want with me, I’m fucking worthless, please…”

One of the twins pulled his nine inch cock from within his jeans and slapped it across Nate’s face, and then rammed the entire shaft in deep, making Nate gag, his white mustache rubbing against the twin’s trimmed bush, both of his young hands on Nate’s smooth, tattooed scalp, and he rubbed his tiny cock through the front of his grimy jeans, before the twins shoved him inside and really got down to business.

They abandoned him after a few hours, bored again, and Nate just stared at himself in the mirror of the hotel room. They’d told him to get out before they came back, or he wouldn’t like what they’d do to him next. Still, that was ok–he was just a worthless faggot after all…right? He could…he could almost remember something else, but it was so hard to remember what had happened. He felt so empty–he needed some abuse. He left the hotel room and headed for the scummiest gay bar he could find, trolling for anyone to kick his ass, and by the end of break, he ended up enslaving himself to a rough leather fist master, and he got all the abuse he could have wanted.

The summer was sweltering, and Jordan was definitely thankful for having a pool out back that he could jump in at anytime he felt like. He’d wake up late, after his parents had already left for work, throw on his swim trunks and after a quick protein shake for breakfast, he’d be out back in the pool.

However, if Jordan had bothered to turn on the TV this morning, he would have found out that a chemical company had accidentally dumped an unknown, untested chemical into the river the night before, polluting the entire neighborhood’s water supply, his pool included. That said, when Jordan stepped out onto the patio, he definitely knew something was up, because the usually clear water was instead a vibrant green.

Still, Jordan wasn’t about to let something like that deter him from his daily pool, and the day was heating up quick. It didn’t smell bad after all, and it even tasted normal. With a shrug, he dove in, swam a couple of laps before his skin started to tingle and he was starting to struggle in the water for some reason. Figuring he should probably get out, he maneuvered over to a side ladder and tried, unsuccessfully, to heft himself up out of the pool.

He just felt so weak all of a sudden, and like his body weighed a whole lot more than it should have. He gave it another try, eyes shut in concentration, and managed to heft himself up the ladder and onto the side of the pool, huffing hard, when he looked down at himself in disbelief. What in the hell had the water done to him? He’d packed on close to a hundred pounds, and his body was covered with hair. His swim trunks were nowhere to be seen; he must have burst out of them in the water without even noticing. Still coated in the water, he rushed inside to get a better look at himself in a mirror, but by the time he’d gotten to the one in the hall, he saw that the changes had progressed even further. The hair on his head was entirely gone, and the beard which had sprouted across his face was now not only several inches long, but nearly entirely white. His gut was now hanging even lower, and the rest of his body was filling out, making it hard for him to walk, and the hair on his skin was so dense he could barely see his skin.

Realizing that he was still coated in the strange water, he waddled back out and dried himself off with a towel, but the damage was done. Weighing in at over 600 pounds, inch long hairs coating his entire body, aged to look nearly seventy years old, Jordan discovered one last side effect of the water–his balls. They had swelled up to nearly four times the size, eclipsing the cock he could no longer reach imbedded in his fat, and unable to help himself, he spent the rest of the day fucking his fat pad, shooting load after load of cum, sobbing and unable to control himself, until his parents got home from work and took him to the hospital.

Needless to say, Jordan received a sizeable settlement from the chemical company, but the changes were irreversible. One silver lining was that, even though Jordan looked to be seventy, he was still as healthy as he’d been in his late teens, and the fat he’d gained appeared to have no health dangers–though he never managed to lose a pound of it. Instead, he resigned himself to a life as a rich, obese old pervert, jacking off nearly constantly–but he never went into a pool again.

It wasn’t easy for Jed, being gay over fifty miles away from a major city. Out in the sticks, well, things still weren’t quite as a forward thinking as he might have liked, but he did his best to act straight country, and he did like the look, especially cowboy hats which he wore almost all of the time, and he definitely liked country boys.

Well, country men, at least.

Yeah, he had a thing for trailer trash, and his small town had plenty of it, and a big Walmart–perfect for cruising some of his favorite guys. Sammy McKline, in particular, was one of his favorites. In his late forties, his hair and beard years uncut with a big full gut, and lips full of chaw, he was straight out of one of Jed’s fantasies. He was easy to catch too, because he did all of his grocery shopping on Tuesday nights, letting Jed show up and nonchalantly follow him around the aisles, but Jed had noticed something recently. Ever since a couple of weeks ago, when he was certain he’d been spotted, Sammy had started dressing…kind of strangely, and this week was crazy, walking around in a camo jacket, open without a shirt, just letting his big gut hang out for Jed to ogle. It was like…he wanted him to look.

Maybe he did want him to look.

Hell, maybe he wanted Jed to do more than look.

The butterflies in Jed’s gut weren’t going to subside anytime soon, and Sammy chuckled, watching the kid sweat. He could remember some of his first fantasies too, but well, the kid wasn’t his type. Way too young for one thing, and from the lack of a bulge, way too small for Sammy’s tastes, but watching the kid sweat, biting his lower lip and openly lust for his big gut was kind of flattering.

Jed was still following Sammy around the aisles, not watching where he was going, when he bumped into some other guy hard enough to send them both to the ground.

“Oh geez mister, Sorry ‘bout that, I wasn’t watchin’ where I was goin’,”

“Heh, don’t worry about it,” the older man said, and plopped Jed’s cowboy hat back on his head, “Though I think you might have dropped this. Have a good night, Jed.”

“Wait, how did you know my name?” Jed asked, but the man was already hurrying off, and he felt a strange tingle from the hat work it’s way down into him, and he felt like he was going to be sick. He dashed into one of the changing rooms, and Sammy laughed. Boy couldn’t take it anymore, and probably had to have a wank. Maybe next week he’d come in one of his jocks and leave his fly open, see how he liked that. Sammy finished up his shopping and after a long wait in the checkout line, he paid for his food and wheeled his cart out to the car, where he stopped dead in his tracks.

Leaning up against the side of his truck was the hottest fucking cowboy he’d ever seen, shirt and pantless, wearing only a jockstrap packed full of what Sammy imagined might be one of the biggest cocks he’d ever seen. The cowboy took a drag off the cigar he was smoking and grinned at Sammy. “Been watching you all night, big boy–how about you and I take a ride back to your place? It’s chilly out here.”

The Eighth Day of Christmas

Five A.M. and Liam was up out of bed, grumbling and muttering as he started getting his suit on. These fucking unpaid internships–they were the only jobs he could seem to find these days, but all they seemed to do was string him along with possible job openings if he showed real dedication to the team, and then they’d still dump him at the end of the his contract. This was his second one, and thankfully his parents were footing the bill for rent, but maybe he actually had a shot this time…even if in meant having to get up and go into work at the office on Christmas.

It was only after he was dressed in one of his cheap suits that he realized he hadn’t even needed to get up that early at all–he usually got on the road early to beat the traffic, but there wasn’t going to be any traffic today. Hell, there wouldn’t even be anyone in the office today aside from a security guard or two. Certainly not his asshole boss, Marvin, who would be at home with his wife and kid, opening presents while Liam was busy finishing the presentation he would be giving to the board in a couple of days. It was ridiculous–Liam put more effort in at the job than Marvin did anyday, but he was the one getting paid nothing, and Marvin knew it. Still, if it meant landing a real job, it was worth it, right?

He left the bedroom and went into the kitchen to get some breakfast, but froze when he saw the fat, shirtless man scarfing down a pack of cookies and some milk from his fridge. “What the fuck?” Liam said, “How in the hell did you get in here?”

“Well, someone’s up bright and early!” Santa said, “And all dressed for work? Who in the world makes someone work on Christmas day?”

“I don’t–who in the hell are you?”

“Oh Liam, you already know the answer to that question,” Santa said, coming out of the kitchen towards the young man, “But you know what? You work too hard. How about I give you the chance to retire early, eh?”

Before Liam could step back, Santa had shot him with a ray of his Christmas magic, and the force was enough to send Liam stumbling back a few steps, but after only a step or two he felt something behind him, and he fell back into a cushy armchair that he couldn’t seem to remember owning. Still, it felt really comfortable, and he let out a sigh, giving his large apron a rub through the fabric of his favorite silk shirt, his tie knotted up under his third chin so he could feel his fat hang over the collar, and he took a long draw off his pipe, feeling more at ease than he had in years.

“Oh yes, that’s much better,” Santa said, looking at the obese old man in front of him, puffing on his pipe. Liam’s eyes still had a bit of confusion in them, and before he could forget his old self entirely, Santa gave a wave in the air in front of the chair, forming a large, ornate mirror out of nothing, and Liam gasped.

“What in the world!” he said, not even recognizing his raspy, deep voice, “I’m–I’m old!”

He couldn’t take his eyes away from his face, now deeply lined with wrinkles, a thick walrus mustache covering his upper lip and drooping over his mouth, the stem of his large bowl pipe sprouting out from it, puffing smoke. He had a pair of half moon spectacles perched on a bulbous nose, and what remained of his hair was little more than a thin horseshoe of white above his liver spotted ears. Looking around the room, he saw that his cheap apartment was gone, and he was in what appeared to be a huge mansion that he could vaguely recall living in…but this couldn’t be real, could it?

“Now, what should I get a new retiree like you as a present?” Santa asked, chuckling, “How about a new toy to play with in your free time?” He motioned to the fireplace, and a moment later someone fell out of it–Marvin, his old boss. “How about a nice, obedient cub for a perverse old grandpa bear?”

Marvin, coughing and unsure of what had just happened, stumbled to his feet, but something was wrong. He was…shorter? And had he always been this chubby? He looked over and saw his daddy smoking his pipe in his favorite armchair, and his heart started beating faster, as Liam sneered and pulled out his cock from a thicket of white pubes. He might need viagra to get it up, but once it was up, he could be hard for hours. “Should…should I go get a pill daddy?”

“I think so cub,” Liam said, “I think I know what you’re going to be getting for Christmas already…”

Marvin scrambled up and Liam watched his cub, naked as he liked in the house, scurry to the bathroom to retrieve the magic blue pill, and Liam looked around, feeling like there should have been someone else there…but who? No matter, he thought, taking a long draw on his pipe, a horny cub and a long retirement is all he really needed anyway.

The Second Day of Christmas

“Hey…uh, dad?…Dad?” Billy said from the doorway, a small, delicately wrapped present under his arm as he stood in the doorway to his father’s office. “Dad?” he repeated again, not sure his father had heard him or not.

Without diverting his eyes from the email he was writing, Edward–Billy’s father–said, “What is it Billy? I have a slew of emails to write before I get to bed, and I have an early flight tomorrow.”

“I know, that’s why…well, you’re usually up and out so early, and it’s Christmas, and so I thought you might want to unwrap your present tonight.”

“We’re having Christmas when I get back on Friday–you know that. You can have Christmas with your mom tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but–”

“I’ll open it then Billy. Now get to bed–it’s late and you have school.”

“It’s winter break dad.”

“Well you still have studying to do, don’t you?” Edward said, growing a bit annoyed, “You aren’t going to graduate as valedictorian this spring if you don’t get an A in Japanese.”

With a frustrated sigh, Billy retreated and went to his room, and Edward kept rattling off emails, getting his team ready to be without their lead manager for the next few days while he traveled to Taiwan for a sales conference. Several hours later though, he was finished, and it was only ten–plenty of time to sleep, get up at three, and leave for the airport.

He shut down the computer and headed towards his bedroom, noticing that his son’s light was still on as he passed it. He paused for a moment, running his hand through his balding hair. Maybe he’d been too hard, but he’d already planned on having Christmas later in the week…who would have thought being a dad would have been so hard? Hell, who would have thought being a husband would have been even harder? Here he was, forty-six, a great career and no life to show for it. Still, he couldn’t stop now–he’d made his bed, so he might as well sleep in it. He trudged down the hallway, wishing he’d taken better care of his body along the way, too. He wasn’t exactly fat, but “pudgy” didn’t exactly help him meet women. He let himself into his bedroom, was surprised to find the lights were on…and that the entire room was different.

“What the fuck?” he said, staring around the room. Everything was different–but by far, the biggest change was that his bed had been replaced by a gigantic crib. The walls were all a soft baby blue, and the shelves of books and awards from his years of work had been replaced by stuffed animals and toys meant for toddlers. He stepped into the room in a bit of a daze, when he felt something strange, a warmth in his crotch, and looking down, he saw a dark stain spreading across the front of his suit pants and down one leg. He was pissing himself, right here in the middle of the room, and try as he might, he couldn’t stop the flow.

“Well, it looks like Eddie has already found his way to his new nursery, William,” a voice said behind him, and Edward spun around, finding two older gentlemen in the doorway. The first looked like some sort of sex-crazed Santa Claus, but the other–he looked to be in his sixties, with a full beard and large gut, wearing a very classy business suit, and he chuckled.

“Eddie, what have I told you about playing dress up in daddies’ suits?” the man said, walking to Edward with a smirk, but when he saw the stain on the crotch of the pants, his smile turned to a scowl, “Eddie, did you have an accident? What have I told you? Little men like you always need to keep their diapers on. Looks like someone needs a spanking…”

Before Edward could do anything about it, William had grabbed him and bent him over his leg with his pants down, smacking his ass hard enough that it made Edward cry, but after ten palms William stopped and pulled Eddie close to his chest, and he felt…he felt safe there, against his father’s chest, and he could feel his peepee starting to get hard. William felt it too, and he slid a finger into Eddie’s ass, feeling his son moan at the intrusion, and started kissing him. Santa, pleased with the new father son relationship, left them for the chimney, and it was a few hours later, well fucked and safely diapered, that William settled Eddie into his new crib, resolving to be a much better daddy than “Edward” had ever been to him.

Riley was on an adventure, and he was just going to let the road take him wherever it wanted. He’d always wanted to go on a long road trip, but being poor on cash and rich with time, he decided that the best idea would be to simply hitchhike around during his summer break from college. Everything had gone well so far, but the next person who stopped for him was in a beat up, rusted out pickup truck, and the hick rolled down the window, letting fly a stream of black tobacco spit onto the ground inches from Riley’s foot. “Where ya headin’, boy?”

“Oh…uh, anywhere, I guess…” Riley said, but he didn’t really feel like getting into the truck with this nasty fat man in grimy overalls.

“Heh, well, I’ll take ya anywhere ya wanna go, if ya suck mah dirty cock fer me.”

“I’m not a faggot, and I’m not that desperate,” Riley said.

“Heh, yeah, I reckon ya ain’t–how’s ‘bout we change that?”

Riley felt something shiver it’s way through him, and he dropped his pack to the ground, looking down at his shirtless chest and torso, as it started to sag out with a soft layer of fat, his skin growing rough and wrinkled–and covered with grey hairs. Something brushed against his chest, and reaching up, he felt a thick beard descending from his face, his hair growing out wild and unkempt into a huge, curly mass and fell back past his shoulders. In a panic, he spun around to the shop window, where he could make out his reflection in the glare–no longer a fit college athlete traveling the country, but a destitute old man. New memories flooded into him, how he’d been homeless for decades now, relying on the kindness of strangers for shelter and food, traveling the country before any place could get too sick of him. He was trying to move on out of town now–and while it wouldn’t be the first cock he sucked to get a ride…no, not this guy, he’d done something to him, changed him.

“What the fuck did you do to me!” he shouted at the man.

“You want a ride or not?” the hick said.

“Fuck no, not with you, no fucking way.”

“Heh, guess yer still not desperate enough–we can fix that though.”

Riley felt a second shiver deep in his gut, a new need stirring within him, and he licked his grimy lips. Fuck, he was hungry for some cum–he hadn’t sucked any dick all day, and he was desperate, and he bet this guys cock was good ‘n ripe, just how he liked them–the filthier the better.

“Sure man, I’ll ride with ya, ‘n I’m happy tah suck yer cock too,” Riley said, throwing his ragged pack in the back of the man’s truck and walking around to the passenger seat, his head down in the fat farmer’s lap even before he’d gotten the truck moving, the farmer grinning from ear to ear as he headed off down the road and onto the highway with his passenger.

Adam didn’t know why he kept his membership here–this gym was a freakshow. Filled with faggots for one thing, most of them so roided up they could barely think straight. They, in turn, attracted the lechers, the fat old men who would pretend to work out on machines, and just ogle the muscle men throughout the room–it was disgusting. He was always careful to wear his cross–that seemed to discourage most of them from looking at him, at least. He’d gotten his fit body from the army, and liked to maintain it after he retired, but this was getting ridiculous.

It was late one night, after his workout, that Adam chanced a shower, since the room was empty. When he stepped out, however, he discovered that he wasn’t quite as alone as he’d thought. A towering man was waiting for him next to his locker, wearing just a jockstrap, muscled beyond belief–but he didn’t look like the other muscleheads in the gym. His eyes were intelligent–cruel even, and Adam clutched his cross, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.

Ah, Adam–I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you, but that silly bauble of yours has been such a bother–it’s been keeping you from seeing me for weeks now. Patrick was nice enough to defile it for me, at least.”

“What?” Adam said, stepping back, “Who–who are you?”

“I’m the owner of this club–and a demon. Tell me Adam, looking at me, what do you see?”

Adam wasn’t sure what to say, “You’re…you’re huge, I mean, more muscular than anyone else here.”

“Muscular? Really?” the demon laughed, “I wasn’t expecting that from you–looks like you’re more of a looker than a poser.”

“What?”

The demon started posing, his cock tenting and stretching his jockstrap tight, “What you see, is who you are, Adam. Am I a lecherous old voyeur? Then you’re an exhibitionist muscle god–but if I’m the muscle god, then that must mean you’re the lecher. So go on Adam, have a good long look–enjoy yourself.”

Adam tried to look away–but he couldn’t. His own cock was rock hard now, and he started stroking it as he watched the demon dance for him, tease him, flex for him. Everything that Adam could want in a man–everything that he wasn’t soon enough. His hair receding back and turning white, fat burying his muscles as the hours wore on, his cock red hot and erect the entire time, the demon ripping the cross off Adam’s neck as he came, the cross one of his muscle pigs had cum on in the locker room the day before.

Adam was there at the gym every day afterwards, ogling the muscle men, begging them to let him suck their cocks or fuck his loose asshole.

“So, do you like it?”

“Like it? It’s great. I still can’t believe you’re only offering it for a thousand bucks a month. I was sure that was a typo,” Derrick said as the older landlord showed him around the room.

“Nope, it isn’t a typo at all–still, I do have several other interested parties, however. Would you like to take the lease? It’s a year long, but if you don’t bite now, I can’t guarantee it’ll be here later.”

Derrick looked around the bare apartment again, and couldn’t help but feel a bit pressured. There had to be something he was missing, but the guy seemed on the level about everything, and he’d given an honest tour, pointing out the deficiencies of the apartment, and the reason it was only one thousand bucks a month. Still, it was better than living with his parents any longer, and so he shrugged and asked, “Where do I sign?”

The landlord helped him through the contract, filled with his initials and signatures, after Derrick had read a summary of what the contract included. Still, when he hit the final line, and added his signature there, he felt a sudden jolt of energy from his pen, and he was blown back, toppling over the chair where he landed with a thud on the ground.

Groaning and aching, he rolled over and hefted himself upright, feeling a bunch of aches and pains that he didn’t even recognize, and looked over at the landlord–or the guy who was where the landlord had been sitting. He looked to be a good thirty years younger–and that was when Derrick looked down at himself, at his flabby hairy belly, and felt his balding head, and freaked out. He ran for the door and flung it open, only to smack right into some sort of invisible barrier keeping him inside.

“What, trying to leave your new home so soon, Derrick? Thanks for the thirty years by the way–I was getting tired of being that old. After a few thousand years, bodies have a way of running out faster than usual–I need young men like you every few months just to stay young. Still I’m sure you’re going to love your new living situation–I’ve even arranged for you to work from home, since you won’t be leaving for a good long while.”

The landlord explained that part of the lease bound Derrick to become a gay gainer–he eat for the cameras he installed in his in the room, as well as consent to being fed by whoever the landlord let into his room. Derrick, of course, was horrified and tried to resist, but the contract was very, very binding, as the landlord ordered then ten pizzas and stuffed every single one down into his growing gut. By the end of the year when his lease was up, Derrick was just another perfectly compliant tennet, weighing in at over 500 pounds. He happily signed a new fifty year lease on the spot, planning on living there for the rest of his life.

“See? I told you you’d like cigars–you’re manly enough for them,” Bruce said, watching his roommate, Phil take a deep drag off the cigar, still dressed in his suit from work, his eyes starting to glaze over a bit as he moaned. A five o’clock shadow sprouted up on his smooth face suddenly, and Bruce couldn’t help but run his hand along it, watching him shiver.

“Fuck–I feel so…”

“Manly? Butch?” Bruce finished. He was slender and smaller than his roommate, and he got down on his knees in front of him, unzipping the front of his suit, pulling out Phil’s cock and he sucked it down. Bruce tried to stop him, he wasn’t gay, and he’d had no idea Bruce swung that way, but when he tried to push him off,  he grabbed Bruce’s hair instead and started fucking his face roughly, inhaling more and more of the smoke. “Fuck…boy…”

“No,” Bruce said, pulling away, and looking a bit annoyed, “Not your boy–I’m gonna be your son.”

Phil just stared at him, his stubble now a beard, his suit fitting awkwardly against his body, which was bulking up with muscle and fat as he sat there. His head was foggy too, and it was hard to think about anything other than how much he wanted to fuck Bruce right now. “Get–Get back down there and finish me off, you fucker…” he said gruffly, in a voice an octave too deep.

“Nuh uh, not until you say it. You know you want to be a daddy, right? You want a son you can abuse, a manly son like you are. You don’t want a skinny twink like me, do you?”

Bruce leaned in closer and ran a finger down the thickening shaft of Phil’s cock, and unable to help himself, he waited until after Bruce had inhaled off the cigar, and then grabbed the sides of his head, and locked lips with him, sucking the smoke from his lungs. Phil didn’t really know what was going on, but he let the smoke pass between them, feeding it to his roommate, and then felt Bruce push back into him, back and forth for who knew how long, until Bruce finally let go and stumbled back.

Phil did a double take–Bruce looked completely different–in fact, he looked like…he did. He was shorter, but much stockier, growing out of his own clothes, and seeing him lick his lips…his son lick his lips, Phil growled and stood up, ripping the clothes off him, and sucking on his son’s neck, marking him, feeling him squirm, and then he shoved him down on his knees. “Suck it, son–suck daddy’s big cock.”

Something for Something (Part 1)

Commissioned by Anonymous

“Alright, miss, here we are–and feel free to call anytime you need a lift,” Miles said, as he pulled up next to the curb.

“Thanks again, sir,” the girl in the backseat of the car said, grabbed her backpack and climbed out of the campus security car, which had picked her up at the library and dropped her off in front of the house. In the front seat, Miles and Ed watched to make sure she got into her house, and then set off back to campus a few blocks away. Miles had pulled away and reached the end of the block before Ed started to giggle in the seat next to him.

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Ha, she called you ‘sir’! I always knew this day would come,” Ed said, laughing openly now, “I can’t believe it, my little security bumpkin has finally become a man.”

Miles scowled as he turned down a sidestreet and skulked a bit in the driver’s seat. He was at most six or seven years older than the college girl he’d just dropped off, but apparently he was already out of touch enough to warrant a “sir.” He didn’t want to be a “sir,” and he was sick and tired of working this damn security job. He’d been assigned to work with security services while he was attending school as a Freshman, and that’s when he’d first met Ed. Ed was an old timer–he’d worked for the school for close to forty years now, and as much as Miles liked the old guy, he didn’t want to be him, and yet it seemed like everything in his life had conspired to trap him here, in this faux squad car, dropping off girls that never seemed to age at the same houses off campus, and he gave a heavy sigh.

“Aww, hey, cheer up–you’re only as old as you feel.”

“And what does that make you, eighty?”

“Oh don’t get snappy with me, boy, we still have five hours on this shift, and I don’t want you getting all pissy and morose. It’s annoying. This is my last semester after all–maybe be a little happy that at least it only took close to half a century for me to escape.”

“Don’t remind me. I don’t want to be stuck doing this for the rest of my life. I had plans man, I had…gah…” Miles stopped himself before he rehashed the same old sob story for Ed to hear once again. The old guard was way more tolerant of his bullshit than he had any right to be, but Miles still didn’t want to push him away with a plea for pity. “Sorry, I won’t get into it.”

“Trust me, I understand better than most, kid.”

They got back to campus, and parked in a lot outside close to the library, ready for the next person who wanted to be ferried from safe haven to safe haven, and neither of them said anything for a while. Ed was either sleeping or pretending to sleep, and Miles was thinking back to all of those failed applications to grad school, how all of that work had been for nothing, all because his thesis’ conclusions had contradicted those of Dr. Taylor, the head of the chemistry department on campus, and his big money donors. Miles had been the most gifted student the department had ever seen, but thanks to Dr. Taylor’s insistence or writing him a personal recommendation, not a single school would accept him for graduate study. Effectively blacklisted and muzzled, he’d managed to receive a full time position on the security staff at campus, and here he was still. He could see the science building from where he was parked, and there were a few offices still lit, and he realized with a start that Dr. Taylor’s light was on. “That fucker…” Miles said under his breath.

“Who, your Goliath?”

“Yeah, shut the fuck up.”

“Hey, I’m sympathetic kid, but academia is a monster. You were too much of an idealist–you wanted to be right, more than you wanted to be successful. Life’s full of tradeoffs–you can’t get something for nothing.”

“What would I have to give up for a chance at revenge?”

Ed was quiet for a moment, “Is that what you’d really want?”

Miles thought for a moment, and then nodded, “Yeah, actually. What the hell, I don’t have anything waiting for me now–no girlfriend, no decent jobs, just one long slog to the grave, in the rut you so nicely ran down for me.”

“Well, a long slog can be fun,” Ed said, but saw that Miles was serious. He looked at him, wondering if it was worth it. It might not even work–sometimes it didn’t, but hey, if that’s want Miles wanted–what he really wanted–then it couldn’t hurt to try. Ed picked up the radio and said, “Hey Melissa, we’re gonna leave the car for a bit, gonna look into something in the science building.”

He didn’t bother to wait for confirmation, he just climbed out of the car, and Miles, wondering what was up, climbed out after him. “Where are you going Ed?”

“You’ll see–come on. I want to try something.”

Miles just hurried to catch up to the old guy as he crossed campus, matching his pace as they walked up to the science building and let themselves into the building. “Ed what the fuck are we doing?” Miles whispered, but Ed just started climbing stairs up to the chemistry department’s floor, and then they walked down the hall to the employee offices, Mile’s heart beating faster all the while, but he was actually curious about what Ed was doing. He’d almost expected them to go to Dr. Taylor’s office and tell him off or something, but they went in the other direction instead, until Ed came to an empty office which was set aside for the occasional visiting professor, or overflow instructors, and let himself in, waiting for Miles to follow before shutting the door behind them both. “Ok Ed, what the fuck is up?”

“Listen for a second, alright? Were you serious back in the car, about wanting revenge?”

Miles was a bit taken aback, and something in the older man’s creased face told him not to lie, and so he thought for a moment, not entirely sure himself. But at the end of the day, he was serious. He did want revenge, but he just felt powerless. Still, if he had the chance, he would have loved to discredit Dr. Taylor’s bullshit research, he would love to know that fucker down a few pegs. “Yeah, I was, and I am.”

“And you understand that in order to get something, you have to give something up, right? It might be things you weren’t even imagining, it might not even be worth it at the end of the day. Revenge is a costly thing–it can be worth it, but it’s costly. It wounds your soul in ways that you can’t understand until afterwards.”

“Ed, you’re freaking me out, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Ed just stared at him, knowing that if he tried to explain the whole story, they would lose their chance, and so he decided to wing it, he waved his hands in a momentary, complex pattern, and then laid them both on Mile’s chest, and after a single heartbeat, Miles was shoved back against the door by some invisible force.

“What the fuck was that?” he said, looking at Ed, but the older man was just looking at him, and smiling the oddest smile. “What was that Ed–could you give me an answer please?”

“It was magic.”

“Magic?”

“Let’s just say you might get what you wished for. I did warn you though–it can come with some…penalties.”

“I don’t–” Miles said, but gave a lurch, as one of his legs suddenly shortened substantially, his body standing cockeyed for a moment before the second one caught up, and dropped him down to a few inches under five feet. “What…the fuck…?” Miles said, looking down at his shorter stature, and then up at Ed. “You fucker.”

“I warned you…”

“What the fuck did you do to me, I’m fucking short!” Miles was craning his head up to look at Ed, and found the new perspective disconcerting. Nothing looked right–it was like somehow the entire room and everything in it had been grabbed and stretched upward away from him.

“It’s not going to stop there. Here maybe I should…hmm…yeah,” Ed said, and then wiggled his fingers at the wall and the entire surface shimmered before warping into a seamless mirror, and Miles looked at himself, looked at them both, and couldn’t believe how small he was. He didn’t want to be small! The sudden flash of anger that shot through him felt surprisingly good–it felt…justified, in some strange way, but as soon as it faded, he watched as his uniform started to bloat.

Part of the reason Miles had managed to get a work study job with the school in the first place was because he was one of the few incoming students who could pass the physical test required to be employed there. He’d always taken good care of his body, and one of the perks of working for the school was that he could use the athletic facilities for free, and he’d spent the last few years honing and perfecting his body, but as he watched, his six pack abs bloated outward, and then sagged down into a comical gut. He grabbed it by the sides, not quite able to believe it was attached to him, but he could feel it jiggle as he shook it, and then as he watched in the mirror, other parts of his body started to expand, and his gut only grew larger, the buttons of his shirt popping off, the zipper of his pants bursting open, the seat ripping out a second later. He just gawked at himself. He wasn’t just short–he was a blob. It only highlighted the fact that he was short, making him appear almost as wide as he was tall. “Oh…oh my god…what is happening. Please, Ed, you have to change me back, you have to, I can’t–”

“There’s nothing I can do for now, but don’t worry,” Ed said, “Just ride it out, and then we’ll talk.”

“You mean it’s not done?” Miles said, but as the words left his lips, he felt a strange itch spread all over his body, and the skin he could see started filling in with a copious amount of body hair, spreading in large whirls all over his belly, matching his dark hair, and he even felt it crawling up over his shoulders and down his back, making him shiver and itch for a few moments, before running his hands over it in surprise. Before he could even process it however, he noticed that the hairs weren’t staying dark for long–in fact, they all seemed to slowly be fading from black to grey, and then to white.

“No…No no no…” Miles said, and looked up at the mirror, watching his young face begin to crack and crease with thick, deep wrinkles, his cheeks sagging into jowls, A bushy white beard erupted across his face, crawling down his neck to meld with the white hair there, and his eyes turned grey and bloodshot, before blurring, making him squint to try and make out his image in the mirror. Thankfully, a moment later, a pair of half moon spectacles appeared, perched on his now bulbous nose, and he could make out his face again, not that he really wanted to. He looked almost as old as Ed, if not a bit older, and the clothes on his body started to shimmer and take on a life of their own, wrapping themselves up around him, contorting and twisting against his flabby body, reconstituting into a three piece suit, and if he hadn’t known it was him inside, he would have assumed he had become someone else entirely, and he just kind of gaped at his reflection for a few moments, trying desperately to understand how the short, fat old man looking back at him could possibly be himself.

“Hmm…are you done?” Ed said, walking up to him, “Weird, you usually get a tool…let me see…” the older man squatted down next to Miles, making him feel absurdly short, and Miles tried to back away from Ed as he gave him a strange pat down, and when Ed tested Mile’s new breast pocket on the inside of his suitcoat, he let out an “Aha!” and pulled out a full bent, very large pipe. “Here we are–your tool, sir.”

He extended the pipe to Miles, who looked at him, a bit terrified, but also curious. It looked small in his old mentor’s hands, a bit like a toy, but when he reached out and took it from him, he realized that was only because it was made for his own hands, with palms half the size of Ed’s. The pipe felt like it belonged there though, and he took a moment to examine it. The wood and the briar were almost impossibly black, and even though the surface was as smooth as the mirror, the wooden stem only gave of the slenderest reflection of light, indicating it’s roundness. The briar, in contrast, was very rough, almost like it would scrape off his skin if he rubbed it too hard. He’d admired it for a few moments, when he noticed a puff of smoke pop out of the bowl, and looking in it, he saw that somehow the pipe had filled and lit itself while he was holding it, and he looked up at Ed, wondering what he should do, but Ed didn’t seem interested in giving him direction. He looked at his reflection again, and figured he probably didn’t have much else to lose, stuck the stem of the pipe in his mouth and took what he’d intended to be a shallow draw, but as soon as he’d opened the airway to his lungs, the smoke shot through the stem of the pipe, burning its’ way down his throat and filling his lungs with high heat, making him wonder for a moment whether he was dying, but the heat was joining with something else, it was searching for something. He could feel it working out from his lungs, reaching for his heart, for that ball of hatred and resentment and anger he kept there for Dr. Taylor, for the man who had ruined his future, and the heat grasped it, and fertilized it, and Miles felt it suddenly burgen and blossom in him as righteous fury, the same anger he’d felt for that brief moment in his transformation, and it invigorated him.

He took a deeper draw off the pipe, feeling it settle deep within him and start changing him, but his heart this time–his spirit. It was warping him, but more than that, it was freeing him, freeing all of the cruelties he’d ever imagined, freeing all of the hate fueled fantasies of what he would do to that man, and using them. Beneath the fat, he could feel some of his musculature return, and even though he was short, he found his posture shifting into something more rigid and proud. His mouth curled up into a sneer, and then he felt the fear. What was he doing? What was he feeling? He shouldn’t be feeling this, he shouldn’t be wanting this to happen, this was wrong and immoral but he didn’t care, he did want it, he wanted it so bad, and he embraced it, he he pulled it deeper, feeling the anger flow down into his groin, the heat in his balls and cock unbearable for a moment, making him lean against the mirrored wall for support as he felt his cock grow and bulge in his pants, snaking it’s way down his leg, becoming a nine inch monstrous beast as thick as a pop can, his balls filling and churning with cum, bulging out the crotch of his pants beneath his gut, heavy and full of need and desire.

“Oh fuck…Oh fuck, I need to fuck something…” Miles growled, his voice gruff with smoke, and an octave deeper than moments before, “and I know just who I need to fuck, I think.” Miles grinned, he felt so free–it was like all of the burdens, all of the limitations on him had suddenly disappeared.

“Hold your horses, we need to talk for a second,” Ed said.

“There’s nothing to talk about, I have a date with the bastard down the hall.”

“You do, I know. But hear me out first,” Ed said, “Look, revenge is sweet and all that. But it does have a cost, as you can see. The spell I cast…the tool you have. It wants the spell to be completed, it wants you to take the revenge as much as you want it. But you can turn away. If you take your revenge, this is who you will be for the rest of your life. Think about that Miles–don’t throw away your youth on a whim. If revenge is what you want–if you’re willing to take this in exchange for it, then walk down that hall and take it. But if you can, I…just…think about it, alright?”

Miles had turned away already as Ed trailed off, shaking his head, and reached up for the handle awkwardly before flinging open the door and was marching down the hall. He wasn’t going to be denied this anymore. He wanted this. He wanted it so badly, he’d never realized how much he’d wanted it. He’d stayed on campus out of spite, he hadn’t seen it that way, but it was true. He’d wanted a chance like this, and now it was his, and then he passed the intersection which led out of the building and his stride faltered and he came to a stop, and he thought.

He looked down at himself, he felt the gut barely confined by the suit, the heavy arms and fatty thighs, looked at his small hands and wiggled the toes of his petite feet in his shoes. He felt the sensation of his hairy body, of his beard on his wrinkled hands. He felt the heat of the pipe, the tool urging him onward, to finish the spell, to take what he deserved and what he wanted. He looked up, and realized he would be looking up for the rest of his life, his life that was suddenly going to be much, much shorter in more ways than one, and he asked himself if this is what he really wanted. He could leave. He could turn away from all of this, and yet the power coursing through him, the desire and the drive, he’d never felt so alive! For the first time in years, it felt like he had direction, a goal, a purpose, a righteous purpose, something that was worth doing, and he realized that revenge was more than him, it was making sure that bastard never had a chance to ruin another student’s career. It was making sure that no injustice got away unpunished, and he renewed his stride, his short legs making quick strides down the hall, a cruel sneer curling his mouth, and he turned the handle on Dr. Taylor’s office door, and shoved the door so it slammed into the wall, making the professor jump at his computer, and he turned towards the sound, and saw the old, short man standing in his doorway, the pipe in his old mouth churning out a thick chimney of smoke, and the man said, “Dr. Taylor, I believe that you and I have some unfinished business.”

To be Concluded