Man up!

Then came the sudden pressure between his legs, as his cock filled out, with two weighted balls churning with seed behind it. Mac knew his cock wasn’t even hard, it just hung heavy, but it was more packed than anything he’d seen in his life. A pump of his butt gave his glutes the workout they needed to firm out to fruition. The hat and necklace appeared out of thin air. One second not there, the blink of an eye on his body as if they always belonged there. Mac stared at himself in the mirror. He was older. Even his thoughts were more complex. The strength of a man flowing through his veins. He looked it, he felt it. An older Mac, who still looked like himself but repackaged as a man. He didn’t resemble his father as much as he would have expected. Rather, he looked more like…Mrs. Derabond’s nephew: Tony.

Mrs. Derabond lived two houses down and would sometimes ask her nephew to do chores for her. He was a young handy man, between his late 20's and early 30’s, often taking on odd jobs for her. Mac’s dad had once asked him for help with their own house and the man agreed to help out. They were close in age and got on well.

There were thoughts and memories swirling around in Mac’s head. Were they new or old? And a different face when his eyes looked in the mirror. 

Images and flashes of his dad and Tony making out, winding up in bed together, multiple times. And this last time Tony was in such a scramble to respond to his aunt, he left his underwear at the side of Mr. Grogan’s bed, accidentally kicking it under on his way out. Mac was in Tony’s underwear, not his father’s.

The bedroom door opened as Mr. Grogan stepped inside, freezing upon seeing the Tony-sized Mac in his room. The father didn’t look angry or scared; he just curiously pointed. “You’re one of Tony’s friends.” he gestured to the hat and necklace. “Did he set this up? I thought he said tomorrow.”

“Set this up, kinda.” Mac said with a gruff voice. “By not picking up his stuff!”  his thoughts finished.

“Shoot, I don’t know how long we have before my son gets up.” His dad poked his head out of the bedroom, then came back in and locked the door. “We should have time.”

“Wha—

His father’s lips were upon Mac’s own. The man’s tongue dove inside Mac’s mouth. Mac’s eyes widened, but his tongue already knew what to do. Tony’s skills had imprinted onto him and were going into action. His dad’s hands landed on Mac’s back and migrated to the small of his waist, pulling him in closer. Their cocks brushed against each other, his dad’s cock inflated rapidly and Mac’s wasn’t far behind. It was like acing dance moves to a song he’d never heard.

Mac had never seen this side of his dad before. There was happy, playful, disappointed, sad, and of course the twins stern & strict. This was ‘ready to fuck’. His dad grabbed the back of the underwear pulling them down, just below the cleft, so he could knead the cheeks like dough out in the open. Mr. Grogan’s hands, still larger than Mac's, easily grabbed a large portion of the glutes. 

No space was left between their bodies. His dad’s chestnut chest hair pressed into Mac’s supple smooth pecs. A tickling sensation as four mounds of muscles competed with each other. Mac’s beard, one he didn't have—couldn’t grow—seconds ago, brushed against his father's beard and enticed Mac for more. This was how his dad and Tony preluded their escapades prior, and yet as Mac and his father existed in the space, something new was taking shape: evolving. His dad’s kiss became more tender, less hasty. The hands on Mac’s ass slid up to wrap around his back. There was no rush for time, they had all the time. Their story wasn’t one of a backed-up single father trying to dump his nut in the neighborhood stud. It was similar, but not close.

They opened their eyes at the same time. Lips parting under his father’s lead. Mr. Grogan looked at the man in front of him; his thought process was clear as day. A kiss that started like Tony’s had morphed into something more: Mac’s own. Mac could sense the change within himself too, but more importantly, he saw the lust in his father’s eyes, not vanish, but giving way to a soft look of love. His dad rested his fingers on Mac’s beard, a gentle placement and brushing. “You know, I didn’t get your name…”

“Dad,” Mac let out.

“Dad?” Mr. Grogan blinked. “Oh, so you’re into that? Okay, no names, I can work with it.” The man nodded his head, as if assuring himself. He walked over to the bed, pulled down his pajamas, kicked them off to the side, then sat down, legs spread, cock hard. He patted his thighs: An invitation. Mac slowly walked over and once close, his dad reached out and dragged him in by the front waistband of his underwear. Then his father yanked the underwear down fully. A beautiful fat cock twitched in the air, balls nested perfectly underneath as heavyweights, surrounded by a brown bush.

Mac saw how his cock was very much like his dad’s, huge lengths. The only difference came from Tony’s contributions. While his dad had decent mass, Mac’s cock looked overfed, girth more akin to a small arm. His dad placed his foot on the gray boxer briefs, which allowed Mac to step out of them. “Come here, son.”  Mac climbed onto his dad’s lap, not speaking. Lips found each other as their tips met. Just two men kissing, and one sex organ meeting its progenitor. Mr. Grogan placed Mac’s hand on their cocks. Warm flesh that felt pleasurably scorching under another’s gaze.

“You got a nice cock boy, looks like Daddy’s.” Mr. Grogan whispered, kissing his way up Mac’s neck. A bead of precum leaked out of his father’s cock and slicked them both. They kissed more. The man gave a small laugh, pulling away for a bit, “Sorry, your dad’s making things a bit messy here.” The precum was still going, Mac’s cock was getting soaked. “Let dad, take care of you.” He had Mac sit up on his knees over his lap. Mr. Grogan opened his mouth and took his son’s length inside him. Mac jerked when his dad’s tongue lashed against the underside of his cockhead. His dad moaned loudly once he got his mouth further down. A real struggle, compared to Tony’s mainly girthy cock. His dad was determined though and kept going swallowing more dick.

“Oh, fuck me dad…” Mac’s legs wobbled.

Mr. Grogan pulled off with a wet plop, “Oh, I intend to, but first.” This time he sank back down and went to the bush, throat opened, as Mac’s hand rested on his head. His dad’s hands gripped Mac’s muscle ass as Mr. Grogan force fed himself Mac’s cock. The sensation beat out every single memory Mac had of his dad sucking Tony. His father had never been this kind of cock hungry before. The man was slurping like his mouth depended on it. Mac watched in total awe of his dad, and when his dad looked up with those warm brown eyes at Mac, he lost it. Like Tony before him, Mac erupted inside of his dad’s throat. His cum escaped in multiple shots, as his dad moaned at the taste.

Making an unknowing show of swallowing his own grandkids all down, Mr. Grogan licked his lips “Fucking delicious.” He pulled off, kissing the cock head. “Look at this fat fuck, baby boy. Not even soft.” He lightly slapped the dick, as Mac writhed, before burying his face in Mac’s pubes and licking his balls. The cum factories were under a glorious attack by their father’s tongue, compelling them for more. They had more to give and then some, having been empowered to mimic Tony’s own big cum-filled stud balls. But Tony wasn’t here right now, and Mac could tell his dad didn’t even mind it.

Mr. Grogan warped his arms around Mac’s waist, before falling back with Mac on top of him, both laughing. An instinctual casual air had taken over, no thoughts about sons, or annoying aunts to run down the clock. Just the feeling that everything they needed was right in that room. When Mr. Grogan was ready; he flipped their bodies, so he was on top, with Mac underneath him. Their bodies ended up pressed together, with Mac’s legs around his dad’s strong build.

“We're really about to do this, son?” Mr. Grogan said for the roleplay as his cock opened Mac’s ass. The man’s furry dad tits bounced for distraction, as his dick made a new home in Mac’s insides. Memories were great and all but actually taking his dad’s cock was another beast entirely.  A member that happy fucked its way inside a new partner. Mr. Grogan’s lips found Mac’s mouth again as they made out. It took Mac a moment to register that alongside the coffee, the other taste in his dad’s mouth was Mac’s cum. The young man’s orgasm built up like a rushing wave as his father thrusted. Each pound, reminding Mac, his dad was about to deposit his brothers inside him. Mr. Grogan hadn’t grabbed a condom; he ALWAYS grabbed a condom. But for this, his mind didn't think about it. Mac saw the realization hit his dad in real time, unable to stop the thrust of his hips. The look sent Mac over the edge and his cock nutted mercilessly between them.

“Look at me, making my son cum like a hose.” he growled, but then stopped as the grip of Mac’s ass began to milk for what it was rightfully owed. Mr. Grogan collapsed, flooding Mac’s insides.

A few minutes later both men laid in bed naked, facing each other. Warm smiles of satisfaction were plastered on their faces. Mac had his hand on his father’s chest, tracing to his arms as Mr. Grogan was stroking Mac's cock, which was hard once again. 

“You and Tony are like the energizer bunnies.” The man laughed as he toyed with the dick, “But I’ll be honest Tony and I never had an experience like that. Usually, it’s a struggle to see how much time we have. I couldn’t think about anything else but getting inside you.” He fondled the plump balls, “Maybe next time, you can get inside me?” He reached over and slapped Mac’s ass before caressing it. Then he slowly got out of bed, “I have to go see if my son’s awake, strange I haven’t heard from him.” Bending over to step into his pajamas, he plucked the gray underwear from the floor.  “Huh, I think Tony has a pair just like these.” He looked up and narrowed his eyes “Is that weird? He’s not your cousin or anything, right?”

“Definitely not,” Mac said, still feeling the cool drool of his unborn siblings out his ass.

“So, now can I get your name?” Mr. Grogan arched an eyebrow tossing the underwear over. Mac caught it in the air.

“My name’s Mac.”

“Mac?” Mr. Grogan leaned forward, “That’s funny, that’s my son’s name.” He began walking to his door then froze. He turned and took another look at the man in his bed. Recognition lit in his Mac’s eyes, no doubt now seeing his own familiar features on the other man, “MAC?!?!”

“Hey…Dad.” The older Mac said, too well fucked to properly emote. He just dangled Tony’s underwear, gesturing if they weren’t his.

—

Keith stood drinking coffee in his home. It was a beautiful morning. Another beautiful morning. And it was going to always be a beautiful morning. That was the memory of the world Keith had crafted in his virtual space. Now he lived there. “Temporarily” the workers at CGI labs would say. After his collapse the company elected to take care of his body, which was currently sitting in a hospital bed somewhere. Due to the malfunction his body refused to download his consciousness, and the company was curious to find out why.

The CGI workers would pop in, a glowing light descending from the sky before a glowing circle would appear on the floor. The same as when anyone else arrived and came down a digital wind tunnel from the sky. Then there were endless questions about how he felt, what he was going to do that day. Keith had to struggle not to say, ‘lay in bed and jerk off’. The company promised they weren’t watching him 24/7, but why did he feel like an animal in a zoo?

A white circle appeared on the floor as Keith rolled his eyes, setting down his coffee. He was prepared to tell the worker to leave but then noticed his brother’s body lower down until it landed solidly in the center of the circle. 

“Dennis!” Keith shouted, waving a hand. His brother was a big gym guy, easily taking up the entirety of the circle. 

His brother opened his eyes, spotting Keith. The piercing blues went up and down, examining, as his brow furrowed. He stepped out of the circle as it disappeared. Dennis had a white dress shirt and pants, with shined black shoes. “Why are you still in your underwear? I told you my family was coming to visit you today at 1pm.” He talked like a teacher trying to scold a student.

“Hey, look I don’t know if you noticed bro, but time passes differently in here.” Keith stated, he could be a brat back if his brother was going to get high and mighty.

Dennis sighed, running a hand down his face, “Why don’t you let CGI Labs, put in a clock that aligns with the actual world or change the weather. My family is sitting at their facility now; I can go do it for you.” 

“Those guys don’t need to be in my head any more than they are. It’s their fault I’m in this mess.” Keith said.

“Keith it’s your own damn fault for—I ‘m not doing this today. Asher and Lina are on their way. Get dressed.” Dennis had a point; their argument about who was the blame had happened countless times. Keith got up, leaning off the cabinets and walked to his bedroom. 

His brother could be such an ass. Their argument was about more than this event. Dennis didn't have an adventurous bone in his body, never thought outside the box. That’s how Dennis ended up working for a dull corporation, Keith couldn’t bother to remember. His brother considered unbuttoning his shirt dressing down. In Keith's mind, Dennis couldn’t sympathize with him because Dennis didn’t have the imagination to even understand how he got into the situation. Ever since they were little, Dennis was all about rigid structure, and there was Keith, the older brother, to shatter those notions. Their parents thought it was an act of a higher power that they were blessed with a boy who didn’t look for danger at every turn.

As a big brother though there was nothing sadder to Keith than a kid who couldn’t even be curious or pretend. He tried hard to break Dennis out of that mentality, trips to junk yards, tree climbing, bike racing, nothing worked. Especially not when Keith always ended up with some kind of injury, from a scrape on the knee to a dislocated shoulder falling from a tree. Dennis had finally bought into his parent’s belief Keith was a daredevil, who always went too far. That’s why even today, Dennis was so up Keith’s ass about this situation. Just another daredevil stunt in his little brother’s eyes.

The digital jeans and shirt slipped on easy enough, as Keith walked back into the main room. Two more circles appeared. His sister-in-law and nephew landed in the center of them before opening their eyes. Linda was a gorgeous woman, black curly hair, tanned mediterranean skin. Dennis had done well for himself. The woman was a real go-getter which came as another surprise. As for his nephew Asher, he reminded Keith a lot of young Dennis: pale, thin, blonde hair. The only difference was Asher didn’t hate Keith as much…at least not yet.

An hour passed as the family sat down and told him what was going on in their lives and the condition of his body. Keith pretended to care for the first half but zoned out during the second. He loved them, but they bothered him every week just to tell him he wasn’t going back in his body: what did they want from him? It felt like Dennis just wanted to punish him. 

Keith watched them all leave, circles forming and glowing under their feet. Dennis barely had any room for his circle. Why did a lawyer need to be sculpted like a body builder anyway? Next was Lina’s, a bit more modest, reasonable space in her circle. Lastly, was Asher’s circle lighting up, tons of space in that one. Dennis closed his eyes and began to ascend, then Linda did the same, shoes disconnecting from the ground. Keith removed his clothes, once the family's eyes were off him. Down to his underwear, a curious idea got into Keith’s head as his brother and sister-in-law disappeared. He jumped onto Asher’s glowing square. “Move over a bit,” He requested, barging in as they both ascended, getting sucked away from that place.

Asher and Keith’s digital forms began to glow into the familiar white light. Their bodies got forced closer together. Keith couldn’t tell if his body was pulling in his nephew’s, or if his form was sinking into Asher. Regardless, their silhouette coalesced into one. As the form found cohesion their minds melded. Keith saw everything Asher once had. Dennis, fighting to ensure CGI Labs gave Keith the utmost care. Sitting by Keith's body in the hospital. The late nights spent crying before his son caught him. Then a memory.

“I thought you didn’t like Uncle Keith,” Asher asked late one night across the dinner table.

“We don’t mesh well; doesn’t mean I don’t like or love him.” Dennis sighed, the sigh of a man who was worn out. “I’m so tired of people thinking that. When we were growing up, I wanted to be just like him but…I wasn’t. I couldn’t do the things he could, and I realized I didn’t want to. I was happy to watch him get excited to do something stupid. But this…” A tear ran down Dennis' face. “He can’t go like this.” Dennis turned to Asher, “Let me tell you a secret that stays between us. Your uncle was my first love. He was always beautiful, stayed beautiful. But I knew that I couldn’t…we couldn’t….”

The memory faded and Keith felt the weight of how badly he’d just fuck up. He shouldn’t have had that memory, but it was severed from the catalog of his own brain. No, not his brain. Asher’s. And he could feel his nephew unintentionally reading his mind in return. There was no separation between them anymore. The reupload process had begun. The lines of code that made up their identity had mashed together.

Meanwhile, Asher’s body prepared to receive back its consciousness as the Upload Helmet glowed. His parents were already getting sorted back in the world as Asher’s body began to convulse. The data it was receiving contained much more information than what it had sent out. A combined code of Asher and his Uncle Keith’s consciousness got crammed into the smaller form. There was too much data for the body to hold. The helmet began to smoke.

“Oh my god!” Linda said, “I’ll go get someone!" She ran out. 

Keith watched, Asher’s eyes now both of theirs, as Dennis leapt into action pulling at the helmet. Asher’s body bucked. Once. Twice. Then his clothes began to rip. It started with his shoulder expanding out as his height grew. Asher’s body was deciphering His uncle Keith's code and incorporating it. An odd sensation, but Keith could feel himself flow through Asher's body and fill it up. Like slipping into a small suit only to have it stretch around you. Only this was a graceful entrance as he started in the mind, got sent through the blood, absorbed by the muscles, then infused into the bones. Asher had muscle dump into him as his chest exploded out of his shirt. Heavy pecs with dark brown nipples. His shoulders were given no reprieve having to supply new power to his arms. Biceps and forearms ready to smash heads emerge. This wasn't a simple implementation and execution of Keith’s code; Asher’s body was utilizing it for improvement. In the same way their minds had joined, Asher's physical body was becoming a merger of the two. When his thighs exploded out of his small pants that’s when Dennis fell back on his ass. Within seconds Asher’s body had changed into a muscled beast.

“Son?” Dennis stood up, watching the body catch its breath. Asher’s underwear shifted from boxers into a familiar white. Keith’s code was affecting the last thing on Asher’s body, rewriting inorganic material. 

“Son, you okay?” Dennis stepped closer. The smoking from the helmet stopped.

Keith backed up, as if there was an instinctual way Dennis would know what he did. He stepped back like Asher fearing a punishment from his dad.

He watched Dennis’ eyes take in his new form, how it lingered on his chest and down the torso until it rested at his ass. There was a look in Dennis' eyes that revealed he pieced together what happened. He had grown up under Keith enough to recognize his older brother’s features reused. Slowly, Dennis walked over removing the helmet. Asher’s face was older, matured, like his uncle Keith's. No more hesitating, Dennis kissed his son, his brother, whoever. Their lips met again and again, as Dennis wrapped his around Asher’s body pulling him closer.

—

Asher’s sudden growth was linked to yet another malfunction of the CGI Labs’ Upload Helmet. Then came the disappearance of Keith’s consciousness off his private server. Without so much of a second thought the company simply uploaded a copy of Keith into his body and tried to pass it off as the original. There was something off about the CGI Labs. They had a twisted excitement trying to uncover Asher’s mishap. When they found out the original Keith had merged with Asher during the reuploaded process, the company was happier than ever to shill out money. CGI Labs. had long been transforming people into others, but merging their consciousness was a new feat.

For the duplicate Keith it was strange waking up, to find his nephew as a massive hulking beast. Not to mention, having every single last one of his memories. Then to be told he was an installed duplicate, was even more upsetting. 

Lina was shocked to say the least. Her son was, in a manner of speaking, older than her. She never quite got over coming back into the room with workers to find her son’s body gone and a stranger in his place. The Stewart men didn’t have the heart to explain the intricacies of what happened to Asher and Keith. It was better to let her think duplicate Keith was the real one. 

As for the…Stewart brothers? Father and son? Things were certainly different. Dennis wasn’t exactly sure how to interact with the current Asher, befriend him? parent him? One thing he could do was love him. The kiss they shared put all Dennis’ cards on the table. He had almost lost his brother once he couldn’t go through it again. So maybe it was only a matter of time, the two found each other’s lips again. Lina had gone out with friends and the men stayed home watching the game. Dennis kissed his big brother-son on the couch, pushing the wall of muscle back so he could climb on top of him. Asher wrapped his legs around his father’s waist, pressing him in tighter. Dennis cock grinded against the supple ass. Not long after, pants were lost as Dennis pounded into it. The man’s words were a mess of phrases from baby boy to big bro, as he made a giant weak. There was no immediate come down after the sex, they wanted more. After a race up to Asher’s room, the Stewarts broke the bed, the wood frame collapsing as Dennis rode his big bro like a horse. The poor thing wasn't equipped to handle two men of their size.

By the time Lina came back, the house was cleaned. Dennis was more energetic and Asher had an extra pep in his step. The two started a new father-son project to get Asher a new bed. The first of many projects and reasons they’d have to go off together. Then end up with their cocks up each other’s backside. Nothing like Asher getting a call from his Lina, in the back of Dennis' car, when Asher’s cock was buried in the hilt in his younger brother’s dad ass.

“Yeah mom? Dad’s a bit busy, that's why he couldn’t answer.” A thrust of the man’s hips made Dennis clamp over his mouth. Asher talked with his mom, while his dick pummeled his dad’s insides. Meanwhile Dennis’s daddy dick was leaking like a faucet, spilling precum freely. Whenever this combined version of Asher Keith was inside him Dennis couldn’t help it. The father’s ass clamped to milk his top dry. Nothing like having your own son’s body fucking you like your older brother. “Love you to0, mom.” The phone hung up and got tossed away as the fucking got faster. “Love you too dad…little bro, gonna show you how much.”  The car rocked with the power generated from the men’s lovemaking.

“FUCK!” both would growl out as cum erupted from their cocks. One batch flooded Dennis’ guts, the other coated both sets of abs in pearly white. A matching pair as the two kissed again. The radio’s music transitioned to an ad, neither was listening to. CGI Labs had a new discovery and an invention to come out. The ad ended back into music as the men drifted off to sleep for a little while. 

The summer before college Stanley became Poseidon’s experiment. Every night Poseidon slipped more of his divinity into Stanley. He wasn’t sure what it was supposed to feel like when he found his soul and body, but Stanley was highly receptive. That was probably a sign things were going well. As for Stanley, he went from a paper-thin nerd to a jock chugging down protein shakes before a morning workout. Poseidon was just dumping loads of energy Stanley’s body put into use. His voice went from a meek mild thing to loud and brash. When he walked, his body demanded notice. The tank tops incorporated into his wardrobe certainly got eyes on his arms. His ass didn’t need any special clothing attention, just a bubble from the start. Then, there was his cock. People thought he was smuggling a dildo around before he started wearing the proper underwear.

People noticed the changes, but thanks to Poseidon’s careful planning chalked it up to those latent growth spurts mortals had. On the first night after Stanley had left for college, Poseidon tried to make his move. It was the perfect opportunity. Stanley's parents were far away, and the young man didn’t know anyone around them. Poseidon could simply vanish into the night. No one would know. The god poured more of his divinity than he ever had into Staney as the young man slept. The teen whimpered as his cock rose in his sleep; a wet dream.

“Dudddeeee shut up.” His dorm mate sleepily said, turned towards the wall.

Poseidon was going incrementally but it didn’t feel like Stanley could house much more of him. The god became sure the boy would burst as his cock began to drip. Then suddenly Stanley’s cock exploded, cum flying throughout the room, edged to the brink by divinity.  Stanley only released a quiet whimper as his cum coated the room, even flying over to his new dorm mate. The abundant load was the gift of a god, especially one whose dominion was over water. Fresh young jock cum became the permanent scent of Stanley’s dorm room. Poseidon, frustrated, recalled all his divinity back into the necklace, but there was no undoing any changes in Stanley. From then on Stanley was just the host who wore Poseidon’s necklace. He was indistinguishable from any other college gym-goer or athlete.

But then came the frat house.

So many potential matches for Poseidon, at least compared to the store he had been left in. And Stanley had decided to live there. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as if Poseidon had the ability to influence Stanley’s actions. The most he could do was make the young man spit him out whenever he bit on the necklace.

“REMOVE ME FROM YOUR MOUTH AT ONCE MORTAL.”

Stanley couldn’t hear those thoughts, but he surely felt the inkling of divine rage, always, dropping the chain fast.

Eternity wasn’t much to an immortal, so four years should have passed in the blink of an eye. Tragically, when confined to a small chain with no way to move, and only allowed to perceive, Poseidon’s situation became hell. Stanley no longer had divinity with him, but he benefited from Poseidon’s numerous attempts. The god watched the teen amass muscle the natural way, turning the gym into his new religion. With that the change of Stanley into ‘Stan the man’ came naturally. The frat brother with the perfect haircut, faded on the sides, brown curls at the front. Shades became his eye wear of choice, muscle shirts and workout shorts joining his wardrobe. Every year his back broadened, his shoulders rounded, pecs jutted just a bit more out, while his ass got extra cushion.

By that point Stan was starting to look like the perfect vessel. Poseidon wondered if he had been wrong and the gods souls and bodies just needed to adjust to their power? He was just taking wild leaps, but what more did he have other to be tempted. The god of the seas would have to watch Stan wake up and blow his load before getting to the day. How dreadful it was to not be able to touch and enjoy pleasures of the flesh himself. His solution: Another attempt. The result?

Another failure.

All he got for it was Stan suddenly, having an increased love for the university’s pool, and spring break trips to the beach. Nothing that actually solved Poseidon’s predicament. Stan was always good at taking him off before touching the water. Poseidon missed the waves, he missed ocean life, he missed his domain. As a necklace all he could do was stare up at the sky until Stan returned to pluck him up again.

Poseidon lost his cool for a moment during Stan’s senior year. Stan had been elected frat president, and his reign was coming to an end as he prepared to graduate. His junior brother, Javier, soon to be the next frat president, challenged Stan: chug copious amounts of alcohol within a timed match. What strange rituals the humans of the common era had. But as a personal prize Javier wanted the chain on Stan’s neck. Stan didn’t give a shit and agreed to it. The two young men started the challenge with a time limit of 2 minutes. Javier packed 5 cans away, Stan only got 4 and a half. He lost and Poseidon was pissed at the nonchalant attitude Stan had to lose divinity.

Stan and Javier retreated to his room, while the frat’s party raged on. There was supposed to be a secret passing of the torch, but once the door closed, Stan was all over Javier kissing him up and down. The two young men grabbed at each other pulling off shirts and stepping out of pants. Stan fumbled them back to his king-sized bed. Ever since Poseidon had started experimenting on Stan, he’d lost all desires for girls. The only thing Stan was concerned about was being a suitable vessel, even if he didn’t know that was the true motivation behind going to the gym. He’d never be a vessel though; he wasn't born to be one. However, there was someone there that appreciated the work Stan put into his body more than anyone else.

Javier wasn’t even a brother back then, just a wide-eyed freshman, who latched onto Stan and his presence. As for Stan, external validation was certainly nice. It turned into sex because…they were horny as shit. Only by the lingering grace of Poseidon’s divinity did no one catch on to the president plowing his protege’s ass or riding a junior’s cock. They thought they were being sneaky, but these young men grunted and moaned like the world was coming to an end. One time Stan forgot to close the door, no doubt people saw his tan bare ass pounding away at something, maybe they just assumed it was a woman.

Tonight was different though, Poseidon was angry. Javier was not his vessel. The young man had worn Poseidon as a necklace before, often when Stan was asleep. He’d touch at it and stared down at Stan, is that what Aphrodite would call ‘love’? If so, Poseidon didn’t need it, just his own body and soul would do. Melodrama was for other gods. Poseidon gave one last feeble attempt to escape, releasing his divinity at the height of Stan’s climax as Javier rode him. Then Javier pounced on Stan getting inside his ass and fucking a load out of his president.

Poseidon recalled his divinity. He was tired of trying and so he slept.

When the god woke up, he was not adorning Javier’s neck, A new male had taken his place. Same frat house but different furniture, different young men through the hall. He had passed years like a nap. No matter, he tried pushing his divinity into the new male. The guys cock was the first to respond, spraying cum uncontrollably onto the floor. Awkward as he had just walked downstairs to the fridge. His cock had just hardened out of the blue, poked out of his boxers and ejaculated as he went for the handle. All witnessed by one freshly initiated pledge eating breakfast. Poseidon was curious as he watched his new vessel approach the other young man, cock still drooling. Then the president offered to (and did!) fuck the new brother on the table to keep his mouth shut. He knew that during pledging the freshman just wanted some presidential man meat, so he gave it to him. Nothing about Poseidon was given away on that day. A month later however, the frat brothers noticed their new brother was putting on more than a little weight. His stomach was more than, chubby, or bloated, it was rounded. Everyone seemed to know what happened. There was a tale going around about two presidents fucking with the necklace some years back and both ending up pregnant.

“That’s supposed to be a myth, Murph, something we say to scare pledges.” The president paced back and forth in his room.

“Myth or not Bohdi, there’s a small Indian child growing in Darwin’s gut and you put the boy there.” Bohdi’s best friend sat on a chair, watching his friend and president spiral out.

“Why is Lester’s stomach getting so fucking big! A baby takes nine months.”

Poseidon watched it all play out uninterested. Didn’t mortals have any understanding of divine pregnancies? Now, they weren’t fathering anything close to demigods, but even Zeus himself gave birth to Athena fully grown from his head. The boys were pleased to learn outside of their frat no one responded as rationally as they did. Men having babies was odd, but not impossible in their minds.

Bodhi however was shitting bricks, the night of graduation because Lenny looked ready to pop. The doctors had confirmed it to be true above all else: Lenny was about to bring Bohdi’s big ass son into the world. Meanwhile the frat brothers became interested in the tale about the necklace, multiple people were asking to try him on. That’s when the god realized their sudden fascination was perhaps the newest vehicle for escape. Poseidon got passed around the night as he poured his divinity into every young man’s chest he landed on. No response from his soul or body. However, his testing came to an end when Lenny began to give birth on their couch. 

The brothers worked together through a lot of fumbling as Bodhi’s progeny entered the world. Poseidon was positively bored with all the cooing over the mortal infant. Eventually his necklace form was handed over to the next president in a private ceremony. The god could only give an internal sigh. Reduced to a ridiculous heirloom by mortals. He laid against the new chest, that night and the god could hear his divinity working through the young men of the house as they moaned in unison.

How many years was Poseidon trapped in this new way following that day? Passed on repeatedly through classes. He thought a place of mortal young men would be a sign for his escape. But perhaps it was only ever punishment. Maybe fate had seen his attempt with Stan and did not appreciate it. He may not have been Dionysus, but listening to merriment and pleasure, unable to participate, became unbearable. Even worse when he saw the results of his divinity shared on the frat brother’s bodies. The muscles obviously, but the offspring. Strong powerful guts and abs bloated out, which should have been rightfully Poseidon’s children. Instead of girlfriends, the frat brothers sought out other members to copulate with and did it well.

Then one day perhaps mortal-sanity struck as the latest president, tummy full of his Vice-president’s future soccer star, got into his car and drove. He arrived at the beach feet stomping in the sand, as his gut fluttered a kick. He pulled the necklace off, balling it in his fist. Poseidon could see what was going to happen. He wanted it too. Even if he didn’t understand why. Hadn’t the president put the vice-president into a similar predicament? Poseidon was chucked far into the ocean as the water surrounded and claimed him. At least he was home again. Suffered an entire saga with no reward.

—

It was midday when Poseidon found himself tossed through the waves. He thought he’d stay sunk forever but he kept getting kicked up by the water. Unfortunately, in his form the water was not his to command, all he could do was experience it. Maybe it was for the best as that’s how he lucked upon Seo-jun’s neck. Tossed under by a wave, a boy in a wet suit swam up head perfectly going in the unseen open chain. When Poseidon graced a new body, the god feared his next turmoil, but there was an explosion. Seo-jun’s mind became completely open to Poseidon with even a touch of divinity. They slotted into Poseidon’s mind as if they had been there all along. A boy on vacation with his family from Korea.

Poseidon’s divinity didn’t need to be pushed out; it was welcome back in as Seo-jun swam up. The body extended as his legs grew stronger, taller. His feet turned massive, almost like flippers aiding in his swimming. The wetsuit peeled, unzipped, guided by an unknown hand, as Seo-jun upper body sprouted. A crack in his spine that made him surge, as his chest produced two twin pecs followed by hard abs. His paddling arms like blades, their reach wider.  His divinity that had been shared out came roiling back to him. His shoulder’s bulked with his traps wider and better than Atlas. The water’s surface was nearby. As he breached the surface, the water bulged and Seo-jun’s face changed. When it finally met the air, a hard jaw line was waiting. Poseidon’s symbol separated from the necklace flowing to his hand as a larger palm grasped it, and the form unleashed.

Poseidon rose from the depths, Seo-jun’s wet suit now spilling down over their reunited existence once more. The ocean released their body with a healthy sheen, a gift for the god of the oceans return. He stood at the water’s edge. Considering how to punish the frat brothers for their transgressions. What was a god if not a petty being? Then again, perhaps they could stew with their offspring. Without Poseidon’s divinity there were sure to be hard questions to answer. Besides, he had his own brother to punish for starting it all. As for the frat predicament pointing back to him among the gods, surely, he could blame the birth rate increase on Zeus. Who wouldn’t believe that? 

—

Jonathan never spent much time with his older brother. The two had a wide age gap and only seemed to communicate with each other through presents sent to and from their mom’s house. Even then, the communications weren't that frequent. All that to say, Jonathan didn't get much from his brother. But on one particular day, Jonathan found himself having inherited a lot more than he ever thought.

The day was ending normally enough, Johnathan’s mom had left a gift on his bed, while she went to her job's night shift. The boy was freezing, winter in their apartment got awful, he had a robe and still shivered. He was cramped in his tiny room, which was little more than a glorified closet, but it was less space to heat. Johnathan tore the box open, finding weird pants and a note from his brother sitting on top.

Hey little bro, found these at a market here in Cali. These are long johns made with alpaca wool or something? Have you ever heard of long johns? Just another name for thermal underwear. Which is underwear for the cold. The old lady selling them promised they'd keep me warm. Which I know, why buy them in California? She was nice but also kind of creepy. Hard to turn her down. Regardless, gave it a try, I didn’t like it, but maybe you will. Bet you’ll get more use out of them in your state. You can hang on until you grow into it!

Love,

Paul

Jonathan held up the long johns. He couldn't quite get how these were supposed to pass for underwear. Also, they looked like they were for a giant, especially in his hands. It looked like the underpants wanted to swallow him whole. How big did his brother think he had grown? As ridiculous as it seemed, he felt compelled to try it on anyway. As Johnathan slipped them on, they fit perfectly.

Somewhere between seeing them and wearing them they had shrunk. Paul had been right about them being warm, Jonathan was getting toasty in them alone. Then he broke out into a sweat! His body’s temperature climbed rapidly as his body pulsed and sent waves out through the air, distorting the world around him. His body pulsed in tandem with his heart's strong quick beat, each one changing his figure. Jonathan’s body expanded larger, taking up more space in his room. He was getting older, wiser. Spilling onto the scene first were heavy pectorals wanting to show. His abs and arms weren’t far behind developing just as quickly. The height kept piling on, with no signs of stopping. When his jaw cracked, his mind began to alter. Not erased, just added too.  Memories, knowledge, even his thought process, all added to. His old face was defeated by the masculine one rising to the surface. Dark heavy stubble broke out across his face, to form a beard.

Jonathan’s ass widened, packing the underwear in the back fully as his thighs easily carried the same determination into the rest of the legs. Then his bulge plopped out, weighed far heavier than it ever had been and showed no signs of reversing. An itch came at the center of the pecs before it broke out across his torso, dark curly hairs escaping, as he gained a full pelt. The chest and the hair were his own but also looked familiar. A vision played in his mind: His older brother, Paul wearing the underwear around his house. Unfit for California, the underwear did nothing but prepare for its use. Paul was suitable and produced immense heat on his own. It milked John, at night infusing his seed into its being as some form of storage. The form Jonathan was taking was indeed his own, but very much channeling his older brother’s genes by way of the underwear.

Jonathan roared, as the realization hit and flooded his underwear, soaking them in his cum. By the time he recovered there was no wet spot to be found. He stood up in a much larger room, a different layout and design entirely. A smile crossed his lips.

He was no longer cold.

—

Johnnie Walters knew better than to steal, but he did. Now he was staring at his own bulge sticking out. 

It had only happened two hours ago, he was hanging out with his friends at the mall, barely anyone else around. Malls were a dying breed after all. The perfect place to get into some shit. They strolled around the stores, sticking mainly to the food court. Johnnie’s dad had tried to warn him, his friends weren't good news, but Johnnie wanted to be hard-headed. Then by chance they happened into an old clothing store and the cashier couldn’t be bothered to tell the rowdy bunch of teens to leave.

As they perused the sections, one of them walked by an area, shouting back to Johnnie. As Johnnie came by, he saw it: an ad of men in thermal underwear. The word ‘Long Johns’ were displayed across the picture in bold front. Johnnie thought they looked stupid all doing activities and stretching their underwear. Not to mention some of the models selected had very visible endowments. 

“Dude, it’s literally got your name on it.”

It was all downhill from there. The friendly banter got more pointed, as it devolved into a full-on dare. They told Johnnie he had to steal it, or else he was a wimp. And what else was Johnnie supposed to do? He walked up to reach for a package. His eyes tried not to meet the men’s eyes in the ad, felt like they were staring at him–judging him. As if to say, what the hell were they doing in the men’s section? Certainly not acting like men. Johnnie hands wrapped around a package and shoved it under his coat. His friends snickered and cheered, before they all huddled up and left the store together as the alarm went off. Impossible to determine which one had stolen something. The cashier was deep in her magazine and only gave one glance up, before rolling her eyes.

Johnnie got home and threw the package on his bed, smiling like he’d actually won spoils of war. He sat on the bed, studying it. The man on the package had an annoying smirk on his face, as if he personally knew what Johnnie had done. Shoving the guilt down, Johnnie took another look at the guy, he wasn’t so tough. Ripping the package open, he put on the thermal underwear. If he stole it, he at least deserved to wear it. He looked as ridiculous as the men in the ads. Before he could take it off a sharp pain was on his side as an eye of Rah symbol rose from his side formed from black ink. Johnnie stared at it from the mirror. His fingers went to trace it, but it never got the chance. His legs popped and snapped with no pain as he grew taller, spine stretching out. Hair erupted from his chest, flowing toward his crotch. Each of his muscles transitioned into stronger versions of themselves. His face imbued sleeker, harder edges, surpassing decades in seconds. A beard bloomed on the fertile soil of his cheeks, brow hair overgrowing like a jungle. Then his soft cock inflated, and plumped out, held in a prominent part of the underwear. 

Now he looked as ridiculous as the men in the ad.

—

Jon, or John-John as his parents called him, had it tough. He knew his dad had grown up in a rural area, not quite Amish country, but more communal than a farm. However, that didn’t paint a clear enough picture of what that meant. Well, when Jon’s uncle, Mick, his dad’s older brother, got married that meant they were on the road for a wedding. Not Jon’s mom though, she understood what he had to do, but she was pregnant and not straying far from a hospital. Fair.  They arrived at the dead of night, Jon freezing, while his dad swiftly unpacked their bags. He shivered as his dad moved unbothered and he wondered how. Mick gave them a quiet late-night greeting, showing them to their room.

The rooms were warmer than outside but not by much. Jon wasn't exactly happy he had to share it with his father. Two beds but even the sheets were ice cold.  His dad, on the other hand, was already taking his clothes off, tossing them on a chair. He stripped down until he only had undergarments on.

“Uh, what are those?” Jon asked, befuddled by his dad weird underwear choice.

"They’re just long johns,” His dad chuckled, then stared as his son wasn’t laughing. “Have I never got you long johns?” He clapped his head. “It’s a must have out here away from the city.”

“You don’t say.” Jon rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’ll ask my brother if he’s got any spare in the morning, but the sooner you hop into bed the less cold you’ll be,” he said getting into bed himself.

Jon relented crawling into bed, temperature dropping rapidly before his sheet captured his body heat. The morning after, Jon woke up with thermal underwear at the foot of his bed. He raced to put them on.

And then it all changed.

He grew and grew. A full life of the rural life settling into his body just as with his extended family. The beard was a staple that forced itself onto his body growing out as strong as his own father and uncles. He was large and none of his clothes fit. Not that it mattered any more. His body was running hot. He came downstairs finding his dad and uncle eating at the breakfast table.

#2 Don’t Trespass

Mr. Cook hadn’t even gotten his pool together. His fence was up. But there was still so much more work to be done on his house. Sadly, Manuel had too many other projects around town to do. Never even talked about that ‘streaming’ stuff anymore. Mr. Cook felt good he had helped clear the young man of that stress. But now Mr. Cook had a stressor. He’d seen it on the Neighborhood app: boys around town were stealing rocks from his backyard to place in other people’s lawn. Some real suburban entertainment foolishness right there.

These weren’t regular rocks, they were decorative pieces for his pool, but did the boys care? No. Which Mr. Cook was flabbergasted by. They were neighbors. Okay, maybe not direct neighbors, but it was all one neighborhood. One division of town that separated them from the rest. If they didn't have each other's backs, who would? Then the solution came to him. A way for the young men bored out of their minds to find meaning.

The next time someone tried to steal his rocks, Mr. Cook was in the kitchen making a sandwich. He heard the grunting first, then clothes tearing. He cleaned his hands, stepping outside. A smile was on his face. Not just one neighborhood hooligan, but two, attempting to steal his rocks. Unlike Manuel, their clothes came straight off. Their bodies bulked rapidly as if they had been starving for it . Mr. Cook shook his head as two men rolled on the ground stroking their dicks. Thankfully, his fence was up. When they were done covering each other in white glaze, he handed them tool belts, two new employees.

“Where would you like these to go Mr. Cook?” Rick would ask, while John held a wheelbarrow full of rocks that had to be moved.

Mr. Cook gave a silent approval to the toned bodies under his command. He appreciated their subconscious-fueled growth that made their natural outfits be their birthday suits. What was better than watching the male form in its most purest state at work? Very nice of his neighbors to take on his house as a project. At night, fully-clothed they made for pretty good watch dogs to deter future rocks from being stolen.

–

# 3 Do Favors

When a neighbor asks for help, it's only right to help. Mr. Cook believed it deeply and boy, did he need help. His last two workers were killing it outside, but they were very unskilled at indoor labor (i.e. panting a house.) He couldn’t quite reach up without his back killing him. He had ordered a pizza and wouldn’t you know it, Francisco from down the street was the pizza boy. He was trying to make some money before college. Well, Mr. Cook had a better offer. He took the pizza and gave his neighbor a paint brush. The young man looked confused expecting a tip. Mr. Cook smiled, knowing Francisco was about to get something much better than a tip. Francsico’s body exploded with muscle on Mr. Cook’s porch. 

The older Francisco stepped inside. He lost his shirt but had on a nice pair of sweatpants. He walked up the steps already knowing where to go. Mr. Cook followed behind, ignoring the ass practically clapping in his face. Two pillows forced inside a thin layer.  Francisco got to work on the walls as his pants repeatedly fell down throughout the process, too small for his bubble butt.

Mr. Cooks rubbed his neck, “You know we’re inside, if it’s uncomfortable to keep those on. You should work with them off. Consider it a favor from me to you, just being neighborly by offering.”

–

# 4 Improve the View

It's all the neighbors responsibility to ensure their neighborhood stays beautified. Mr. Cook certainly took his part seriously. When he caught Paul McGill littering, he put a stop to it right there. The young man barely knew what hit him as the tool belt cinched around his waist. Muscles piled in, happily filling in his form. He rose inches up into the air as body broke free of his constraints. His balls sagged lower as his ass pushed out. His face re-adjust, hairline slightly receding, jaw squaring, as a mustache grew over his lip zipping right past the peach fuzz phase.

Now Mr. Cook could lay in his backyard on a lawn chair and see the view of the newest Mr. McGill’s ass when working. The best view, as the man had four kids and anyone could tell his body put in the work making them.

–

# 5 Just Because 

Mr. Cook always needed help around the house. Sometimes he didn’t even know what he needed help for. Honestly, he could admit it was his own damn fault for moving into a DIY suburban home. Huge property, so many projects. So, there were times the specific reason eluded even him. Then again, he liked being surrounded by barely clothed and nude men who reminded him of himself: hard workers.

The two new men he’d recently “hired” to work on his roof?

He couldn't even remember their names, maybe they had bumped into him, or said something weird. Regardless, the result was great, wasn’t it? Muscle tits out in the summer sun, buns being cooked by sunset. Mr. Cook was sure the two were making out whenever he wasn’t checking up on them. It was hard to be overly competent and attractive without getting another man turned on. Mr. Cook could relate. Even harder to spend days bending over, and squatting down, when neither men wore underwear.

Then when a baseball came through his window and landed surrounded by glass. Mr. Cook sighed after nearly having a heart attack. Lee Sung was at his door minutes later. Mr. Cook rolled his eyes, walking the boy in. The kid apologized but had no plans for how to fix the window. There were tons of men working on the house who could have fixed it easily, but to Mr. It was about the principle of the thing. Whoever breaks it should fix it. However, with the team he had at that point, that was flimsy reasoning even for him. His hand fell on Lee’s shoulder from behind as Mr. Cook reached into his pocket and placed a tape measure at the center of Lee’s chest. On impact a shock wave traveled through Lee as his body changed. A man had replaced the boy in seconds, his overall’s had ripped and not repaired itself, becoming the new style, while his shirt had been obliterated by his pecs and shoulders, making it obsolete. Mr. Cook looked over him, satisfied, before letting his newest employee get to work.

–

When Mr. Cook, with Manuel’s help, published his Five Neighborly Tips on his fence, people laughed thinking it was a joke, especially #5. What was ‘Just Because’?  At the neighborhood watch meeting he’d shared it was very serious. There were steps he believed they could all take to be a bit more thoughtful of each other. It was only fair to provide people with his expectations. After all, most would come to find he’d be the only one winning in the end when he practically had an entire worker’s commune walking into his house, disappearing until the night. 

People started to whisper about what really went on at Mr. Cook’s house. Yet when they heard a saw, drill, or leaf blower for hours it was hard to argue otherwise. However, despite how many men he added on, none of the projects ever seemed to get fixed. There were always more men, always more work to do. Eventually people get bored of trying to guess. The litany of workers would never stop, and it was just a fact of life.

The reverence they spoke with was like the washer and dryer were like twin gods that sat in everyone’s homes. Mr. Hill had to stand and listen to the host talk about his new ones like it was a grill. Then they started talking about their various laundry days, once a week, every two weeks, whenever the basket was full. Mr. Hill nursed his drink until a voice came his way.

“When do you do your laundry, Layton?”

Mr. Hill looked up, “Me? Well, it’s just me and my son so whenever really.” The men’s eyes went wide, someone’s breath sucked in. They looked at him like he had just run over something.

“You don’t have a set Laundry Day?”

Mr. Hill chuckled a bit expecting the others to join him, “No, does it matter?” No one laughed.

“Dude, your clothes will build up, if you don’t clean them—

“Woah, woah I clean my clothes. “Mr. Hill held up his hands feeling attacked. “Just because I don’t have it set when, shouldn’t be the worst.”

A hand rested on his shoulders, “Just be careful, dirty clothes get washed one way or another.

It was weird. Super weird actually, how much they liked laundry, but Mr. Hill was willing to ignore it. Other than that one thing, they were normal the rest of the time. He also never came home and found them worshiping a large washing machine effigy, so they weren’t completely insane.

How did that lead to today?

Who was the strange man with his ass hanging out of Mr. Hill’s washer? He watched the man reach back and adjust…wait, those were Mr. Hill's underwear and socks. “What the…” Mr. Hill whispered, realizing he was dealing with a thief? That would explain the clothes by the man’s massive thighs. Mr. Hill had to collect himself when he was ogling when he should have been getting angry.

“Hey!” He said it more clearly. And the man’s body paused, before coming out.

Mr. Hill’s cock responded in tandem with his eyes. The man on his floor was absolutely gorgeous, from the legs to the rump, his back, his bicep, forearm with Mr. Hill’s jockstrap. Then there was that face, structured, clean cut. If his features weren't so hardened Mr. Will would have thought the man bore a striking resemblance too.

“Morning, Dad! Sorry, I mean, Layton.” The man said. A deep silvery voice came out of him. “Still getting used to all this.”

“Chris?!!!” Mr. Hill said, mouth agape. He didn't even believe it yet, his mouth had just simply said because he could believe it.  As if saying his son’s name made the stranger’s resemblance come through stronger. There was no logical reason Mr. Hill shouldn’t have been trying to remove the man or calling the cops, but he didn’t. Instead, he just backed away down the hall, power walking to Chris’ room. His feet stomped their way to the open door. He turned into it. The first thing he noticed, no toys were scattered on the floor. A clean floor greeted him instead, freshly made bed, and a computer desk in the room. He walked to Chris’ closet throwing it open, an assortment of suits, dress pants, and polos. Lined on the floor were shoes too big to belong to Chris' feet: new tennis, shined black shoes, comfortable slippers. He staggered back out to the living room.

Chris was standing up by that point.

“What’s going on?” Mr. Hill scratched his head. He meant for it to be a shout, to be angry, but his voice only came out calm.

“I’m your roommate now, isn’t that awesome!” Chris stated Layton’s jockstrap still in his hand.

“No, I mean: how? WHEN.” Mr. Hill plopped onto his couch, body deflated, trying hard to not look at the body of the handsome double-cheeked up stranger before him, or the anatomy of his back and arms. The man’s figure was objectively stunning, an older enhanced muscled version of Mr. Hill’s own boy, though he was having trouble recalling Chris' exact face. In his brain details about his son were being obfuscated, not erased, just harder to make out. He knew this new man had a matured version of Chris' face, but he could no longer envision Chris’ original face.

“I heard the washer machine start this morning, I thought you were up. So, I walked out here but didn’t see you.” He tapped on the washer, “And well you know your son was always hypnotized by the spin cycle, so he—I—man, this is hard. Whichever, sat down here and watched. He thought you’d be out soon, so he just kept watching. Next thing he knew, he was leaning forward, closer to the glass. When he put his hands out to get leverage, they went through and he was pulled inside. The washing machine tossed him around and his body stretched his pj’s went bye-bye, somewhere in there your clothes got on him. Next thing I know, he’s me and I get spat out of the washer along with these clothes.” He taps his head, "And from the moment I land, I know I’m completely different from your son, although I used to be him. Then, I remembered I saw your jockstrap still in there and that’s where you came in.

“That doesn't make sense at all.” Mr. Hill stated.

“Hey, don’t look at me man, The washer only used your son because you clearly weren’t going to do the laundry. Someone had to take up the mantle. You know, be the responsible one around here, not let clothes pile up.”

“I was about to do it!” Mr. Hill defended.

Chris shook his head, “It’s the suburbs man, life moves slow, but you can't be moving at a glacier’s pace when it comes to laundry.”

“So, what happens next?”

“Oh, you mean the dryer? I should probably check if there's anything inside. There’s always a sock you know!”

Mr. Hill ignored the pulse of his cock. But he could not ignore the thoughts in his brain: if Chris was still Chris Hill what did that mean for their relationship? It certainly wasn’t father and son. This man was as attractive as the other fathers on the block. That thought gave Mr. Hill pause. He thought back on how the men reflected on doing laundry. “Does this sort of thing happen often out here?”

“Layton, come on, stop being ridiculous. Of course it does! Being able to do laundry by yourself is like the most basic step to independence. When you go from being a boy to being a man.”

“So, what, people are just chucking others into washing machines?”

“No, it’s supposed to be a great coming of age thing. Don’t blame the suburbs for your sloppy habits. Had to start itself and make someone who’d appreciate its importance.”  He reached for some pods, “Now, let’s actually start another cycle.”

Mr. Hill paused at that. He took a moment to look at the clothes on the floor. They weren't just random; they were his jockstraps. Which meant the washer started itself but only chose those few undergarments. Why not clean the whole house then? It felt kind of like a set up to specifically lure Chris, with the intended purpose of changing him. And now just like every other house on the block there was a man who was in love with its process. It didn’t give a damn about clothes being clean, it wanted to be worshiped. These were petty machines with grievances.

Well, two could play that game.

“Chris, would you mind just standing right there—put the laundry stuff down for a moment.” Chris complied with Mr. Hill’s request as his former father came over and kicked his jockstraps off to the side.

Layton Hill took a good once over of his roommate. The man's body was perfect, from head to toe. All for Laundry? A waste honestly.

“Was there a point to this?” Chris asked, scratching his head, eyes on Mr. Hill’s prominent boner.

A smirk on Layton’s face he asked, “Since you love cleaning, have you ever considered the benefits of hand washing and air drying out in the back?”

“No, can’t say I have.” Chris admitted.

The washer and dryer’s outlet sparked like a fit. 

Looked all good to him, Kandi was just worried over nothing. Good thing. Before, Reece thought he heard his brother grunting and shuffling about like he was uncomfortable. He even thought Benson was ripping something up back there. Normally, Reece would have been a good brother and asked what was up, but the blunt was really fucking good, more so than usually. He was gone. His friend had said it was laced with an aphrodisiac to put everyone in the mood, but Reece didn’t believe in stupid stuff like that. People were horny or they weren’t.

Reece really knew it when his high had hit because his eyes went to the mirror and Benson's reflection was growing in the back. Reece watched as Benson sweated up a storm, as his stomach turned hard and his arms blasted through his shirt. Benson’s shoulder shifted out across the width of the seat, gaining mass, as his neck and facial features shifted to something more in line with men who spent years in the gym. 

Reece knew it had to be his high messing with his mind because Benson was the sort of boy that could talk nonstop and if something was wrong, he'd definitely let everyone in the car know. However, Reece wasn't sure if that was true, as in his head that fact paired with a smaller version of Benson. This Benson, wasn’t he always at the gym working out and showing off? It wasn’t unusual to hear him grunt because he was always pumping iron. Men like him just wanted to show off for the women around him. That’s why he probably took his shirt off: to show off to Kandi.

“Hey Kandi,” a velvet voice, cockier than Reece could recall, came from Benson’s throat. “You, ever been fucked by a real man? Not sure my brother's doing it for you.”

The first thought in Reece’s head was to ask, ‘what the fuck’, but his mind tempered him. Benson had always been like this, wanting to fuck Reece’s girls just to prove he could do it better. Make those girls scream his name as he claimed their pussies for himself. Too many times, did Reece have to listen to one of his girls being turned into Benson’s bitch. Benson didn’t care about them; they were another notch on his bed. He wanted to fuck them to prove that he could.

“Really bro?” Reece looked back annoyed. The pussy hound was on the hunt again, Reece knew his brother could probably smell Kandi's cunt dripping for him. Even now Benson was peacocking with his rings out, no functional purpose other than to show off his style.  Benson had a finger on his lips, showing off an adorable face. How could Reece ever be mad at the absolute fuck monster when he looked so cute? Something inside Reece said his brother was precious as shit, but he couldn’t conjure up a single memory to back that notion up. In reality, Benson had his arms on display, one behind the middle headrest to show his bicep properly. As for the other, even a finger to the lips looked naughty when a man had forearms like Benson. Reece could even see sunlight hitting the golden hairs over his arms. When did it get so hairy?

Kandi laughed. Not the ‘you’re so silly’ kind of laugh, a laugh that had her red in the face from being flustered. She’d gotten the Benson charm and was going down. The only reason she hadn't yet was the promise of a crash for all of them if she lost focus on the road. 

Reece slammed his back into his seat, pissed at his brother, but also trying to ignore his own cock while watching the Casanova at work. Kandi didn’t pay him any mind. Reece wasn't even there as far as she was concerned. Benson leaned forward head and neck, coming past the seats. The smell of sweat and iron wafted off him straight into Reece’s nostrils. His brother hadn’t even worked out today; the sun had brought out a smell that now permanently emitted from him. If Reece could smell it, he knew Kandi could smell it and was probably going woozy. Benson chatted her up, Reece didn’t care to listen to the actual words he knew the play by now. Instead, Reece’s eyes clung onto the golden bronzed skin tanned with the love of the sun.

There were murmurs of agreement as Kandi went right along with whatever bullshit Benson was spewing. He fancied himself a philosopher. A philosopher of getting into women’s pants by being an absolute stud. His own words. Reece would never have come up with something so stupid. There were small moans from Kandi that got Reece’s attention, as Benson talked about how ‘hard’ it was being alone in the back seat, and how ‘stiff’ his legs were getting. Reece shrugged, that’s what happened when tall people had to sit in the back. But Kandi was nowhere as dismissive, her thoughts were in the complete opposite traction.

Benson turned to Reece, a smirk on his little brother's face. He had her and he knew it. All he had to do was drive it home. Leaning back both arms behind the headrest for double bicep exposure, Benson thrusted his hips up in a powerful motion that promised one thing to his audience. Kandi swerved a smidge, eyes on the rearview mirror and not the road, thankfully no other cars were out. The smirk was still on Benson’s face; all meant for Reece.

Reece’s cock was having its own little party and that cute face on top of that studly body wasn't helping. It was a dichotomy that worked too well for him. Benson got anything he wanted from everyone, and his brother was no exception. Visions played in his head often folding to a version of Benson he didn’t recognize. That Benson wanted the latest toy or game out and Reece was always happy to surprise him. Nah, that wasn’t this Benson. The image changed as the Benson in his head got older matching the one in the back seat. This Benson was only a year apart from Reece, they grew up together. 

It wasn't a ‘vision’ like the previous ones, this new Benson brought memories that felt more real in Reece's mind, aligned to who sat in the car behind him. Benson’s face always did wonders on Reece, but it was the day his brother woke up with that body, Reece found himself defenseless. That’s not to say it happened overnight; muscles couldn’t just appear on someone. It was just one day Reece noticed his brother's gym time was paying off. Benson certainly used that new body to physically impose his will on others, but not for Reece. He didn't need to. Benson had adapted his ways of persuasion for everyone as he matured: his adorableness into fear of his physicality. But Reece always folded like a dinner napkin in Benson’s presence without the threat. Unlike everyone else, Reece gave in not from duress but purely because of Benson’s beauty. Benson’s face and position as the younger brother had always been enough, then the body sealed Reece’s fate. Two visuals that told competing stories about his nature and Reece knew only the naughtiest of them were true.

He remembered some years back the day he came home early from college to surprise everyone; their parents were out at the time. Reece heard noises from upstairs. Thinking Benson was home, Reece walked up only to find his brother’s room vacant, door open, floor clean, bed made. Meanwhile Reece’s door was closed, as he distinguished the sounds not just random noises, but a headboard moving. He walked to his room as the moaning got louder. Turning to the door quietly, he let it swing out. There he was greeted by the sight of his little brother’s dump truck of an ass grinding. Little blond hairs caught the light, revealing its subtle fuzz. Below Benson’s body was a girl; They were fucking in Reece’s room! The girl tossed her head around moaning, hair spilling off the edge. The blond curls dangled there. Reece knew those blond curls. Emilia. His ex-girlfriend. They had broken up before college. She had sent a text the other day asking when Reece got back to their hometown. Reece had responded he was getting back ‘early’, as in relative to when he was expected, not early in the day, and of course he forgot to add the time. Now here Emilia was getting plowed by his brother. Benson’s hips grinded far back, because his cock was THAT HUGE, Reece couldn't quite make it out, but he saw the plump nuts containing his nephews slapping back and forth. The two never even noticed Reece there. He watched the whole thing. The way Emilia gripped the sheets–she’d never done that for him. How Benson drove his cock into her, wrecking her, and how those ass cheeks flexed when thrusted.

“Want my nut, slut?” Benson asked sultry. All Emilia could do was whimper, “My bro never fucked you right so now I have too.” He sucked his teeth, annoyed, as if he were doing an altruistic favor. Emila screamed his name, as Benson thrusted hips locked forward, firing cum. The poor girl had creamed herself. Hard. The entire house quaked as if in agreement with her. All that ado, caused over the motions of some high school senior’s cock. Emilia had passed out

Benson pulled out and turned slightly to look over her in satisfaction. He didn't even notice Reece there, too pleased with himself. The condom on the end of his dick was flooded beyond belief, nothing but a sea of milky white cream, no tip or upper shaft visible. Benson got out of bed, heavy dick swaying. That’s when he finally saw Reece. “Oh, hey bro!” His eyes light up as if he was genuinely ecstatic to run into his brother. There it was, that cute face Reece couldn’t deny, atop a body that had just shown its full capabilities. Reece's anger strangely dissipated. Then Benson wrapped his brother in a full body hug, getting his post-sex sweat all over Reece. “Glad you’re back,” he pulled away. Their heads turned to Emilia slumbering on Reece’s bed. “She’s not too bad, didn’t think she’d last during round five.” He grinned, nudging Reece like it was a joke they shared. With two expert hands, he smoothly slid the condom off his dick. Tying it off, Benson dropped it into Reece’s small trash can by the door. “Welp!” Then he just left with a small pat to Reece’s back, as if he hadn't caused a massive wreckage in his wake. That’s when Reece knew he had truly been whipped.

Emilia woke up on Reece’s sheets in a cock daze that only lasted a minute as she spotted her ex. Reece tongue drawing across his lips. What was there to even say? She stammered out some excuse about coming to see Reece but only finding his brother. Throwing on her clothes she kept talking, explaining, brushing past him, and seeing the result of her romp in the empty condom wrapper that lay deflated in Reece’s trash. For all her words, Reece clocked she didn’t apologize. Because she wasn’t sorry, her stride of pride revealed that much. 

The next year, Benson continued to get what he wanted, following Reece to college. Instead of participating in regular freshman dorm life, Benson wanted to room with his big bro. Not how it was done, but no one ever questioned Benson. Reece could have said, ‘no’. He knew what was coming, but the moment Benson asked, with the slightest pout, and face that looked like it couldn't even conceive the word debauchery, Reese said yes. Their living situation started off nice, until Reece brought a girl home. Benson fucked her. As a matter of fact, he would go on to fuck every girl Benson brought home in their 3 college years together. Reece did have the smart idea to not bring any girl home, but once Benson caught on, he was on top of it.

“Look, you can bring your girl over.” Benson followed him into the kitchen. “It’s going to be fine.”

Reece wasn’t stupid, he didn’t hear a ‘I won’t do it again’ and certainly not an apology; Benson didn’t apologize. Benson was strutting around in his underwear and socks. Classes were over for the day, and he seemed to want his brother to know that too.  Reece was intentionally avoiding looking, knowing he was a wimp for Benson’s looks. The older brother stepped out onto the terrace of their apartment. He needed some air and went to enjoy the sunset. Not to see the face. He closed his eyes and took a deep break. When they opened them, the world was lighter.

“Bro?” Benson asked beggingly and Reece on autopilot turned his head.

Yep, that was the face.

Reece crumbled. He brought his girl, and Benson wooed her. Tale as old as time.

After being out of college after some years, Reece thought it’d be fine to take Benson on a car ride, with Kandi, but his lil bro was horned up as ever. Reece had to consider, perhaps the blunt he smoked had an aphrodisiac because Benson had strangely been fine up to that point. Reece's mind was drawing a blank on how they all interacted, leading up to the car. It didn't matter they were in the car now though and Benson wanted some Kandi and more. Kandi pulled off into an empty gas station, practically ready to flood her seat. She announced she was going to the bathroom, with purpose. She left the brothers there. The moment she was gone from view. Reece stormed out of his seat, throwing open the back door. Benson sat there ready to get out, until Reece pushed him back standing outside the car peering down at this brother. He noticed the holes on his little brother's jeans and wondered when that became Benson’s fashion sense. 

“Woah bro, can’t you tell I’m running late to my ‘give dick’ appointment?” He said laid back.

 “God you’re so fucking jealous,” Reece rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up, “Can you not be horny for a car ride?”

“Hey, that blunt really put me in the mood,” He pointed to Reece’s cock, “I think it put you in the mood too. Certainly, got Kandi in the mood,” then, Benson leaned forward and mouthed Reece’s cock in the open as his big brother shuddered. Was it the weed, or had it always been this way? Reece's memories were settling. Benson was insatiable, always had been insatiable, but not solely for pussy. Not truly. Benson wanted his big brother’s cock. After Benson fucked Emilia, Reece went into his brother’s room, saw his naked visage lying there, and he ended up with his cock up Benson’s ass, no condom. Benson’s ass swallowed him up like it was fucking velvet. And he blew a fat load into those warm insides. College was worse because Benson kept sleeping with Reece girls to keep them away. He’d fuck them so good, leave them whimpering his name, meanwhile he’d be crawling into Reece’s bed at night. That’s what Benson had been signaling in the car with all his passes at Kandi: speaking to tease Reece. Leaning forward, purposefully putting his body into a personal space to tempt Reece. He wanted Reece to have sex with him now. As for Kandi? Oh, Benson was still going to fuck her, make no mistake.  She was just going to have to wait awhile, but when the dick on the line was Benson’s women would wait in bathrooms for weeks if that’s what it took. She wasn't going anywhere if the threat was missing her chance.

Reece rolled his tongue in his mouth as he looked over his tantalizing brother in the back seat. He laughed, realizing Benson always knew how to get what he truly wanted. Time for Reece to slide in and close the door behind them.