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Gather 'round, dear reader, for I have a tale to tell. One of tragedy and misfortune, let it be a warning for all who hear it. You might be thinking: "Isn't it a bit late for a story about werewolves? After all, Halloween has passed." But fear not, for this is no ordinary werewolf tale.

When I say the word "werewolf", what comes to your mind? Monstrous creatures cursed to transform under the full moon, driven by primal urges to hunt and kill? Nothing more than just a myth, right? Well, what if I told you these creatures really exist, although not in the way you might expect?

No one knows how it started, but a long time ago, a rare zoonotic virus emerged around the world infecting and spreading through the animals we now call wolves. Wolves, when infected with this virus, do not suffer any ill effects. In fact, they become stronger, faster, and more resilient. However, the real danger lies in what happens when this virus jumps to humans.

Yes, you heard that right. Humans. Somehow, the virus found a way to cross the species barrier and infect us, which is surprising given that its only vectors of transmission are blood and semen. Well, maybe not very unsurprisingly, as you know what happened with COVID-19. This virus, though, is different. Like with the wolves, it enhances the human host, but at a terrible cost. Can you imagine what it feels like to lose yourself to your carnal desires, to become a slave to your most primal instincts? To have your body change against your will, to become something you never wanted to be?

Well, that's exactly what happens to those infected with the werewolf virus. Scientifically known as Lycanthropus Hominis when transmitted to humans, but commonly designated Lycan-virus, it develops into Lycanthropy, the condition of being a werewolf, though not one like those furry beasts from old folklore.

So let me tell you the story of Chad, a failed influencer turned DoorDash driver, who thought he could handle anything that came his way. Little did he know that his life was about to change forever on a fateful Halloween night in downtown Los Angeles.

Robert woke up that Sunday morning with a burning skull, as if someone had hit his forehead with a steel plate. He wanted to push himself up, but his body no longer obeyed him as nimbly as usual. He felt massive, too heavy for the creaking bed frame. He fell back, which made the bed shake. Robert lifted his head. His chest blocked his view. That wasn't a chest, it was a mountain. What on earth had happened? Robert tried to build momentum to get up. He succeeded. But he was swaying. His pectoral muscles strained against his skin, the veins on his arms were like thick cables, and his center of gravity was so shifted forward that he almost crashed into the cabinet. Every step made the floorboards creak and the glasses in the cabinets rattle. A mirror, I need a mirror, he thought. In the hallway mirror, the shock: it wasn't the 26-year-old banker looking at him, but a colossus of a man, with tanned skin, chiseled muscles, a Turkish titan. Naked. No wonder. What clothes would fit such a colossus? Robert sharply inhaled—and then his gaze glided deeper. Between his massive thighs dangled a monstrous, circumcised member, already half-erect, as if wanting to present itself.

He heard his cell phone vibrate. Dammit, where had he put it. He found it on the dining table. He grabbed it in a panic. His calloused hands—huge, rough from imaginary iron-pumping—slid across the screen until he saw the messages. An unknown number. Pictures. And in these pictures: himself, in his old body. Kneeling, with naked men around him. Cocks in his mouth, in his hand. Pictures of him licking balls, lips gleaming, eyes half-closed in devotion. "No..." he gasped. But the longer he looked, the more his new body worked against it. His heart pounded, his breathing quickened, and between his legs, the arousal grew unstoppable. The disgust mixed with a hot thrill that ran through his belly. His hand—big as a shovel—wrapped around the gigantic organ. The skin was taut, the veins stood out, every pull made his muscles tremble. He groaned deeply, so bassy that it vibrated through the room. His gaze was glued to the photos as his fist moved faster. Finally, his whole body tensed, the veins on his neck swelled, and with a hoarse roar, he shot off—tremendous, powerful, until his reflection was covered in white streaks. Panting, he fell onto the sofa. Sweat gleamed on his skin, and for the first time, he felt something like... satisfaction. A raw, animalistic lust he had never known as a banker.

When he had calmed down a bit, his old way of thinking kicked in again. Clothes. He needed clothes. He googled. Clothes heavyweight bodybuilder. Clothes. He found a specialty mail-order company for heavyweight bodybuilders. He had no idea what size would fit him now. He ordered two XXL tank tops, two t-shirts, a pair of sweatpants, a pair of shorts. But even before he submitted the order, his stomach rumbled. He needed something to help with yesterday's hangover. He ordered pizza. A family-sized pizza. The waiting time was pure torture. When the doorbell finally rang, a shock went through his limbs—he was still naked. He quickly knotted a towel around his hips that barely reached the middle of his thighs. The door opened. The pizza delivery guy stood there, a young man with a cap, and his gaze immediately fixed on Robert's chest. Then it wandered lower, over the abdominal plates, over the stretched towel. Robert felt pride spreading within him. He grinned broadly, raised his arms, and flexed his biceps. The muscles bulged like spheres under his skin. The delivery guy swallowed, his eyes wide. And at that very moment, the towel slipped. It glided silently to the floor. Robert's monstrous member sprang free, semi-erect, shimmering, trailing a glistening thread of precum. A brief, electric moment hung in the air. The delivery guy froze, his pupils widened, and Robert knew: He was in control. With a smile, he held the pose, as if it were all perfectly natural. For the first time since his awakening, he wasn't a victim of his new body. He was its master. And the pizza delivery guy was his devoted servant.

The next morning dawned, and it took Robert a few seconds to realize that yesterday hadn't been a dream. The gigantic body, the heavy chest, the muscles that tensed with every movement—all of it was real. He groaned as he sat up in bed, which was now creaking dangerously. A glance at the clock made him wince. Monday. Work. Normally, he would have already entered the office in his suit, with a confident smile and a flawless hairstyle. But now, he could barely walk to the kitchen without the glasses in the cabinet rattling. A suit, shirt, tie were out of the question. So he reached for his phone and typed a message to his team: "Working from home today." The first Teams call didn't take long. He deactivated the camera, cleared his throat. "Robert? Everything okay with you?" a colleague asked. "Yeah... uh... just a little under the weather." His new voice was deep, rough, vibrating, as if he had a subwoofer in his throat. "Your voice sounds completely different," someone chimed in. "Are you sure you don't want to just take the day off?" "I don't look so good," Robert mumbled, trying to dampen the depth of his voice. "Just feeling so-so." His boss joined in: "Then get some rest. No heroic deeds. We can manage without you." When the call ended, Robert leaned back. He couldn't play the banker anymore. Not in this body.

He opened the browser and typed: "Bodybuilding basics." Soon he was lost in a vortex of videos and forums: How to pose. What exercises for chest, back, legs. What diets. Calories, proteins, supplements. Between articles, his gaze kept returning to himself—to the massive shoulders, the veins that ran over his arms like lightning bolts. His calloused hands glided over his bulging chest, over his abdominal plates, and lower. He couldn't resist. Three times that day, he had to pleasure himself, each time more intensely, more greedily, as if his body was sucking him into a new identity. By evening, he was famished. The refrigerator was open, with only a few lonely pickles left inside. With a growling stomach, he ordered online: five kilograms of chicken breast, bags full of rice, protein powder in XXL containers. When the grocery delivery service finally rang, Robert reached for the towel and knotted it loosely around his hips. He opened the door. The delivery guy, a wiry student type, froze at the sight. His eyes wandered over Robert's naked chest, over his shoulders, over the massive thighs. Robert could see his pupils growing larger. Shit, he could get used to this. He grinned, took a step closer, and the towel fell to the floor—this time, on purpose. The package of groceries almost slipped from the delivery guy's hands. Robert flexed his biceps, let his muscles dance, and his monstrous member hung free between his thighs, heavy, powerful, aroused. A silence filled the hallway, hot and electric. Robert knew in that moment that there was no going back. The banker in him was just a shadow. The bodybuilder was reality.

On the third day, what he had been waiting for finally arrived: the box with the clothes he had ordered. Robert ripped the package open, his new paws almost tearing the tape. Oversized fabric appeared—tank tops, shorts, sweatpants. But on his first try, he realized he had still underestimated the dimensions of his new body. The stringer tank top strained across his chest, the straps looked ridiculously thin on his gigantic shoulders, and his nipples were barely covered. The sweat shorts pressed against his massive thighs, outlining every curve. He looked at himself in the mirror: half-dressed, half-naked—but irresistible. It was less clothing than a presentation. With a deep breath, he opened the apartment door and made his way out. In the stairwell, he ran into a neighbor, an older woman with a shopping basket. She stopped abruptly, her eyes wide. "Who are you?" she asked sharply, her voice trembling. Robert forced a smile that looked almost like a grimace on his angular features. "A family friend. Son of a client of Robert's. I... uh... I'm looking after the apartment while he's on vacation." The neighbor blinked, examined him from head to toe, and her skepticism was palpable. But she said nothing more, just nodded briefly and squeezed past him. On the street, every step felt like a small show of power. Heads turned to look at him. Some looked irritated, others full of respect or desire. Robert soaked up the stares like oxygen. His first destination was the red-light district, a place he would never have gone voluntarily before. Between arcades, betting shops, and shisha lounges, he finally found the shop he had googled earlier. In the window were posters of bodybuilders. Inside: shelves full of supplements, protein powder, boosters, anabolic advertisements. Racks of skin-tight shorts, tank tops in XXXL. The people in the store lifted their heads when he entered. Eyes wandered over his shoulders, his chest, the veins on his arms. Respect—but also astonishment. "Bro, what do you need?" the seller, a burly guy with a shaved head, asked. "Uh... clothes. And maybe... protein?" "What brand? How many grams of protein per shake?" Robert hesitated, the questions bouncing off his ignorance. "Um... doesn't matter? Just a lot." A few customers snickered. One whispered, "He looks like a ten-year pro—and has zero clue." Robert felt his face get hot. But then he unconsciously tensed his chest, slightly raised his arms. Silence. His body was a sufficient answer. Laden with bags, he left the shop. That evening, a couple of the guys he had met there dragged him to a shisha bar. Neon lights, the smell of tobacco, muffled rap from the speakers. He sat on sofas with them, drinking black tea, while the others eyed him like an exotic newcomer. "Yo, bro, how do you talk?" one laughed, "No Turkish, no street slang? A little yuppie German or what?" The group erupted in laughter. Robert grinned awkwardly, his deep bass getting lost in the clamor of voices. They were making fun of him, but it was friendly—a kind of initiation ritual. Robert inhaled the sweet, heavy smoke, his massive chest straining under the stringer, and he realized: For the first time since his awakening, he was outside. No longer just trapped in his apartment. His body spoke for him.

On the fourth day, Robert was already moving around in his new body almost as a matter of course. The stringer tank top smelled of sweet shisha smoke from the night before, his sweat shorts strained against his thighs as if the fabric was about to rip. He was back with the guys in the bar, half-enveloped in a cloud of apple and grape tobacco, as they laughed, cracked jokes, and kept giving him glances. "Bro, your arms..." one said, reaching out uninhibitedly and squeezing the massive bicep ball. "That's crazy. What are you pumping?" Robert just grinned and flexed his muscles. Immediately, the others also laid their hands on him, patted his chest, and slid their fingers over his thigh as if to test whether he was real. A mixture of admiration and a subtle lust hung in the air. Robert enjoyed every second. His dick stirred in his shorts, visibly pressing against the fabric. But when he later went to pay for the round, the mood shifted. He took out his credit card and placed it on the table. The waiter looked at him. "Name?" "Robert Meier." The waiter raised an eyebrow. "Don't kid me. That doesn't fit." "Yes, it does," Robert insisted, but his deep, foreign voice didn't sound like that of a banker from Frankfurt's Westend. The guys snickered, one shouted: "Hey, that's your dad's ID, right?" Robert felt panic. The card was declined. The waiter crossed his arms. "Pay in cash. Or go get money." Robert nodded, stood up. In the ATM room next door, he inserted the card. PIN. Access granted. The machine counted out bills as if nothing had happened. But as he stuffed the wad into his shorts, he suddenly realized: The card still believed in Robert Meier. The bank did too. But no one else. Back at the table, he slapped the bills on the tray. The guys cheered, clapped him on the shoulder. "Rich and built, bro!" one shouted. But Robert silently chewed on the shisha tip, while a decision grew within him. He was no longer Robert Meier, the investment banker. That name was just a tool. An account that could be plundered. An identity he had to exploit while he still could. As he leaned back, one of the guys put his arm around his broad shoulders, almost pressing against him. "You're different, bro. But we're here for you." Robert felt the smoke, the hands, the stares enveloping him. His dick pulsed against the shorts, and he let the guys have their way, touching him like a statue made of flesh. Between lust and danger, he understood: He had crossed the threshold. There was no going back.

A week had passed since Robert had woken up in this new, gigantic form. His car had been sold—for cash, anonymously, without questions. The inventory of his apartment followed in quick, cold transactions: furniture, electronics, everything that wasn't nailed down changed hands. Only a mattress and a box with his new clothes and supplements remained—the tools of his new life. His day began at the gym. The air smelled of iron, sweat, and protein shakes. Robert pressed himself under the heavy barbell, feeling every fiber of his body work. Every set, every lift, every movement was a new lesson: how to find his center of gravity, how muscles reacted, what posture gave him power. And yet, everything was still unpolished. He couldn't perform the exercises perfectly, but the mere sight of his body commanded respect, even from the toughest guys at the gym. Meanwhile, his cell phone rang. His boss. The voice sounded stern, but also worried: "Robert, we need a sick note soon. You haven't checked in since Monday." Panic shot through him. Robert frantically sat down at his laptop, trying to complete the most urgent tasks from his home office. He answered emails, checked numbers, created reports. But the new body disrupted his thinking. His hands were too big, his arms too unsteady. He stumbled over formulas, overlooked sums, made typos. Every attempt to focus on his old life failed. Finally, he took a deep breath, phone in hand. His boss's voice echoed in his thoughts: pressure, expectations, old responsibilities—all so distant, like another life. "Boss..." Robert began, his voice still deep and vibrating, "I... I think I'm having a burnout. I... I can't work right now. I... I need to take a vacation." There was a brief silence on the other end. Then: "Understood. Take care of yourself." Robert hung up. He leaned back, feeling the weight of his muscles on the chair, the veins that strained under his skin like cables. Part of him was relieved. Part of him mourned the old life. But above all, he felt power, presence, pure physical dominance. His old self, the banker Robert Meier, only existed in memories, in accounts he controlled. His new body, his new identity, demanded only one thing: to learn, to grow, to show strength—and to stop bending. Robert reached for the barbell, flexed his muscles, and for a moment, he felt nothing but himself.

The next day, Robert woke up and immediately noticed that something was wrong. His cell phone was beeping nonstop, emails and push notifications from his bank poured in: accounts suspended. Presumably, the cameras in an ATM area had detected that someone who didn't look like Robert Meier was accessing his accounts. He went to the gym. Because it was routine, and because he needed a distraction. But it didn't work. His heart raced. With every muscle that tensed under the stringer tank top, he felt the panic rise. He made his way home—and stopped dead in his tracks. A police car was parked in front of his apartment. Two uniformed officers stood next to the car, notes in hand. Robert turned around, his massive body moving faster than expected, and made his way to his boys at the bodybuilding shop. The store smelled of iron and protein, the guys lifted their heads. "Yo, what's up, bro?" one asked. Robert took a deep breath. "A little trouble with the police... about money." One of the burly guys grinned. "I know. Listen, I have someone at the Turkish consulate. For a thousand bucks, you get a new passport, a new identity. Everything clean." Robert swallowed. The sum was small compared to what he had plundered so far. He glanced at his muscles in the mirror behind the counter—every vein, every line of his body pulsed with strength. He nodded. "Do it." The other buddy grinned slyly. "And I have a place for you. A room in a brothel. If you play a bouncer for a bit, you can live there for free for the next few days. You just have to show you're big and no one will cause trouble." Robert felt a shiver run through him. His body, his presence—he could impress, intimidate, and excite anyone. The idea of asserting himself there was appealing. Not just physically, but also... in a deeper, erotic way. He left the store with a broad grin, shoulders back, chest out, as if he were a king on his way. The guys laughed, patted his arms, tested the muscles—and Robert allowed it, feeling the tingling in every fiber of his body. He waited in the park across from his old apartment until the police had left. He entered his apartment for the last time. At home, he closed the doors behind him, his gaze falling on the few clothes he still owned. He packed everything along with the cash. Soon he would start a new life. A life in which the rules he once knew no longer applied. He leaned against the doorframe, letting his hands glide over his shoulders and chest, feeling the power and desire within him. The thought of the coming days, of the new identity, of the brothel and the opportunity to show off his body, made him shiver—in a way that went far beyond mere muscles.

Robert stepped out of the bodybuilding shop, his bags full of supplements, new clothes in his hand. On the street, he felt how every step in his massive thighs, every movement of his chest and shoulders radiated its own presence. And suddenly—as he looked into the mirror of a shop window—he knew: Robert Meier was dead. A friend brought the envelope from the consulate. New passport, new identity. Cem Karaman, 26 years old, Turkish nationality. He grinned broadly, ripped open the document, and looked at his new self. "Cem, man..." he murmured deeply, his voice vibrating like a subwoofer, "it's on now." His gaze fell on the phone. The compromising photos from the first evening—himself, naked, obedient, stumbling between disgust and lust—were still on the device. Cem felt the hot spark of rebellion. He opened social media and posted everything. With it, a short, venomous text: "Fuck all of you. I'm done with this bourgeois life." As the last letters went online, he felt a wave of freedom shooting through every muscle, every vein, every artery. Without hesitation, he threw the phone into the Main River. It splashed into the water, disappeared, along with everything that reminded him of Robert Meier. Cem Karaman grinned, broadly, arrogantly, confidently. He balled his fists, feeling the untamed power in his body. The world outside would now know him—as himself, as a bodybuilder, as a man who had nothing left to prove to anyone but himself. He now spoke in slang, every word rough, direct, full of attitude. "Yo, dude, life as it was is over. From now on, I do what I want. Whoever wants trouble, gets trouble. Whoever wants to talk me down, talks past me. Got it?" The streets seemed to bow as he walked, wide-legged, dominating with every movement. His muscles tensed, his pulse raced, his dick visibly pressed against the shorts—a symbol of power, lust, and complete freedom. Cem Karaman was born. Robert Meier had drowned. And all that was left was the raw strength, the desire, and the street that now belonged to him.

This is my gym crush:

He's quite obviously straight so there's no hope for me but I still enjoy watching him and fantasizing. I mean, I'd pretty sure no gay guy who cared that much about his appearance would wear those shoes, right?

For several months during my gym visits we'd see each other, though I'm not sure if he even knew that I existed. We had our routines and I'd miss him on the days when he didn't come at 'our' usual time. Then I spotted something on Grindr. It was just a headless torso but I knew it was him! My heart fluttered. Could this be true? Was it just a catfish? I clicked into his profile and then my heart sank once again as I read his profile and realized I stood no chance with him: "FTM only".

A few days later though, I was in the gym doing my usual thing and I saw him coming in my direction. I pretended not to see him but then he came right up to the machine I was using. Inside, I panicked. Was I doing something wrong? Did I have something on my face? All these questions ran through my head.

"How many sets do you have left?" he asked in his deep, smooth voice.

In a slight panic, I quickly replied "Just finished!" and started to get up and grab my towel. Then he laid one of his meaty hands on my shoulder and pushed me back into the seat.

"No rush." He looked at me and a wry smile appeared. Silence reigned for a few seconds before he sparked up a conversation. "I've seen you watching me, you know. You're not as subtle as you think." I must have gone bright red at this point. "And I've seen you keep looking at my Grindr profile." So it was him! He left the silence a little longer. "You're not my type, but if you could be, would you?"

Seeing him up close next to me, his veins bulging all over his shoulders, his tshirt sticking to his skin, a heady mix of deoderant and musk wafting in my direction - I must have lost my mind. I nodded gently. "Great, let's get out of here."

Long story short: His regular long-term guy at the time had some commitment issues and was not putting out, but he was still totally fixated on him and wanted more. And when he wanted something, he got it. And so, I could be with him if I swapped bodies with this other dude and that dude could be a cis-male and get a dick like he'd always wanted. Seemed like a win-win! So...yeah, this is me now:

My original body was pretty average previously but that was not an issue for the other guy apparently because he was ecstatic just to have a cock. I, on the other hand, didn't anymore and boy that wasn't the only shock. I was probably about 15cm shorter now that I was before. Which means Edgar (as he's called) now towers over me and I'm barely at nipple height next to him.

It's so weird not having a dick. Like, even when I'm fully dressed I feel naked somehow. Not sure how to describe it. Clothes definitely fit differently now too, but now I'm with Edgar, it's the least of my worries.

If anything, Edgar is even hotter now than before. From my new shorter perspective, he's even bigger which drives my wild. I love getting to touch his body and he loves me doing it. And his dick... wow. Part of me is jealous of his dick now that I don't have one but that makes me want it all the more. I'm obsessed with it and I think he knows it. He loves taunting me for having a pussy and likes to remind me at every opportunity. I love seeing the playful side of him and being the focus of his attention for once! He knows exactly what to do with his hands and dick to make this body go wild. He's a real pro to be honest. And the best part? I get to wake up to this hunk every morning!

Jackson grumbled as he pulled into the parking lot at 8PM. He wasn't at 100% this evening, having only gotten just a few hours of sleep the night before. He needed the money though. Jackson got out of his car and started walking to the back entrance of the museum.

He hated this place. It was full of tourists, children and fake exhibits. There were a few good ones like the giant snake, but everything else was a bunch of replicas that were barely touched with the term 'educational'. The place was also full of creepy statues. They looked like they were watching you and followed you with their eyes. Jackson didn't trust them.

When Jackson reached the back door, he knocked twice and the door opened. A tall figure appeared with a smirk.

"Beat you again, Jackson. If you're not early, you're not on time."

Jackson rolled his eyes, but couldn't stay mad at his coworker, Max. Even though Max had his sassy moments, he was overall a nice guy.

"Whatever," Jackson mumbled as he walked past the taller man.

"Don't be like that, Jackson. We have a long shift ahead of us."

Jackson and Max worked the night shift at an old museum, specifically around the time the museum closed and up until 2AM. Jackson didn't understand just why the museum needed to security guards working that long since it didn't seem like there was anything too valuable. The job wasn't much, but it helped put food on the table in Jackson's small apartment. He'd never been to Max's place before, but assumed it was probably similar only with some free weights. Jackson and Max's bodies were not very similar. Jackson was a scrawny, short guy, who had a hard time gaining weight. Max, on the other hand, was tall, had muscles and had a six pack. It made Jackson jealous at time, but really made him long to kiss those lips of Max's.

Jackson snapped out of his daydream, "Sorry, I'm just tired."

"I can see that. Maybe you can catch a nap in the storage room."

"Yeah, maybe," Jackson said, while his mind was screaming, 'You and Me Please!'

"You can go ahead and do that now if you want. I'll handle the front. The staff are already starting to leave for the night, so there shouldn't be too much noise."

"That sounds awesome, thanks, Max."

Jackson was going to go lay down on the floor when Max stopped him.

"There's a cot in the storage closet. I found it while I was trying to find the first aid kit."

"Oh my God, thank you!"

Jackson walked off into the closet, closed the door behind him and found the cot.

He laid down and thought about the handsome man that was guarding the museum's entrance. Max. Jackson thought about him a lot. He wasn't sure if the other man was gay, but he didn't really care. He could still dream.

At about midnight, Jackson heard a loud boom like a lightning strike nearby. Last he checked, Jackson didn't see any thunderstorms in the forecast. He stumbled off the cot and fixed his uniform. Maybe Max had gotten a little too curious and knocked something over?

When Jackson left the closet, he saw a trail of dust heading down the hallway. What could have possibly caused this? Maybe the lightning really had been close.

"Max? Where are you?" Jackson yelled down the hall, but got no answer.

Jackson sighed and started walking towards the trail of dust. It seemed to be leading him to one of the exhibits. Jackson had spent some of the late night shifts looking at the artifacts the museum had collected over the years. Some were more impressive than others, but it wasn't really his thing. However, he did notice what looked like a new addition in the collection of masks, but it appeared to be missing. Jackson carefully walked over to the description plaque to read about it, hoping that there might be details on what it looked like.

"The Mask of Loki. Although Loki, the Norse God, was known for his mischievous tricks, he wanted to give his followers something to help him continue creating mischief so he sent down a mask with his powers imbued into it. This artifact was believed to grant the wearer any of their desires. The ancient mask appears wooden and brown-green, but it is not to be mistaken with mold. While wearing the mask, it is said that wearer's face would take on a green color and act as a second layer of skin while the wearer commits tricks in the name of Loki. Artifact added 2024."

Jackson thought the artifact sounded like an interesting one, but he wasn't sure what could have happened to it. The museum's artifacts were locked behind glass and there was no way that anyone could have just picked it up. Suddenly, Jackson heard a low groaning noise in the next room. He quietly walked over, hiding behind the doorway. When he peeked, he saw a hulking figure that appeared to be looking himself over in a large mirror that had never been there before. The guy looked like he'd been bulking and lifting weights for bodybuilding competitions, but what stuck out more than anything else was his face. He had a nice big cleft in his muscular chin, perfect white teeth, beautiful red eyes, handsome blonde hair. All of this looked amazing, but it looked like he was wearing green rubber latex. Jackson wondered if this was the mask described in the museum. If it was, how did it get on his face? The man chuckled with a low bass voice.

"MAN! GUESS I'M GOING THROUGH ANOTHER GROWTH SPURT! I LOOK AMAZING! I'M GONNA NEED A BIGGER SECURITY UNIFORM!"

Jackson then immediately realized who it was. It didn't dawn on him to look closer at the outfit instead of the muscles. The figure was wearing a tight security uniform, very similar to Jackson's. This large person was Max! Jackson started to back away from the doorway, but his shoes made a squeak on the floor. He froze and waited a few seconds before hearing the masked Max continue admiring himself. Jackson quietly sighed and started to turn around to go back to the storage closet. As he turned, he bumped into the masked Max right in front of Jackson.

Max's muscles had surged in the last few seconds, and his security shirt had turned into a tight tank top. The figure grinned down at Jackson menacingly.

"MUSEUM'S CLOSED FOR THE NIGHT!"

Jackson couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He was paralyzed by fear. Max's red eyes pierced through the darkness. Jackson wasn't sure if Max was going to yell at him with that large mouth or crush him with his bare hands. After a few moments, Jackson's breathing started to return to normal.

"M-max? I work here; we both do."

Max leans back and laughs heartily.

"OH MY GOD! YOU SHOULD'VE SEEN YOUR FACE! I'M JUST JOKING!"

"What?!" Jackson was confused.

"YEAH! SORRY, BUT I WANTED TO HAVE A LITTLE FUN. I JUST LOVE SCARING PEOPLE, EVEN MY FRIENDS. ESPECIALLY THE CUTE ONES."

Jackson's eyes widened and he started to blush.

"So....um, did you take that mask?"

"YUP, IT'S PRETTY COOL, HUH?"

"Well, yeah. That's not a good idea though. You're not allowed to touch the artifacts."

"OH BOO HOO, WHAT ARE YOU, THE HEAD OF SECURITY? NOBODY'S GONNA NOTICE IT MISSING, ESPECIALLY SINCE THE MUSEUM IS CLOSED."

Jackson didn't really want to argue with his new-and-improved coworker. Even though he'd just made a flirty comment, he still did look intimidating with his massive muscles. Max noticed Jackson looking at his body and smirked.

"YEAH, SEEMS LIKE I NEED TO CHANGE TO A DIFFERENT SIZE OF UNIFORM. EVEN THIS TANK TOP CAN'T CONTAIN MY AWESOME BOD!"

Max started grunting and flexing, and immediately the uniform ripped apart to pieces. Jackson gasped as he saw his friend's muscular form on display.

He'd never seen someone so attractive in his life. He was even getting hard in his uniform. Max chuckled and leaned in close.

"YOU LIKE WHAT YOU SEE, HUH?"

Jackson was lost in the moment and the smell of sweat and cologne coming from the muscled man.

"Um, y-yeah."

"WELL, IF YOU LOVE IT SO MUCH, MAYBE YOU SHOULD COME WORSHIP ME! I WON'T BITE!"

Max's head suddenly morphed into a green wolf's head with sharp teeth. He barked a few times to make a point, but this kind of frightened Jackson. He started to back away and run. Max's face went back to his green human self and he let out a giggle.

"OH, ARE YOU PLAYING HARD TO GET? I LOVE THIS GAME!"

Jackson started to run quickly through the exhibits. When he looked behind him, he saw the masked Max jogging towards him. His red eyes were now shaped like hearts.

"JACKSON! DON'T YOU WANT TO HAVE SOME FUN WITH A GODLY BOD?!"

"N-no!"

"ARE YOU SURE?!"

"Yes!"

"B-B-BUT I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING SPECIAL!!!"

Jackson didn't spend any time looking behind him, too focused on running away. However, he did start to feel water falling on him like it was raining. He also heard what sounded like a baby crying loudly behind him.

It was so loud, that the walls were rumbling in the museum. Jackson paid no attention to it, and made his way back to the storage closet. He breathed heavily and laid on the cot with his eyes closed. Unbeknownst to him, a green slimy sludge was seeping underneath the locked door, and reforming into masked Max.

"This is just a dream. A really sexy, but terrifying dream. Max is not a monster. He's a good person."

He heard a squeak, and when he opened his eyes, he was looking at the muscular masked Max next to him. The cot had somehow expanded to fit both of them, especially Max's large size.

"OH JACKSON! I'M SO SORRY FOR EARLIER! I DIDN'T MEAN TO TERRIFY YOU! THIS MASK REALLY BRINGS OUT ALL YOUR DESIRES!"

Max made a very sad looking face as he looked at Jackson pleadingly. Jackson sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you kind of freaked me out with that different face of yours. Also, you'd probably run away too if a massive muscular creature was chasing you."

"YA KNOW WHAT? NO, I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT'S LIKE. YOU WANNA TRY THIS MASK OUT?"

Max peeled the wooden mask off his face, his body quickly turning back into his normal self. He held onto the mask and looked over at Jackson.

"You gotta try this thing on, man! It feels amazing! You can do anything with this!"

"And I'm guessing one of those things was chasing your secret crush?"

Jackson smirked with a raised eyebrow. Max faltered and started to blush.

"Ummm, well....we've been working together a few months, and you just seemed like such a great person to be around."

"Oh, um...wow, really?"

"Yeah, and I was hoping that you'd like me, but then I realized you were a scaredy cat."

"I'm not a scaredy cat! I was just taken by surprise, that's all. I wouldn't have been scared if you didn't chase after me like a rabid wolf."

"A cute, little, rabbit would be a better comparison, don't ya think?"

Jackson and Max smiled at each other. They had a lot in common and it was nice to talk with someone in a similar situation. They had also realized that they both had crushes on the other. Jackson took the mask away and looked at Max for reassurance. Max nodded and grinned. Jackson rolled his eyes and started to put the mask onto his face.

The mask immediately latched onto him. Jackson's head lurched about from left to right. He tried finding a way to pull it off, but Max yelled out.

"Don't fight it! This part is weird, but it's all worth it after!"

Rubbery green tendrils were enveloping all of Jackson's head. He started to feel oddly confident and super happy, like he could take on the world. As the tendrils finished covering his head, a green tornado covered up Jackson's body and it jumped all over the place in the storage closet.

Max was a little frightened, but the tornado never hit him at all. The tornado continued to grow big as it knocked over various shelves and dented the walls. From the inside of the tornado, Jackson let out a loud "OH YEAHHHH!". Suddenly, the tornado came to an abrupt halt in front of Max, and revealed a new Jackson.

"Wow, you look incredible!"

"HELL YEAH, BABY!"

Jackson's body was now muscular and taller than the masked Max. He seemed to want to 1-up Max, and grew his muscles much larger than when Max had the mask on earlier. Max was surprised at how he looked, and started to feel a tightness in his pants. He gulped, and felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Jackson noticed this and let out a chuckle.

"WHAT'S THE MATTER, BIG GUY? FEELING A LITTLE BIT SQUISHY IN YOUR PANTS?"

Jackson laughed and gave Max a slap on the back. He didn't know how strong he had gotten, so it caused the shorter man to fall down onto the cot.

"OOPS! SORRY ABOUT THAT!"

"No, it's ok."

Max got up from the cot, and looked at the new Jackson. It was strange to see the scrawny guy with the big muscles, but there was something sexy about it.

"SO ANYTHING I DESIRE EH? WELL, NOW THAT WE'VE CLEARED THE AIR ON HAVING CRUSHES ON EACH OTHER, I THINK IT'S TIME FOR US TO HAVE SOME FUN!"

Jackson picked up Max and started making out passionately. The cot immediately transformed into a large king-sized bed. Jackson set Max down quickly, and jumped onto the bed.

He laid naked in the bed, the sheets barely able to cover up his massive package as he beckoned Max over to him.

"GET READY FOR THE BEST ADVENTURE OF YOUR LIFE!"

Zachary Thompson was parked outside of a 24-hour gym in a strip mall not too far from his house. He was sweating in the Arizona heat, one hand clenched nervously in his lap, the other refusing to let go of the steering wheel. His heart was racing a million miles a minute in his overly-muscled chest. 

“I can do this,” he tried to convince himself, “I’ve got the body, I’ve got the muscles. I can do this.”

Still, everything inside of him was saying to just turn around, drive back home and try to go to the gym again tomorrow. That was when the genie, Aabrof, appeared at his side in the passenger seat.

“Having some doubts?” the genie teased, “You know, for your second wish, I could always –”

“No,” Zachary firmly cut him off.

“For your second wish,” the genie continued, regardless, “I could always give you a little dash of confidence to go along with that handsome new body of yours.”

“No. I want to be able to do this on my own. I don’t want to change who I am.”

“Change who you are!?” Aabrof scoffed, “My dear boy, look at yourself! I’m afraid you’ve already done that!”

It was true. Zachary examined his reflection in the rear-view mirror of the car. He didn’t recognize the jock-looking face that stared back at him. The shaggy hair. The wide, muscular neck.

“Just a tiny bit of confidence,” the genie bargained, as if he was speaking directly into Zachary’s mind, “That’s all, my boy. Think of how nice it will be to walk in there with your head held high, like you’ve been there a hundred times before. Think of how easily you will be able to lift the weights and work the machines. Think of how comfortable you will feel getting undressed in the locker room, how much you will enjoy showing off those splendid new muscles, how confident you will feel knowing all eyes are on you as you step out of the shower, your muscles still heavy and full and dripping wet…”

“Okay,” Zachary said in a voice that sounded strangely distant to him. 

“You wish?” the genie urged him on with an impish gleam in his eye.

“I wish,” Zachary affirmed, “That I had the confidence to go into the gym.”

“Your wish is my command.”

The genie twirled his mustache, gave a wink, and then vanished into thin air.

A relaxed look washed across Zachary’s face. His fist unclenched in his lap as he sat back into the seat of the car. He looked down at his body and felt a sense of pride at how huge he looked, especially in the tiny shorts and tight black tank top that he was wearing. He realized how awesome it felt wearing clothes that showed off his body, rather than having to hide how he looked. 

He hoped that girl, Hannah, was working at the front desk so that she could see him like this. He couldn’t wait to give her a little flex and a smile as he handed her his well-worn gym membership card. But mostly, he couldn’t wait to get in there and work out harder than he had ever worked out in his life.

“Holy shit… What… What the fuck is going on here? You look just like me!” The young college geek said in a panic, staring at what appeared to be his perfect doppelganger, wearing his dirty undies with a bit of a chub clearly visible.

“Dude, man, relax! Shit…” The other geek said with an uncharacteristically deep voice with a laid back urban drawl, exasperated with trying to calm the first boy down, “You weren’t supposed to be home so early.”

“What the fuck… That voice… No fucking way… Jerome?” The first geek asked, stunned.

The second geek looked down, blushing in shame at being caught, “Yeah man, sorry… You weren’t suppose to ever find out.” He sat on the bed nearby. “I’m sorry Kevin, I’ll stop, I won’t do it again.” He said with a sigh.

Kevin was still in shock, but sat next to his now twin, “Whoa, back up. Why did you do this, and more importantly, how?”

Jerome looked at the real Kevin and seemed to struggle for words. “Well, it’s like this. As a masculine Black man, and one of the school’s athletes, I’m expected to maintain a certain reputation. But I hate it, it’s not me, never really was. Fact is, I don’t like chicks all that much, they annoy me and they’re all shady as fuck.”

“Ok…” Kevin said, waiting for Jerome to go on.

“And yeah, so being you, I can at least enjoy being someone else for a while, pretend I don’t have to live that lie, you know? Be free and shit.” He replied.

Kevin was a bit unnerved hearing Jerome’s deep voice coming out of his mouth, well, not his mouth, his twin’s mouth, but still, it was weird hearing a Black man’s voice coming from a skinny White nerd’s body.

“So anyway, yeah, when you’re off in class and I have the room to myself, I sneak one of your dirty drawers and slip them on, and with a little magic, I become your twin for a bit, at least as long as I have these drawers on.” He said, standing up and moving to slip them off.

“No, wait…” Kevin said, reaching out to stop him.

“What? Don’t you want me to go back to normal?” Jerome asked, sincerely.

“Yes and no. But let’s go back. So what you’re telling me is, you’re gay then?”

Jerome didn’t reply for a minute until finally he sighed and said, “Yeah… I guess I am. I mean, I don’t like chicks at all, but I’ve never been with a dude either, not yet, since I never been you longer than a few hours.” He said with a shrug.

“You know I’m straight right?” Kevin replied. “I mean, if you’re gay, that’s cool and all, don’t have a problem with it, but I can tell you I have no attraction to other men.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured. Either that or you weren’t into me since you never made a move or nothing.”

“Well, won’t lie, you do have an amazing physique, put a lot of hard work into it, no doubt about it. But yeah, no interest at all. Jealousy, yes, but not sexual attraction.” Kevin said with a nervous chuckle.

Jerome nodded and then looked down, “So, guess you’ll be wanting these back then…” He said, gesturing to the dirty undies.

“Actually, I have an idea… If you’re up for it…” Kevin said with a grin.

“Oh?”

“You keep them, seriously. I kinda don’t want them back now, no offense. But can you do what you did here… to me?”

“What? Like can I magic some drawers and turn you into someone else? I should be able to. Why, who you have in mind?” Jerome asked, not seeing where this was about to go.

“Well, if you want to be me, why not let me be you then, right? Look, I’m straight, right? But look at me, no girl thinks I am, so they all kinda blow me off. But you, man, you could get any girl you wanted, and you know it. So win-win right? I get to be you and hopefully end up drowning in coeds, and you get to be me and go find some guy to hookup with.”

Jerome thought it over for a bit, it could work, keep his reputation intact and give him the freedom to explore his sexuality. Who knows, maybe he won’t like guys much either, but at least he’d have the chance to try it out without everyone labeling him as gay for the rest of his life.

“All right, sure. Let’s do it.” Jerome said with a smile.

“One thing though, can you do anything about our voices? I mean, it’s a bit weird if I sound like me with your body, right?”

“What? Oh yeah, sure. Just like this.” He said, closing his eyes for a second then smiling back at Kevin, “How’s this? Better?” he asked in a voice identical to Kevin’s now.

“Yeah, much better. Wow, this is gonna be so cool man. Maybe it’s a good thing my professor was out sick and had to cancel at the last minute or I’d never have found out about any of this!”

Jerome returned with some of his dirty boxer briefs a minute later, used his magic on them and handed them to Kevin. Kevin was a bit leery to slip on dirty underwear at first, but figured, as soon as he slipped them on, he’d have the body they belonged to, right?

It’s been months, and Kevin is pretty used to being Jerome now, even grew his hair out and got it styled like this, something he would never really be able to pull off before. Kevin also planned to get some tattoos since Jerome never had any, maybe a lot of them, all over his arms and chest.

Kevin enjoys his new life and body, and has gotten laid so many times in the last several weeks that he’s lost count. He knows Jerome is getting action too since he can hear it sometimes down the hall of the dorm and he sometimes sees the beefy older guys that come out of the room in a hurry afterwards while he’s sitting on the couch gaming.

Jerome hasn’t bothered to ask for his life back, and Kevin isn’t really in much of a hurry to go back to the way things were before. But maybe this is how things were always meant to be?

The new Jerome enjoyed the easier life of playing football and taking basic classes but not even really having to try all that hard to pass them – And soon enough, he had several NFL teams scouting him out, wanting to sign him on as soon as he graduated. What could be better than that?

==========

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I put the helmet on while I browsed Goodwill out of sheer curiosity. I would never expect it to be a magical helmet that drained my body out of the piling fat and left me with this lean muscular form of a football player. I look at the helmet one more time, I can see that it has some leftover glow surrounding it so I decided to put the helmet back on one more time to absorb every magic out of this helmet

It's hard to believe Im a college graduate. At such a young age. Yes, i'm one of those. I jump through the school and grades without a problem .

I got a interview for a job. For doing Lab work. Which is degree.

I went to a second-hand shop. And I found a suit, shirt and tie that will work for the interview It's a little big but it will have to do.

As I walked down the hallway I was able to see some stuff in the building had the offer, one of their labs. Reminds me one the at the college. No one is in there working.

Outside HR. The room was full of young college graduates. And looking at them I stood out like a sore thumb. A nerd wearing a suit that's too big for him.

Compared to what I see, I don't look anything like any of these guys. They are talking to each other. There was this one one blonde guy. He sounded pretty dumb as a box of rocks. He pretty handsome but not pretty smart.

The room was clearing out of interviewers pretty soon was just down to the two of us.

I'm just looking at him. He has a better opportunity working here because of his appearance that I have for my IQ. That's when it hit me.

That's when the HR receptioners came out and told me that my interview will be pushed later in the afternoon and come back after lunch. They were looking for the blonde gentleman across from me, and I said he went to the washroom and I will let him know.

That's when an idea hit me.

I slipped down into the lab to see what they had . There had everything I needed.

I slept out of my suit and put on some clothes I found in the lab locker

I walked back into the waiting area looking like a lab tech. The blond guy had returned from the restroom. I asked him to follow me.

And he pretty much did what I was told told him to do.

We get to the lab and I tell him to take off his jacket and tie. And he sits down on the stool.

I made up some bs story of what we do here since i'm not working here myself.

Since I just got out of college I remember this formula like it was yesterday. I was joking around with the kid and I poured it into a glass and had him drink it.

It pretty much was tasteless. But it sure had a quick effect on this dumb blonde.

I had two hours to get this all done.

It worked just like it did in the lab. What's the first time I ever did it outside school. He quickly went under my control. We went behind a screen. I stripped him out of his clothes until he was completely naked.

I made another mixture and drank it myself.

I stripped myself naked as my formula took effect.

There, I was able to pull the blonde's essence from his body. And I placed it in a beaker on the table.

His handsome young body just stoid there lifeless. I reached into my own chest, and I pulled out my own essence. I started pushing it towards the blonde's body.

As the process is happening I black out before I regain consciousness inside the blonde body.

Ic was now taking over control of his body. His good looks and beautiful physique. And next I put on his tailor-made suit. I was getting a mixture of his memories. His mannerisms in his talents. Must be part of the body. It was pretty much taking over his life.

I grabbed the beker and pull his essence out . I pushed it into the chest of my old lifeless body. I went over to the locker that had stowed my suit in and got him dressed

I really did look like a dork that suit definitely did not fit me.

I put everything back to in place in the lab.

I grab my old self and walked out of the lab and down the hall. As we were passing the bathroom. I pushed him inside and towards a stall. There I sat him down on the toilet seat and locked the stall door leaving him there. Soon he bevsnap out of it as a dumb version of me.

Pieces of this blonde's life popped into my head. It was kind of like we are swapping everything. I be driving his car,wearing his clothes. Living in his apartment.

I went down to the parking lot and found his car. It was another suit inside and I decided to switch to it. I don't know why I did it. I just did

After lunch I returned back to HR.

Just being in this blonde's body for just a little while seems to be giving it more confidence. I seem to be projecting that. As I sat in HR waiting for my interview .

It was a positive while with the interview. And trust me swapping bodies with guys was a plus for me and for him. They would have laughed at him if they heard him talk. I can't believe he even had a college degree.

Come to think of it even after my interview I didn't even see him. I even checked the bathroom where I put him. And he was gone.

I went outside to the parking lot and got it to my new car. The blonde got for graduation gift from his grandparents.

I'm pretty much in control. When I took his body from him. Along with his lifestyle. The big plus was adding my IQ to his body when I took it over.

With me inside this beautiful blonde body you can say it has a brighter future.

There’s nothing more amazing than having possessed a body. Being dead gets kinda fuckin’ awful, bruh. You’re floating around, looking at others live their lives, knowing you’d live it better… I mean, that’s Emilio! Look at him. He’s got so much potential, and he’d rather be taking fuckin’ filter selfies on Instagram for his 300 followers. If only he’d have hit the gym for a few years, joined the football team… Woulda been a whole different story. He wouldn’t have needed my help. But, I mean, I can’t complain. Profits flow upward, bruh. I’m in charge now, so I get the gold.

Dedicated to my Valentine, the lovely @mergeman

--------------------------

The fact that I was still trying to work out at the gym a few days a week was a testament to my sheer stubborn force of will. Now that my college days were now several years behind me, it was becoming painfully obvious that I was growing more and more out of shape. So, I decided to join the massive throng of people who made a resolution to work out more in the New Year. Most of the New Year's Eve crowd had given up a few weeks ago, but I refused to let myself become part of a failure statistic.

Which, while that did feel something to be proud of... I really wasn't changing any other part of my lifestyle. I was still eating ramen for lunch and dinner almost every day, my daily food intake was completely devoid of any fruits or veggies, and... well, I wasn't sure if protein shakes were legit science or just overhyped consumerism, but I wasn't buying any of those, either. I showed up, played around on the equipment for a few hours without really breaking a sweat, and then called it a day. I was going through the motions without actually putting in any effort, so of course I wasn't going to see any results.

Honestly, at this point, I think the only reason I was still going to the gym was the amount of free eye candy. Now that the machines were less crowded, the gym rats were free to return to their natural habitat. The beefcakes were completely oblivious to my wandering eye, which allowed me to consume as much eye candy as I desired. Budget-Jason-Momoa was my favorite, but Almost-Tom-Holland-With-Wide-Shoulders was a close second.

And then there was Greg. Well, I have no idea what his real name is, but... I call him Greg, because he reminds me of a guy I knew back in college. He looks looks nothing like Greg. This guy has dark brown hair, a full beard, and massive pecs that were practically the size of my head while my Greg was a five foot nothing skater boy with long, blonde hair. And yet, this guy wears a headband that looks exactly like the one that my Greg used to wear all the time.

"Take a photo, it'll last longer," Greg said, flexing an arm in my direction. He smiled at me, clearly taking my attention as a compliment.

"I am so sorry!" I said, immediately dropping my gaze to the floor. He would be the first person to notice me staring at his amazing body. "I, uhh... it's just, that headband. You remind me of my friend Greg."

Whatever answer he was expecting, he clearly was not expecting that. He paused, fumbling with his water bottle for a few moments before seemingly making a decision. "Follow me," he said, gesturing with his massive hands. He sauntered off toward the back of the gym, where the employee's only cleaning closet was located. Where he was going, I had no idea. But I knew enough about myself to know that if I didn't follow him, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

Greg wedged himself into the closet, standing on top of the mop drain and ducking slightly so that his shoulders cleared the shelves of cleaning supplies. "I know it's a tight fit, but the door has to close behind you," he said. I obliged, standing on top of the vacuum cleaner to do so. Even if this was an elaborate prank, I was standing close enough to him to feel the heat of his body, and the pungent smell of his sweaty body brought all four and a half inches of my manhood to attention. Greg pressed against a portion of wall, there was an audible clicking sound, and then the entire closet started to move. "Yeah, it's an elevator," he said, correctly reading the look of confusion on my face. "Trust me, Bennett, it's only going to get weirder from here."

I had never told him my name. "You really are Greg," I whispered, staring up into his eyes.

He smiled back at me. "For the most part. The old Greg was merged into Keaton's body, and I am the result. I'm about 80% Greg's personality, with the 20% being habits and mannerisms from Keaton. Physically, it's probably closer to 90/10 in Keaton's favor. The perky nipples are all Greg, though," he added, winking at me as he lifted an arm to fondle himself through his muscle tank.

Once the movement stopped, the wall behind Greg slid away like an elevator door, revealing a dimly lit metal room. The center of the room was an elaborate tube contraption that looked like someone had tried to turn a tanning booth into a Science Fiction movie prop. There was some sort of control console off to the side that was displaying a gallery of men on its screen. "Go ahead, pick a body," Greg said, gesturing me over to the device.

"Every man you see listed there has been screened for compatibility with the program," Greg explained. "They're all single, muscular men in peak physical condition. They also think they're agreeing to try out an experimental intelligence boosting drug. Which... in a way, I guess they are. I may not have much of Keaton's personality, but I do have complete memories from both of my former selves."

"I choose him," I said, after scrolling through a few of the other men. There was something about him that felt right. He looked confident, but in a way that suggested a quiet smug behavior and not an in-your-face cocky attitude. I found myself instantly drawn to his wide shoulders, and his eyes were captivating.

Greg looked over my shoulder and smiled. "I see you've chosen Travis, that's an interesting pick. I can't guarantee what you will look like once the merging process is done, of course. You won't keep the same tattoos, I can tell you that right now. Still, I'm sure the new you will be just as charming as he is intelligent."

I could feel my cheeks turning red at that comment, but I decided to ignore it. "So... what happens now? I mean, he's not actually here, right?"

"That's right," Greg said. "So, we're going to run the machine on you first, and it's going to convert you into a... a liquid, basically. We'll also notify Travis that we're ready for the experiment to begin. When he enters the machine, he will be injected with the liquid we made out of you, and... at the end of that process, the new you will be finalized. I know it sounds like a lot, but I promise that it isn't painful in any way."

I nodded, feeling equal parts nervous and excited at the thought of becoming merged with a muscle hunk. "I'm ready," I said, looking over at Greg.

He just laughed at me. "No, you're not. Clothing interferes with the process. You gotta get naked first, then you'll be ready."

"Oh. Ummm... can I at least get some privacy?" I asked, suddenly painfully aware of my still-raging erection.

"You can't," he said, with a wide grin. He grabbed the waistband of my gym shorts, and pulled both my shorts and my boxers down to my ankles. "Besides, I already know that you're happy to see me," he said, reaching around to give my shaft a quick squeeze. "If the new you is also gay, maybe we can have some fun later."

I let out a brief, involuntary moan as a shiver of pleasure rushed up my spine. Well, at least things couldn't possibly get more awkward. I quickly shucked off the rest of my clothes, and stepped into the modified tanning booth. The lights flickered on, and soon all I could hear was the loud hum of the fluorescent lights. My skin started to feel unnaturally warm, and pretty soon I could feel my consciousness slipping away as a peaceful, calming sensation overtook me...

--------------------------

The first memory that I have is lying naked on a medical gurney with a massive headache. Moments ago, I had been standing in a tanning booth, except that moments ago I was also sitting on this medical bed thing getting an IV hooked up to my arm. I reached up to feel my hair, which was now trimmed to a short buzzcut. It wasn't different from my short blonde hair. It was a big change from my long brown man bun. My ink changed, but the designs were inspired by the trip to Japan I took after high school. I hated that trip, but it was a family vacation. I always wanted to go to Japan, but travelling just for anime would have been stupid. I glanced over to the mirror to check out my new body. The amount of muscle I grew was almost insane. Honestly, I think I lost a bit of definition, but I can probably get it back. I must have spent at least a half hour examining my new body.

You get the idea. Even now, I'm still occasionally seeing things that trigger conflicting memories from Bennett or Travis, but the first few weeks were the absolute worst. I'm glad that I had Greg at my side to help me through the worst of the merging sickness, as we called it. I've had migraines before, and this was definitely worse somehow.

Unlike Greg, I didn't really feel a loyalty to either of my former selves. I decided that my name would be Benjamin. Like if someone took Bennett's name and made it popular. No one expects a civil engineer to look this good, but it's made climbing the career ladder so much easier. Especially now that I actually want to go fishing with the boss when he invites me out to the lake.

I haven't been back to that gym in several months-- too many conflicting memories, so I just use a home gym setup instead. Greg still goes a few times a week, though. After all, he's still helping the owner find good candidates for merging. I find it weird that Greg still has to pay the monthly membership fee despite being an employee of sorts, but I don't complain. He's the only reason I exist, after all.

Adrian watched over the beach with the same dead expression he did every day. He’d grown up on these beaches, played in the sea, built sand castles, and now he was working as a lifeguard to make some extra cash between semesters at college.

He hated it, the beach wasn’t the same when you had to police it. There was no fun, no lazy evenings under the setting sun. There was only being ignored by everyone even when he was trying to save their ass, and evening in bed exhausted from being ignored.

Watching from between the waves stood Poseidon. He knew of Adrian, he’d showed him mercy years ago and let the boy be saved from drowning.

He’d kept an eye on him every since. The god of the sea knew that Adrian had a deep love and respect for the ocean, he knew that Adrian understood the power of it.

He’d taken his time to find a mortal to gift with his blessing. He’d turned down sailors, divers, marine biologists. They didn’t feel right.

Poseidon knew that most of his brothers and sisters were ahead of him, they’d picked mortals. They were growing their flock.

But he’d taken his time, he hadn’t fallen on hard times like the other gods. Humanity always respected the sea, Poseidon always had people who’d pray to him, even if they didn’t use his name.

But he wasn’t going to miss out, and Adrian was perfect. He had the soul, and Poseidon would gift him the body. Adrian being a lifeguard was sure to bring countless mortals into Poseidon’s temple, even if that temple was Adrian’s bedroom for the time being.

Adrian was leaning against the railing of the lifeguards station, his lean body on full display. His boss was a pervert and had forced the female lifeguards into wearing little bikinis, and due to a lawsuit he’d then had to make the dress code ‘equal’. Instead of giving the girls normal clothes to wear he’d made all the male lifeguards wear speedo.

So Adrian was wearing tight white and black speedos that showed to everyone that he had barely anything to fill them up.

Then the wind picked up and slapped him with a salty sea breeze.

His speedo strained against the kraken that had just sprouted inside it. Two rounded orbs and a long shrank of meat. Adrian stared down at it in shock, but a smooth deep voice whispered to him to be calm. He shook his hips, making his bulge bounce and shake.

His ass started to expand, thick powerful glutes to throw some hurricane like force behind Adrian’s new cock. Adrian pulled at his speedo to give himself some more space, his legs stretching and growing heavy with muscle.

Adrian was giddy, he should be freaking out, but the voice kept calming him.

The change was spreading, widening his feet, stretching his bones, packing meaty muscle onto his torso. His newly grown pecs bounced, his shoulders and biceps twitched.

His tan darkened and his hair gained a salty texture, like he’d been living in the ocean, instead of just taking a dip.

The breeze kept blowing, washing away the old Adrian. Waves of cool air sweeping in the new Adrian.

Tall, powerful, forceful, commanding. No one would ignore his orders anymore, when he told someone to get out of the water, they would, when he told someone to stop kicking sand, they would, when he demanded someone go to the lifeguard hut and spread their legs, they would.

Adrian scratched at his bulging basket and grabbed his bag, his shift was done. Normally he’d be getting changed before walking him, but today he felt it would be doing a disservice to his Lord if he covered up his glory. He picked up his old sneakers, not even realising that they wouldn’t fit his new flipper like feet.

Adrain was not what people would assume a servant of Poseidon would be, they’d assume a lean swimmer.

But a swimmer was meant to be quick and pass through the water, Adrian was big, broad and powerful he was meant to control the waves, to bend them and people to his will, all for the glory of Poseidon.

It had all started a few months ago. Isaac had been walking home late at night taking a shortcut through the poorly illuminated local park. Suddenly a series of deep screams and shouts rang out through the night air, stopping him in his tracks. Isaac moved forward, believing it to be the antics of some drunk men nearby. But another set of yells boomed out, closer this time. He walked faster, through the dark park only to see the figure of a man hunched on the ground in the distance.

Concerned for himself and the man, Isaac nervously approached, “E-excuse me? Are you okay?”

Isaac got close enough that the light of the full moon revealed the man to be naked, panting on all fours. “What the hell?” he whispered to himself.

The man slowly stumbled to his feet, unveiling his imposing height and muscular frame. Isaac looked on stunned at the sight of this naked specimen of virility standing mere feet away from him. Tattered clothing hung from the man’s thick, hairy limbs. The man’s chiseled, bearded face oozed masculinity, his eyes tinged with fear and lust. Most eye-catching of all was the enormous, hard cock jutting out from a pair of ruined shorts, surrounded by a nest of dark pubes.

Isaac braced himself as the man seemed to come to his senses and dashed forward. “P-please, get away!” the man yelled as he pushed Isaac out of the way and ran. Isaac tumbled to the ground and the man span back around, realizing how hard he’d pushed the scrawny twenty-eight-year-old. Terrified, the man looked on at Isaac pushing himself off the ground, and continued his sprint away, disappearing into the dark.

“Fuck…” Isaac grumbled, brushing the dirt from his arms only to feel a damp, sticky something as well. He looked at the ground, seeing streaks of the watery, white substance sprayed across the dirt and pavement. “It looks like… Oh fuck, gross!” Isaac bemoaned. He rushed the rest of the way home, noticing how the damp spots on his arms and hands seemed to tingle and burn. He immediately showered to wash the man’s spunk from his limbs and crawled into bed, hoping to forget the experience quickly. Indeed, the events of that night left his thoughts over a few days and life went on. Until the next full moon, anyway…

It was about a month later when Isaac was relaxing on the couch, holding his phone over his face while the light of the full moon glowed through the window when a strange shiver rushed through him. The phone slapped him in the nose and fell to the floor. The lanky man followed suit, rolling to the ground as the twitching and tension spread quickly through his body.

All he could muster were primal moans, growls, and shouts as his body stretched taller. His limbs lengthened like his torso while his feet erupted from his shoes. Muscles swelled across his figure, destroying his slim-cut clothing. His head crunched and groaned as his face shifted and morphed, taking on more masculine properties and becoming incredibly attractive. He screamed in bliss as his cock pulsed larger and larger, shooting cum across his stunning body. Isaac spent that entire first night exploring his new body. Then, as the moon faded from the sky, his body retracted and reverted to how it had always been. This would be the first of many transformations to come.

At first, Isaac wasn’t sure what had happened, or if it would happen again. It was only after the first two transformations that he connected them to the full moon, leading him to prepare so his growing body wouldn’t obliterate his clothing as it did before. It was then that he realized he’d inherited some curse or contagion from the man in the park that night. Logically, he concluded he was contagious too, and so he tried his hardest to resist the overwhelming desire to seek out other men during his transformations. But in that superior form his inhibitions were lower and his personality carefree.

By the third full moon, the changes were becoming stronger. That night he couldn’t resist and found himself in bed with a handsome twink. Part of Isaac was horrified knowing that he was spreading the curse to someone else. But a growing part of him saw the affliction not as a curse, but a blessing. He couldn’t help but be turned on knowing that the cute bottom would morph into a jock stud like himself at the next full moon.

It was only two weeks after the last transformation that Isaac was walking home when he felt the changes strike out of nowhere. It was only early evening, and most definitely not a full moon. He barely made it to his home before he collapsed, incapacitated by the searing pleasure of becoming a masculine stud. From there the transformations grew more haphazard in duration and frequency, striking every full moon, but increasingly in between them as well and lasting longer every time.

After one week where Isaac had transformed four times, the last time during the middle of the day for almost 18 hours, he knew he was likely to change permanently at some stage soon. He wondered how he would manage the contagious nature of his condition if it became permanent, or if the new him would care at all.

It was right at the end of a workday while Isaac was on the phone with his supervisor when the telltale pins and needles moved up his arms, “Oh no…” His boss could hear him groaning down the line.

“Is everything alright?” his manager asked with some concern.

“I… argh… I think I’m coming d-down with something… I should g-go…” Isaac stuttered, slamming the phone down and fleeing the office. He got into his car, trembling as he tried to insert the key.

Sweat dripped from his forehead and stung his eyes as he sped down the roads. “No, no, no not now… Not n-n-nooooooow, augh!” Isaac cried out as his entire body stretched taller in the driver’s seat. He could feel warm cum unload against his leg. There was no holding the changes back any longer.

Isaac’s mouth hung open as he struggled to keep his eyes fixed on the road, resisting the urge to watch his shirt stretching and tearing under the pressure of huge pecs and broad shoulders bulging out from his body. His arms were bloating, expanding the sleeves of the slim-fit business shirt to breaking point. He gripped the wheel tight - the closest thing to flexing he could safely do in the moment - and moaned loudly at the power he felt in his strengthening limbs.

“Augh, god!” Isaac groaned, his hands cramping around the steering wheel as they too swelled in size. His hands broadened while his fingers curled longer and thicker around the pliable wheel.

A red traffic light offered some respite, allowing Isaac to survey the damage so far. His thick, furry pecs were painfully tight against the shirt and visible between the gaps of stretched fabric between buttons. He took the chance to relieve himself of his shirt and feel up the washboard abs that were gradually building above his stomach. “Oh god yes…” Isaac whispered before noticing the green light ahead, “Shit… shit… n-need to get home.”

As he pressed the accelerator he could feel the changes sweep across his legs. His slacks braced against his thighs as they ballooned outward. The swelling legs pushed and squeezed Isaac’s hard six inches which ejected another load. The cheap fabric stood no chance against the expanding muscle, tearing and splitting at the seams as the growth traveled downward. His lower legs followed suit and made short work of the pants, revealing limbs far more muscular than they had been minutes ago while his flat rear plumped up thicker and rounder against the seat cushion.

Isaac wasn’t far from home now. “Oh god,” he moaned as his feet began to enlarge within his shoes. He turned sharply into his driveway and stopped the car hard. He wasted no time dashing flounderingly into his home, hoping no-one saw his shirtless, half-transformed body from the street. He quickly removed the unbearably tight footwear from his feet with a sigh of relief and stripped off what remained of his shirt. He tugged the split and torn slacks and underwear down his long, thick legs and kicked them onto the floor. Long, meaty feet burst through the strained material, causing Isaac to fall onto all fours with a loud bellow. Cum unloaded onto the floor as his socks exploded, the size nine-and-a-halves pushing past size twelve into thirteen, then fourteen.

The next part was always Isaac’s favorite. His six-inch erection trembled as it pushed further out of his body. “Ah! Fuck!” he screamed as it bobbed in the air, pulsing longer and thicker with every passing moment. His cries of joy deepened over the coming seconds while his head reshaped into a more masculine appearance. His plain, average features became angular and broad. His smile was straighter, whiter, and devilishly handsome. Brown eyes shifted to blue and his dark brown hair lightened in tone while a blond stubble dotted his sharpening jawline.

Isaac growled, pumping the air with his now large cock as it continued its growth. With the end nearing, the throbbing member surged to ten inches, veins rippling down the shaft which thickened and stretched. The young man roared in rapture as the head of his pole swelled to match, shooting load after load as his final transformation came to a close.

Still hazy in the afterglow, the studly Isaac rose to his feet, dizzy and stumbling. “I… no, no,” he stammered to himself, feeling the urge to find a sexual partner rising already, “N… Y-yeah… Yeah, fuck yeah… Guys should be thanking me for passing this on!”

Isaac smirked as he thought about how to spread his gift…

Gabe stared in disbelief at his reflection in the mirror. He couldn't believe the transformation he saw. Just that morning he had been a twink, but now he was a bona fide twunk. His body had taken on a completely new shape—curves and bulges in all the right places. Before visiting this gym, Gabe had heard the rumors about it, but it wasn't until he stepped through the doors that he truly believed them to be true; after just one session, his body had been totally transformed.

He flexed his veiny biceps and bounced his heavy muscle tits up and down, feeling the hard new muscles beneath his skin; He was bigger and stronger than ever before. He ran his hands over his abs and felt their sleekness, and smiled at the light dusting of hair that now covered his lower stomach. He absently raised a hand to his face. Now, his strong jaw and prominent cheekbones were lightly framed with a soft and scruffy-looking beard. He smiled confidently at himself, feeling a newfound sense of pride swell inside him.

Look at these muscles! You probably think that I spend all my time in the gym, making sure that I eat healthily and never have a cheat day, but I have never stepped inside a gym in my life, let alone lifted a weight. I was a scientist and spent most of my time in the lab researching parallel universes.

I actually discovered that they exist, although I haven’t told anyone, not yet anyway. I’ve travelled to a few, and they’re all different in their own ways. Theres a universe were women are the dominant gender, another where people age backwards, and one where eating fast food actually made you gain muscle and going to they gym made you fat, that was my favourite. 

I had spent several weeks in that universe eating all kid of fast food, it was weird watching my muscles grown larger and larger, but even weirder was peoples reactions. In this universe muscles were treated the way we treat fatness, morbidly obese guys covered all the magazines and were seen as the ideal body.

This was going to be my last meal here, as soon as I’m done with this drink, I’ll be heading back to my own universe. I might come back every once and a while, maybe with a few friends, and we might even make a detour to the universe were the majority of the world is gay. Who knows, 

—-

They say that the cleverest people are often also the craziest. Well, that was certainly true for Dr Griffiths. He was the researcher no one wanted to work with, and anyone assigned to him usually quit within a fortnight. He was to be avoided in the cafeteria, sidestepped in the halls and generally not to be associated with. Of course rumours sprang up about hum, ranging from his being an illegitimate brother of one of the board members to him being a spy to him being sent by aliens to study humans. I had only seen him a few times, marked by his shuffling walk, his tendency to mumble to himself, and that off kilter look in his eyes, as if he were just about to do something devastating. The other professors seemed to wonder why he still received funding from the college, since he hadn’t submitted any papers in the last three years. Naturally this was the source of even more rumours, but the most widely accepted was that he was researching something top secret for the government, so he couldn’t be let off by the college.

Now, I wasn’t the sort to go investigating these rumours, so they didn’t really affect me. Well, that was until sophomore year of college. For one of our sophomore projects, we were required to work with (well, really work for) one of the researchers or professors in the department. We were supposed to submit a form which ranked them by which ones we wanted to work with the most. I had completely forgotten that this project even existed and so didn’t even submit a form. What that meant was that I’d be randomly assigned one of the remaining professors to work with. It was just my luck that an email came through in rush week, telling me that I’d been paired with Dr Griffiths. The sophomores last year had warned us that this would happen, and if we got paired with a researcher we didn’t like, we could end up in hell for that semester. And naturally they warned us to make sure we weren’t paired with Dr Griffiths. Last year, his three students all quit within a month. One of them just managed to pass the project by doing a disgusting amount of work by himself while the other two failed that project, worth a good 20% of our sophomore grade. One of those two actually failed the year, but that was mainly due to her not showing up to four of her final exams.

So that was on my mind that Wednesday morning as I walked to Dr Griffith’s lab. It was in a section of the department that I’d never been to before and had to check the map to find. I found it soon enough, an inconspicuous blue door, identical to all the others around it, save for a name tag that read ‘DR L. GRIFFITHS-.” The space where the title of his research should have been was left blank. I wondered about the government rumour before knocking on the door.

“Go away!” came a voice from within, startling me.

“It’s your sophomore! For the project?” I shouted back.

There was a pause. “I guess you’d better come in then.”

I heard him grumbling to himself as he unlocked the door. The door slid opened and I pulled it walked inside. The room was a mess, with bookcases, filing cabinets and desks shoved to one side of the room. The only things saved from the treatment were a computer placed on a desk, a single filing cabinet, a single whiteboard and a large contraption that took up the rest of the space. It was circular in construction, with two vertical metal plates opposite each other, He had retreated to the other side of the room and was working on the machine.

“Umm, so what does this do?” I asked.

“Don’t touch it!” he yelled, not looking up from his work.

He finished what he was doing and finally looked up at me. He looked different to how people described him, but I guess that’s what happens when rumours get out of hand. In fact, he looked like he used to be very handsome. but had since let himself go, developing a small beer belly. His unshaven face and messy hair contributed to this, giving him that almost quintessential mad scientist look. He took off his lab coat and threw it on the floor. Grabbing a pair of scissors, he cut off a sizeable chunk of his hair and placed it on the weighing scale. Unsatisfied, he cut off another and added it to the pile, then nodded abruptly. He searched around frantically until he found a piece of string and tied all the hair into a lock. He shoved the lock into my hands and before I had time to react, he was already messing with his computer.

“What are you doing?” I asked, confused. A whirring sound came from the machine and he smiled and clapped his hands.

“We’re back baby!” he yelled, putting on some swimming goggles and retrieving his lab coat.

“Hey, what are…”

“No time to fully explain but I’ll be back in about two hours. You can’t leave the room while I’m gone, and you must keep my hair on your person. Got it? I know this seems strange, but this is an experiment and I really need you to keep all the variables the same by doing exactly as I say. So don’t leave the room and keep the hair on your person, probably in your pocket. I’ll be back in two-ish hours.” He stepped into the centre of the machine.

“Now, if you could do me a favour and hit enter on the keyboard.”

I did as I was told, still very confused at what he was doing. The whirring increased and the two metal plates began to heat up, emitting a reddish glow. I averted my eyes as the glow increased. Suddenly the whirring stopped, and I looked back. He had vanished, leaving nothing in his wake. I checked all around the room, the machine and even the pile of junk but he wasn’t there. He couldn’t have snuck out of the door as I was standing in front of it the whole time. His hair in my hand snapped me back to reality. I slid it into my pocket, remembering his instructions. I didn’t know what he was doing but I sure as hell wasn’t going to give him any reason to fail me. I sat down and opened my laptop, setting a timer for two hours. At least I’d be able to catch up on some of the lectures I’d already missed.

Two hours later, not a single piece of work had been done. I’d had the great idea to log onto YouTube and lost the two hours faster than should be possible. I was only alerted by the timer going off on my laptop. He still wasn’t back yet. Was this a prank? A test to see how I’d do? Well, I’d already gone this long, I wasn’t going to give in now. I got up and went to look at the machine. It looked complex but was obviously hand built. I stepped onto the machine and stood in its centre, looking at the metal plates. I felt heat on my skin as I noticed the plates heating up. I quickly dived off the machine as the plates glowed just as brightly as they had done previously. When I looked back, a guy around my age stood in the centre of the machine. He took off his swim goggles and lab coat and tossed them to the side. He glanced around the room and his eyes fell on me. They squinted before widening in realisation.

“Oh, you must be my sophomore!” he jumped over to me and hugged me. He took a step back and smiled at me. He was handsome, no doubt, but a little on the skinny side. I kept thinking that I’d seen his face before until it hit me.

“Dr. Griffiths?” I asked, in disbelief.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he grinned again, “but you can call me Leonard.”

“But how…you were…older…”

“Let me explain. You’ve heard of parallel universes, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Well they exist. There are a lot of them but I’ve only been to six so far. In the one I just came back from, people age backwards compared to our universe.”

“But you were gone for like, two hours, and now you’re what, like half your age?”

“20 years 4 hours and 16 minutes younger, meaning I’m now 21 years 3 moths and 12 days old. Give or take a few days.”

“How…”

“Well, time moves differently in parallel universes, some slower compared to ours, some faster. In the universe I went to, one…hour? Wait, this’ll become too confusing. Okay, we’ll call this universe, the one we started in, the base universe. That means one hour in this universe is one base hour. Got it?”

“I guess…”

“So, one base hour is equivalent to 10 years 1 hour and 58 minutes in the age reversal universe. That means time travels relatively faster over there. But in some universes, it travels relatively slower. Like in the universe where women are the dominant gender, one base hour is equal to 40 minutes and 13 seconds, give or take a few seconds.”

“Give or take a few seconds?”

“I mean, it’s inter-universe travel, it’s not going to divide neatly.”

“So, let me get this straight. There are parallel universes.”

“Yes.”

“And you just went to one to age backwards and become younger.”

“Yes.”

“And I remember the previous version of you.”

“Yes.”

“How does that work without creating a time paradox?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. Usually the universe resets itself and everyone can only recognise you as you are after the transformation. It’s like history gets completely rewritten with the new you. The strange thing was, my dog kept recognising me, no matter what happened. He has a habit of eating strands of my hair that he finds lying around so I though it might be something to do with that. I didn’t know exactly how much hair was needed but evidently, a gram seems to do the trick.”

“So, no one else remembers you as you were but me?”

“Precisely. Go and ask anyone and they’ll know me as this young recluse of a researcher who acts way older than he is, making all the other researchers hate him for getting tenured so young. People would have probably made up a rumour as to why that happened.” He chuckled to himself.

“So what I am helping you with if you’ve already made your discovery?”

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” he said abruptly. “Can you imagine what the government would do if they got hold of this?”

I though to myself. It definitely wouldn’t be good.

“What I need now,” he continued, “is for you to come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

He smiled, “Does it matter? You’re far too curious to refuse anywhere I tell you we’re going.” He walked over to his computer and restarted the sequence. He reached into a drawer and retrieved a pair of swim goggles.

“Throw my hair in the trash and put on a lab coat,”

I did as I was told. He handed me the goggles and I put them on.

“Brace yourself.” He smiled. The plates heated up as we stood in the centre of the machine. I felt myself getting hotter and hotter and I closed my eyes to shield from the glare. The machine grew louder and louder, then silence. I opened my eyes to see pitch black. Suddenly the whirring returned, as did the light and the heat. I closed my eyes again until I felt myself cooling and heard the whirring reside. I opened my eyes again and we were back in the lab, as messy as it had been before. He jumped off the machine and wrote something down in a notebook.

“What are you writing?” I asked, taking off my lab coat and goggles.

“The time and date we got her. And the time and date we left.”

“Where is here, exactly?”

“You’ll see.” He smiled and took off his lab coat too. He opened the door to the lab, and we walked out. He locked it behind him, and we walked through the college. I glanced at everyone we passed, trying to figure out the difference in this universe. I stopped when I saw a poster to join the college’s gym membership. Instead of the usual fit people on the poster, they had been replaced with fat people, all sporting bear bellies in their shirtless glory.

“Hey Leonard, come and look at this.” I gestured to the poster.

“Aww, I was taking you to the gym! I thought it’d be a more dramatic reveal that way.”

“So fat people are fit here?”

“It’s not just that, fat is seen as the ideal body type and muscles are treated the way we treat fat and obese people. All the heartthrobs are fat, the losers have muscles, and Mr Olympia is full of morbidly obese dudes, as is the Olympics. What’s more, going to the gym and eating healthy makes you fatter and fatter while doing nothing and eating junk food makes you loose weight and gain muscle!”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Come. Walk with me.”

Sure enough, he was right. As we walked through the town, I could see that a lot of the people were a bit heavier than usual. The billboards and adverts had pictures of fat men and women alike.

“So,” Leonard turned to me and grinned mischievously, “what do you say we get some McDonalds?”

Back in August, I would have told you that renting an apartment a block away from Greek Row was the worst idea ever.  I thought maybe the eye candy would balance out having to deal with the constant noise and partying that happens all the time, but it turns out a good half of them are just here on Daddy’s money.  Or at least the ones that live in the houses on this street.  So many twink-y guys in Sperrys and sweaters.  Good on them for having an aesthetic, I guess, but… it’s not for me in the slightest.

My type is more of the hyper-athletic bro, the same type that just happens to never give me the time of day.  I know I’m a pretty book-ish guy, but it’s not like I’ve let my body completely go to shit.  Surely there’s an athletic guy out there who does the same for his brain?  Well, if there is, I sure as hell can’t find him.  Bros only want other bros.

But now that I’ve met Calvin, I’m glad to have an apartment nearby.  Not that Calvin is one of the frat boys I’ve been lusting after– no, Calvin is a warlock that I discovered on Fiverr.  At least, he says he’s a Warlock, anyway.  I don’t know the difference between a warlock or a wizard or a mage, and I don’t really care.  For $3,000 he can cast a deep sleep spell so that he can swap my body with the frat bro of my choice.  Which… is pretty damn steep.  But, if I can find a way to get one of them alone and restrained, the actual body swapping part is only $200.

And there’s where the End of the Year Party comes into play.  The weekend after Finals Week is a no-holds-barred kegger of epic proportions.  And luckily for me, it’s tradition that anyone who passes out gets duct-taped to the wall next to the sidewalk that leads to campus.  I’ve been walking up and down that path every half-hour since ten pm, eagerly hoping that one of my choices would be found suspended, and at 2 am it finally happened.  There was Phillip, in all his muscular glory.  I couldn’t believe my luck– he had been my first choice.  Calvin couldn’t guarantee that I could access my new body’s memories for the first few days, and I had known Phillip back in High School– it would be easy for me to pretend to be him.  Just act like a cocky jerk, and that was half the battle.

“I’ve made my decision,” I said, walking into Calvin’s house holding $200 from the ATM and a case of red bull.  I’d told him about my plan to use the passed-out duct-taping to circumvent the need for a $3,000 sleep spell, and he had agreed to it.

Calvin flipped through the bills before slipping them in his pocket.  “All present and accounted for, fair enough.  Don’t forget to come back tomorrow afternoon so that I can make it permanent.  So, do I know which body I’ll be putting you into?  You won’t be conscious for that part of the spell,” he added, seeing my confusion.  He started walking toward his basement, so I started following after him.  “The first step involves me putting your soul into a jar, that’s the part which is expensive and time-consuming.  After that, it’s just a matter of finding a body which can’t fight back so that the soul in the jar can be swapped out.”

I nodded in understanding.  “I want Phillip’s body,” I said, climbing onto the stone alter that Calvin was pointing at.  The basement was inexplicably eerie, with damp stone and candlelight that failed to fully illuminate all of the jars on the shelves.  This was starting to feel like a bad idea, but I had gone too far to turn back now.  Calvin placed the jar at my lips, and I found myself overcome with drowsiness.

When I woke up, I found myself taped to a cement wall.  The anticipation was brutal, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to confirm much of anything until some of the brothers came back around in the morning to pull everyone down.  Sure enough, when I pulled up the front camera on my phone, I found Phillip’s face staring back at me.  The casual, mess hair… the strong jawline… I was starting to get erect just thinking about it.  Phillip wasn’t quite my type… but with this chest and these shoulders, I would have no issues attracting my type.

Presumably something about the magic that Calvin had cast also allowed me to bypass the hangover that Phillip would have otherwise earned, because I felt totally fine.  Calvin warned me it might take a few days before I gained all of Phillip’s memories, and he certainly had not exaggerated.  I had no idea which room was mine… but I knew what kind of car I drove, and where I had parked it.  I figured I would just drive around for a few hours before meeting back up with Calvin, but… seeing the gym bag in my back seat gave me a new idea.

It was the first time I had ever been inside of a gym before, but thankfully it was mostly empty on a Saturday morning, meaning that no one was around to watch me be clueless around some of these machines.  Still, the feeling of power, the thrill of lifting weights that had been well outside of my capabilities the day before… I never understood why people enjoyed the gym before, but I had to admit, I was starting to see the appeal.

By the time my workout was over, I had regained enough memories to know which room in the house was mine, even if I didn’t remember my roommate yet.  A quick shower, a few rounds of CS:GO, and then it was time for me to meet up with Calvin again so that he could finish the magic.  “I’m finishing up lunch, come on over” he texted.

“Is that… why is my old body wearing a tuxedo?” I asked, staring at the scene in front of me.

“Does it matter?” Calvin asked, giving me a smug grin as he popped a piece of potato into his mouth.  “It’s not like you’re using it anymore.  Soulless bodies make for great servants– keeping your old body is part of why the spell was so cheap for you.  I have to say, you’re a much better cook than I thought you would be.  I don’t think I’ll have to do much tweaking there.  Now, your cleaning skills, that will take me a few spells to get fixed.  But your old body and I, we have all the time in the world.”

I clenched my fist, trying to sort through the emotions that were swimming through my head.  “But if… if I’m in this body, and that body has no soul… then where did Phillip end up?”

Calvin smiled.  “Phillip is still trapped in this jar.”  He pointed at the glass jar on the other side of the table, that was, apparently, filled with a human soul.  “Nature abhors a vacuum.  A soul in someone else’s body, nature doesn’t like.  Two souls in each other’s bodies?  Nature hates that more.  If you open that jar, his soul will go back to his body, and your soul will go back to yours.  The only way you can keep your new body is if Phillip stays in the jar.  The jar is yours to keep, by the way,” Calvin said, wiping his lip with a napkin.  “I don’t need to cast a final spell or anything, I just need for you to take the jar with you.  If you decide you want to switch back, you have one week to open the jar, and nature will take care of the rest.  After that, his soul will have spent too long outside of a body, and it will evaporate.”

“I… I didn’t mean for him to…” I paused, considering the moral dilemma for the first time.  I had never actually thought about what would happen to Phillip once I stole his body.  And, I had to admit… the more I thought about it, and the more I remembered how much of a dick Phillip had been… the less I cared.  On some level, I think I knew exactly what I was doing.  I looked down at my chest and my arms, giving my new muscles a quick flex.  Yes, this was exactly what I had paid for.  This was mine, now.

Dedicated to my valentine, the lovely @mergeman​

———————————————–

“You still sure you want to do this?” Brad texted.  Finn had already spent most of the bus ride on his phone, so he’d already finished reading the message by the time his text notification had finished chiming.  “It’s okay if you get cold feet.  I won’t be offended. ;) I promise!”

Finn couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  “sounds like ur the one w cold feet” he shot back.  “i already told u were doin this”  Granted, he would have been lying if he’d said that he had no fear… but Finn had worked through all of that hesitation when he purchased the bus ticket.  He’d spent far too much time and money on this offer only to back out now.

Brad was offering $150,000 to a like-minded young soul who was willing to merge with him.  The man was pushing 60, and was hoping to absorb enough youth to try life over again.  For his part, Finn was sick of scraping by from paycheck to paycheck, and if that meant giving up 20 years of his life, well… at least he was being reimbursed for it.  Five years of his current job’s wages was no joke, and the funds would go a long way towards buying a reliable car, and maybe even a down payment on a house.

And anyway, it wasn’t like he was going to disappear.  Rather than opting for the type of merge that put two men into one body, this would be one of the more experimental versions where two people combine all of their traits, and each person becomes the average value.  Finn stepped off the bus and started looking around the agreed-upon meeting place to see if the other man was here.

“Guess I’ll tell my bank not to stop that money transfer.  I really didn’t think you were going to show up, but here you are.”  He watched as an older gentleman strolled up to him, looking very out of place in dark navy sweats.  More impressive was the raven black hair, which looked very out of place given his wrinkled skin and frail figure.  “What, you’ve never seen a man desperately cling to youth with hair dye before?” he asked, clearly used to the stares.  “We can’t all have vibrant hair color, Finley.”

“I’m used to your kind trying to over-compensate with fancy cars,” Finn admitted, unable to pull his eyes away from the older man’s thick beard.  “And my name is Finn.  Respect my name, and I’ll respect yours.  Bradford.”

Brad threw his head back in raucous laughter.  “Oh yes, you are an excellent choice.  Come here!”  Brad pulled him in close, and started to kiss him full on the lips.  It took Finn a few moments to realize that the odd sensation in his mouth was Brad’s tongue, and a few more moments to realize that the kiss was how Brad was planning to perform the merge.  His height was one of the first things to go– he no longer needed to bend down to maintain contact– and his skin felt a bit stiff as it tightened with age.  But it was the beard that really felt odd.

Brad’s facial hair crept onto Finn’s chin and worked its way up his sideburns like some sort of crawling ooze, while a smaller tendril grew up toward his nose to form a mustache.  The sudden itch of new hair under his nose was a bit much, and Finn briefly opened his eyes.  The man in front of him was clearly a few decades younger, which could only mean he was now a few decades older.

“Just a bit more,” Brad said, panting for breath.  “We need to even out our hair color, and I think our weight is still a bit uneven.  Once we’re done we can stop by the courthouse and file all the paperwork.”  Finn nodded in understanding, and leaned back in for another kiss.

———————————————–

“Is it normal for hair dye to completely vanish when a merge has finished?” Brad asked, as they sat in front of a mirror in the lobby of the County Recorder Clerk.  “Our hair should be a combination of the two inputs, but it’s like your red hair and my former brown hair mixed together, rather than the deep black I was dyeing it to be once it started to go gray.”

Finn just shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t know why you’re asking me.  You were my first merge.  I didn’t even really register that this was a technology that existed until you reached out to me.  I’m just glad we just look like twins and not, like… cloned copies of each other.”

“I’m just glad I got to keep my piercings,” Brad said as he absent-mindedly traced the heavy stud with his finger.  “Sorry if you didn’t want to deal with jewelry.  Yours look small enough that it would probably heal shut in a few weeks.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Finn admitted, still getting used to the idea that the man with the thick beard was his new reflection and his new body.  “Do you think they would let us change our names when we register with the state?  I really don’t feel like a Finley anymore.”

“I hope so,” Brad replied, following up with another deep laugh.  “I was planning to change my name to Bradley.  It won’t change my nickname but, it just feels right somehow.  Like our names merged when our bodies did.”

Finn smiled.  “I think you’re right.  Finnegan sounds pretentious and borderline obnoxious, but… I also think that it’s my name, now.”

Kevin was just a few months from his 19th birthday, but unfortunately having a bad combo of weak genes and little to no exercise ended up making him look like a shrimpy 16 year old.

Light brown hair that he lets grow to his chin cause he still hasn't figured out his "look", and mud brown eyes complete the set as it were.

His high school bully, Mitchell would "joke", while shoving him in the nearest locker, that Kevin would make Wally Cox look like Lou Ferrigno.

After Kevin looked up who Wally Cox is, (AN: the original voice actor of Underdog) he got his revenge by spreading a rumor that Mitchell likes to wear pink underwear.

The stay at the hospital was still worth it. Most of the cheerleaders visited him, feeling sorry for the nice wimp who's good at tutoring, and to talk about how Mitchell is such a jerk and is being transferred to another school.

His parents on the other hand...hoo boy. They made it clear that doing petty acts like that would get him in deeper trouble or worse injuries unless he wises up.

So Kevin made a private vow to follow the Golden Rule and to not act all ass-holey like the Mitchells of the world.

Having graduated with minimum fuss, Kevin decided to get a job for about a year or two before trying college. And hopefully by then, he'll look like his proper age and be taken more seriously.

So far, it's not been going well. He got a job cleaning in a motel, which didn't bother him all things considered, but it was how his boss tried to give him below minimum-wage on account of him being "a minor". It took a bit of work to prove it, calling his doctor was sooo embarrassing, but Kevin convinced the boss that he is legal age and deserves the full pay amount per hour.

Eight months later.

"Ugh." Kevin winces as he pulls someone's bra from behind the side table. "Why do they always forget these things after they check out?! If it's not bottles, or condoms, it's these..." He blushes as he keeps muttering to himself. "and seriously, why do they always buy these big ones? I saw her as she left, she was totally packing socks in there." He takes the cart and moves to the next room.

While this really isn't supposed to be that kind of motel, being across the street from a popular bar ended up having drunks, one-night stands, and drunken one-night stands be the main customer base. Still, there would sometimes be more normal people checking in at times.

Not this time, though.

Kevin knocked on the door at the end of landing just before one reaches the laundry/store room. "Cleaning service! It's after checkout time so I need to get in."

"Just a sec." A woman's voice filtered thru the door.

Dayum. That voice sounded like sex personified! Kevin had to readjust his coveralls as he got halfway hard just from hearing that.

'Don't make anything of this.' Kevin mentally reminds himself. 'The voice never fits the face. No way she's gonna loo-duuuuuu...'

The door opens to reveal that, yep. The face did fit the voice. And the body exceeded expectations.

She had an exotic, dark-tanned look that implies northeast Africa or Middle-eastern. Gorgeous hourglass figure in a turquoise, barely reaching the knees, dress that almost looks painted on. Matching Go-Go style boots. Black hair done up in a braided bun, grey eyes that mesmerized and cupid's bow lips that would make any straight man or gay woman to immediately think dirty thoughts.

She smiles, which makes Kevin mentally stagger and get harder than he ever did since puberty kicked in.

"Thank you for waiting. I hope I didn't make too much of a mess." She walks off towards the lobby.

uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh...

Kevin smacks his cheek to snap out of it. And while taking deep breaths to control the pain from below his waist, Kevin starts his routine of changing the bed sheets and praying that there won't be any questionable stain this time.

As he pulls the covers back, a wallet flops out of one of the folds.

"Aw, crud." Kevin grabs it and rushes to the lobby as fast as he can, wincing all the way.

He catches sight of her halfway out the doors. "MISS!"

She turns and he will swear for the rest for his life, that she moved in slow-mo with one of those shimmery Hollywood lens effects framing her. A ringlet tickling her cheek from the movement.

He nearly trips, feeling a SLAM of arousal hit his entire body, if such a thing is possible.

"yes?" She patiently asks. No doubt she's used to men of all ages making idiots of themselves in her presence.

"wallet." He wheezes as he holds it out to her while using the other hand to brace himself against the wall.

She takes it and smiles even more radiantly than before. "How good of you. And with such a miserable job, the fact you weren't once tempted to keep my cash and credit cards is even more admirable."

"Huh?"

She places a hand on his chest. Her golden-painted nails carefully gripping the denim. She murmurs something foreign and then lets go. "You have been rewarded. Go live your new life."

And with that enigmatic speech and a blinding smile, she leaves.

"...the Hell was that?" Kevin shakes his head and walks back to the room to finish. He's gotta clean all the rooms on that floor before his shift ends.

Forty minutes later, Kevin wheels the cart into the laundry/store room and writes his time on the work clipboard, hanging on the wall.

"uhh..." He wipes his face with his sleeve.

He's been feeling way too warm since that sex goddess touched him. What if he's coming down with something? If he has to take a sick day, the boss will just fire him and hire someone even more desperate.

He splashes some cold water on his face. After drying, he opens his locker to get his clothes. "The Hell?!"

Instead of his clothes, someone replaced them with a black shirt and jeans several sizes larger.

"Who did this crap?! I'l-AAARGH" He doubles over as the heat reaches scorching temperatures in his gut. Despite the pain, he manages to stay on his feet.

"wha..." He groans as the heat pulses again. It seems to reach every bit of his body.

throb throb throb throb

He tries to take deep breaths, but his body won't stop shaking. "someone help me!" He tries to call out, but there's no one within hearing range.

throb throb throb throb throb

With his eyes clenched tight, Kevin doesn't see that he's growing taller. Two inches. Another two inches. Going up till he's around 6'5. His overalls are tight and the leg cuffs are now brushing against his shins. His wrist cuffs are closer to his elbows then his wrists.

Then the pain starts to shift. it's still scorching, but it begins to feel...good. Like watching a really great porn good. And the heat feels like the burn Kevin felt the one time he tried a gym out and overdid it.

Soaked in sweat, Kevin pants and finds the strength to straighten up. Then he looks at his arm. "wha?"

The denim sleeve grows tighter. His arm is swelling. With muscle.

His hand grows till it's disproportionate to his body. Then his forearm, with veins sticking out all over the skin, his upper arm, till his shoulder is nearly dodgeball size. The sleeve creaks from barely keeping it together.

Kevin breathes harder as his other arm soon follows in size and strength. He stares at the mirror over the sink.

Both arms look like they're thicker than his thighs. It's almost cartoonish how over-sized they are. But on the other hand...

"This is hot!" Kevin grins.

The growing feels so good and his arms are massive. His sleeves are in danger of either cutting off his circulation or breaking apart.

He tries that double bicep pose he's seen on the internet and the sleeves just disintegrate into rags with a loud shhrripp sound!

"HOLY CRAP!!"

Before he can savor tearing his uniform sleeves to pieces, he feels the heat build in his chest. He looks down.

throbs throbs throbs throbs throbs

The top button breaks off with a ping and flies off somewhere. Then the second one.

"Don't stop." Kevin pants as he sees his chest slowly block his view to his feet. "Bigger. Please, keep going! This is so effin hot!"

One button ricochets off the mirror with a loud ptink! His pecs jut out more and more, growing into solid muscles with a deeply defined crevice in between till they could give 70s era Schwarzenegger a run for his trophies.

Enough buttons broke off to show his bare chest down to the first set of carved-in abs.

"I GOT ABS!" He shouts in delight.

He moves his fingers over them. A 6-pack that feels like it's made of marble. And damn, touching them feels soo good!

By now, Kevin's shaft was rock hard and throbbing in time to the heat that's transforming his body. He tries to unbutton the remaining buttons but his fingers are too large and he's having trouble seeing his waist in the mirror as it's chest high.

"Crud." He just grabs his crotch thru the denim and starts massaging. "uuuuuhhhhhhhhh"

Kevin was never one for masturbating, whenever he watched porn, he felt too self-conscious about his 5' shaft. But heck with that, he's gotta keep this sensation going!

Though it was tricky, with his thick arms reaching around his massive chest, he manages to find the right rhythm and grows more used to working his new limbs. "uuuhhh." He moans and slurs in a haze. "Thas...it's feelin' bigger..."

His shaft does very slowly, compared to the rest of his body, grow larger in length and girth. Thankfully, Kevin's in no hurry, it feels so damn good to feel his member grow with each rub and grip.

As he keeps touching himself, his waist contracts just a pinch but all the lingering fat converts into raw muscle to support his gigantic upper half.

Then the heat moves downward to his increasing ecstasy.

He shouts some really filthy words as his rear grows till he looks like he's practically got bowling balls in his pants and just as hard. His briefs barely stay on, only so many threads keeping the structural integrity intact, and the tightness threatens to damage his groin but he doesn't care.

His thighs turn as thick as his old waist size and force him to widen his stance, his calves achieve that perfect large diamond shape. The legs of his coveralls rips to shreds. His feet break thru his tatty sneakers with ease.

Kevin stomps on each foot to shake off the remains and to get used to his new posture. He steps back a pace to better examine himself in the mirror while still moving his hand over his groin, and moaning from the pleasure.

His coveralls are nothing more than shredded rags barely keeping him from being completely naked. Despite his small head and still too-youthful look, his body looks like a urban Tarzan.

Then it happens.

As he has been massaging his shaft almost non-stop since the changes began, Kevin feels the pressure build and build and all the heat in his entire body converge to the one organ.

He screams as his climax hits him as powerful as a bullet hitting glass. The geyser of his seed destroys his briefs and the remains of his coveralls till he's naked and shooting at the mirror, causing minute cracks.

THROB THROB THROB THROB THROB THROB

Unaware of anything but raw joy and liquid fire erupting from his tool, Kevin doesn't feel the final changes occurring. His head grows more in proportion to his giant body and his features turning to look more early-20s-ish, his hair turning ink-black and shifting to give a almost buzz-cut style. His eye color turns black as well. Facial hair grows over his upper lip, and chin and jawline. His complexion giving off a attractive Latino vibe.

The pounding heat keeps him going several seconds longer than all of his past climaxes combined. And far more amazing. After his 12th or 14th stream, he finally feels like he's running out.

Bracing his hands on his knees, Kevin rests his chin on his pecs and focuses only on deep breaths. "...holy...shit!"

The only sounds in the room besides his breathing, is the drip, drip of his seed from the mirror and overflowed sink.

'I need to see.' He takes one of the biggest clean towels and works on wiping the mirror until it's clean enough to suit him. He steps back far enough so only his waist and down are visible.

"SHIT!"

His shaft is 10 inches long and still halfway hard and nearly as round as a pop can. Exhausted beyond measure, Kevin forces himself to not touch and to focus on something else.

His new clothes.

Kevin examines them better now that he's getting more used to moving in this Super-Atlas body. The underwear are basically silky speedos but they fit perfectly and keep his shaft in place without constricting. He wiggles a little, enjoying the sensation of silk whisper over his shaft. Regular jeans but somehow the denim feels smooth against his skin. He makes himself think of Mitchell to stop getting hard again. Though the thought of running into Mitchell in his new body makes him grin an evil grin.

Socks. Shoes. Nothing extraordinary other being of higher quality then his usual clothing budget.

As he dresses, Kevin doesn't notice that his torn stained clothes, and the mess on the mirror and sink have disappeared.

He puts the black shirt on and admires in the mirror that the deep collar gives him awesome "he-vage". He flexes and poses for a few minutes, watching his shirt get tight in places, feeling his jeans move against his rear cheeks, feeling the silk caresses his member.

Sucking in a breath, Kevin splashes cool water against his face. He really doesn't have the strength to climax again. Especially if it's gonna be as insane-explosive as before. It'll be fun to find out when he gets home.

He checks the rest of his locker for his personal effects. His watch is now the kind that's expensive heavy-duty, can take a lot of punishment, watch. And the latest iPhone model, but it still has all of his games and music.

And finally his wallet.

'Oh crap. I don't look anything like me! How am I gonna explain this to Mom and Dad?!'

But he relaxes as he looks over the contents. He's got a driver's license, still the same age though now he looks older, which is awesome, and a pic of his new face and in defiance of DMV tradition, his picture flatters him.

"I got a car!" He fist pumps. His key ring shows it's a Ford Ranger. "SWEET!"

His photo of him with his parents last Christmas shows him in his new body dwarfing his parents with his arms around their shoulders. "Huh."

And according to the remaining stuff in his wallet, he now works at the expensive car restoring place downtown.

Knowledge of cars, engines of various brands and models, and expertise to handle older, fancy cars floods his brain and he stumbles for a second. "whoa..."

And Kevin smiles and gives a silent thank you to that gorgeous woman wherever she is.

Once he's got everything he needs in place, Kevin faces the mirror for one last pose. "You are one hot stud!" Grabbing his phone, he takes a selfie.

With his latest paycheck deposited in the bank yesterday, Kevin decides to celebrate by heading to that bar across the street.

Sipping his beer and studying the ladies from his barside seat, Kevin notices a pretty Asian lady.

She notices him and smiles. She motions for him to join her at her table.

As he walks over, Kevin vows to do a lot more good deeds per week.

Who knows what could happen next time?

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