Yeah, it wasn’t…quite what I’d planned I suppose, when I said I wanted to help my dad get a date. I never really could figure out why mom decided to leave, exactly–I’d always gotten along great with him. I mean, sure, he had a bit of a temper at times, but mostly he just seemed, well, lonely. He never showed much interest in dating, and I was planning on leaving for college at the end of the summer–I wanted him to have someone he could rely on while I was away, you know?

The fortune teller at the fair…I don’t know why I told her all about us, all about my dad’s problems, and how worried I was about him. The old woman had just given me a smirk, and odd look, and said that the next morning my wish would be granted. I didn’t quite understand what she meant by that, but I went home a while later, and my dad was still up, watching TV. I was tired, but joined him for a beer, and then six beers, and then…

Well, then I woke up with my head pounding, and my dad’s arms wrapped around me, tight. And fuck, it felt good, you know? I pushed back into him, unable to help myself, his cock hardening and he slipped it inside me again, nibbling at my ear, like it was perfectly normal for him to be fucking his own son. I was more than a bit freaked out, but the damn fair had disappeared like it had never existed…and before too long, I started to understand why my mom had left my dad in the first place.

That temper of his? In the bedroom, he was in charge, whether I liked it or not. I mean, I did like it, surprisingly enough, and when he saw how…compliant I was with him, suddenly that domination was creeping into the rest of our relationship too. We fought about me going to college–he ripped up my acceptance forms, I tried to leave, he shoved me up against the wall and raped my ass in just the right damn way…and so I stayed. I can’t just leave my dad all alone after all, right? Besides, this hole of mine has turned into quite a money maker online, so I think everything worked out alright in the end, don’t you?

Drew looked from the mirror down to the underwear box. The underwear definitely didn’t look as good on him as it did on the model–and he felt that same rush of jealousy he always felt looking at crap like this. He wished he could be the model on the package instead of that guy–and then, something strange happened. 

Looking down at the package, the image was suddenly different. The muscle god was gone and replaced with, well, him. Not a new him, the same gruff bear he’d always been, showing off his hairy belly, tattooed arms akimbo, and he didn’t understand what he was seeing, but memories filled in. He’d been thrilled to hear that Calvin Klein wanted him as their new underwear model, but he hadn’t been surprised. He was the top menswear model in the world–why wouldn’t they want him?

He glanced around his ritzy penthouse apartment, seeing himself on the billboard across the street showing off the newest Fall men’s collection from Versace, all flannel, denim and leather, and smiled. It may not have the result he’d imagined, but now every man wanted to look like him–and he could live with that.

Evan had been a casual gamer–meaning he had a life outside of video games. Unfortunately, that meant that every game he played he lost. He hated it, and worst of all, he knew that the guys who creamed him day in and day out were just fat loser faggots who lived in their parents’ basements and did nothing but play games all day, but still, he wanted to beat them so badly, it wasn’t fair. 

Of course, he didn’t think it was very fair when he woke up one morning in his parents’ basement, two hundred pounds heavier with glasses and a neck beard to boot. But his orc warrior could obliterate nearly every player on his pvp server, and he’d somehow mastered every fps from Counterstrike to MW3 overnight, and he found it nearly impossible to not play games from dawn till far past dusk–at least when he wasn’t jacking off to his massive archive of gay porn. He’d become the guy he’d always hated–and yet he couldn’t help but enjoy every second of it.