Karim كريم

Ben, Tom, Jose, and David were already late to the FIFA Fan Fest. Not dangerously late. Not kickoff late. But late enough that the good standing spots near the big screen in the shade would be gone, late enough that the food trucks would have lines, late enough that four men who had once played together every Sunday morning for 15 years were already blaming each other like it was stoppage time.

“You said there’d be jerseys at the venue,” Tom said.

“I said there might be jerseys,” Jose answered.

David walked carefully, one hand near his lower back, his Portugal scarf hanging around his neck in the oppressive Atlanta summer. “You all had six months to buy these online.”

Ben looked down at his plain charcoal T-shirt stretched by his middle-aged dad-bod belly and frowned. “I wanted to try one on. I don’t trust sizing anymore.”

None of them laughed too hard at that. They were all old enough to understand.

Twenty years earlier, they had been the guys who stayed on the field for one more game, even when the sky went dark and the ball became a blur. Ben had been the wall at the back. Tom had been tidy and clever, never the fastest but always two passes ahead. Jose had played like the ball owed him obedience. David had been broad, mustached, impossible to move, and impossible to shut up.

Now Ben was bald and heavy through the middle. Tom’s blond hair had started retreating at both temples. Jose still looked the youngest, though he had begun noticing softness under his jaw in photos. David, the oldest at fifty, carried his old back injury like an extra piece of unwanted equipment.

But the World Cup had pulled something out of them. It always did. It gave them an excuse to hang out and to enjoy each other's company. An excuse to forget about their mortgages, their jobs, their expanding mid-sections and their nagging kids - if even for just a few weeks every four years. They needed jerseys. Not generic jerseys - their favorite players' jerseys. Ben wanted Croatia, Gvardiol across the back. Tom wanted Switzerland, Cömert. Jose wanted Mexico, Jiménez. David wanted Portugal, Neto.

The official booths lining Peacthree Street on the way to Fan Fest had nothing in their sizes. One vendor had kids’ shirts. Another had knockoffs with the names spelled wrong. A third tried to sell David a Ronaldo jersey and seemed personally offended when David said, “No, Neto.”

That was when Tom spotted the sign. Not a normal store sign. More like a temporary event placard tucked under a black awning between two downtown buildings:

MATCH FIT — PLAYER SHIRTS CUSTOMIZED ON YOU WHILE YOU WAIT

Below it, in smaller print:

TRY BEFORE YOU LEAVE. NO RETURNS AFTER KICKOFF.

“Customized on you while you wait,” Tom said. “That’s all we need.”

The place looked temporary, like it had been assembled that morning and might vanish by midnight. Inside were racks of national jerseys arranged by country, a counter with a heat press, and a hallway of six small fitting rooms made of black curtains and white partition walls.

No one stood at the counter. Instead, a tablet lit up when they approached.

SELECT PLAYER. SELECT FIT. ENTER BOOTH.

Jose grinned. “Atlanta has everything now - it is the Capital of the South, after all.” The rest of the men just rolled their eyes and grimaced at the Chamber of Commerce speech from Jose.

Ben tapped Croatia. Tom tapped Switzerland. Jose tapped Mexico. David tapped Portugal.

The tablet printed four receipts, each one with a booth number and a name already filled in.

BEN — GVARDIOL

TOM — CÖMERT

JOSE — JIMÉNEZ

DAVID — NETO

The tablet lit up again.

DON'T FORGET TO GRAB YOUR TEAM'S JERSEY FROM THE BIN - NAME CUSTOMIZATION WILL OCCUR AFTER YOU TRANSFORM.

“Creepy,” Tom said. "How did it know which players we wanted? And what does it mean by transform?"

“Who knows. At least it's efficient. It's probably some nerdy sports RP crap to build an experience.” Jose said. "We're running late, guys! Just grab your jersey and let's go!"

David took the Portugal shirt from the rack and held it against his stomach. “As long as they don't charge airport prices...”

They split into separate changing rooms. Ben pulled his curtain shut first.

The Croatia jersey looked too bright in his hands, almost aggressive under the fitting-room light. The standard red and white checker-board pattern. Clean seams. A shirt made for someone who expected contact, not someone who got winded carrying groceries upstairs.

Ben looked at himself in the mirror. Bald head. Light scruff. Heavy belly. The kind of body people called “solid” when they were being kind.

He lifted the jersey. "There's no way this is going to fit..." he thought to himself. Then for one strange second, the fabric seemed to pull toward him. He paused a moment then he put it on.

The first thing that changed was the fit. The shirt had been tight over his stomach, then less tight, then suddenly it sat against him as if the body underneath were being adjusted to meet it. His belly drew inward slowly. Not vanishing at once, but tightening, compressing, reshaping. His shoulders lifted and widened. His neck looked stronger.

Ben grabbed the edge of the bench. A dark prickle spread across his scalp. “No way,” he whispered.

Hair pushed through skin that had been smooth for years. At first it was only shadow, then short dark growth, then thick curls forming unevenly, damp-looking and messy. His scruff darkened along his jaw, gathering into a fuller beard. His face, still barely his face, began to pull into a new structure. The roundness tightened. The jaw sharpened. His nose and brow shifted by small degrees, enough that every breath made him look less like Ben and more like the man printed on the mental image he had carried into the booth.

His arms hardened inside the sleeves. His chest lifted. His posture changed without permission. By the time the transformation settled, Ben stood taller, younger, powerful in a way that felt quiet and dangerous. He touched the beard, then the curls, then the Croatia crest. He had become the spitting image of Joško Gvardiol.

"Whoa..." was all the came out of Ben's mouth.

On the other side of the wall, Tom made a sound that was not quite a laugh. Tom had expected the Swiss jersey to make him look respectable. He did not expect it to make him feel measured. That was the sensation: as if the red shirt had taken inventory and found him lacking in very specific places.

His blond hair with its thinning edges remained blond at first. His average middle-aged body remained average. He exhaled in relief, almost disappointed. Then the shirt tightened at his shoulders.

His torso firmed beneath it. The small softness at his waist retreated. His chest broadened. His arms gained definition like a photograph coming into focus. Tom stared down as the jersey changed from something he was wearing into something that belonged on him.

His face followed more slowly. His cheeks hollowed slightly. His jaw grew cleaner. Blond hair darkened at the roots and filled in at the temples, strand by strand, losing its faded middle-aged color until it became thick and dark. Stubble gathered across his cheeks and chin, first rough, then fuller, shaping itself into a dark beard.

His heart began to race as his body continued to shift. “Calm down,” he said, but the words came out in a voice that was already less familiar with a Swiss-German accent.

His eyes looked more intense. His brow strengthened. His features kept some trace of Tom for another few seconds, enough that he could recognize himself being overwritten. That was worse than disappearing all at once - he was being absorbed, enveloped, rewritten by the jersey.

After a few more seconds, he looked unrecognizable: younger, fitter, sharper, the Swiss red jersey lying smooth over a body that had no memory of stiff mornings.

Then curiosity beat fear. Tom lifted the hem of the shirt. His stomach was flat, then defined, then cut with muscle he had not seen since...well never. He stared at his abs, mouth open. The surprise on his face was pure, almost innocent as he finished his transformation into Eray Cömert.

From the next booth, Jose said, “Tom? You alive over there? Does the jersey not fit?”

Tom did not look away from his stomach. “I’m reviewing new information. Please hold...”

Jose laughed, "What is that accent, bud?" but his laugh caught halfway through. The Mexico jersey had felt warm when he pulled it on, as if it had been sitting in sunlight. Green fabric slid over his shoulders, and for a moment he simply admired it. Jose had always liked the way Mexico green looked on him. It made him feel connected to something bigger than himself: family, noise, food, history, every summer cookout where someone had screamed "GOOOOOL" at a television.

The first change made him smile. His shoulders squared. His chest tightened. His stomach flattened. Not dramatically, not yet, but enough that he stood straighter.

Then his face began to shift. Jose leaned forward in disbelief of what he was looking at. He lifted his hands to his jaw. The stubble there thickened, neatened, and spread into a trimmed dark beard. His cheekbones sharpened beneath his fingertips. His mouth shifted. His nose, brow, and eyes moved by subtle degrees toward a face he knew from match highlights. Then he saw the infamous scar from a head injury and surgery sketch across his head.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, that’s different.”

His hair styled itself shorter and cleaner, as if wind and sweat and stadium lights had shaped it. His average build became athletic, his arms filling the sleeves. He leaned forward even more, inspecting himself in the invisible idea of his reflection, trying to catch the exact second when Jose became someone else.

The strange thing was that he did not panic. Or not only panic. There was fear in it, yes — the impossible closeness of another man’s face forming over his own. But there was also a rush of recognition, like the shirt had found a version of him that he secretly wished for ever since he was a little boy playing pick-up at the neighbor's house down the street.

As the final changes washed over him, Jose stood in Mexico green with a body built for ninety minutes plus stoppage time and a face that now carried Raúl Jiménez’s sharp, calm confidence.

He tested a smirk. It fit too well. “Uh-oh,” he said softly, pleased despite himself.

David’s booth stayed quiet longest - if for no other reason because he had the most difficulty getting the jersey over his big round belly and sagging chest. He had sat down to put the Portugal jersey on because that was how he put on most things now: carefully, with respect for his lower back, with one hand braced and one foot angled just so.

He hated that the others knew this. He hated that they pretended not to. The jersey lay across his lap, red and green, lighter than it looked. David ran his thumb over the crest. His thick mustache twitched with a humorless smile.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s see if I can make this work...”

He pulled it over his head. At first, it hurt. Not pain exactly, but the memory of pain leaving. His back loosened so suddenly that he grabbed both sides of the bench. The tightness he had lived with for years unwound one muscle at a time. His spine straightened. His hips shifted. His shoulders rolled back.

David inhaled sharply. The belly under the Portugal jersey began to shrink. His chest lifted. His arms tightened. The heavy, careful way he carried himself broke apart and reassembled into balance.

Then came his new face. He touched it midway through the change, palm pressed to one cheek, fingers moving over crow’s feet that were softening under his skin. Laugh lines faded. His thick mustache thinned, shortened, and reshaped, darkening as it joined a trimmed beard along his jaw. Salt-and-pepper hair deepened toward black, thickening into tousled curls.

For the first time in years, he stood without calculating the movement first. The realization hit harder than the transformation. He was not bracing. Not protecting. Not negotiating with his body. He was simply standing.

The rest of him followed quickly now: stomach flattening, chest defining, thighs and arms rebuilding into young athletic strength. His face sharpened into the Neto look, youthful and alert, with just enough disbelief left in his eyes to prove David was still inside.

In the final moment, he lifted the Portugal jersey with both hands and looked down. Abs. Not theoretical abs. Not “under there somewhere” abs. Clear, ridiculous, undeniable abs.

David barked a laugh so loud it shook the curtain.

“This better not be temporary!”

The curtains opened one by one. They did not step out like friends leaving fitting rooms. They stepped out like a lineup reveal for an all-star squad.

Ben emerged first in Croatia checkers, dark curls and beard replacing the bald, heavyset man who had gone in. His expression was stunned but controlled, as if the new body had given him a defender’s composure before his brain caught up.

Tom came out next in Swiss red, still glancing down at himself and tugging the shirt like he expected the abs to vanish if he stopped monitoring them.

Jose pushed his curtain aside in Mexico green, smirking like he had just won an argument nobody else knew they were having.

David came last in Portugal red and green, walking easily. That was the thing that silenced them. Not the younger face. Not the body. The walk. No stiffness. No guarded step. No hand hovering near his back.

Ben stared. “Dave...is that you?”

David rolled his shoulders once, then twice. His eyes shone with something too bright to joke away.

“I know,” he said.

The tablet on the counter chimed. A new message appeared.

PLAYER FIT COMPLETE.

Below it:

FAN FEST ENTRY: 0.4 MILES. ARRIVE BEFORE ANTHEMS.

Tom looked at the door. Outside, downtown Atlanta roared. A chant rose from the street, echoing between buildings, as 48 countries layered into one sound.

Jose laughed. “We are going to cause a problem. People will recognize us!”

Ben looked down at the Croatia crest on his chest. “We should probably avoid cameras.”

David was already moving toward the exit. “Absolutely not.”

They stepped back into the heat. The city swallowed them in noise: drums, whistles, flags, traffic, the bass thump from the Fan Fest stage downtown. People turned as they passed. A group in Mexico jerseys stopped mid-chant when Jose/Jiménez walked by. Someone pointed at Ben/Gvardiol. Two Switzerland fans stared at Tom’s/Cömert's shirt, then at his face, then at each other in complete disbelief. David/Neto heard a Portuguese supporter shout something behind him and felt a grin spread across his new face.

For the first block they tried to walk like normal men. By the second block, they were jogging. By the third, they were running. Not because they were late anymore - but because they could again.

Alan turned and sneered at Mac who instead grinned with delight. Of course he would be happy, he'd have a nerd to do all the work thought Alan before turning back to his professor and coming close enough to whisper.

"Please sir, is that really necessary? I don't have time to babysit some odorous gorilla."

The professor just looked down at Alan with a small amount shock and frustration "Yes. It will be good for both of you." the professor said sternly and turned and left leaving Alan alone with Mac once again. "Odorous gorilla huh?" Mac said almost amused but with an undercurrent of anger. "I'll show you odorous"

Mac then proceed to grin like an idiot and bend over pushing his enormous muscular bubble butt directly towards Alan, the threading of his shorts ached as the massive muscle stretched it out to his limits. Alan had no time to react as Mac grunted and unleashed a booming, thunderous fart that blasted on for a strong 10 seconds before then bombarding Alan's senses with the concentrated scent of protein and ass.

Alan gagged as the smell assaulted him, the shock and disgust he felt soon turning to anger as Mac laughed at his own foul fart and Alan's pathetic reaction.

Alan was filled with rage as he pinched his nose which did nothing to get rid of the scent that now seem to stick to his nostrils and tongue. Alan's voice came out as almost a scream as the furiously little nerd dropped his books and pointed a the chuckling behemoth.

"You beast, you animal! You monsterous, smelly, dumb oaf! How the fuck did they let someone like you into college its a disgrace!" Alan said red in the face with fury.

However, Alan's fury quickly subsided as he looked at Mac who after being insulted was no longer laughing and instead now looked rather threatening and Alan realised he had just called a man twice his size a monster.

Mac then spoke into a loud commanding tone that instantly made Alan retreat into himself. "Monsterous? Dumb? Smelly? Is that all you think of me as? That's disappointing Alan, I was actually looking forward to working with you since we both got the highest grades on the last assignment." Alan almost whisper "Highest?

"Yeah I found out some really interesting things when researching words of power and how they have been used in history. For example I learnt this neat little phrase -" Mac then took an deep inhale before then with a deep resonating shout said "ym eciov sdnammoc ym eciov si hturt" Alan was confused by the jibberish and after standing in silence for a time finally asked "And what does that mean?" Mac then grinned an almost sinster smile "It means that you will take off your glasses and smash them on the floor, you don't need them anymore." Alan assumed it was just a threat, Mac's penance for Alan insulting him. Alan had no intention of smashing his glasses but then something odd happened, his hand moved without his consent and grabbed them from his face. Alan whimpered "Wait what's happening?!" confused as he dropped his glasses to the floor and raised his foot. "Stop! Why -crunch, smash, crunch"

Alan found himself violently stomping on his own glasses his body moving autonomously and without his control. When they were fully destroyed Alan found himself looking back up at Mac. He should have been blurry and hard to see but instead he was as clear as crystal, like he had never needed glasses in the first place.

Alan now more fearful look up at Mac's grinning handsome face and asked "How did you do that? Why did I just do that?" Mac smiled "Words have power and those words have an awful lot of it." Mac then paused and folded his arms which made him look even more imposing. "Those words, they help me to command the truth, which is why you no longer need your glasses and it is also why you no longer dress like a dork and instead dress like a gym obsessed frat bro who loves attention." Alan was still confused but then he felt a breeze on his legs and saw his trousers starting to shorten and his shoes turning bright yellow. Mac wasn't just commanding the truth, whatever he said became the truth! Alan looked down in horror as his modest button up shirt changed to yellow, its sleeves vanished and the fabric shrunk until only a ridiculously skimpy stringer tank remained. Alan's trousers became bright as they turned from boring grey to neon pink and then pulled themselves up past his knees up and to his thighs, leaving even more of his thin, pale, skinny body exposed to the world. Lastly were his shoes, the bright yellow covered them as they morphed into obscene sneakers that could be seen from a mile away. Alan could only look down in shock as Mac let out another chuckle at the skinny 100 pound nerd in the outfit of the most arrogant bodybuilder.

Mac grinned "You always dress like this even through the winter, you have to be noticed." Alan then felt something in his brain change, a slight fuzz spread across his memories and now whenever he thought back he was dressed in similiar attire, every class he was in a tank top, even in the snow he was rocking the short shorts and his closet at home would blind him with the neon colours. Alan then looked at Mac was pure fear in his eyes, he hadn't just change his appearence here and now, no... he had changed his entire past and his memories!

Alan turned to Mac and started begging "I'm sorry Mac! I am sorry I didn't want to work with you, I am sorry I called you names, I am sorry that I assumed you were just a an idiot jock! Please just change things back, please just let me go!" For a moment Mac's expression softened and for a second he considered letting Alan go and living the rest of his life in his new ridiculous outfits but then Alan's insults came back to him and his smile deepened. "Monsterous...dumb...smelly oaf. Very unkind words I have to say Alan...but words that describe you perfectly." "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" Alan screamed as suddenly his whole body felt like it was on fire as his muscles started to flex and itch and swell. Alan winced in pain as his bones started to lengthen and his height increased pushing him upwards. His arms and legs ached as muscle began to grow and expand, his thin torso widened as abs and pectorals began to form as Alan started on his journey to jockdom.

Alan was terrified as the heat inside him then seemed to double as every muscle in his body grew expontially larger and his entire frame grew wider and more unwieldy. Alan looked down and saw his chest grow two large, plump, round pectorals that jutted out like a shelf, each one then flexed and bounced involuntarily. Alan groaned as his torso quickly sported a six pack which very quickly turned into an eight pack as his whole torso soon looked like had had been sculpted from marble. Alan then saw his biceps balloon as thick veins came to surface of his muscles and his biceps grew to the size of cannonballs. While his legs and thighs thickened and soon rubbed together due to their sheer size. What's more behind Alan his once flat pale ass had grow into a shapely round, perfect peach that was hugged delicately by his tight workout shorts, showing it off to everyone who would walk by. Alan now had the body of a gym bunny but still the heat increased inside him.

With one more painful burst of heat and energy Alan felt every part of him grow as his legs, torso and arms all grew in size. Alan looked at Mac pleadingly as he grew to match the jock's eye line and then kept going higher until he was three inches taller than Mac. When the heat finally subsided Alan was taller, heavier and more muscular than Mac, he had to be at least 6'5 and over 280 pounds of pure muscle.

Alan cringed as he looked at his new massive physique and how much of it was now on display due to his tiny skimpy outfit. Alan wanted to keep pleading with Mac but the jock placed his hand on his shoulder and cut him off before he could speak.

Mac was almost giddy as he looked at the newest mounatin of muscle on campus "Now that's the monsterous part, now here comes the dumb part, but don't worry Alan I'll let you keep all those smarts they'll just be locked up inside that head along with your nerdy self and who you used to be." Alan was about to protest when suddenly the fuzz in his head returned and everything suddenly became harder to piece together. What was it that he wanted to say? Why was he so worried? Was there something that he wanted to stop? Didn't he use to think good? Was that the problem? Even a slight bit of drool started to form at the edge of Alan's mouth as all his knowledge of college, high school, elementary school and everything except the basics was sucked away to a tiny little part of his mind that his body no longer could access. Alan tried to get to it but it was like his mind was walking through thick mud and the more he tried to get to it the less he felt in control of his body and instead it seemed something else was taking control.

Mac grabbed his new creation by the shoulder smiling as he watched the twinkle in the eyes that use to be Alan become trapped at the back of his own mind. Mac then gave the walking wall of muscle a little shake "Hey bro you in there? Earth to Atlas my best bro are you in there or are you too busy thinking about the party tonight?" Alan no longer could do anything as the fuzz in his brain started to clear and when it did Alan no longer recognised the memories and thoughts. No longer was he studying in his room for hours on end, no he was partying and or going to the gym with Mac and his bro's. There was memories of him drinking and smoking weed, getting tattoos, banging babes and being the best mate to his bro Mac. Alan wanted to scream as his old life, all that education all of his smarts, all of his achievements were erased and replaced with some arrogant asshole gym bro who only cared about his appearence, partying and his best mate Mac.

Alan could only sob from inside his mind in the body of Atlas as tribal tatoos covered his arms, a gaudy gold chain and watch attached itself to his body, while diamond studs appeared in his ears, while his whole body took on an almost fake tan hue. Alan wanted to scream and cry, he wanted his body back but no matter what he did he was still stuck in the mud of his mind, the intelligence and knowledge, his past life all there but until able to take control of the dumb oaf he had become. Alan then felt his stomach rumble and his new body grinned at Mac. "And here comes the smelly part" Mac said already starting to laugh as Atlas turned around and pushed out his pink short clad bubble butt. Alan desperately wanted to protest and was thoroughly humiliated as he bent over and unleashing a droning, spluttering, foul smelling fart that left Alan sobbing for mercy as he smelt the stench he had now produced and would be forced to smell for the rest of his existence.

"Get a whiff of that bro! That could peel that fucking paint off the walls!" Atlas shouted incredibly proud of the stench he had made and making his best bro laugh. "You monsterous, smelly, dumb oaf! Get that ass away from me!" Mac laughed as he playfully pushed at his new bro's gaint gas producing ass. "Phew we better get out of this classroom before we stink it out!"

Mac then put his hand on Atlas's back and he returned the bro affection by putting his arm round Mac's shoulder. The two bro's laughing at the stench they had created as they left.

"So what are we doing now bro?" Atlas asked while casually flexing a bicep.

Unbeknownst to Jason the clover on the doll started to glow and one of the leaves disappeared. Jason thought he heard something about being fun from his daughter but, she had already run off to play and he was too concerned with his call to care. That was until he felt an off sensation coming from his shoes, it was as if they were vibrating. Jason quickly looked down and then across the room to check it wasn't an earthquake but everything else seemed normal, it was only his shoes and feet that felt strange.

Jason was about to bend down and check when Graham began speaking on the other side of the phone and both men started chatting. Jason was far too busy with his work to notice that his brown dress shoes has already started turning a mixture of neon yellow, pink and purple, his trousers has started to loosen and had began shrinking revealing the bottoms of his legs. His belt was thinning and began melding with the fabric of his trousers, which had now taken on a more vibrant pink hue. The blue in his shirt had already started to swirl around as more bright colours started to appear all over it until it looked like a ridiculous flamboyant pattern. The expensive watch on his wrist had turn blue and blocky, the metal changing to cheap plastic and the clock face turning digital. It was only when the buttons on his shirt began to tighten that Jason felt something was wrong. When he looked down he jumped in fright and dropped his phone, while the buttons on his shirt began to ping off and fly across the room. His shoes were now bright coloured high tops, his trousers were now pink short shorts, while his shirt had a garish pattern and was now three sizes too small revealing his pale chest and soft little belly. Leaving him in a young, bright, fun new outfit.

"What the hell is happening!" Jason shouted as he looked at the unfamiliar clothes and cheap digital watch. Jason had no idea how it was possible, had it been some kind of prank? Was he hallucinating? Had his daughter done this some how? Jason was about to shout up and ask when he heard a dull voice coming from his phone on the floor and once again his work became a priority, he would finish this call and then investigate what was going on. However, just as Jason was about to bend down to get his phone, his body suddenly became bursting with energy. Rippling waves of intense energy sent shock waves through every fibre of his being. Jason suddenly felt strange, giddy and he had the urge to run and jump. It was a feeling he hadn't felt for a long time not since he had grown older and grown his little chubby belly. Yet, as Jason thought about his belly he looked down to see it no longer was prominent and was that definition?

Jason couldn't believe his eyes as he watched his body ripple and change as more muscle started to appear over his body. What were once the beginnings of man boobs were now the beginnings of pectorals, his belly had gone and instead there was a six pack etching itself across his torso. His biceps expanded, while his thighs and calves packed on the muscle until he almost looked like a fitness model.

However, the growth didn't stop there. Jason watched in a mixture of surprise and pleasure as his pectorals rounded out and became large bouncy handfuls of muscle. His six pack quickly grew into an eight pack and looked impressively defined and sculpted, something that would have taken years to acquire, Jason had gotten in seconds. His thighs thickened and his butt became round and pert, his arms grew huge and strong making him look more masculine and strong. If the growth wasn't so unexplained and rapid Jason might have been thrilled with the transformation but it isn't normal to go from 40 pounds overweight to the body of a professional bodybuilder!

When the feeling inside Jason finally stopped he was now 240 pounds of pure muscle, his body was insanely shredded and toned and even his new ridiculous outfit didn't seem out of place on a body such as his. Jason took a few seconds to catch his breath, his phone had gone silent and he was left standing with a new outfit and a new body. Jason had no idea what to do, should he call for help? Did he need to call for help? He didn't feel unwell in fact he felt better than ever, he was still able to think and to move around but how was this all possible? Jason then heard music blasting from his daughter's room upstairs and then he looked down at the dolls on the floor, some of them were wearing similar clothes to him! His daughter had said something before she left maybe she could tell him what was happening. Jason then started heading to the stairs to confront his daughter.

However, upstairs his daughter was still playing with the doll and happily singing along to k-pop. She then looked at the doll and felt a little sad as she made another wish "I wish my daddy liked K-pop as much as me" The next leaf on the clover glowed and faded away.

Jason has only just got to the bottom of the stairs and he started to feel strange again and this time it was coming from his face.

Jason found himself bracing and gritting his teeth as his head began to hurt. Jason closed his eyes in pain as the hair on his head started to thicken, his receding hairline faded away. The wrinkles and lines on his face smoothed out as his skin became taut and supple. His teeth whitened, his body felt more energetic, for the first time in years he felt overcome with arousal and his shorts began to tent out. When he finally did open his eyes he gasped in shock as the face looking back at him was the one he was used to seeing in the mirror about 20 years ago.

Jason let out a small worried smile as he touched his restored youthful face, he had forgotten how handsome he used to be and looking down at his shorts, how horny he use to be in his early 20's. Jason was still panicked but it was getting harder for him to worry, the outfit was stupid but he now had the perfect body and he was once again young! Jason shook his head, this either had to be a dream or a hallucination, he could have an entirely different life now. He could escape the humdrum family life and stressful job. He could move abroad and party and fuck as much as he wanted, he wouldn't waste this opportunity. However, while Jason was already planning his new life away from his family, his face began to feel hot again.

Jason was confused as the pain returned, was he getting even younger looking? Jason had to close his eyes and hold his head as he once again started to change. His blonde hair darkened to deep black, it grew even thicker and straighter, while taking on a very glossy texture. His lips seemed to grow fuller and more pouty, while his complexion grew lighter and his skin turned plump, smooth and with a luminous glow. His eyes turned from blue to deep brown, while his eyelids changed shape to fit his new culture and nationality. When Jason did open his eyes he was still young but he was no longer looking at his face, or an American face. Instead he was staring back an incredibly handsome, pouty face of a Korean man.

Jason went to shout but it seems his vocal chords had changed just like his face because instead of English, Jason found himself shouting in Korean.

"맙소사! 무슨 일이야? 내 얼굴이 어디로 갔지!" (oh my god! What is happening? Where did my face go!?)

"나는 왜 영어를 못 하는 거지! 빨리 도움을 받아야 해!" (Why can't I speak English! I need to get help quick!"

Jason was about to turn to call for help but upstairs his daughter was playing and was still holding the doll.

She smiled, sang and danced but now she has started to organise her dolls, her daddy had bought her hundreds but he had never taken the time to learn anything about them or spend any time with her. She then held the special doll tightly and wished "I wish Daddy would play with me." While being hugged tightly the clover on the doll glowed once again and the third leaf disappeared.

Jason was about to run and get his phone when suddenly his legs seemed like iron weights. Jason looked down at them panicking, they felt stiff and hard, whenever he tried to move them they didn't respond. Jason quickly grabbed at his legs and was shocked at what he felt, instead of soft warm flesh, he felt something cold, hard and rigid. Jason almost screamed when he started seeing his skin turn to plastic in front of his very eyes.

"돕다!돕다!돕다!" (Help!") Jason screamed as he flailed his arms and torso around to try and move but soon they started to stiffen as well. Jason shouted as loud as he could but his daughter's music was just too loud for her to hear him. Jason could only watch frozen as his legs turned shiny and plastic, as well as his arms and torso. The perfect muscles now forever permanent in their plastic toy form. Jason whimpered in fear as he watched his joints crack and bend until they resembled that of an action figure. His hair was now one big clump of plastic on his head and soon the hardening reached his face. His mouth was forced into a smile while his frightened expression of his eyes became forever plastered across his face. The once handsome, Korean bodybuilder was now nothing but a giant life sized action figure, although not for long.

Jason felt his stomach twist and his head spin as his body started to rapidly shrink. The world around him becoming taller, larger and more imposing as he shrunk from 6 to 5 to 4 to 3 to 2 to 1 foot in height but still his body compacted and shrank. Soon Jason was measuring his height in inches as the stairs next to him became a mountain he could never climb and even the first step was as tall as a house to him now. At 5 inches tall Jason was now miniscule, plastic, Korean and completely helpless.

Jason was left in silence, the faint music coming from his daughter's room the only thing he could hear. Jason couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he couldn't do anything at all. He realised he wasn't breathing or blinking, yet he could still see, he could still hear and he could still smell as deep earthy stench suddenly tickled his nose. Jason then felt the large thudding vibrations of giant foot steps as deep nasally voice shouted out into the house.

"Mister Jason. Mister Jason I ave finished dumping the manure like you asked?"

Jason wanted to screamed as he watched his massive, obese gardener Miguel stomp into the house. He had to be the size of a skyscraper, his large fat gut wobbled as he took a step and his voice hurt Jason's ears as he shouted for him again. Jason was terrified he desperately wanted to call for help, to alert Miguel to what happened to him and to get someone to save him. Yet, all Jason could do was smile the same plastic smile even when Miguel's manure coated boot took a step closer towards him. The stench was horrendous, thick and foul. At his new height Jason could see in great detail they thick sloppy muck that clung to Miguel's boot, its odour causing Jason to gag internally even though he no longer had a stomach or throat.

Jason then watched as the other boot came even closer, Jason wanted to scream. He begged and prayes that Miguel would see him, that he would pick him up and save him but the gardener was not looking at the floor or for 5 inch Korean action figures and so with his next step Miguel planted his dirty, filthy boot directly onto Jason's tiny plastic body.

Jason screamed but felt no pain as the massive weight crushed him from above, pushing down onto his face and crushing him into the floor. His little plastic limbs twisted and bent into unnatural positions, changing depending on the force applied and no longer under Jason's control. The thick manure on the boot coating the tiny man and making him reek of horse shit. Miguel only pressed down for a moment before quickly realising he had stood on something hard, but that moment was enough to coat Jason in grime and crush his spirits. How was he ever going to become human again, so tiny, so unrecognisable and so helpless.

Jason wanted to weep as Miguel pinched his head and pulled him up from the floor covered in filth. Miguel quickly inspected what he had stood on and looked worried as he tried to rub off some of the manure and pose Jason back into into a more recognisable stance. Jason then heard a familiar voice from the staircase.

"Are you looking for my daddy? Hey what have you got there?"

Miguel looked up sheepishly "I am sorry little señorita, I think I stepped on one of your dolls." Miguel said holding out the palm of his hand.

Jason watched as his daughter walked over to him and he stared back at her giant face and that of Miguel's. This was his chance, if he was going to move or going to talk it had to be now. Jason tried with all of his might to move his plastic body, he tried to scream and shout, to cry for help, to tell them he was right here, that the smell of the manure on his new outfit was unbearable, to apologise to his daughter for never paying enough attention to her! He tried to say all those things but nothing emerged from his smiling mouth and his little plastic body remained posed how Miguel had moved it.

"It smells funny" The girl said while smiling at Miguel. Miguel chuckled "That I think you can blame on me, but look at his little face its almost as if he hates being stinky too!"

Both Miguel and the Jason's daughter chuckled as they looked at the filthy little action figure. Jason could do nothing but be humiliated as he was left looking up at his daughter pleadingly. She was his last hope, maybe deep down she would sense that her father was now this pathetic little action figure and find a way to turn him back to normal.

With an innocent grin she smiled and looked at Miguel "He isn't one of my dolls, mine don't smell that bad!" Laughing once again and crushing Jason's last hope of being saved.

Miguel let out another deep laugh as he looked at the funny expression on the weird little action figure "So what do you want me to do with him?"

The girl smiled and clutched her newest doll "I wish for you to have him, he seems to make you laugh!" "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" Jason screamed internally and with that last wish the final leaf of the clover glowed and disappeared the magic gone forever, while the memory of Jason the dad, businessman and husband was wiped from existence and instead was replaced by a funny little action figure owned by a fat gardener. For a moment everyone remained frozen until the new reality hit Miguel and Jason was left frozen and sobbing in his hands. "Thank you little señorita, I know exactly where to put him. It's another place very stinky so I know he will feel right at home." Jason was left screaming, sobbing and crying as his tiny plastic body was shoved into the back pocket of the gardener's tight large trousers. The musky, sweaty smell already burning Jason's nostrils.

Jason was left sobbing and broken as Miguel left his home, Jason could only watch as his life, his family, his future was all left behind as he pressed deeper into Miguel's fat ass cheek. His daughter waved to Miguel as he left but it was almost as if she was waving to her father and she closed the door and forgot about him completely. Jason was on the verge of a mental break down as he was jostled around along with Miguel's fat ass as he waddled back to his truck and climbed into it, slamming his ass down on the seat and crushing Jason. Now alone Miguel reached down in his messy truck and pulled out some old cheeseburgers.

"Can you believe that!? That weirdo's like that are allowed to parade around in public! There are children here!" Allen said his fist clenched as he made his voice loud and heard.

Felicity was taken aback and embarrassed as she hurried her boyfriend along so that his insults would not be heard. They had been dating for the last 5 months and not once had Allen shown any inkling of homophobia. Yet, as they walked Allen kept going on about how gross and lewd it was, how freakish the man was and that he should stay in his own area and away from the public. Allen continued to talk about how no man should ever have plastic surgery and it was perverted and weird for men to wear make up, his anger only intensifying. Felicity couldn't believe what she was hearing, she felt cheated, she felt dirty, this was not the man she thought she was dating! Allen was only getting more irate and was on the verge of shouting, his language only seemed to be getting more vulgar and offensive, when Felicity interrupted him finally ending his rant.

"Babe stop! I need to head to the salon and I think you should come with me." Felicity said while taking Allen's hand and leading him down a quieter street.

"The salon? But I thought you just got your nails done?" Allen said in confusion.

"Yeah I know, but suddenly I just feel really ugly" Felicity said stopping and looking at the man she had just spent 5 months of her life with who had turned out to be some bigoted asshole. "I think you should get something done while you wait, I think it will help you relax and maybe change your mind about a few things."

"I ain't getting my nails done!"

"No silly, they have something special for guys like you. C'mon it's just a couple more streets this way." Felicity said as she pulled at Allen's hand.

A few minutes later Allen was pulled to a very luxurious boutique salon called 'Pink and Pretty!'. Allen felt awkward as Felicity left him in the entrance way while she went and spoke to some women at the back. They smiled and then looked at Allen who gave a quick wave which they did not reciprocate. The women then led Felicity to a room at the back while one came over to Allen.

"Felicity has told us everything we need to know and has booked you in for an ultra pink renewal. Just wait here and someone will be with you shortly." The woman then quickly headed towards the backroom.

"Hey wait what's an ultra pink renewal?" Allen yelled but the woman had already disappeared, leaving Allen standing alone in the salon.

Allen once again found himself grimacing as he looked at the feminine decor, the flowers and pink, as well as the pictures of clients, many of which were gay men. Why would Felicity bring him here? Allen was about to wait outside when the lights started to flicker and the room seemed to darken and then flash to a pinkish hue. Allen then jumped in fright as a loud girly voice echoed throughout the salon squealing with delight.

"A new customer! How nice it is to meet you sweetie, Felicity has told me all about you! Aren't you a stud!"

Allen looked around but could not see the source of the voice, it didn't sound like it was coming from a speaker and it didn't sound electronic but Allen could not work out the source.

"Oh up here handsome." the voice giggled

Allen then looked up and froze in fear as two pink glowing hands danced above his head before slowly lowering themselves in front of him. Each hand was delicate, perfectly manicured and completely ethereal like some sort of pink ghost. Allen wanted to dismiss it as some sort of trick or projection but the way they moved was just far too real and life like. Allen immediately went to run for the door but the hands quickly floated in front of him, unlike a ghost when Allen ran he didn't pass through the hands but instead it was like he had hit a brick wall. Allen was pushed to the floor, Allen looked up to see one hand with its pink finger wagging.

"Nuh-uh handsome, where do you think you're going?"

Allen quickly scrambled to his feet and stared at the sentient hands in fear.

Allen tried to run once again but this time the hands were ready as they dived at his feet and grabbed each one. The hands then pulled Allen's feet downwards, rooting each one to the ground and no matter how much he tried to pull on them, they remained stuck in place. The hands then quickly reappeared in front of Allen and wagged their fingers again.

"Oh you naughty boy! Felicity has ordered the ultra pink renewal package for you and you aren't going anywhere until I have finished making you over!" The voice then laughed and the lights flickered.

"Please this has to be some sort of mistake, what is this?" Allen shouted while still trying to pull his feet off the floor.

"No mistake honey, it seems your girlfriend felt you needed a bit of a revamp. Shall we get started?"

"What!? NO! FELICITY HELP!!" Allen screamed as the pink hands moved closer to him.

"Oh such a big man with such a big manly voice! That certainly won't do!" The pink hands then moved to his head and became to massage it.

Allen began to freak out even more as he felt the hands touching his hair and scalp, the massage would have actually felt nice if it wasn't for the fact he was rooted to the ground and the hands doing the massaging were ghostly and pink! "FELICITY HELP ME! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! GET OFF OF MEeEEeeEeeE!" Allen then reached for his throat as his normally masculine deep voice suddenly cracked and whined as he spoke. Allen tried to cough as his throat suddenly started to feel strange. "WhAt ARe YoU DoInG tO meeeeee!" As Allen screamed his question his deep voiced continued to break and sound higher as it no longer sounded demanding, angry and dominant but instead it just started to sound whiny.

Allen's panic only intensified as the hands on his head still massaging started to apply more and more pressure. Eventually it started to feel like Allen was balancing a tonne of bricks on his head as the hands continued to pushed down until suddenly Allen point of view dropped. It was as if Allen had just tripped over but he was standing completely still, it seemed impossible but as the hands pushed the sudden shift happened again and Allen's mind spun. Allen looked around desperately for answers about what was happening to him and as he did he noticed that something was off. The counters and chairs looked bigger and closer to him, the mirrors that circled him looked larger. Allen then felt the drop again and quickly looked at his reflection and let out a deafening yell. "AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaahhhhh" Allen's yell turning to a high pitched squeal as he looked at his much shorter reflection. Before he had stood at a confident 6'3 but now he looked like his short friends he bullied at only 5'9 and still the hands were pushing and massaging!

"WHat is happening to me! Make it stop please!" Allen started to shout but as his point of view suddenly dropped another couple of inches his voiced grew in pitch. "My voice, my body! What have to done to me! Change it back!" Allen screeched as his voice remained girly, high and sweet, making his demands sound trivial and far from the bellowing shout he intended it to be. Allen's mind raced as he looked to his reflection and saw he was now only around 5'5 in height and this had drastically changed his body. While he was physically shorter he still had retained his weight and muscle, meaning that it has was now more condensed and compact making him look comically wider. The small fireplug of a man was freaking out as he desperately tried to move and get away from the hands pressing on his head but nothing he did seemed to stop them pushing as once again his point of view fell again. Allen whined and screeched for help as now he was barely looking over the salon chairs as he fell to a cute little 5'1 becoming petite and cute, his voice high and pathetic to match his new smaller stature.

Finally the hands on his head floated off his scalp and the pressure finally stopped and left Allen reeling at his new height and squashed muscular body. "What the fuck have you done to me? Change it back this instant!" Allen screamed, it was intended as threatening and furious but instead it just came across as a school girl having a tantrum.

"Oh honey that voice is cute but do you know what isn't? All that ugly muscle! It makes you look fat sweetie! But don't worry I can fix that!" The voice said with glee as the pink hands that grabbed onto Allen's arms and started to squeeze.

"No please not my muscles! Let go of me pleassseeeee!" Allen cried in his femme voice as he started to feel weaker. It started where the arms were grabbing as his biceps began to rapidly shrink, each one deflating until the massive cannon balls became barely visible lumps. Allen screamed as he watched the decades of hard work at the gym all disappear in seconds as his muscles mass dwindled away. Next his back and shoulders seemed to cave in as the lats that once made him broad and imposing shrank away, this was quickly followed by his chest as his was prominent pectorals sunk back into his small, weaker torso until only his perky nipples peeked through his shirt. Allen felt tears pricking his eyes as he watched his legs thin and wither as the once thick quads became average little sticks holding up his now petite lean little body. The veins, the definition, the mass all faded quicker than Allen could fully comprehend. Allen a once tall imposing 250 pound monster of muscles had his muscle and height siphoned away leaving him at an lean 120 pounds of sweet, petite cuteness.

"Please stop! I don't want this, Felicity wouldn't want this! Please just turn me back, I want my muscles back!" Allen said as he let out a quivering little sob.

"Awww aren't you precious, don't worry honey we are nearly done. We just need to make your face match your new super cute body and voice!" The pink hands then grabbed at Allen's head and started to massage his hair and face, making Allen screech and yell all over again.

Allen's voice was quickly muffled as the hands pushed and kneaded his face, at first it was uncomfortable and painful but then it started to feel strange as if his skin and face was actually being pushed around and reshaped. Allen quickly looked to his reflection and tried to look at what the hands were doing. It started with his nose that seems to be pushed and squeezed until it was a cute little button nose. Then came his jaw which was pushed and smoothed until it was less defined, rounder and more androgynous making him look far less masculine. Allen wanted to shout and yell but the hands rubbed at his lips and soon they were plumper and pinker. The hands then rubbed at his skin as it became smoother, softer and blemish free. Allen looked at his reflection and whined as he became delicate, prissy and cute, his once manly, angular, strong face had been morphed into the epitome of pretty boy and with the right make up and wig he would easily pass as a member of the opposite sex! Allen desperately tried to fight the hands as they pinched at his eyes brows, making them thinner and more defined and winced as his ears grew bigger lobes and shrunk in size. Then hands started to tussle his hair and with each toss it grew a little longer and curlier. It was like watching a car accident for Allen, it was horrific seeing his body become something he hated but he couldn't look away as his short brown hair grew into a curly, messy blonde perm on the top of his head, completing his look into tiny, cute pretty boy.

"Oh honey aren't you just the cutest thing!" The voice echoed clearly pleased with its work. "Oh but why so glum?"

Allen could feel the rage building inside of him as he looked at his new face and body, he looked like a completely different person of course he was unhappy! Allen was just about to yell once again when the voice quickly cut him off.

"AHH How could I have been so silly! Of course you have that bitchy little face when I haven't finished your make over without giving you your new look!" The voice shouted in genuine shock as the pink hands quickly pulled at Allen's clothing.

As the lights flickered darker the hands started to twist and pinch at Allen's clothes and quickly they began to change. As one hand pulled up his shirt to reveal his midriff the fabric seemed to shrink away to turn it into a crop top and turned it a bright white so everyone could see him. The shorts he wore to the gym most days thickened as they turned to denim and then rapidly started shrinking until they were a cute pair of daisy dukes, wedging themselves up Allen's ass crack. While his shoes became pretty pink converse, the crucifix around his neck changed into a glittery rainbow, making it clear what the pink hands had turned Allen into. When the hands were finished the lights in the salon turned bright once again and the pink faded from the room.

"One ultra pink renewal finished and looking fabulous! What do you think cutie pie" The voice echoed, leaving Allen staring at his new body, outfit and face.

"Come on sweetie don't be shy, what do you think?"

Allen was left stunned for a moment as he looked at a reflection he did not recognise. A strong feeling of disgust and fury bulged inside him as he looked at his feminine features, diminished height, withered muscles and revealing outfit. "WHAT DO I THINK! TURN ME BACK NOW! I am a freak, I look like some pathetic, weak little fairy! I sound like a fucking little girl! I worked years to build muscles to become a monster at gym that woman wanted to fuck, that Felicity wanted to fuck! Not this prissy, little wimp that has never lifted a day in his life and couldn't lift his own limp little wrists! CHANGE ME BACK NOW YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!" Allen screamed into the void. In his head he still sounded intimidating, scary but in reality he just sound petulant and it only made him sound more pathetic.

Allen was left in silence and the more the quiet hung in the air the more vulnerable he started to feel, the more he was aware of how small he was, how he was still stuck to the floor and how he was still at the mercy of the voice.

"I am sorry you are not satisfied honey." The voice said dejected.

There was another long pause and for a moment Allen thought that perhaps the voice would reverse the changes.

"I know how to fix this though sweetie." The voice said back with its normally bubbly gleeful tone "I'm going to upgrade you! Instead of just the ultra pink renewal I'm gonna give the the super duper prissy pinky-winky dolly-wolly ultra deluxe package! Free of charge!"

"What NO stop!" Allen screeched as the lights flickered and the pink hands returned and this time one held an pink ethereal syringe.

"Careful sweetie you are going to feel a few sharp pricks!" the voice echoed joyfully as Allen yelped and tried once again to escape from the ghostly hands.

The first jab went straight into his lips and immediately they started swelling to an unnatural size. Each one grew fatter and more swollen until Allen found his mouth pushed into a permanent pout but even then they didn't stop. Each lip was pumped with ghostly liquid until they were so fat and swollen that they no longer closed properly, giving him a dumb bimbo pout. Allen yelped as his cheeks were pricked and they started to feel fuller. Allen could barely see but his face felt fuller as his cheeks swelled and his face felt tighter. Soon Allen's cheeks lost their natural contours and instead look bloated, overly plump, and shiny, with a swollen appearance even when he wasn't emoting. Allen cried as he felt hundreds of sharp pricks all over his face, he winced in pain but soon found it harder to move the muscles in his face as it was slowly filling with botox. Each prick injected more until his skin was tight, shiny and barely moved even with the vast distress Allen was feeling.

When the hands finally retreated Allen felt the tears return to his eyes as he no longer had his face, no longer did he have the cute femme face but now he had once bloated and filled to the brim with chemicals making his face look cheap, plastic and fake. Allen wanted to cry but his face barely moved.

"Pweathe thtop thith now... I'm begging you..." A squeaky voiced Allen said to the hands and he winced in embarrassment as he heard how distorted his speech was now thanks to his now plastic face and swollen lips.

Allen wanted to protest but the hands had already moved onto their next target as they grabbed onto his chest and started to squeeze painfully!

Allen felt his former pecs begin to grow and inflate, but this time they weren't growing with muscle. Inside his chest two very large pectoral implants were expanding and growing, each one getting bigger and bigger until they no longer fit into the pink hands. However, that didn't stop the hands from squeezing as each implant grew rounder and started to push out the crop top until it strained against the growing man tits. Allen was now weeping as his chest grew larger until the two unnatural mounds resembled breasts more than pectorals and hung heavy on his chest and threatened to become exposed as they outgrew the white top.

"Pweathe... I don't want titth, I'm a man... thtop it, wet me go..." Allen squeaked but the hands ignored him as they pulled at his outfit and squeezed and touched his body.

The crop top quickly turned pink and changed into a crop vest that now gave Allen much more support for his large man tits that jiggled in front of him. The daisy dukes turned pink and turned into tiny slutty athletic shorts that hugged his body, a body that has now become much softer as a small layer of fat covered any muscle he had left making him seem more doll like and curvy. Then shoes disappeared and were replaced with pink flip flops so he petite little feet were exposed, while each of the nails were painted a pink that matched his outfit.

"Pweathe!" Was all Allen was able to say before he started to sob, as the hands continued their work. The syringe returned and jabbed itself into his forehead and Allen felt his frown slowly disappear. He wanted to look sad, distressed unhappy but his face was now so paralysed with botox that he lost all expression! In fact it almost looked like he was happy!

The hands then grabbed the much smaller weaker Allen and turned him to the side. Then was a loud crack the hands spanked his ass. Allen yelped and cried but not as much as when he saw his ass cheeks begin to inflate and grow. With every hard spank his ass cheeks grew larger and rounder, not with fat, not with muscle but with the same ghostly material that now filled his pecs. Each of his ass cheeks expanded until they were the size of a basketball and they jutted out unnaturally like a shelf. Allen stared in disbelief and he was reminded of the ass he saw earlier in the day. Allen hung his head as he finally realised why this was happening to him and why Felicity had brought him here, she was never going to save him she had caused this.

As if on the cue the lights flickered, the hands disappeared and Felicity ran out of the back room.

Felicity squealed with glee and quickly embraced Allen. His girlfriend was now several inches taller than him and he had never felt so small and vulnerable before.

Allen tried to push Felicity off him but it was much more of struggle now that he was much smaller and weaker, his huge tits jiggling as he tried to step back from the woman that had betrayed him and turned him into a freakish mini ken doll.

"Oh Ally you look so fabulous! Love these tits! You were always more of an ass man though!"

"Get off me! Pweathe... you have to change me back... pweathe I'm thorry for what I thaid but you can't keep me wike thith!" Allen squeaked as he dried the tears from his eyes. He turned and looked at his reflection at the caricature he had become, his face was full of plastic and no longer could he pull any expression, his lips so swollen that he was always pulling a slutty pout. His body doughy, weak and small, something that could easily be overpowered and dominated even by his former girlfriend. The new fake ass and tits that now bounced and wobbled with every movement eclipsing any masculinity he had left. All made worse by his revealing pink outfit and accessories that screamed to everyone who looked at him that he was a flaming homosexual.

"Oh babe don't get upset! Please don't worry. It's all going to be alright follow me!" Felicity said with concern in her eyes as she grabbed Allen's now much smaller feminine hands and dragged him towards the exit.

While the hands above him hovered and the ghostly voice echoed "Ass man?"

Allen suddenly felt the pressure on his plump fake behind grow as each cheek once again began to grow. The once plump rounded cheeks swelled dramatically as layer after layer of thick filler and fat was pumped in, ballooning outward until each massive globe reached the absurd size of a large yoga ball. The skin stretched painfully tight and shiny across the enormous, perfectly round spheres, giving them an unnatural, plastic looking gloss. Deep, unnatural cleavage formed between the two gigantic cheeks, which sat unnaturally high and protruded so far backward that Allen’s lower back arched dramatically just to stay balanced. Walking became a humiliating waddle; the heavy, jiggling orbs slapped together with every step, the sheer weight making his narrow, weakened legs tremble. From behind, his silhouette was cartoonish, a tiny waist flaring into two massive, fake, yoga-ball-sized cheeks that dominated his entire lower body, the sides spilling outward in wide, shelf-like projections that made sitting almost impossible without them spreading and bulging obscenely.

Yet, Allen had no time to react to his massive ass as he was pulled into the evening air by his former girlfriend and over to a huge hulking scary man dressed all in leather and leaning against a motor cycle.

"Ally I want you to meet Ramrod. He is the head of the The Bitch-Splitters gang and they have been looking for a new member to play around with."

Allen was terrified as he looked at the monstrous tattooed man, who smiled at Felicity and then growled and sneered at him. The look in his eye was pure cruel lust as Allen saw the huge bulge in Ramrod's leather pants grow and twitch. The massive 10 inch cock fully on display in such tight leather pants. "Fuck she is perfect, the boys are gonna love fucking an ass that size and I bet them lips will feel fucking great when their tickling my balls."

Allen turned to Felicity his eyes wide with fear "Pweathe don't make me go wiff him... Fewithity!"

Ramrod then grabbed Allen by the hips and spun him around, shoving his face down over his motorcycle. Allen’s enormous, overfilled cheeks spread apart naturally from their sheer size and weight, the deep, tight cleft between them already glistening. Ramrod slapped one giant globe hard, watching it wobble like jelly. "Fuckin’ hell… these things are ridiculous," he laughed, gripping the bloated cheeks and then spanking them hard and making Allen yelp.

Allen whimpered through his plump, cock-sucking lips as the massive biker lined up his thick, bulge against the fabric where Allen's tiny, virgin hole and started to grind. "Please… I’m thtraight—" Allen tried to beg, but it came out as a pathetic, lispy whine. Ramrod didn’t care as he landed another hard smack on the massive cheeks. Ramrod snarled, gripping the sides of the ridiculous yoga ball cheeks like handles and using them to pull Allen up. He reached forward, shoving two thick fingers into Allen’s overfilled mouth, stretching those puffy lips even more. "Suck. That’s all that mouth is good for now." Tears ran down Allen’s flushed cheeks as Ramrod lifted him with ease and put him on the back of his bike. Allen's ass looked obscene as Ramrod drove him and the bitch-splitters newest toy to the clubhouse, where he would thoroughly used and abused for the rest of his days.

While Felicity smiled and waved, glad that there was one less bigot in the world and one more fat booty slut to keep the bitch-splitters out of trouble, all 47 of them.

"Er, Thank you young man. That's very kind of you." Edward mumbled and took the can as he would feel like an ass if he declined a free drink.

"No problem sir! And if you like it please promise to come back and see me for more!" The man smiled gleefully, his demeanour polite and warm, the perfect sales representative.

Edward took the cool can of Big Bubbles and started walking, it was a hot day and perhaps the taste would take his mind off things. Edward opened the can and the sweet scent of peach wafted out with a fizz. Edward then gingerly took a sip as he continued walking alongside the beach. The man had been right about the big flavours and fizz as the bubbly sugary drink coated his taste buds. The taste was almost too sweet but the cool temperature of the peachy liquid was just too refreshing to stop drinking it, so Edward continued to sip at it as he walked.

Edward found his mind going in circles as he went through all the ways he could save his business deal or the mitigating things he could do to so that his hard work was not all for nought. However, as he walked he found it harder and harder to focus on the stress of his deal, the future seemed too far away to think about and instead he found himself looking to the beach and thinking about taking a swim. Edward shook his head and stopped, he took the last sip of his drink and placed it on the low wall beside him and rubbed his eyes again, trying to focus. Edward knew that he should be thinking about ways to convince his clients to proceed, to think of other strategies to make his money back or other potential clients he could sell to at a discounted rate but his brain refused to proceed any further down those trails of thought. Edward was starting to worry as suddenly his body started to get hot.

Edward quickly took off his jacket and pulled at his collar in an attempt to reduce the overheating his body was going through but, the warmth only seemed to increase as he body started to sweat. Edward started to panic, was he ill? He looked around him but found no one near, he was just about to reach for his phone when his whole body tightened and a sudden euphoric surge raced through his whole body from his head down to his toes.

Edward's breath caught in his throat for a second as the wonderful pleasure raced across him before leaving him gasping for breath as his body started to tingle. Edward then felt all of the muscles in his body grow tight, stopping him from moving. Edward wanted to shout as his muscles kept him paralysed but his voice wouldn't respond, even when his muscles loosened. It was like Edward had tensed every muscle in his body and then relaxed them, except when he had relaxed his little belly didn't look so big, his shirt felt tighter around his arms and his feet felt cramped in his shoes.

Edward looked down at himself confused he could have sworn his belt felt tighter and the wall next to him seemed further away. Edward would have contemplated it longer if the same sudden surge of pleasure hadn't raced through his body again, causing all of his muscles to contract and then once again relax. This time Edward knew something was wrong as he looked down his belly no longer poked at his shirt and as he felt it, he didn't feel the softness he was used to. The shirt he wore was now tighter across his chest as what looked like pectoral muscles pushed against the fabric, but that was impossible. Edward had never worked out or been to the gym, yet as he looked at his shirt he could see biceps starting to push through and he felt stronger, taller, fitter. Edward shifted uncomfortably in his shoes that now felt too small and adjusted his belt to try and feel less constrained. What in the world was happening to him?!

Edward knew he needed to call for help, something was wrong and he could be in danger. Edward had always been calm in a crisis and his fast thinking meant he was great at adapting, it's what made him a great business man but as he looked down at his larger more swollen body his brain just seemed to buzz and thoughts seemed muddled. After a few seconds Edward finally went to reach for his phone in his jacket, that he has dropped after the first surge but before he could even start to bend down his whole body tensed and the euphoric waved rolled through him again.

When Edward was allowed to relax he heard the ripping of fabric as his body and his muscles grew even larger. Edward could feel his back muscles bulging, his shoulders broaden and his chest inflate. A button popped off from his shirt as his pecs grew larger and pushed outwards, while a rip formed along the back as his growing arms pushed the fabric to the limit. Edward could feel how tight his trousers were around his muscular thighs, they felt different from the chubby legs he had moments ago but still they rubbed together. Edward winced in pain as he quickly kicked off his shoes, his feet far to large to fit in them. Edward could feel the energy inside him building again, he knew he should be worried that something was wrong, he was reaching for his phone wasn't he? But something in his brain clouded again and while he knew he needed his phone to call for help, it was hard to think what he would say and what number did he need to call? Edward would have been worried about his constant blurred thoughts if he wasn't again suddenly overwhelmed with the delightful pleasure as his body tensed once again.

When Edward relaxed and he gasped for air, his deep ragged breaths were joined by the ripping of his clothes. It started when his socks burst open as he feet grew longer and larger. His trousers ripped as the fabric became too stretched as he grew taller, his legs bulkier with muscles and his thighs thicker and stronger meant the rest of his trousers were barely hanging together. Buttons popped one after the other as Edward's larger bouncy pectorals burst through, the open shirt then revealed his toned, sculpted six pack abs as well as the deep v cut. Edward tried to move his arms but it only made his shirt rip further as his hefty triceps and cannon ball biceps caused the remaining fabric of the shirt to groan. Edward's brain hurt as he struggled to comprehend what was happening to him, he was taller, stronger and bursting with muscles. Edward knew he should be scared and that he needed medical attention but a new part of him, one emerging from the cloud in his brain told him to look at his muscles more closely, to admire how big his chest was, how manly his arms were and how cool his new height was. Edward tried to focus his thoughts back to panic and fear but it was getting harder to do.

He needed help, he needed to know what was happening before the next sur-

It was too late, Edward found himself moaning in pleasure as the surge raced through his body as his new muscles contracted and then relaxed growing even further. This time his clothes stood no chance as the tattered rags fell from his body. Edward even found himself shaking off the remainder of his clothes to free himself from the restricting tightness, leaving him in only his underwear. Edward was shocked as he looked as his massive muscles, his larger broad chest and back, his massive thick as redwood tree thighs and legs, his sculpted marble abdominals and his strong, veiny biceps. He had to have grown at least a foot in height and his feet and hands had grown to match. He looked like a god amongst men and a new part of him was thrilled about it, it told him to be prideful and gleeful as he looked at the new muscles and body. Edward was more than frightened now as he shook those vain thoughts from his head, he needed to get help but how was he going to do that? He needed to work out what was going on, but who could help him? Edward knew he should know the answer to those questions but his mind kept getting lost in a fog and only returned with thoughts of his own muscular body. Edward whimpered as he looked down at his body and like a lost puppy he stood helplessly looking around for help, his own mind refusing to find the answers.

Edward's eyes then caught sight of something as he looked at his new huge body, he looked past his perky pectorals and noticed his underwear. The light peach colour was unfamiliar to him, they felt too tight and more revealing, staring down at them Edward saw the little peach logo on the side, he saw the words 'Big bubbles' emblazoned on them, this wasn't right. Edward closed his eyes and thought hard, he didn't own any underwear that colour, he had put on boxer shorts this morning, loose and airy with no words one them! They weren't his underwear! Edward then looked from his underwear to the can of peach drink sitting on the wall beside him and finally Edward made the connection through the fizzy peach fog in his brain.

It was the drink! It was responsible for his new muscles and also for his slowing brain! Edward cursed himself that it took him so long to work out what was causing the changes to his body and mind, however this only made it more urgent that he get help. Yet, a new part of his brain told him to go back to the man that had given him the drink, perhaps he could help him and change him back! Part of Edward knew that it was a foolish idea as the rest of him told him to dive into the pile of clothes and find his phone and call for help, but every time he looked down he looked at his pectorals and then he thought of the man dressed in his pink uniform and his hairy pectorals poking through his shirt. Edward knew he shouldn't but his body had already started walking, walking back to the Big Bubbles stand to get help.

Leaving his clothes, leaving his phone, leaving everything he had on him Edward started walking back to the man who had given him the can of drink.

Edward barely made it a few feet before he found himself moaning like a whore as the same surge of pleasure rushed through his body to every muscle. This time the surge was so strong it caused Edward's body to shake, throwing his glasses from his face and causing all of his muscles to ripple. Edward could feel his muscles growing again as they continued to ripple, tensing and then relaxing over and over while Edward was left standing paralysed. Edward knew something else was changing but his brain couldn't work out what.

While Edward's muscles continued to grow larger all over his body something else began to change as well. It started from the top of his body where his salt and pepper hair started to lighten, each strand becoming a vibrant bright yellow, more hair sprouted, growing his hair until it was thick and blond. Then his face began to tingle as the deep lines of age smoothed out, each wrinkle fading away as his skin was pulled taut, the youth rushing back to his features as his skin became, clear, soft and bouncy. The muscles that bulged from his body grew larger and the skin across them tightened making them seems bigger and more defined. Edward looked down and noticed just how massive his chest looked now as his perky nipples poked out from his pillowy pectorals that made it impossible to see his own feet. As Edward regressed further his skin appeared softer and more elastic, the definition of his now eight pack abs looked incredible and his arms were now so thick with muscles that they could no longer sit by his side comfortably but instead bulged outwards. His thick powerful legs so stacked with muscle would now give him a bodybuilder's waddle, while his new height left him towering over everyone. Edward found his posture straightening as the lower back pain faded away, the slight ringing in his left ear disappeared and the twinge in elbow was gone. When the rippling stopped Edward was left radiating with the body of a 21 year muscle god in his prime!

Edward's mind took a few moments to catch up as Edward felt his younger face and experienced his youth again, his first thought was sheer panic as his mouth dropped open in shock.

Edward's mind was in a frenzy, how would he continue to conduct business looking like this? How would people recognise him? How was this possible? How tall was he now? How crazy did his massive biceps look? How hot was this huge chest? Could he bounce each pectoral if he wanted? Where was a mirror so that he could flex?

Edward tried to hold on and grasp the initial, rational thoughts of panic but they were soon drowned out with admiration for his own body and soon Edward stood smiling and flexing his pecs.

Edward lost track of time as he stood and flexed his muscles, a dumb laugh would occasionally slip through as he looked at how jacked and toned he was. It was only when a passing couple looked at him strangely that his brain started to exit the fog it has been in.

Edward wanted to scream as he pulled himself out of the peachy fizzy fog that clogged his neurons and slowed his brain, this wasn't him! He was a smart, talented businessman. An experienced and respected professional not some lump of muscle that could barely string a thought together! Edward found himself closing his eyes so that he couldn't be distracted by his own muscles, the peach drink had already clouded so much of his mind that it was insanely hard to think. Knowledge of his business, his deals, his job was all lost behind the fizzy peach bubbles that filled his mind. Edward tried to focus on what to do, but it seemed that not only his business brain had been clouded. Edward struggled to think of the words he needed, he struggled remember who his friends were, what school he went to do and even why he was here on the beach! Edward just knew that he needed help that this wasn't what his body was supposed to be and he focussed on that. He was older and a businessman, he knew that fact and needed to hold onto it although he couldn't remember how old he was and what business he dealt in. Edward opened his eyes and saw his big chest and his peach underwear, 'Big Bubbles' that was where he needed to head. The man with the drinks would help him get old again! Edward started running he knew he was running out of time, he knew he wasn't as smart as before and the handsome peach man could help.

As Edward ran he was aware of a large weight bouncing behind him and his glutes started to feel tingly. Edward just found himself giggling before shaking his head and focussing on the peachy soda man and how he would turn him back. So with each big step Edward ignored the growing swelling coming from his buttocks, he was unaware that each of his cheeks has grown much, much larger. Each one ballooned with muscle and strained at the tiny peach underwear, each one wobbled and swayed with each step leaving his ass impossibly juicy, jiggly and strong. When Edward finally saw the soda man, each of his ass cheeks has grown bigger than his own head and now hung like a shelf off his lower back.

"You... have... to... help... me.." Edward shouted as he ran out of breath towards the handsome Big bubbles salesman.

"Woah slow down big guy!" The handsome soda man said calmly with a big smile on his face. "You look hot and tired, here why not have a drink to cool you down!" The man then held up another can of Big Bubbles soda towards Edward, the smile on his handsome face turning ever so slightly sinister.

Edward stopped and tried to catch his breath, he did feel hot and tired, his mouth also felt very dry, but wasn't there a reason he was coming to this man for help. Edward stood and looked at the good looking man who now seemed tiny compared to his own massive body. Edward couldn't help but compare his own boulder like biceps to the soda man's, they looked so small. Edward couldn't help but flex his arms and smile. Why did he need that man's help when he was already way more muscular than him? Edward fought hard against the fog in his brain but he found himself losing ground, he wasn't here to get help about his muscles from the man, he needed help for another reason. Edward was screaming at the back of his mind, through the growing fog that he needed his body back, he needed his smarts, he needed his life back but each shout became nothing back a dull whisper as his body just stared at the man holding the can of soda in front of him. Edward started screaming wildly in a frenzy in a desperate hope that his body would understand and do the right thing. IT'S THE DRINK THAT CAUSED IT! IT'S THE DRINKS FAULT! IT'S THE DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!DRINK! The peachy fizzy cloud quickly engulfed Edward's mind as the last echoes of his voice reached his consciousness.

"It's the drink! I need a drink!" Edward's body said proudly while his mind screeched 'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO'.

Edward's enormous mitt grabbed the can and opened it with ease and poured the sweet fizzy liquid down his throat quenching his thirst and causing the peachy bubbles to fully engulf his mind. The peachy fog drowned out Edward and drowned out all of his thoughts until only basic, simple ones could survive. Edward's face fell slack as all intelligence drained from his eyes and soon a thin layer of drool started to drip from his lips. The familiar surge of euphoria then raced through his muscles and caused his monstrous body to shudder and let out a dumb chuckle. The soda salesman could only smile with glee as he watched Edward's chest and ass swell with an enormous bloat of muscle. His ass cheeks grew into round plump globes the size of beach balls, each one barely contained by his big bubbles underwear, while his pecs grew just as large if not bigger. The two massive muscles hanging from his chest soon dominated his whole physique, becoming impossible to ignore even for Edward who found himself bouncing them to amuse himself.

"There now don't you feel better. " The salesman said patting his new mascot on the back "Now you stand there and pop those pecs and tell everyone how great Big Bubbles is, can you do that big guy?"

Edward's mind was so slow that it took a minute for him to smile a respond. "Big Bubbles is the best, look at my big bouncy breasts!" Edward sung loudly and dumbly attracting the attention of a couple of gay men.

"Good boy! Now keep it up and you can drink as much as you want." The salesman said before turning to his new customers, while Edward stood and wiggled his fat butt and bounced his big himbo tits, while not a single thought swirled around in his fizzy peachy brain.