Interactive: Three Word Difference (Part 7)

“Fuck it, I wish I was the big man on campus,” Timothy said. Is that what he’d wanted to say? He couldn’t quite recall, exactly, what he’d meant to come out of his mouth, but that seemed…right, mostly.

“Ah yes, that can certainly be arranged, Master,” the genie said, snapped his fingers, and Timothy felt something happening to his body. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but it also didn’t feel comfortable. It was his feet, at first–they were growing in his shoes, and it was getting uncomfortable in there, and then it really did start to hurt. He tried to undo the laces in time, but in a few moments, his feet ripped out through the sneakers entirely, and Timothy found himself face to face with his new size twenty feet, the tops covered in hair, and he just, gaped at them.

The sensation was rising higher, his legs beginning to throb and expand. Again, Timothy tried his very best to get out of his clothes, but he was growing too fast. He tore his way out of his jeans, his thighs now not only thicker, but longer as well, as he grew taller, in addition to larger in general. 

“Hold…hold on, could you slow this down or something?” Timothy said, trying to get out of his shirt, but it was too tight already to come off, and in frustration, he tore in down the front as his chest expanded into two meaty pecs, the genie just holding his usual cocky smile. “I said I wanted to be the big man on campus, but I didn’t really mean it literally!” 

“Oh I know Master, don’t worry, the physical changes are only part of the wish,” the genie said, and that didn’t exactly fill Timothy with confidence either. Thankfully, the changes were beginning to slow down somewhat, Timothy tearing off the rags of the clothes he’d been wearing moments before as he looked down at his new body. He was massive, easily six and a half feet tall, weighing in at over 300 pounds. Much of it was muscle, but he was…thick in other areas too, especially his gut, which was filling in last, along with plenty of body hair all over his chest, arms, and crotch. He looked over his gut and his eyes went wide–he was certainly the big man where it counted now! He gave his new, eleven inch cock a few strokes, and it hardened almost immediately, filling out to almost a foot long, thicker than a beer can–whoever he was with was going to have a hard time taking this monster, that was for sure.

“Look, this…this is too much, I don’t want to be a freak!” He turned to look at the genie, only to be captivated by the genie’s shimmering eyes, as the rest of the wish took hold of him. After all, a body like this would be wasted on a RA position–this was the body of a jock! Timothy’s mind began to drain, his studious nature replaced with a more athletic focus, his diligence replaced with a smug masculinity as well. The genie snapped his fingers again, and they weren’t standing in Timothy’s RA dorm room anymore–they were standing in Tim’s room at the nearby fraternity instead. Tim blinked a couple of times, looked around his room and grinned. “Fuck genie, this is fuckin’ crazy man! I’m a fuckin’ jock!”

He turned towards the mirror and gave a flex, admiring his new look, and already in love with it. “Fuckin’ amazing…” he said, picked up his still burning cigar, and took a long drag off of it, still working his cock. “Man, I wish my bros were big men like me! We’d be fuckin’ unstoppable on the field, man.”

The genie was already hard at work, warping Tim’s idle wish that he hadn’t really thought too hard about making. Still, the genie thought that Tim was in good shape, but he needed to start having some fun, or the genie was going to get a bit bored.

Sorry for the delay on this next chunk! Here’s your poll for the next wish. Patrons can find their bonus poll over here.

Interactive: The House Made Me Gay! (Part 5)

Dinner was good, but boring. In line with his new look, Taylor made a simple dinner–chicken breast, brown rice, a side of vegetables–high protein for his growing physique, but for Quinn…it just wasn’t quite enough, or what he was really feeling like. They chatted a bit, Quinn trying to ask about Taylor’s research, but not really getting anywhere with him. Taylor mostly wanted to talk about his workouts, and about how nice their landlord was, and how much he liked living here so far. He was sure that Quinn would feel the same way soon enough.

After dinner, Quinn ran to the store to get some food of his own, and to get a few things on Taylor’s list. Things would have gone fine, probably, if he hadn’t caught sight of his reflection in the doors of one of the freezer cases…and seen those same, shining eyes from the mirror in his bedroom. Quinn just stared at them for a moment, popping an erection right there in the grocery aisle, and then he went back out into the parking lot, grabbed a cart, and started filling it. Ice cream, chips, cookies, soda–things Quinn usually never bought all just sounded so good to him all of a sudden–and what was wrong with enjoying himself, really? It wasn’t like he was going to be able to mooch off Taylor, since he was on such a health kick. He checked out, loaded everything into his car, and then drove home. Taylor was in his room, presumably studying, and so Quinn was left to his own devices–he put the groceries away, and then tore into some chips, still ravenous after the meager dinner Taylor had made. He took the chips with him back to his room, planning on playing a computer game or something, but he never made it that far–his reflection caught his eyes, and he just sat in front of the mirror for the rest of the evening, only leaving his room to go down and get more food, and the rest of the time he spent jacking off, feeding load after load of cum to the mirror–before collapsing into bed, exhausted.

The next morning, Quinn woke up hungry–but before that, he needed to take care of something in the bathroom. After taking a piss, he looked at himself in the mirror–and he was certain something was off. His stubble seemed too thick for one thing. He usually only had to shave a couple of days a week, but it was coming in thick, and dark after just two. He thought about shaving it for a moment, but the eyes of his reflection sparkled for a moment, and he changed his mind. It looked…good, didn’t it? He admired himself in the mirror, the slight paunch that hadn’t been there a few days ago looked nice too…but it might look better if it was even bigger…

No, wait, why had he thought that? 

The eyes of his reflection sparkled a bit brighter now, and Quinn went a little blank, hauled out his cock, and started masturbating right there in the bathroom, looking at himself. He looked good. Hot, really. He liked masturbating to himself, liked admiring himself, wanted…yeah, wanted to get fatter, and hairier, and…

He didn’t cum–but he came back to himself at the edge, and pulled back. He could…cum in his room, but first he needed breakfast. He went down to the kitchen and stuffed himself, then went back up to his room, where much of his day was spent the same way–sitting there in front of the mirror, masturbating, and the changes continued.

A week later, Quinn was hardly the same young man who had moved into the house. The scrawny, five foot six inch fellow was now nearly six feet tall, and had packed on close to 100 pounds in just a few days. His once hairless skin was now covered with a thick layer of body hair, across his chest and shoulders, down his forearms–and across his sizable gut. He was also balding–enough to make him look a few years older at least. It had distressed him, when he’d first noticed it, but after some time in front of the mirror, admiring it, he realized it just made him look even more manly. He liked looking manly. He liked men.

That was a thought that had been occurring to him more and more lately. He liked men–and since the only man he was around regularly was Taylor, Quinn found himself liking him more and more. He would fantasize about how he had caught him masturbating after that workout, think about what he could have done if he’d been more of a man at the time, and not so scared. Then again, he was a man now, wasn’t he? He stroked his larger, seven inch cock…and started to wonder if there wasn’t a way he might get the two of them to do a little exploring together.

Alright, how are we going to bring these two together? You can choose two of the four options. The bonus patreon poll is over here–as always, patron votes count five times more than votes in the regular poll!

April Suggestion Box Open!

Hey everyone! It’s a new month, and that means there’s a brand new suggestion box open for all of my patrons at the $5 dollar level and up. Is there a story you’d like to see me write, a fetish you’d want me to focus on, or a kind of character that turns you on? Let me know! I can even take photo inspirations over on my discord channel, open for patrons only. Here’s one of the stories I wrote for patrons last month, inspired by one such photo–if this is something you’d like to get in on, sign up on my page over here at the $5 tier or higher!

Service Beast

It’s just a store, you try and tell yourself, but you’re still nervous all the same. The space is big–too big, and too bright and white. It’s unnatural. The smells are too clean or perhaps just non-existent, without the manure and grass you’ve become so used to lately. There are also too many people, and all of them are staring at you–some of them shake their head in disgust or shame, while others–the teenagers mostly–just point and laugh. You can understand why, of course. You’re huge, for one thing–nearly seven feet tall at this point, and almost five hundred pounds of fat and muscle hanging on your frame. The hair is the other thing–your entire chest, back and belly coated in a thick pelt of brown hair, all of it easily visible through the straps of your muddy overalls–the only clothes you wear anymore. You’re beard is tangled, your hair long and bleached a bit from the hours and hours spent out in the sun this summer. You’re only…22? 23? But you look like you’re at least forty, if not fifty now. This is the first time you’ve been inside a building other than the barn and stable in months, and even though the aisles are wide, you still feel much too confined–for the first time, you’d rather be back on the farm, in the fields doing your work, rather than…this place. A place you…swear you recognize, but finding all of those old memories is so difficult now. You suppose that’s why Master feels so confident bringing you here now.

The mobility cart he’s sitting in jolts forward, and the lead in his hand, connected to the collar around your fat, hairy neck, jerks you forward as well. “Keep up, you stupid lug–get two of those and put them in the cart.”

You look at the boxes he’s indicating, grab two, and set them in the basket in front of him, and then you continue onward–you fetching and carrying from the shelves, while Master barks orders at you in public, treating you like a slave and a idiot while everyone in town watches–and while you know the truth, but can’t say it. You can’t seem to say much of anything, anymore. You’re too afraid to speak, ever since you lost your words last week–or maybe it was the week before that. It seems like the only thing that comes out of your mouth are the grunts, loos, and squeals of the beasts to care for and sleep with back at the farm. Anything more than a simple sentence just dissolves–and the thought along with it, as soon as you start.

You hadn’t always looked like this–though you were having a harder and harder time remembering that, from day to day. You’d been young and slim and muscular–not this fat, hairy stupid beast of burden he had warped you into, starting the day you got on the farm, after taking the job offer you’d found on the internet, looking for some summer employment. Master liked to play the part of the crippled invalid, but you knew the truth–he was ancient, yes, but as a wizard, he didn’t need the cart, or even you, to get the farm work done. But centuries of power had warped him, and he’d grown bored. You were just another amusement, at the end of the day, for the old wizards perverse desires.

“Come on, you stupid thing–help me get to the bathroom. I have something I need to take care of.”

You gulp, and help him up as he feigns a limp, and help him into the restroom. This room feel even smaller than the rest of the store, with the too bright halogen lights, and the small stalls. Master goes into the handicapped stall, and tugs you in as well–to help him out.

“Get down, you fucking beast, fuck, watching you lumber around like some stupid fucking ape–you’re just an animal, you know that? You’re my fucking service animal–how does it make you feel, knowing that you’re just a simple pet now?”

He opened up the fly of his jeans, and you got down–you didn’t know if you were gonna have to suck or drink, but you knew something was coming. It was piss, first. He fired before you even had your mouth around the head of his cock, but you scrambled and recovered, only a bit of piss running down into your beard as you drank down his full bladder. Once he’d finished with that, he started fucking your face, telling you what a good service pig you were, doing such good work–that as long as you were useful, he’d keep you around for a while longer, before turning you into just another member of his livestock, and replacing you with some new fellow.

You sucked, hard, and were rewarded with a load of Master’s cum shot across your beard. You knew better than to try and clean it up–Master hated it when you showed any concern like that. He wanted you to be humiliated–and he wanted you to accept it. Your task finished, you up, Master put himself back together, but before you could make it out of the bathroom, you froze–it was coming, and out on the farm, who really cared?–but not…not here, you could stop it, you could control it…

You stumbled for the urinal, tugging on the lead, but it was too late. Piss was flooding the front of your overalls, running down your thick hairy legs, pooling in your boots and across the floor. You were just mooing in panic, like one of the bulls on the farm, horrified, but unable to stop yourself, and Master just…laughed. Laughed at your soaked overalls, and tugged you back out into the store, and kept shopping–expanding the list, just so he could make you wander around with your cold overalls, making sure everyone saw you, making sure everyone knew exactly what you were, what kind of beast you were.

At last, you left, loaded the groceries into the back of the truck, climbed into the back with them, and Master drove off, back towards the farm–back home. Back home, where a beast like you belonged.

Arctos: Mall – Part 4 [Interactive]

As the candy melted away and was absorbed into Jeremy’s ass, the first hidden layer of the sizable asslicker could be seen, but Saul wasn’t quite sure what it was at first. It wasn’t until he brushed it with a gloved hand, and saw the surface lift slightly, that he realized that what was covering the surface of the dildo was hair. Jeremy smacked his lips once or twice, and grimaced. “Why does it…taste a bit like dog hair all of a sudden?”

“Guess he never managed to work out that little kink,” Saul said, and pushed the dildo in deeper, watching the surface of Jeremy’s skin for the first telltale signs of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, after a couple of pumps, he could see the first little pinpricks of hair appearing down Jeremy’s back on either side of his spine, fanning out rather quickly as they grew. If he was sprouting this quickly, and this thickly, he was going to be quite the hairy beast in a few minutes, once this layer was finished.

“What…what the fucking hell,” Jeremy moaned, looking at his forearm, where hairs were sprouting as well.

“Don’t worry about it too much, Jeremy, it’s going to feel perfectly natural in a few minutes, I assure you.”

“I…where the fuck is all this fucking hair coming from? What the fuck is that thing doing to me?”

“Well, you see, buried in each of these asslickers are a few different layers–and while they do all come with a signature flavor, they also come with other benefits too.” Saul ran one gloved hand up and down Jeremy’s furry back, and watched him shudder in surprise. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being hairy enough that you can be petted like a big fat dog?”

The hair kept coming, growing in thickest on Jeremy’s back, forearms, chest–and his beard. That grew in the fastest of any of it, and after two minutes, it was already two or three inches long, hanging down to the display case he was bent over, while his hands kept exploring his skin, feeling all of the hair everywhere, and surprised at how horny he was feeling as he stroked it.

When that layer finally finished, the hair was so thick in places that the skin beneath was difficult to see. Saul, however, was looking at the asslicker, ready to see what the next layer would be. The hair kept peeling away, and he could see something…fleshy underneath, like muscle. It…disappointed him a bit, to be honest–he had done such a good job fattening his customer earlier, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped.

Jeremy felt his body start to heat up, and there was a new taste in his mouth. Sweat, almost, and metal. His breath was getting quicker, and he could taste…exertion, somehow. It felt like the inside of his mouth after running a mile back in high school gym. The fat on his body–some of it, at least–was disappearing and being converted into new muscle by his body. His apron shrank up into a full, heavy gut, but hardly disappeared, still looking like a firm, hairy ball jutting out from his body. His fat thighs lost their wobble, but were just as thick–just muscular now, so wide he had to adjust his stance somewhat to accommodate them. The same with his arms, the flab hanging off shifting into thick biceps and triceps, his neck filling out and absorbing one of his three chins, and his chest–he didn’t lose all of the fat there, either, but they grew flatter and firmer as the pectorals underneath developed into heavy slabs of muscle. What remained was a solid mix of both, a huge, powerlifter shaped beast, bent over the display case, still moaning in pleasure as the shorter, older chubby fellow kept hammering the now smaller dildo into his hole.

Saul sensed something happening, however. The dildo was becoming a bit…gelatinous, the red and steel colored layer giving way to something more cream colored. “It…tastes like milk, or cream…” Jeremy muttered, panting after the exhaustion of his body growing scores of pounds of muscle in just a few minutes.

Saul realized what it was, and shoved the dildo in deep, allowing the end to slide into Jeremy’s ass as well, the hole closing up behind it. Jeremy tried to stand up and say something, but his eyes went wide–he felt the asslicker pop inside his ass, releasing all of that built up cream into his guts. He groaned, feeling all of that liquid surge through him, flowing into his balls first, feeling his sack swell up, larger than a grapefruit, then larger than a small watermelon, firm and taut, full of milk. The rest of the cream surged upward, into his chest, and he could feel it…changing it, warping the tissue there, swelling his fatty pecs ever larger, losing some of their firmness, his nipples growing and swelling larger, until with a grunt, he felt cream burst forth, flowing down his hairy chest, his cock exploding all over the front of the display case, milk gouting from him as he moaned and mooed, the orgasm ripping through his entire body as waves of pleasure. He collapsed to the floor against the case, sitting in a puddle of his own milk, heaving for breath, Saul looming over him. The confectioner scooped up a bit of cream on his finger and tasted it.

“Fuck, it’s…delicious…” Saul muttered.

“Let…I have to get out of here, I…” Jeremy muttered, but before he could stand, Saul shoved another sucker into his mouth, the Dum Dum wrapper cast aside, and watched as the intelligence in Jeremy’s eyes drained away as he sucked, one hand tweaking his nipples, the other groping his still leaking cock–and Saul helped him up.

“Come on–tasting that…I think I’m going to need your help in the kitchen, buddy–you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being my helped back here?”

Jeremy…knew he should do something, think something…but thinking was hard, and once Saul had him hooked up to the milking machine–well, he didn’t think about much after that, or ever again, and Saul new line of cream filled truffles–well, they’re popular, even if they have a few…additional side effects.


“Hey, stop thief!”

Marvin just streaked past the burly clerk and sprinted down the concourse, the ring he’d just pilfered gripped in the palm of his hand. He doubted it was worth much, really, but he liked the thrill of the theft more than anything else, really. He hadn’t quite counted on the clerk being so sharp eyed, however, or on the guy giving chase. Still, he was a lot younger than the old man–he’d get away–probably. What happens with the thief next?

Alright, time to start another little vignette! We have a young shoplifter on the loose, who will probably need some sort of comeuppance for his crime, but he’s a wily fellow–let’s see what his next move is first. Here’s the bonus Patron poll as well!

A Hair Appointment

Flash commissions like this one are still open! Message me for details.

This was the place. Drew checked the address on his phone again, just to be sure, and then stepped up to the door and knocked on it, a bit timidly. It had been such a grueling process, getting here, and it was finally happening–he was here. The door opened after a moment, and…well, Drew was a bit surprised, if not a bit disappointed. From what he had heard about this guy, and what he could do, he was expecting someone a bit more, well, older maybe. The man in the door was young, probably in his early twenties, shirtless, wearing a pair of gym shorts–though he was…very hairy. His whole chest was coated in hair, which ran up his neck and nearly joined the thick, neatly trimmed beard around his face. From the hair on his shoulders, he was probably just a thickly furred on his back. “You must be Drew, right? I’m Tyler. You ready?”

Drew nodded, and stepped into the house, Tyler shutting the door behind them. There was a mirror across from the door in the entryway, and Drew hoped it would be the last time he would have to look at himself like this–his young, pudgy face, unable to grow a beard, not that he hadn’t tried for most of his life. With his blonde hair, it just looked like fuzz, and never grew into much of anything. The rest of his body was mostly smooth as well–and he hated it. He wanted what this man, Tyler, could give him, more than anything.

“Come on then, the other one is here, and waiting,” Tyler said, and climbed the stairs to the upper floor.

“The other one?” Drew asked. Tyler didn’t respond, and Drew followed him up the stairs, a bit confused.

Tyler led him into a bedroom, and there, sure enough, was…another man. Close to Drew’s age, probably, in his early thirties, wearing a business suit, and sporting a thin goatee around his mouth. He looked…nervous, about as nervous as Drew felt, and when they came in together, he looked…annoyed. “Well, shall we get started?” Tyler asked, and dropped his shorts. The hair was just as thick on his thighs and around his cock–it was big, easily seven inches long, and thick as a beer can.

“Hold on,” the man in the suit said, “Why are there two of us here? I didn’t agree to this.”

Tyler smiled, “Because I wanted you both here, of course. Why else?”

“I…No, no, this was a mistake, I need to–” the business fellow said, but Tyler stopped him.

“Now Mark, why don’t you just calm down a bit,” he said, and pushed him down to his knees, facing Tyler’s massive cock, “I’m afraid you can’t leave–either of you–until we’re finished here. But you don’t really want to leave, do you?” he asked, as he rubbed the head of his cock against Mark’s upper lip. Drew watched, astonished, as the hair there began to thicken into a thick, full mustache, hanging long over his lip, mismatched now with the thin goatee underneath. Mark felt it, moaned, and rubbed the rest of his face against Tyler’s cock, who allowed him to do it, hair growing everywhere it touched, a thick, five o’clock shadow growing all over his cheeks and face. Drew–he didn’t want to get left out, and so he got down there too, shoving his face in with Mark’s, fighting to get his face against Tyler’s cock, feeling his own cheeks tingle as the first hairs began to push out. After a couple of minutes, he looked over at a mirror, and saw that he already had a short beard all over his face–but it wasn’t the same blonde as his hair. It had darkened somewhat, and was almost red.

Obviously annoyed at having to share in the bounty, Mark pushed Drew away while he was distracted, and swallowed Tyler’s cock into his mouth. Drew tumbled backwards onto his ass, and while he was going to push his way back in–his jaw dropped at the sight of what was happening to Mark’s frame. He was…growing. His thin body was bulking up with muscle, and his neatly tailored suit wasn’t built for that kind of expansion. After half a minute, they all heard the first seam rip, and Mark just started sucking faster, feeling the hair growing all over his body now, even as his beard grew in even thicker, though the hair on his head was beginning to recede.

“You’d better get in here, if you want any of this,” Tyler said to Drew, snapping him out of his daze, “I wanted you here because…well, let’s just say I think the two of you will be a good pair, but you’re going to have to fight for it.”

So Drew did–he shoved the growing Mark out of the way, and swallowed the cock himself–and as soon as he did, he tasted the precum flowing down his throat, and his entire body started to heat up, as his fat began to melt away, and was replaced by muscle–lots of muscle, in fact, even more than Mark. He was growing taller too, he had to crouch slightly to keep sucking, before Mark shoved him away and got his mouth back around the cock. They kept fighting over him for a few minutes, each of them growing rather evenly, and they became more and more aggressive as they grew, tearing the clothes off themselves, and off each other, until they were both naked. The larger they got, the more they manhandled Tyler as well, Drew lifitng him up and throwing him onto the bed, swallowing his cock deep, until–iIn a sudden rage–Mark dragged Drew off him and threw him to the floor, determined to overwhelm him. The cock was his, the gift was his! That’s why he was here, so he could receive it, and him alone. What he hadn’t counted on, however, was that Drew had been growing slightly faster than him, and while he was caught off guard for a moment, he wrestled Mark off him, and in a couple of minutes had him pinned, face down and ass up, to the ground.

He felt…good doing that. He’d never been able to overpower anyone in his life, and it felt….so right, so right that he should be on top, that he should be in charge–so he took his much larger, much hairier cock and shoved it into Mark’s struggling ass, and as soon as he did, the hulk underneath him relaxed, moaned, and started humping back, eager to get more of Drew’s cock inside him.

“Here you go, buddy, drink up,” Tyler said, stepping beside him and pushing his cock to Drew’s lips. “You’ve earned it.”

Drew drank, and as he did now, he could feel other things changing, beyond just his body. His old life as a chubby loser was disappearing, and replaced by a new one–a life spent at the gym, constantly working out, constantly getting stronger, and larger–and helping other men do the same. He’d worked as a coach for years now, training young men to be strong like he was, and all the men he worked with…well, he had a bit of an effect on them, he liked to think. Now, though, he was in his sixties, but still going strong. His beard continued to grow throughout this, lengthening and darkening further, until it was a deep red brown–though the color didn’t stay. As he grew older, it became streaked with dark grey as well. His hair pulled back unitl it was cut into a flattop–and then came the final gush of cum from Tyler’s cock, and as Drew drank it down, feeling the man’s magic flow into him–it also flowed through him, and he came into Mark’s eager ass.

Looking down, he could feel him change as well–change into the man he wanted him to be. He’d been training his husband all his life–and it showed. Mark was just as large as Drew was, if not a bit larger. Through the hair, he could see a deep farmer’s tan forming all over him, from his years working out in the sun as a construction foreman. There, he was the big boss, ordering everyone else around, but once he got home, he knew that Drew was really in charge, and he did everything his husband said–happily, of course. After all, Drew wasn’t one to abuse his power over anyone–that’s why he’d earned it, after all.

Tyler only had a moment too look over his new creations, before they both turned on him, just as horny as ever, threw him on the bed–Mark taking his face and Drew his ass–and the two couple of muscle bears paid Tyler back for his gift, pounding at both ends until they both came again, all three of them collapsing into a sweaty, musky heap afterwards, rubbing each other’s thickly furred bodies, their pasts now…so far behind them they couldn’t even really recall ever being different. Then Tyler sent them on their way, and in hand, and looked over his list of applicants. Who next? He had appointments to fill, after all.

Acceleration (Part 3)

His heart was pounding in his ears, and he felt the muscles in his body begin to respond in the same way. It was his chest next, first one pec and then the second, both of them swelling to, what seemed to him at the moment, obscene proportions. It was enough to make him slightly top heavy, and he had to lean on the wall for support–and it didn’t help that his vision was swimming, and a deep ache was forming in his bones. Soon, the ache was stronger than the muscles expanding all over his body–like someone had rooted the bones of his feet to the floor, and someone else had him by the skull, dragging him up towards the ceiling and stretching him out. He couldn’t be sure, due to the fact that the room wouldn’t stop spinning, but it seemed…that he was getting taller. He lost his balance then, and tumbled to the floor, rolling about in discomfort as his body twisted and shifted around him. He was aware of other sensations beginning to form, but his senses were so overwhelmed, he barely recalled what he’d felt, by the time the pain began to recede, his heart began to slow, and he could finally focus on the room around him without feeling nauseous.

He didn’t think there was a single group of muscles that had gone unaffected–and now that everything had grown, there was just a lingering weakness, that made it hard to even roll over and push himself up. Still, more pressing was his clothes, which were far too tight on his changing body. He struggled out of the shirt first, as quickly as he could, and then shoved his jeans down to his ankles. As he stripped down to his his socks and underwear, he could feel something else happening in addition to the ache, a sensation of pins and needles, like when his arm or leg fell asleep, but it was appearing in the strangest of places. Like the muscle spasms, it started in the arm where the watch was strapped to him, and spread from there across his chest to his other arm, and down the center of his torso, to his groin. The sensation intensified, and looking at his arm on the ground, he saw small hairs pushing their way through his skin–a few at first, but then more following, until there was a soft layer covering up his forearm, across his chest, and sprouting around his cock and balls. Those, too, had started to tingle, and were almost…pulsing. Reaching down, he felt them through his briefs, his cock throbbing. At first he thought he was just getting hard, but then he realized his cock was…growing, as were his balls. He’d never had the largest endowment, but it was at least average. Hell, on his smaller frame, it actually looked sizable, but when he pulled down the front of his briefs, and the nine inch shaft flopped out–he could barely believe it. He managed to stand, as the last of the prickling sensation washed down his legs, and up onto his face. There was a sudden sharp pain in his neck, and when he let out a yelp of surprise, he found his voice had dropped an octave lower than before, and running a hand over his chin, he felt a thick stubble coating his cheeks, chin, and neck.

He stood there for a moment, shaking, waiting for something else to happen–but nothing else came. He was exhausted, but alive…and he staggered down the hall to the downstairs bathroom, flipped on the light, and just…stared at himself, shocked.

It was him, in the mirror. The same…basic face–like looking at a picture of yourself when you’re five–but it was like the watch had triggered the growth spurt he’d always hoped for–well, a growth spurt, and a bit more besides. Everything had seemed more extreme, when it was happening on his now smaller body, but the result was actually…normal. A bit manlier than some of his classmates, actually. His new height, if he had to guess, was a touch shy of six feet, and with his now muscular physique, he looked like a bull, or maybe one of the players on the football team. He wasn’t quite as big as Finn, by any means, but he doubted Jack would have a very easy time picking on him looking like this–feeling like this…

Fuck, what was he going to do? His parents were going to be home in a few hours, and he was going to look like a freak to them! He wouldn’t be going to school tomorrow–he’d probably be in some lab at a hospital, trying to figure out what, exactly, this thing had done to him. He looked at himself again, running his hand through the stubble across his face, and now that the pain was gone, what followed was euphoria. He felt strong. Looking at himself there, he didn’t feel the usual pang of humiliation and disgust. He just looked…right. He looked like someone he wanted to look like–like someone he could be attracted to.

There was a beep, suddenly around his wrist, and he looked at the watch, worried that something else was going to happen that would ruin this, but the screen was showing something familiar:

Re-calibration complete!

Admin not detected

Restricted use mode #013


The button on the side popped back out, and he stared at it, and then at himself in the mirror.

Acceleration (Part 2)

The worst part of it was, Russell knew Finn was sorry. He made a mistake–a big mistake–and it was probably tearing him up that there wasn’t anything he could do to fix it. But Russell just couldn’t find the space to forgive him, not yet. It had been so important, such a momentous thing for him, and it had been reduced to pillow talk by his best friend. That was what hurt the most–that Finn would never suffer anything for the mistake he made. The only thing Russell could do was never speak to him again, but how would that help either of them, really? But if he did try to reconcile, how could he possibly trust him with anything important again?

The rest of the day went by without further incident, and Russell ducked out of school as quickly as he could, before Jack could track him down and demand that blowjob from him. He didn’t know what he’d do about the bully tomorrow, but that was a concern for later–he just wanted to get home and put as much of this behind him as he could. Both of his parents were still at work, as was usual. They’d be gone until eight or so at their jobs, leaving Russell to fend for himself. He had a snack, and then went up to his room to play some computer games–but as he loaded up the game, he heard the doorbell. He didn’t usually answer the door when his parents were gone, but a few minutes later, the bell rang again–and then again. He went downstairs, planning on asking whoever it was to leave, but when he opened the door, all he found was an empty stoop, with a small cardboard box on the welcome mat.

Was it from Jack? He didn’t know where he lived, though–Russell had been careful to guard that knowledge from him, and the bully hadn’t seemed interested in pursuing him beyond school grounds. He picked it up and took it inside, opened it up, and inside he found a strange, watch-like contraption, and a folded up note. He read the paper, but it didn’t have any information regarding who had left the package outside, but it did make it clear that the odd device was intended for him. There were also instructions–put it on his wrist, and then, when the thing had finished “calibrating” (whatever that meant) he should press the button on the side–once.

He took the thing from the box and examined it, turning it over in his hands. It really did resemble a digital watch of some sort, but the face was blank–if it was supposed to be telling the time, it was clearly broken–hell, if it was supposed to be displaying anything at all, it was broken. Maybe it needed batteries? He flipped it over, but the case was seamless–there didn’t seem to be any way to get into it to change anything at all. Still, if it was broken, there wasn’t any harm in putting it on, right? He had to toy with the odd clasp for a moment, but he got it secured around his wrist–and then, without him doing anything, the band tightened around it–not uncomfortably so, but tight enough he couldn’t quite comfortably wedge a finger between band and skin. He looked at the screen, and sure enough, it had sprung to life as the band tightened, the word “calibrating…” flashing in the middle of the screen, as a thin black line slowly wound around the face. The circle completed in a moment, and the screen showed a series of screens:

Re-Calibration complete!

Admin not detected

Restricted use mode #013


The word ready remained, and a small button popped out on the side of watch–and Russell had no intention of pressing it. This thing was all too strange, and he still had no clue what it might even do to him, when he pressed it. He tugged at the strap, but it refused to loosen, and he couldn’t get the clasp to unhook, as tight as it was around him. He tried pulling and tugging for several minutes, and in his increasingly frantic struggles, his thumb slipped, hit the button on the side, and it slid back into the watch. At the same time, he felt a sharp sting on his wrist, directly beneath the face of the watch, like a series of small needles had slid into him and back into the watch nearly instantaneously. He shook his hand for a moment, and again tried to pry the watch from his body, but it refused to budge–and it was clear that whatever the thing had injected into him, it was having an effect–but what it was doing exactly was a mystery.

He noticed it in his arm first, the skin flushing, as small bumps appeared, looking almost like hives running up his slender arm. He felt his heart rate speed up, but whether it was caused by the injection, or whether it was just his own terror, he couldn’t be certain. The muscles in his forearm cramped suddenly, and then released–and when they did, they exploded–or at least, that’s what it felt like to Russell. It looked like it too–his forearm had nearly doubled in size, thick with muscle, and before he could feel it with his free hand, he felt his bicep–and then his tricep–do the same. Moments later, the arm with the watch on it looked almost comical–packed with muscle from wrist to shoulder, while his other arm was still thin, without any definition at all.