Checking In

Commissioned by Calvinwolf

“Ah, you must be Jared–the airline called ahead, your reservation’s all set up,” the man said, as Jared approached the desk, exhausted, his duffel bag slung over one of his shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said, and watched the older man give his body a lecherous once over and he sighed in his head. Looking around at the paint chipped walls and mismatched furniture, the air smelling of stale smoke, he grimaced. This wasn’t exactly where he had expected to stay when the airline told him that his flight had been cancelled, but it was free, at the very least, and considering how many people were probably stuck staying on cots in the airport, in this storm, he might as well count himself lucky.

Still–the owner was obviously a fag–why were they always fags? Granted, Jared’s body attracted a lot of stares, at six foot three and 260 pounds of nearly all muscle, he was an impressive sight, though not impressive enough, apparently. He’d flown here to compete in a regional body building competition, hoping he could finally break into the pro circuit, but he’d placed fifth–netting him no prize money, and he hadn’t gotten a single offer from a sponsor to boot. The flight cancellation was just more crap piled on, especially since that meant he’d probably miss work the next day, and he wasn’t even sure he would be able to make rent this month. Still, he had a room for the night, and he took the key card from the man’s hand.

“You look hungry–would you like me to send something up from the diner to your room for you?” the man said.

“Yeah, I could eat something,” Jared said, “But nothing too fatty, if you can manage it–and heavy on the protein.”

“Of course–gotta keep your figure nice and trim right?” the owner said, and gave Jared a wink which wouldn’t have been creepy, if the man hadn’t also licked his lips while doing so. Feeling a shiver run down his spine, Jared left the lobby and climbed the stairs to his room, letting himself in, throwing his bag on the floor, and falling back on the bed. He was exhausted, and demoralized. That competition was supposed to have been his big break–but now what? Back to training, he supposed, but he just didn’t know what he was missing. Was he just not big enough? Were his poses lackluster? Did he need more definition? He got back up, pulled off his shirt and went into the bathroom, practicing some poses, looking for weak points, checking his symmetry, trying to find the flaws which were apparent to everyone else, but not to him.

The knock on the door surprised him, and he opened it up, finding a rolling tray in front of the door with a tray on it heaped with a collection of food he hadn’t been expecting. There was a pile of french fries, a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes swimming in gravy, two dinner rolls, and the only protein on the plate was a stack of heavily breaded, deep fried chicken. He rolled his eyes–he should have known that a diner like this would have no understanding of what kind of diet he needed to eat, and checking the hallway, he didn’t see the person who had delivered the tray, so he could send it back. Still…it did smell good. He could have the chicken at least, and skip the carbs.

He wheeled the cart in, his stomach growling, the scent of the food filling the room, making him drool a bit. In the back of his mind he thought something was strange, but a new hunger was overwhelming that caution, and he picked up a drumstick, messily devouring it in under a minute, before picking up another piece and slurping that down as well, dropping the clean bones onto the floor, forgotten. When he finished off the chicken, he was so hungry that without thinking about it, he hammered through the fries, potatoes and rolls without much thought, not even bothering to sit down during the entire meal, and when he finished it all, he let off a massive belch. He felt more stuffed than he could remember in recent memory, but he felt…good, and he slumped down onto the bed, relaxed and happy.

Really relaxed, actually, and he couldn’t help but smile as he lay back, just staring at the ceiling, his gut gurgling and growling…and expanding. Shiny with grease, his abs slowly lost their definition as Jared lay there, forming a slight paunch, his pecs softening up, thighs thickening slightly, but Jared was out of it. With one hand, he reached down into his shorts, feeling them tightening up as he grew, and started rubbing his cock, getting it slick with grease as he stroked himself. In his head, he tried to figure out what was going on. He felt so strange, and yet…why stop? It was almost like he was drunk, the room losing focus around him while the sensitivity of his body seemed to increase, warm…thick…and without really thinking about it, he unloaded into his shorts, a wet spot forming on the tight fabric, and Jared let out a soft moan.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, lolling about, lost in the pleasure of his earlier gluttony. What finally roused him and forced him upright wasn’t any sense of clarity–it was hunger. More hunger than he’d felt earlier, more hunger than he’d ever felt before. His body had finished processing his enormous meal, and was desperate for a refill. Still, Jared knew he shouldn’t eat more…right? No, that was ridiculous–he had training and competitions to think about…didn’t he? Still, he was having a hard time thinking about them now–the hunger was overwhelming him, his stomach cramping and heaving. He stayed in the room for a couple of minutes, hoping it was just gas, but no, he really was hungry again. He picked the bones from the floor a bit cleaner, but that barely sated him for another minute. Finally, he called the front desk.

“Front desk, how can I help you?” the voice on the line said, which Jared recognized as the same lecher who’d checked him in earlier.

“Hi, this is Jared in room 210. I was wondering if I could get another order of room service.”

The man hmmed and hahed for a moment, before answering, “Well, I’m sorry sir, but we close down for room service at ten. Still, the diner is open twenty four hours, so you’re welcome to come down and we can feed you there.”

“Oh…alright. I’ll do that then.”

“Very good. I’m excited to see how you’re coming along,” the man said, and then hung up, leaving Jared puzzling over his statement for a moment, before hanging up. After ten? He looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was half past ten–but he’d arrived at the inn and checked in at seven. How had he spent these last three hours–just eating and jacking off? Something stirred in him, and he walked into the bathroom, looking himself over. He could see that he was fatter, sure…but for some reason it was difficult to make himself worry about it. It felt good–he felt good. He found his shirt where he’d thrown it on the floor, and tugged it down as far as he could over his fatter, greasy frame, not even caring that it couldn’t cover his belly entirely, and was already soaking up the grease from his earlier meal. Letting off a mighty belch, he left his room and headed down the hallway, down the stairs and found his way to the diner connected to the lobby.

Even with the storm raging outside, the diner was quite busy, and Jared had the distinct feeling that he had been expected, because as soon as he entered, nearly every set of eyes in the room swung towards him, before returning to their usual spots. The clientele were exclusively men, and the help all seemed…rather chubby. The bartender was in his fifties, dressed in a flannel shirt, overalls and weighed in at close to five hundred pounds. The servers were all younger, but nearly as big. One of them came over and showed him to a booth, returning a moment later with a pint of dark lager.

“The owner sent this as an apology–on the house,” he said, gave Jared a wink, and then he was off again. Jared looked over towards the kitchen and saw that the same man who’d greeted him at the front desk was working the kitchen, gave Jared a wave, and then went back to work. Jared took a sip of the beer, finding in surprisingly dense and heavy, but also quite satisfying, and with more alcohol than he was expecting. Halfway through the glass, he was already feeling lightheaded and drunk, and when the server brought over a plate piled with fries and two double cheeseburgers, Jared didn’t even think before chowing down. Almost as fast as he could eat, more food was brought out, and he found himself in a race to keep up with the volume of food being thrown at him and his relentless hunger and thirst. He lost count of the beers after the sixth one, but he noticed his cock was rock hard in his pants and leaking, his gut growing steadily the whole evening.

He only realized something was wrong when he reached for a new basket of fried chicken and his hand felt only air. In the dim bar light, he saw that the table was a massacre of empty plates, but the rush of food had stopped, allowing him a second to lay back, breathe, and contemplate the excruciating fullness of his belly, though his hunger continued unabated. The server walked by and Jared grabbed at his shirt, “Hey, where’s my food? I’m still hungry,” Jared said.

“Sorry man, the kitchen closes down at two. We open again for breakfast in a few hours though. I’m sure the owner will find something to occupy you until then.”

“Hey! Piggy! Get over here, daddy’s thirsty,” a patron shouted, and the server let out a giggle, bringing the drink over, and as Jared watched, the older trucker pulled the chubby server onto his lap, lifting up the server’s tight shirt and giving his belly a rub. Jared almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but looking around, every server was similarly occupied. Even the older bartender was kissing someone across the bar, his shirt missing, the overalls unhooked, and his gut hefted up on the surface for other men to massage. However, a second need was making itself aware for Jared–he had to piss, and soon. He squeezed his way out of the booth and stood up, but the room was spinning, and he felt…so strange.

Before he could fall over, the cook and owner he’d spoken to earlier was there, helping him back into the booth. “Easy there, big boy,” he said, “You’re a little top heavy.”

“I gotta…I gotta piss…” Jared slurred a bit, and tried to get up, but the owner blocked him in, his hands running their way across his now obese frame, rubbing his nipples through his shirt, Jared moaning in pleasure.

“Goodness, doesn’t this shirt hurt? It’s way too small for you, and look at how filthy you’ve gotten it. Why don’t we go ahead and take it off?” Jared, unable to fight back, let the man yank away his tank, his gut bursting free, and looking down, Jared saw that it wasn’t just fat he’d gained, but hair. He’d always been fairly hairy, but he kept himself shaven for competitions, but this looked like he hadn’t shaven in months, not that he was objecting. The feel of the owner’s hands running over his hairy moobs and gut sent shivers to his cock, though he really did need to piss. He tried to protest once again, but the owner pushed him back down, “Relax, Jared, just relax. Everything will be alright if you just relax, and let go…”

The owner leaned in and started kissing Jared, and at first, the ex-bodybuilder thought he was cumming in his pants, but then the stench of piss hit his nose, and he realized he was pissing himself. The humiliation, far from clearing his head, only seemed to fuel his lust, and the domineering owner bore down, driving his tongue deep into Jared’s mouth, and nearly down his throat, twisting and pulling on Jared’s nipples.

His shorts had already turned cold by the time the owner came up for air, Jared now deep in the sway of the food and drink which had been foisted upon him. “Goodness, and now look at the mess you’ve made in my booth. You’re gonna have to clean that up, pig–now get up.” Jared did as the man said, and put up only a meager resistance, as the owner yanked off his shorts and tossed them away, leaving his naked in the middle of the bar, more and more men turning to watch the show progress. The owner bent Jared over, face towards the seat, and said, “Now lick that seat clean, and when you’re finished we’ll work on the floor.”

“No…No I ain’t…gonna drink my piss…” Jared slurred back, but when the owner shoved his head down, he obeyed, following the lecher’s orders, listening to the crowd jeering around them as the owner fondled and groped his frame, kneading his giant ass before slipping a spit lubed finger up his hole. Jared was so relaxed at this point that the sudden intrusion didn’t even hurt, but it did make his hard cock leak a little more, and he started fucking himself on it, moaning while he lapped up his piss, which didn’t taste as bad as he’d expected it to. When he was finished cleaning the seat, he moved down under the table on his own, finding a larger puddle there, the owner pulling his own hard cock out of his pants, and ramming it home after Jared was settled on all fours. Around them, a crowd of men had gathered to watch the new pig be broken in, many of them with their own cocks out, eager for their own turn.

In his head, Jared tried to resist what was going on, though his opposition was weak. The food–there must be something in the food and the beer which had done all of this to him, and even though he knew this was wrong, and that he should fight the owner off and get out of here, he simply…couldn’t. He just stay there, head shoved under the table, his gut still growing, licking the floor clean while some fat old man fucked him roughly, his own cock hard and leaking down his thighs. He shot his first load with a moan, not even touching his own cock, and the owner, amazed at how wonderful of progress his new pig had made in just a few hours, pumped harder, filling Jared’s ass with his seed.

“Alright, he’s all broken in boys–how about we take the pig back up to his room, and have a party?” the owner said, and the men cheered, dragging Jared out from under the table and dragging him through the inn, and up the stairs into his room, Jared lolling about, no longer able to resist. He blacked out as the men pushed him over the bed, and the rest of the night, thankfully, was spent in darkness.

***

He awoke slowly the next morning, a headache pounding in his temples, and let out a moan. Jared was still in the position he’d been left in, bent over the bed, face down, feet on the floor, ass towards the open door, his thighs tacky with cum. He ached all over. His throat hurt, and he stank, and he was exhausted, but he was alive, and awake. He shoved himself up with his hands, finding it much more difficult than he’d expected–he’d been growing again. Apparently his body had finished processing his second meal in the bar, along with his many beers, because any sign of his previous musculature was gone, replaced by soft, billowy fat. It felt strange, and he rolled over, sitting on the edge of the bed, letting out a sharp gasp as he felt something drive it’s way into his ass. Standing up, he reached around and pulled out a beer bottle someone had wedged in there, tossing it aside in disgust.

What had happened to him? His head felt a bit clearer than it had the night before, and he could recall the basics of his night, but none of the details–not that he really wanted to know. He needed to get out of there–he knew that for certain, and he needed to get out fast. However, he quickly noticed a problem–his bag was gone. Just gone. He was naked in a hotel room, with no clothing–what in the hell was he supposed to do? Well, first things first, he struggled up and shut the door, making sure it was locked, before returning to the bed, and sitting down on it. God, it reeked–he could smell piss, and cum, and sweat…his cock was getting hard–no, it couldn’t still be affecting him, could it? He got up and went into the bathroom, hoping a shower could clear his head a bit, but, unsurprisingly, the water had been shut off, and in the toilet…piss. The bowl was full of it, and he could smell it, and he was suddenly so thirsty…

He backed out of the bathroom as fast as he could, suddenly not feeling nearly as safe there as he’d imagined himself to be. He was so hot, and it was becoming hard to ignore how hard his cock was, and then, came the knock on the door. He turned towards it, and a moment later, he heard a voice shout, “Room Service!”

No, he couldn’t eat anything else, he just couldn’t. He looked over at the clock on the dresser–his delayed flight was scheduled to leave in the afternoon, and of he didn’t get out of here…he would miss it. The knock came again–obviously whoever was out there wasn’t going to go anywhere. His best bet would be to just push past them and run for it, naked as he was, at least he would be out of here. He went to the door and opened it–but as soon as he laid his eyes on the tray laden with food right outside his door, he started salivating, and his will left him. The cub who had served him the night before shoved him back into the room, and then wheeled in the cart. “The owner said you would probably be a bit resistant this morning, so he sent me up to make sure you ate everything all up, but I don’t think you’re going to put up much of a fight, do you?”

Jared whimpered a bit, trying to sort out his fear and all of his competing desires, his eyes welling up a bit, but the cub picked a piece of bacon up off the tray and held it up to the now obese bodybuilder’s mouth, watching him swallow it down, unable to help himself. They settled on the bed, Jared now willingly stuffing himself while the cub massaged his frame, encouraging him to let go, twisting his thick nipples, running his hands through his hairy body, and digging into his gunt, twiddling his rapidly shrinking cock, coaxing out several loads which he then spread onto waffles and pancakes, forcing Jared to eat his own seed, the cub occasionally pissing into a glass, giving it to Jared to wash down the food whenever he took too big of a mouthful, but he had Jared just piss himself where he was sitting on the bed. After an hour, the cub spotted the beer bottle where Jared had tossed it, and brought it over, driving it back into the fat man’s ass and watching Jared fuck himself on it, stuffing himself silly, now begging the cub to jack him off again, or give him another glass of piss, which the cub was now fetching from the toilet bowl, having run out of his own.

Hours later, the cart demolished, the cub wheeled it away, Jared laying back on the bed, stuffed to the throat, groaning, mind addled once more. He had to get up–he had to get out of here, right this very moment, or he’d never catch his flight–and then, he’d never be free. He struggled up, quelling the urge to vomit, and stumbled out of the room, using the wall for support as he stumbled naked down the stairs. The door, he could see the door, it was right there, but before he could take a step towards it, the owner came around the front desk and stopped him.

“Ah, Jared–on your way to catch your flight? I thought that meal would incapacitate you for a bit longer, but if you really want to be on your way, so be it. If you just step over here, we can settle your bill and you can be on your way.”

“My…My bill?” Jared said, finding it difficult to understand what the owner was talking about, and fighting the urge to just drop to his knees and suck the older man off, “I thought the airline was paying for it.”

“Well yes, they paid for a night, but there’s still the issue of your room service, and your bar tab to resolve. In fact,” the owner said, looking at his computer, “It looks like you owe an outstanding balance of eight hundred and seventy-six dollars and twenty-three cents. Will that be cash or card?”

Jared just gaped at him. “Eight…I don’t…I don’t have that much–much money,” he said, and realized he didn’t even have his wallet–hell, he was butt naked, standing in a hotel lobby, nearly out of his mind with lust and hunger.

“Oh really? Well that’s too bad,” the owner said, “I guess we’ll just have to get the money out of you some other way…” he said, stepping around the desk, something metallic glinting in his hand. Jared stepped back, but ran directly into both the bartender from the night before and the cub who’d stuffed him earlier, each man grabbing one of his arms–holding him in place. Jared struggled weakly, the owner getting down and giving Jared’s cock a few strokes, until he shot another load all over the carpet and went soft, allowing the owner to secure the chastity device around his cock, locking it closed with a padlock, and pocketing the key. “There, you’re hired! You’re working for me now. Don’t worry, you might pay off your debts someday, if you work really hard, and make me happy,” the owner said, leaning in, leering at Jared, whose face had paled, “Now, how about we show you where you’ll be working?”

Jared tried to fight back, but the three of them dragged him into the diner, and then into the bathroom, where Jared saw three spaces where the urinals should be, but where, instead, two men just as fat and filthy as he was were kneeling, collared and chained to the wall, the room reeking of piss. “We don’t have many positions open at the moment,” the owner said, “So you’re gonna start out working the bathrooms. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll absolutely love it in a few days–you won’t be able to imagine doing anything else.”

Jared tried to protest, but the owner shoved him down onto the ground in the third, empty spot and collared him before he could get back up. “You can’t do this–this is illegal. Someone is going to find out, someone will stop you.”

“Please, I’ve been running this business for too long to have to worry much. I’ve bought half the police force, and I pay the airlines to send…candidates like yourself to my inn whenever a flight is cancelled. Besides, if anyone starts snooping, well, let’s just say they develop quite the appetite. Now, let me explain how this works. These three are your coworkers. Now, I like competition–I think it brings out the best in people, so here’s how it works. Each of you has a tip jar,” the owner said, pointing to a steel cup bolted to the wall above each of their heads, “You get tips whenever you give one of your patrons service over and above their expectations–whatever that might be. Now, each week, whoever gets the most tips has the privilege of cumming once.”

“Fuck you, I’m not going to do this, I’m not.” Jared said, half to the owner, and half to his own growing desire, but then something he’d said caught up with him. “Wait, three? There’s…there’s only two here.”

“I’m getting to that. You see, I know that not everyone is motivated by positive reinforcement, so whoever gets the least tips…well…” the owner walked over and pushed open the door to the handicapped stall, and Jared gasped. There was another man, covered in filth, looking completely down trodden. “Whoever loses gets to be the toilet for a week–so if you don’t want to work the urinals, that’s fine–we can just unchain Mitch here and move you right in–”

“No!” Jared shouted, “No, please…I’ll…I’ll do it..” he said, hopeless.

“That’s a good piggy. Now, make sure you get lots of tips, and don’t forget that you’re still going to be racking up room and board charges–so you need about…hmm…two hundred bucks a night to break even. Good luck!” Laughing, the owner left the bathroom, the server and bartender following behind, leaving Jared with the other urinals. Still, the owner was right about one thing. Two nights later, Jared was happily cemented into his role, begging along with the other urinals for piss and cum from the nightly patrons, trying to wrack up as many tips as he could, his stomach churning a bit every time he saw a man go into the handicap stall. Still, that wasn’t going to be him, not if he could help it. And if he worked hard enough, who knows? He might actually be able to work his way out of here. Sure, no one had succeeded in checking out before, but there was always a first time for everything…right?

Matchmaker (Part 1)

My name is Josh, and I’m a matchmaker. Yes, I know that isn’t a typical job for a guy, even if he’s gay like I am, but the story is a strange one. To start, I have to go back a bit, to when I was seventeen. I grew up with my father (my mom died when I was a kid) and two brothers, one older and one younger. As the middle child, I was kind of the punching bag of the family, and to be honest, it was kind of relief when Jack, my oldest brother, outed me to my dad, and the three of them threw me out of the house.

Sure, it wasn’t easy. I was homeless for a while, but an older guy I hooked up with who worked in construction got me my first job as a grunt laborer, and before I knew it, I was on my feet again, and supporting myself. It was a relief, and to say I was proud of myself was an understatement. The story proper picks up a few years later, a few weeks before I turned twenty-five.

At the time, I had been renting a room from an older woman named Mary in the city. She was always nice to me, and I’d opened up about my history, and she’d really become a friend, more than anything, and the rent was amazingly cheap. I knew that it wasn’t enough to cover her expenses, but I had no idea what sort of job she had. All I knew was that there was a steady stream of women who would visit her–I often came home when they were in the middle of a pot of tea. I asked her once what she did, and she dodged the question–so I left it at that. I made up for the low rent by fixing up the house and helping with the chores, and Mary was always very thankful for it.

One night, she came into my room and woke me up suddenly, told me that she had made us a cup of tea, and she wanted to discuss something with me. I thought it was strange, but she insisted, so in the middle of the night, we sat down at the dining room table, and she told me everything. The women of her family, for as long back as she knew, had been matchmakers. However, more than simply having an intuition about who was suited for who, they had a particular knack for getting two people to come together as a happy couple–though she admitted that their method was a bit sinister.

Her clients, for the most part, were women who had been jilted by a lover, or who were in an abusive relationship. What Mary did, was force the man to become the woman’s ideal lover. Sure, it was a bit cruel, but they generally deserved it, Mary told me. However, she had a confession. She was the last of her line, and had had no children–so she had no one to pass her legacy on to, and she asked me…if I would be her legacy.

Crazy, right? I thought she had gone insane, but I agreed, because–well, what else was there to do? I thought that would be it, but she showed me the entire ritual, the rules of her matchmaking, and the powers it gave her over the two targets. I played along, and the next morning, it was like nothing had happened. However, two weeks later, Mary had passed away, from cancer she had told no one about, and I discovered that she had left everything, all of her possessions, her house, and her savings, to me. Of course, I thought her midnight tale was a joke still, however, a few days later, a young woman came to the door, begging for my help, and said Mary had told her before she’d died that I could help her. I had no idea what to do–how could I lie? So, I helped her. I did the ritual as Mary had shown me, using a picture of the woman’s boyfriend, and I didn’t believe it would actually work, but a couple days later, the woman came back, thanked me profusely, and handed me two hundred dollars cash.

Was it real? I had no idea, but I needed to see it work for myself if it was. I had been working with the same crew for a few years at that time, and gotten to know the crew members pretty well. Surprisingly enough, a good number were gay–though they weren’t exactly open about it. They were all decent men, trying to get by like I was. The one exception was our foreman, Rick. Perhaps this picture will best communicate his attitude.

He was a ass. Just a damn bastard to everyone, and a raging homophobe and racist to make matters worse. Mary had told me that her matchmaking abilities could work for any couple I chose, so I decided Rick would be having a change of heart about his sexuality, and maybe meet a nice man in the process, and I had just the man in mind.

But before I get to that, I should probably tell you a bit more about how my matchmaking works. In general, all I have to do is cast the spell, and things usually find a way to work out. This is what I did with the woman who came to me–just cast the spell and let it sort everything out for me. However, for more difficult cases, I can get more directly involved, and guide the spell from a closer distance. In particular, I gain some powers of suggestion over both targets–so that I can best help them come together happily, and realize how perfect they ought to be for each other. And the man I knew Rick would be best for was Juan.

Juan had been on the crew longer than I had, and I still don’t know how he could put up with Rick’s constant insults about being a wetback and so on. It’s a good thing Rick didn’t know Juan was gay, or he probably would have been fired faster than you could say fuck. Juan had never dated a man, preferring to stay in the closet and the backrooms of dirty bars, but he was a nice guy, so I thought it might be nice for him to have someone around. I got pictures of both of them–since I couldn’t have them at the ceremony personally, and cast the ritual in the morning before going to work, being sure to leave room in the spell where I could get involved. After all, I needed to see if this shit actually worked at all, or if I was just going insane.

I got to the site, and saw that everyone is getting ready for work, and I see Rick and Juan keep glancing at each other, though I doubt either one notices themselves doing it. Rick runs down the work for the day, and I make the mental suggestion that he, Juan and I should all work in the workshop today, while everyone else does work on the site, and wouldn’t you know it? It worked! I mean, it was still could have been coincidence, but hey, I was getting excited now. We broke from the meeting and the three of us headed into the workshop. As soon as I was alone, I decided to take a risk, and said that the two of them should spend the day working naked, aside from their tools, and that no one on the crew would find this odd.

It took a second or two, but I saw Rick suddenly pull of his vest, and this his shirt and pants and underwear before strapping his toolbelt around his waist and putting on his hardhat, and it was all I could do not to exclaim with laughter.

It had actually worked. I hurried over to where Juan was working, and sure enough, he had stripped down as well, smoking a cigarette, and I saw he liked wearing cock rings to work and keeping himself semi-hard all day.

I was so excited, I just paced the room for a minute or two, trying to calm down. I honestly hadn’t imagined it would work, and now I realized I needed to actually follow through with the spell and bring these two together, and I decided to start with Rick. As he worked, I started planting new thoughts in his head, about how attracted he was to hispanic men like Juan. It was hard work, getting him to accept it–after all, going from an aggressive straight man to a submissive bottom bitch for latin cock was a long distance to go–but he got there eventually, and I was glad I was there to shape the spell, or else it probably wouldn’t have worked nearly as well as it did. Slowly, Rick started stealing glances over at Juan’s semi-hard cock and licking his lips. All he could think about was how sexy his coworker was, and how much he wanted that cock shoved down his throat.

Satisfied, I moved over to Juan, and he was easier to work with. It turned out, as I peeked in his mind, that he already had a thing for Rick, even though he was an asshole. I enhanced his existing feelings but put a twist on them. One thing Juan happened to like was chubbier guys, so I went ahead and made him an aggressive encourager. Now, he loved making big guys bigger. He was also going to be verbally abusive and domineering, to match Rick’s subservient role, and as a bit of punishment for his years of being a good guy in the face of Rick’s past abuse.

I was so caught up in his head, that I didn’t notice him move at first, but he was walking over to Rick at the saw, and started rubbing his hands all over Rick’s fat body. “Hey white bitch,” he said, “I’ve seen you looking at my cock. You want me or something? Are you a fat faggot?”

Rick, caught completely off guard by his feelings and by Juan’s dominance, simply stuttered, but Juan shoved him down onto his knees and was face fucking his foreman, Rick just moaning and jacking his own cock, unable to help himself, and the insults and abuse Juan was raining down on him just made him harder. I felt him struggle against the spell, but with some more work on his mind he settled down into it, and I sealed it when Juan came down his throat. They were a couple now, and pretty soon everyone was going to know about it.

Not much work got done in the workshop that day–Juan was too busy giving his new boyfriend a good working over, and I was too busy jacking off while I watched. They also took a two hour lunch, so Juan could drag Rick to an all you can eat buffet and stuff him silly. The whispers flew around the rest of the crew, but the spell made everyone readily accept the new situation, but I could see a few of the men looking a bit jealous, or at least the three other guys who were gay like me and Juan. However, I had a plan for them. See, neither of my brothers, nor my father, were in relationships at the moment–and I had a feeling I had their perfect matches standing right in front of me.

Image Vignette: The Gainer’s Dilemma (Part 2)

Warning: This story contains situations of rape and non-consensual sex. Don’t like it, don’t read it.

“Look, we know something’s up. Just fucking spill it,” Jace said.

“Yeah,” Dave added, “this is way too weird. I mean, a new fatsuit without telling us? And how in the hell did you make that beard look so damn real?”

Tony stammered a bit, looking for some words that could get him out of this corner. Fucking Max and his bright ideas! When they’d heard their friends knock on the door, Max had told him to go put on his padding gear–the extra large clothes he wore with his fatsuits when the rest of the gang came over for their parties–and then told him to find some excuse to get them to leave so he and Max could split, but it was a pretty bad plan. When Tony finally answered the door, he was greeted by Jace and Dave who began the group with Max and Tony, as well as Trent and Phillip, two shy, bespectacled friends who had joined just recently and were still learning the ropes.

He told them about Max’s surprise visit, the magic salve, and about putting it on in the bathroom and how he had grown. When he finished, Jace just gaped at him, before saying a simple, “Bullshit.”

“No, It’s true! See?” Tony said, and took down his suspenders and pulled off his 4XL long sleeve shirt to reveal his massive, hairy gut, “It’s all real, I fucking swear. Max, get out here, and show them,” he called, and a bit angry at being found out, Max came around the corner, and all of their jaws dropped even lower.

“But…this can’t be true, can it? You’re just playing a prank or something. Is this some joke you play on new guys like us or something?” Trent said.

“No, it’s real,” Max said, strutting over, “and all of you need to leave. We don’t have time for this.”

The four looked at each other, and the twins turned to leave, but Dave and Jace grabbed them and pulled them back. “No, we want some too, all of us.”

“It’s all gone,” Max said.

“Now that is bullshit,” Jace said, “Cough it up, and let us have some, or we’ll bust your asses wide open,” Jace threatened, and Max and Tony looked at each other, knowing the jig was up.

“Alright, alright fine. But don’t use too much for christ’s sake,” Max said, “I can’t have the company relocate all of us.”

Dave and Jace high fived and hugged Max and Tony, while Trent and Phillip looked a bit incredulous. “Look, maybe…maybe your four have fun, but I’m not ready to make this permanent,” Phillip said, and stepped back to leave, and expected Trent to come with, but his friend didn’t budge. “Come on Trent, let’s go.”

Trent took a moment, and sighed, “No…No, I want this. I want some too.”

“You can’t be serious,” Phillip said.

“You can leave Phillip, but I want some,” Trent said, a bit louder than he’d meant to, and his face turned bright red.

“Look, take some or don’t I don’t care, but we don’t have all day,” Max said, “Who’s first?”

Jace went first, and stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later a hundred and fifty pounds heavier, and wearing the full beard he’d never managed to grow before. Dave was next, growing a similar amount, but without the beard. Finally, Trent and Phillip went in together, and both emerged not quite as heavy as the others, but equally satisfied with their new look and weight. In the meantime, Tony had talked Max down from his anger, and when he saw how happy Jace and Dave were, exploring each other’s new bodies on the couch, he decided that they might as well just throw caution to the wind and make it a party. Tony ordered ten pizzas for them all to gorge on, turned up the music, and they partied all night long, pausing for a moment while Max took a group photo.

The evening eventually wore down however, and the friends broke off into couples, Phillip and Trent leaving for home together, while Jace and Dave were too drunk to drive and ended up sleeping on the floor of the living room, perfectly warm in their new layers of fat and wrapped in each other’s arms. Tony had gotten plenty drunk, and Max dragged him into the living room after watching him strut about in his huge jeans and suspenders all evening, and fucked his chubby ass again, before promptly falling asleep, but Tony didn’t join him–he was thinking about the salve, and his still too small cock.

What harm could it really do? It wasn’t like he needed to use much, just a bit on his cock and balls, make himself a little bigger than Max so he wouldn’t feel like so much less of a man. He snuck out from under Max’s heavy arm and lumbered into the bathroom as quietly as he could. There was still about a third of the bottle left, and he scooped out a good sized glob into his hand and started rubbing it around his cock and balls…but then he thought, why stop there? Why not get even bigger than he already was? His drunk mind ran away with his fantasy, and before he could stop himself, he was spreading it all over his body again, feeling himself swell and grow all over again. His cock was a good foot long before he realized he’d better shower himself off, but he felt strange this time. He wasn’t sure if it was the beer or what, but he was hornier than he’d ever been before, and his head felt kind of fuzzy, like it was hard to think about anything other than how much he wanted to fuck Max’s ass. So intense was the need, that he didn’t bother rinsing all of the salve off, lumbered into the bedroom and without even bothering with lube, rammed the head of his now thirteen inch cock into Max’s ass, the bear waking up with a scream.

“What the…what the fuck is that! Fuck it hurts!” Max shouted, but Tony just pushed in more.

“Now ya know how it feels, ya fucker. Now who’s the big man here? I’m the big man, and I’m gonna have your big ass whenever I want it.” Tony said, the salve clinging to his dick letting him slide in deeper, and he saw Max’s ass start growing larger, which only added more logs to Tony’s flame. Max continued to struggle, but was pinned under Tony’s new, and still growing, weight, though he was terrified that Tony’s cock was going to rip apart his ass if he kept ramming it deeper like that. Luckily, Jace and Dave had woken to Max’s screams and hurried into the bedroom, where together they managed to haul the very heavy Tony off of him, letting him scramble up, his new pear shaped ass jiggling as he fled the room. “Ya fuckers!” Tony shouted, “I’ll fucking show you, I’ll rape your asses too, just you wait,” he said, and tried to get up from the bed, but his still expanding gut had grown out and over his knees, pinning his legs and rendering him immobile on the bed.

It was then that he realized he might have made a mistake. The salve remaining on him wasn’t going to stop growing him, and if he didn’t get in the shower soon, he wouldn’t be able to fit through the door. He struggled a bit, but he couldn’t move, and he looked over and saw Jace and Dave looking at him fearfully. “Well don’t just stand there,” he said, “Fucking help me!” but the two turned and left to go look for Max, leaving Tony alone in the bedroom, expanding faster than ever. He struggled more and more, but soon he was bigger than the doorframe, and then the bed gave a shudder and collapsed underneath his weight. By the time Jace and Dave had returned, having helped give Max an enema to wash the salve from his well used hole, Tony could already touch both walls of the room with his hands, his head was brushing the ceiling, and even though his gut had extended past his feet, his cock had snaked it’s way out and was leaking precum all over the carpet, and was almost at the wall across from him.

“I…I think we need to get out of here,” Jace said to Dave, and they turned and left, Tony calling after them, now begging for help, but he knew it was too late. He was going to outgrow the room, the entire house. He was going to suffocate in here, and be crushed to death. Already it was becoming cramped, and he started to hyperventilate. No, he thought, I’m not going like this. With his huge hands, he started pounding the drywall, feeling the amazing amount of strength there, and he ripped holes in the sheets, breaking apart studs with his bare hands, tearing through the ceiling to make room for his head, desperate to keep up with the increasingly quick rate of his growth. Max stumbled in at some point, having quit his sobs of terror when he heard–and felt–the house begin to quake. Upon seeing the huge mass of flesh which was now Tony, he fled the house too, and not a moment too soon, as Tony had ripped out enough supports that the roof started caving in around him.

The first thing Tony felt when he broke through the debris was wet. Rain, sweet rain. Excited to clean himself off, he brushed away as much as he could, feeling his growth slow as the water washed the remnants of the salve off his body. Looking down, he saw Max gaping at him from the sidewalk, his ass nearly twice as wide as his gut, staring at his two story tall boyfriend, and realized that if he stood up–if he could stand up, he would probably be twice that tall. With the salve washing away, Tony felt his mind return, and he felt horribly guilty for what he had done. Gingerly, he picked up Max like he weighed nothing, and said, “Max…Max I’m sorry, I dodn’t mean to, I’m sorry…” he said, sobbing giant tears, and Max hugged his huge chest.

“No, I’m sorry for this. This is all my fault. I should have kept things under control, and I should have told you everything to begin with.”

The two shared a very uneven kiss, given that Tony’s tongue was about as large as Max’s torso, but they were interrupted by sirens, and the arrival of the FBI and representatives from the drug company, there to try and disarm the situation.

“You don’t think they brought any breakfast do you?’ Tony said with a smile, and Max laughed. Some dilemmas it seemed, had ways of solving themselves. He looked over and saw that he was at the same level as the tip of a pine tree in Tony’s backyard…where he’d been a good ten feet below it a few minutes prior. With a gulp, he added to that thought, that sometimes, they can create entirely new dilemmas too.

Image Vignette: The Gainer’s Dilemma (Part 1)

(As requested by scot185f)

Tony stood in front of the mirror, and held up his camera phone, getting what he hoped would be his before shot of what would be an astounding transformation. See, Tony was what would be called a gainer. He wanted to be bigger, and especially fatter–well, and hairier, and just…he was just tired of being him. Smooth and mostly hairless, paunchy but not really fat. He’d tried recipes designed to pack on weight, solutions designed to thicken beards, but nothing had worked well, but then he’d run into Max.

Max had been like him, only worse. Scrawny and short, he’d always wanted to be bigger too. They’d met in a forum a few years ago, and once they’d learned that they lived in the same city, they had struck up a bit of a friendship, but both of them had miserably failed at encouraging the other to gain much more than fifty pounds. However, they found some solace in their own failures, and gathered a small group of others like them whose genetics and metabolisms thwarted them at every turn. Tony had even begun to suspect that something like a relationship was growing between them, when all of a sudden, Max was gone. He disappeared for more than a month, and just about the time Tony had gotten tired of leaving him voicemails, Max had shown up on his doorstep–only it was a very different Max who stepped through the door.

He was…big. Not just with a big gut, but tall too, a good foot taller to be exact. And damn if that gut didn’t look fine on his as well, and the hair! It was everywhere! Max had never been able to grow more than an ugly patchy beard, but the bear who strutted into Tony’s apartment had no such problem. Of course, Tony didn’t believe it could be Max, not at first. It was only after the bear had described some of their time together, and some of their secrets, that Tony began to believe, but that of course left a different question–how? How did this happen?

Tony could tell Max was reluctant to divulge his secret, but it finally came out after a few beers. He’d undergone a medical test for low testosterone, and the medication had worked better than he’d ever imagined. Hell, it had worked so well, he wasn’t going to be able to return to his old life–no one would recognize him. He was being relocated by the drug company, and he wasn’t even supposed to be discussing this with anyone from his past life. Still, he wanted to show someone, and Tony was the first person he’d thought of.

Tony was at first incredulous, and then, he felt a wave of jealousy wash over him. It wasn’t fair. Max had gotten more than he’d ever dreamed of, and he’d gotten nothing. Sensing the shift in his friend’s mood, Max pulled out a strange jar and handed it to Tony. “Now listen carefully. Apply this cream wherever you want to accelerate the growth. It takes a couple of minutes to start, but when it does–you have to be quick, and take a shower a few minutes before you reach your target look, alright? The water neutralizes the salve and washes it away, stopping the growth. You didn’t really think I was going to leave you all sad, did you?” Max said, and gleefully, Tony hugged him, loving the feel of his friend’s new gut against his own small belly.

“Should…should I do it now?” Tony asked.

“Of fucking course you should do it now! But I don’t want to watch. I want to be surprised,” Max said. “So get in there and let’s see it.”

And so here was. Taking a picture of himself, just to remember himself by, and hoping that this wasn’t just some scam. Maybe it wasn’t Max. Maybe it was just some guy who was tricking him into the bathroom so he could steal his stuff while he wasn’t watching–but that was ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as a salve that could make you grow like Max had grown. But what did he have to lose? He stripped down and started applying the cold cream, focusing on his belly and chest, but then slathering some on his face where he wanted a beard, getting some of it in his hair by accident. He stood there for a few moments, feeling silly more than anything else, when he felt the cream start heating up on his skin, the warmth sinking into him, and a moment later, he saw his gut begin swelling visibly.

He shouted with glee as he watched himself grow, grabbed more globs of the cream and started slathering it on his arms, thighs and ass, before fondling his burgeoning belly, feeling it fill with fat and start sinking down, into an apron hanging down over his groin. Hairs sprouted all over his smooth belly, at first just a thin treasure trail, but then filling in all over. His chest filled in as well, moobs growing full and fat, his nipples growing into thick sausages. His thighs and ass expanded as well, though were a bit slower since he applied it later, and he watched his chin darken with a beard and several chins filled in under his neck, his hair even growing longer from the accidental application. However, as he was playing with his new body, he realized that the growth was only speeding up–and he hurried to the shower, almost tripping over his feet at his new height–he was getting taller even–taller! He thought about just letting it continue, but decided against it, and turned on the faucet, dousing himself with cold water, and he grabbed the soap and started scrubbing down his now expansive form.

With some regret, he realized he’d forgotten to apply anywhere where it might really count. His cock and balls had remained the same size–a measly four inches, and with his new bulk they felt even smaller, but he could always apply it again, right? Just as Max had said, the growth stopped abruptly as the cream washed off his body, and he cleaned it from his face last, letting his beard grow a bit thicker. Satisfied, he stepped out of the shower, and realized he had nothing that would even remotely fit his new frame, and somewhat bashfully, he lumbered back into the living room where Max was waiting.

“It…It worked. I can’t believe it actually worked!” Tony said, but was silenced as Max plowed into him, kissing him roughly and fondling his love handles.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn sexy like that. This is how I always imagined you should be,” Max said, “I love you Tony. I love you so much!”

The sudden pronouncement caught Tony off guard, and a bit nervous, he broke away from Max and took a couple of steps back. “You…you love me? Is that why you did all of this?”

“Yes Tony, I wanted you to…to come with me. We can be big together man! It’ll be a whole new life!”

Tony gaped for a moment, and tears came to his eyes. He rushed forward and slammed into Max, his sheer weight enough to knock them both over and send them crashing to the carpet with a thunderous clud. “I love you too Max, thank you, thank you,” Tony said as he started stripping the bear out of his tank top and jeans, and found that Max had one more surprise he had buried for him. While Tony might have forgotten to apply the salve in all the right places–Max had not. His cock was a good ten inches long, and quite thick, his balls hanging low, with each the size of a tennis ball. Tony had been so distracted by Max’s new gut that he hadn’t even noticed his new package.

“You like that big cock, Tony? I made it especially for you, and that big, fat ass you always told me you wanted,” Max said, them roughly rolled them both over so he was on top of Tony, who was starting to notice that something was off. Max had never been this aggressive before. Whenever they had played, Tony had been the one on top–and he suddenly didn’t like where this was going. Then he was on his belly, and Max was running the huge cock up and down his crack, and then it was in his hole, and no amount of begging or pleading could make the big bear on him go any slower or gentler.

Certainly the salve had had an effect on Max’s stamina. He fucked Tony for a good half hour, who managed to enjoy most of it, once he’d gotten over the initial pain. In fact, the feeling of Max’s rough thrusts reverberating through his body was so sensual, it easily made up for the rest of it, but the personality change had startled him. Was this even the same Max he had known? The one he had started to develop feelings for? Max reached under and started fiddling with Tony’s cock, making him lose track of his concerns and lose himself in the sex. Max was close, and when he felt the bear’s huge cock begin spasming, he released as well, feeling his jizz shoot over his gut and drip down onto the floor. They remained coupled for a moment, and then Max eased himself off with a grunt and rolled over, where they laid together for a while in the afterglow, until Tony worked up the nerve to ask the question nagging him.

“So…Max. What are the side effects of this stuff? I mean, you said it was still being tested, right?”

“Uh…well, about ten percent of us experienced some personality change–usually increased aggression and libido. I…I fell in that category, but you probably noticed that,” he said, blushing a bit and realizing he might have been a little rough, “A small few had allergic reactions on their skin, some weren’t responsive to the treatment at all, and others, well…they just kept growing. Water didn’t stop it–it only slowed it down, and the risk of that one increases with every application, which is why we can only apply it once.”

“Once? But I wanted…well, I wanted to improve my own equipment a bit, if you know what I mean…” Tony said, “It isn’t fair that you have this huge tool and I don’t.”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t think of it. Besides, I was always the bottom for you. I think having the rolls flipped might be kind of nice,” Max said, rolling on top of Tony and pinning him to the ground, “You certainly didn’t seem to object much, after all.”

“Come on, one little bit can’t hurt. Let me get a couple inches out of it at least.”

“No,” Max said, the domineering tone slipping in without him even noticing, “It’s too dangerous, and that’s that,” he said.

Tony glared at him, but said nothing. He was starting to think he wasn’t liking this personality shift at all. However, their argument was halted by a knock at the door. “Oh…Oh fuck…” Tony said. He had completely forgotten.

“What? Who is it?” Max asked.

“It’s…well, the rest of the guys, they were going to come over for a padding session…I wasn’t expecting you–I forgot!”

“God fucking damn it!” Max shouted. He had counted on being able to spirit Tony away before anyone could know the wiser, but now the rest of the gaining group had arrived, and they certainly wouldn’t let Max and Tony get away without wanting to know their secret. Max scowled, and he realized that what he had imagined as a simple visit to help his lover was becoming quite the gainer’s dilemma.

End Part 1
To be concluded next Tuesday.

Image Vignette: Replacement Parts

“Alright, and here’s the guest room, where you can stay. It’s a bit…tight, I’ll admit. It used to me my…uh…friend’s workshop, so pardon the mess.” Marty said, and scratched the back of his head in slight embarrassment as Ryan looked around the room with some dismay. It certainly would have never passed inspection back in the Navy, but it would have to make do.

“This looks fine,” Ryan said, “I just hope you’re not expecting me to start right now,” he added with a smile. The rain outside was horrendous. Marty’s truck had gotten stuck in a patch of deep mud, and they’d both had to hike a half mile through the heavy rain to the farmhouse. Ryan’s clothes were soaked, and Marty had dropped his bag in a puddle, meaning he had nothing dry to wear. Marty had been just as soaked, but the short, stocky redneck had already taken a moment to change into a dirty white undershirt, cut off flannel vest and some jeans.

“Hah, nah, I wouldn’ make ya do that. Tomorrow mornin’ will be fine, if the weather clears,” Marty said, “You can just focus on getting settled this evening. Um…How about I go get these dryin’,” he said, referring to Ryan’s bag, “and ya can strip out a those. There’s probably some a Bill’s old work clothes in the closet there ya can wear fer the time being.”

Ryan heaved a bit of a sigh, and looked around at the cramped space again. Two tours of duty, and this is where he’s ended up. He remembered when he’d talked to a recruitment officer, who had sworn the military was the best track into college and a high paying job there was–instead, here he was, working on some rural farm as a mechanic and handyman to get by. Still, he at least had a roof over his head, his youth, and his health, if little else, though he would definitely catch a cold if he didn’t change out of these sopping clothes. He stripped down and rummaged through the closet, but all he could find in there were a pair of battered overalls, which from the musty smell, hadn’t been washed or worn in quite a while. Still, he didn’t have a whole lot of options, so he stripped down to just his jockstrap and ball cap and then slipped the overalls on, cringing a bit from the crusty material.

They were far too large for his frame, even if he had put on a bit of a belly since leaving the navy. Whoever Bill was, he hadn’t been a small guy. Ryan had asked Marty a few questions about Bill on the way over, but he’d been pretty cryptic and didn’t appear to want to talk about it much. Apparently they’d been friends for a while. Marty had taken care of the farm work, while Bill handled the broken down equipment, the housework and selling goods in town, until Bill had died of a heart attack a few months before. Marty was still pretty young, and couldn’t keep up both sides of the business himself, so he’d hired Ryan to help him out in exchange for a small salary, room and board.

“Hey Ryan! Dinner’s on the table!” Marty called out, and Ryan, hiking up the legs of the overalls a bit so he didn’t trip, made his way downstairs into the kitchen, where Marty was busy laying out a massive spread of food, including a roast chicken, a massive bowl of mashed potatoes and heaps of gravy, bread, stuffing, the works.

“Ryan took a seat and shook his head, “Hey man, you didn’t have to cook all of this for me. I tend to be a light eater.”

“Nonsense,” Marty said, “Ya need tah keep yer strength up if yer gonna get to all the work I need done around here. Now eat up while I get you something to drink. But hey, no hats at the table.”

Ryan cocked one eyebrow, but Marty was serious, so he took off his cap and set it aside, before taking a generous portion of everything so that he wouldn’t seem rude, and looked over at Marty mixing up something on the counter. “What are you making?” he asked.

“Huh…oh! Uh, nothing much. Just a little whisky drink–a toast to old friends and new beginnings, eh?” Marty said, bringing over two glasses and handing one to Ryan. They clinked glasses and knocked them back–and the taste was far stronger and bitter than Ryan had been expecting, but it went down all the same.

“Dang, what the hell was that?” Ryan said, sputtering a bit.

“Aw, not much. Just a bit of mah home brew. Ya like it? I can get ya some more.”

Ryan really didn’t want any more, but decided against refusing Marty’s hospitality. He dug into the food on his plate, and found he was hungrier than he’d thought. He found himself taking bigger and bigger bites of the delicious food, and by the time Marty had returned, he polished off half of what he’d put on.

“Here ya are man. What, that all yer havin’? Come on, eat up! It’ll help ya grow,” Marty said with a wink, shoved the glass into Ryan’s hand and started piling his plate high. Without really thinking, Ryan knocked the second drink back as well, and the taste was easier now that he was expecting it, and without a word, dug into the mound of chicken and potatoes on his plate. Marty sat across from him, eating a bit, but mostly watching Ryan and grinning, getting up on occasion to bring him another drink, which Ryan took without objection. By the the end, Ryan had finished off the spread aside from the small bit Marty had eaten, and he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his gut and let off a big belch. “Dang Marty, that was some good shit,” he slurred, “Couldn’ eat another bite.”

“Sorry, but I still have dessert fer us,” Marty said, and brought over a deep dish apple pie, “I know how much ya love mah apple pie after all,” he whispered in Ryan’s ear, who unable to help himself, he took a fork and dug in, not even bothering to slice it. “Let me go get ya another drink,” Marty added, bringing over the rest of the whisky bottle, letting Ryan take swigs from it between giant bites. Marty stood behind him and started running his hands up and down Ryan’s front, both under and over the overalls he was wearing, making Ryan increasingly uncomfortable, but he was also feeling a bit…turned on. He could feel his cock growing uncomfortable in his jockstrap, and he found himself wondering why he was wearing it. He didn’t usually wear underwear, did he? The room was spinning around him, and he tried to focus, but between Marty rubbing his exposed nipples and the delicious pie he had to finish, his thoughts just kept slipping away from his fingers.

When he finally finished, Ryan leaned back in his chair, more stuffed than he’d ever been in his whole life, and suddenly, Marty grabbed his cheeks and kissed him, making Ryan sputter and twist away. “What in tarnation–I ain’t no faggot, fucker!” Ryan said, unable to tell if he was slurring his words, or if his voice really had just come out as a deep, southern twang.

“Well I guess someone ain’t quite ready yet,” Marty said, grabbed Ryan by the arm and helped him up from the chair onto unsteady feet, “Why don’ we go have a sit fer a bit, and relax after that big meal–that sound good, Bill?”

“Mah name ain’t Bill–it’s Ryan…” Ryan muttered, as he stumbled along next to Marty. His body felt strange all of a sudden, like he was too tall, but also a bit front heavy. He passed by a mirror in the hallway, and through his vision was blurred, it didn’t look quite right. He hadn’t had a beard before, had he? Certainly not the bushy light brown one covering his cheeks and chin. And hadn’t these overalls fit badly when he’d put them on? Now though, they felt very comfortable, holding his big gut just right, and he hadn’t stepped on the pant legs once. Marty flopped him down on the couch, and Ryan tried to struggle up, but he felt so weak and heavy. His jockstrap was cutting into his waist, and he really did need to take it off. He’d feel so much better without it on…and yet, another voice was telling him to keep it on, and take off the overalls. But why would he take them off? They were his favorite clothes after all–he wore them pretty much every day. Besides, Marty loved how he looked in them. Then again, Marty loved how he looked in everything…

Marty came back a few moments later, holding a big, bent pipe in his hand. “Here, I know how much you love a good smoke after dinner.” He lit the pipe and then passed it to Ryan, who took a big draw, and let out a big plume of smoke with a sigh.

“Yeah Marty, that’s the ticket. Thanks…” Ryan said, “I…I love ya…Marty.”

“I love you too, Bill.”

“Marty…Marty what’s happenin’ tah me? Why do I feel so strange…” Ryan said, still puffing on the pipe as his eyes swept the room.

“Don’t worry Bill, everythin’ will be back tah normal soon enough,” Marty said, leaned in for another kiss, but Ryan pushed him away. “God damn it, what the fuck is wrong wit ya Bill?”

“I told ya, my name ain’t Bill, it’s Ryan, ‘n I ain’t a fag!” Ryan cried, and tried to sit up from the couch, but the jockstrap cut into him suddenly, like it was trying growing tighter, making him cry out in pain. It felt like it was searing into his skin suddenly, and Marty undid one of the straps off Ryan’s overalls, reached down and felt the offending material.

“So that’s the problem–someone didn’ strip down all the way!” Marty said, “I can fix that.” He ran to the kitchen and came back with some shears, but Ryan fought back against him weakly, so Marty grabbed Ryan’s nipples and twisted them, making his cry out in pleasure as he felt his cock swell. “Now listen here Ryan, ya’re just here tah be some god damn replacement parts, ya got it? I ain’t gonna spend another day without Bill, so yer just gonna have to give up, got it? Now smoke that pipe ‘n hold still!”

“No…No please…please don’,” Ryan said, as Marty cut away his underwear and pulled them out, but as soon as they were gone, Ryan let out a sigh of relief. Fuck he felt better–why had he wanted to keep that jock on so badly anyway? He looked over at Marty, and with his hand reached out and cupped Marty’s crotch, giving it a light squeeze. “Come here ya lug, ‘n give me some sugar…” he said, and Marty, grinning, leaned over and kissed Ryan, his beard growing in faster as they kissed, sharing the smoke from Bill’s old pipe. However, as they were kissing, Ryan felt his balls start to heat up, and soon they hurt enough for him to let out a moan of pain.

“Wh..what is it Bill? What’s wrong?”

“Mah fuckin’ balls, man–fuck! Feels like someone got ‘em caught in a vice!” Ryan fumbled with the fly on the overalls, opened it up, and hauled out his cock. It had grown thicker and longer, as well as growing a meaty foreskin over the head, but his balls hurt more by the second.

Marty however, was overjoyed. The potion was actually working–the witch had been right. Now all Bill had to do was cum, expelling the remnants of Ryan, and he’d have Bill, his redneck, the love of his life back, and they’d never be parted again. He got down on his knees and swallowed Ryan’s new tool to the hilt, making him scream in ecstacy. It only took a couple of good sucks before Ryan was cumming and spasming, releasing his lifesource into Marty’s mouth, who spit it on the floor, and then the body on the couch collapsed back, limply.

Bill? Buddy?” Marty said, shaking the big man’s shoulder, “Hey! Wake up!”

The man let out a groan and grabbed his head. “Fuck man…what the hell? What…what did ya do?”

“I brought ya back Bill…you’re home.” Marty said, and pulled him into a big hug, “I love ya so much, I ain’t never gonna let ya leave me like that ever again.”