Man up!

The worst thing about it? It was hard to stay angry seeing the fat ass I had given him. And fuck if his balls didn’t look as full as mine laying there, legs spread open.

“Don’t ‘hey bro’ me,” I replied. He even had on my dress socks. He knew I only had one pair of those for job interviews. “I knew you took my underwear this morning! I had my whole outfit planned out.”

“I assume that means you didn’t get the job.” he stated

Rolling my eyes, I did air quotes “Oh ‘assume’, look at you using big words from me.”

“Look bro, regardless of what you were wearing or not. If they didn't give you the job it wasn't meant to be.”

He was using my own reasoning against me. How many times had I said that to friends to calm them down? Well guess what, my words weren’t working on me. “So what, I sweat out my interview while you’re living large. Mom and dad thinking I’m just sleeping away in here.”

“It was a nice nap.” he laughed my laugh, but in his new deeper voice, which by the grace of the universe wasn’t a copy of mine. Small victories.

“I bet.” I spat, putting my bag on the floor.

“Look instead of being mad, let me make it up to you.” he stated.

“How do you plan to do that; you steal a job opportunity from me too?” I started pulling off my suit.

“No,” he chuckled. “Come fuck my ass, take a load off, dump a load.” He spread his legs wider, that perfect rump on display. Offering my ass and cock was a specialty of mine, never something I thought my brother would pick up from me. But honestly after the shit day I had I needed it. Pulling off my tie I climbed into the bed behind him. After stealing my shit, he was going to be taking more than a load.

—

Eric Chang had no idea putting on his brother's jockstrap would feel so good. The undergarment had been strangely abandoned in the center of his room. His older brother, Quay, had once been a studious academic under his parents roof, but 4 years at college had turned him into a complete musclehead. Sometimes Eric would almost forget they used to share a room, bunk beds. Until their parents demoted Quay to the guest room thinking he’d be a bad influence on Eric. Quay’s bed was out and a new desk for studying was in.

There were times Eric wanted to scream into his pillow. He had been a good student, but he was never a great student like his brother. His parents never really cared about his performance until Quay grades plummeted. Even when Quay was home, his parents couldn’t get him to care. Eric even tried to talk to him once.

“Little bro,” Quay would say with that kind smile, “You got to let Mom and Dad’s expectations go. That’s what I did, and it freed me.” His voice would say calmly as if he were a guru. 

Easy for Quay to say, he was away at college. He didn’t have mom and dad watching him like a hawk. So how did that lead to Quay just dropping trou, stepping out of his jockstrap and walking out the room bare ass naked? But Eric wasn’t focused on him, only the garments he had slipped out of. He couldn’t look away. He wanted to put them on. HAD to put them on. Walking over in a trance-like state, he disrobed and got his brother’s jockstrap.

The moment it was on, his body was completely different. The height came first as his body bulked with muscle. His pecs pressed out with a clear division between them. He never put his older brother’s clothes on; they simply appeared on his body. Eric went from student to pure jock in record time. Chewing on Quay’s tank, he tasted his older brother’s sweat, as his ass stretched the jock strap. Veins ran across feeding his muscle into an even more disciplined version than his brother.

Quay knocked back on the door, walking in when he heard the moaning. Their lips were soon on each other. The Changs would be disappointed to learn their dreams for another son were once again dashed to chase balls, in various forms.

—

[APOLOGIES, THIS IMAGE HAD TO BE REMOVED TO NOT GET THIS POST FLAGGED, visit the website, or use your imagination]

“Hahaha, won’t go down, will it?” Lenny laughed. The bet was simple, have Blake wear his underwear, after complaining about Lenny’s constant boners. Lenny was too used to college life and just constantly rocking them out in the open. His little brother wasn’t having it though. He didn’t believe Lenny’s “It just happens” excuse.  Blake was so smug, in the way most younger brothers were. He wasn't prepared for the rush of Lenny’s hormones into his system, when he got those American Eagle’s on.

Blake got hotter, taller, but he also got hornier, pitching a tent every which way he turned. 

“That’s what having a real dong is like bro, you get lost in it.”

“But it’s just there, and so needy. I NEED TO FUCK SOMETHING, bro!” Blake’s cock throbbed with each word. “How do you do anything with this in between your legs?”

“Ehh, sports help. You can thank me for the body later—mass looks good on you—it’ll be great when you start signing up with me at my university." Lenny lay comfortably on his bed, watching as Blake stared down at his new boner. The older brother had to stifle a laugh, not mocking him, but it was kind of adorable how lost Blake looked in Lenny’s underwear. “And when you’re not practicing, a lot of the guys will be willing to help you clear your head, if you catch my drift.”

“Okay, but what do I do with it NOW!” Blake asked, “I’m not even going to be able to go to class without thinking about slipping it into someone.”

“Stop being dramatic, dude.” Lenny sat up, fully facing his brother. He pointed to Blake’s dick, “That’s your new North star, courtesy of me. And if it’s giving too much trouble, you should let it lead the way.” Blake looked down at his boner, then followed to where it pointed to Lenny on the bed. A knowing smile, Lenny beckoned his brother closer with a finger. Blake slowly walked until he stood over Lenny’s lap. Yanking the boxer’s down, Lenny let Blake’s cock spring out, then grabbed at his younger brother’s ass. A powerful shove from behind, Blake’s cock disappeared into Lenny’s throat. 

Blake writhed and drooled over the foreign sensation. Following his big brother’s embedded instincts, Blake placed his hands on the back of Lenny’s head. The two found a pace with Lenny setting the lead, until he wasn’t. A switch went off in Blake and his body took over, shoving Lenny down on his cock, skull fucking his big bro, until his cock christened Lenny’s throat with heavy cream all gulped down. Blake’s cock fell out of Lenny’s mouth, defeated and coated in saliva. Finally, he could think again. All horny thoughts catapulted down into his brother’s stomach, for now.

Then Lenny wrapped his hand around his brother’s waist and pulled them both back into the bed, then flipped on top of him. “Now, it’s time I follow my north star.” Lenny smirked with the heat of his dick stuck between their two bodies and only growing warmer.

—

Okay, Tyler don’t freak out. Sure, you took your big brother's underwear. He’s a marathon biker and was out at the time. BUT how would you know that it’d make you grow? It was hard peddling down the street as your small body began to press against your clothes. Was it your shirt or shorts that vanished first? You can’t remember. What was easy to remember was your longer legs, jumbling up the vehicle making it hard to maneuver. Adjusting your posture, to keep momentum and not crash, your spine snapped straighter. Poor Tyler, you didn’t even know your butt was blowing up, swallowing up the seat.

When the bike changed, that was more concerning. The entire design lost its electric blue for a slate-gray, as the front pulled forward. The wheels got thinner as their radius expanded. That’s when your shirt popped off as your chest came into fruition. Oh, you could barely see over those tits as you went on. Why couldn’t you stop? Maybe it was your ass thrusting you higher in the air, generating more power, pushing your journey further.

Come on Tyler, your short’s split and your brother’s underwear was out. Your secret was exposed, no one was looking, but the whole world could see if they wanted to. That’s when your face changed, jaw sharpening as your throat reformed to hit a new register. Then came the bulge, your cock had never protruded in that way before, but your brother’s did. The tattoo on your legs, the chain around your neck, your hat turned backwards on your head, All your brother’s style.

You finally came to a complete stop, able to get your body under control. Sitting off the dusty road’s edge was your brother looking smug, knowing what you’d done. Realization hit hard. From the moment you picked up his underwear, your inner monologue was his voice. MY VOICE. 

Heh, didn’t think you had it in you little bro: To steal my shit. Did you enjoy having me in your head? That bulge in my underwear sure looks like you did.

Now get over here so I can get a closer look.

—

“Let’s get this clear Ty, I didn’t tell you to do shit,” Jeremiah stated. Two black men were currently in Jeremiah’s room where only one had existed second’s prior. Jeremiah was standing up looking over to what should have been his younger brother in the gaming chair.

“I know,” Ty rubbed the back of his head,” But all the cool stuff is in your room.” He spoke with a voice far deeper than he had ever possessed. His body was immaculate plucked from Jeremiah's wettest dream.  Never in his life would he ever think he’d have such an effect on his younger brother. His sibling had been turned into a man in every aspect, the facial hair, the pecs, eight abs. More importantly Jeremiahs compression shorts that Ty was wearing were the real star. Thick, skull crushing thighs and a fat ass being sat upon, appetizers too the long cock very visible.

Jeremiah looked good in his compression shorts, but Ty had made the damn things his bitch. It was surprising the thin material hadn’t given up like the rest of Ty’s clothes. Ty knew better than to sneak into his brother’s room. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jeremiah who had banned Ty from his room, rather than their dad.

His words being to them both, “Look Jeremiah’s like me. He’s a whole lotta man, it’s hard not to be influenced by him. He needs his own space.” At the time Jeremiah just thought that was his dad’s way of saying he needed to wear deodorant. But now it seemed his dad actually had a point in keeping Ty out. It was like Jeremiah’s Compression shorts channeled his testosterone directly into his brother. And holy fuck did his brother look more potent than him. 

“Ugh, Dad’s gonna kill me,” Jeremiah dragged his hands down his face. 

“Yeah maybe.” Ty responded in Jeremiah’s laid-back type-tone, no care whatsoever.

“He’s probably going to kill you too.” the words were said to get a specific reaction out of his brother that never came. 

“Well then, he’ll kill us when he gets us. But no use in just wasting time. I gotta drain my balls and I bet you do too. Might as well stroke it out.”

Jeremiah shook his head, Ty got his horniness too, but if they were in trouble any way…draining his balls now with a stud was as good of a time as any.

—

Jordan stole Randall’s boxers out of the washing machine. It was early morning and no one else was going to know. Randall, his older brother, had moved back in with the family after college, and Jordan often caught a glimpse of the boxers. Mysterious things. And now here he was, having slipped them on looser and freer than the briefs, their mom condemned Jordan too. The novelty only lasted a moment as a surge erupted inside of Jordan. His body shook and the house shook with him. Jordan couldn’t utter a single word as his bones snapped and popped. His height was soaring, body changing.

No one came rushing downstairs, despite all the commotion. Only Jordan saw his action figures, scattered across the living room, get shaken out of existence, fading into nothing as various dumbbells replaced them. His shoes by the door stretched, mouths widening as Jordan’s soles expanded. The plain design was overwritten by an athletic one. They didn’t stop until they were almost indistinguishable from Randall’s in size. In the end, two sets of tennis sat next to each other. On the coat rack, Jordan’s coat morphed as the heat in his chest encouraged it to. His traps shoved his shoulders aside so that his chest could pump up. As pecs rose to prominence, abs formed following their example. A healthy dose of muscle mass was forced into his arms and legs, earning him jock proportions. His new coat hung, slim, stylish, and large.

A change erupted across every family picture as the still images of Jordan went through the same transformation. The integrity of Jordan's face gave way as his bone structure removed all fat, accentuating its own features for an older look. His mop of curly hair whipped up and reformed itself into a trendier look, trimmed on the sides, curls kept at the top and front. A cut reminiscent of Randall’s sensibilities. Meanwhile, the photos stamped Jordan’s new face into their ink, solidifying it in reality. Jordan stumbled back, body hitting the counter with force. The house's shaking finally stopped.

As Jordan looked down at himself, he saw not only his brother’s boxers, but Randall’s chain and socks as well. Well, they were brothers. Twins even. It wasn't odd for them to borrow each other’s stuff. He had snuck down here to have something to wear. Right? Maybe more curious was the boner Jordan was getting. Pitching a tent in his big bro’s underwear?  He didn’t usually go around popping boners. Actually, he couldn’t even recall the last time he did. Oh well, maybe his brother would have some answers, once Jordan woke him up. Randall had always loved Jordan’s cock up his ass for a morning rise.

—

Wesley was shocked when he stepped into his bathroom, and found his little brother, Milton, wearing his socks and red Hanes boxers. It was supposed to be Wesley’s private area hence the half-naked man on the wall by the toilet. He finally had his own place, and a private bathroom even his parents couldn’t see. Why did he allow his brother to come visit him?

“Personal space much?” Wesley stated, trying to downplay it. He scratched his head; there was something off about Milton. Not the stance: One leg bent up on the tub, the other still on the floor, arms crossed. Milton was always trying to show off. A good pose considering all the muscle he was packing. His biceps looked extra nice.  Maybe that was it, had he filled out, bulked more…nah Milton had always been big. Then again, had he? Wasn’t he visiting during semester break—

“What’s this about?” Milton nodded his head back to the photo.  

“It’s a guy.” Wesley shrugged, not dealing with this.

“Yeah, no shit it’s a guy. Why’s it in your bathroom?” Milton asked.

“Why do you think?” Wesley shot back. “Here’s a better question, why are you? And why are you wearing my clothes?”

Milton looked down at himself, confused. “I am?” he looked around, “Did your bathroom get smaller?” 

“No.” Wesley sighed, “Must have been all the weed you’ve been smoking on tour. “I see you got another tat,” He pointed to Milton’s arms covered in a respectable smattering of tattoos.

“Hey, first of all, it’s hard being a rockstar. Secondly, I haven’t smoked since the last time I was here. Thirdly, tatts look cool.”

“You haven’t, why not?”

“Don’t know, I think my big brother said something about liking my natural smell last time? So, when the band came into town I figured I’d use my spare key to sneak in. Thought it’d be nice to put something of yours on.”

“And?”

“And I was right; your shit is comfortable as hell.” He leaned forward on his bent leg.

Wesley smirked, strolling into his bathroom and kissing Milton, until his younger brother’s cock begged to be freed. Reaching into the waistband, Wesley stroked it. How long had the two been seeing each other like this? Had to be years at this point. Honestly, Wesley couldn't quite remember how it started, perhaps catching his brother in his underwear even back then. Milton looked up to the then-punk teen so maybe it was fate, Milton would start working out and form a rock band. Now, he toured all over the country but always made stops at his brother’s city.

“I want that guy gone.” Milton said between kisses, “Then I’ll fuck you.”

“Fine.” Wesley relented, “But I will be putting a picture of you up there.”

“Good. Should have done that in the first place.” Milton growled with pleasure as his brother continued jerking him off.

—

Santiago, are you happy now?

Why did you take the underwear? Was it just because of the design on it? Who are you kidding, of course that’s the reason. They weren’t boxers or even boxer-briefs. They were FULL ON BRIEFS. What was your older brother doing rocking briefs? When did he wear them? Why did he wear them?

If anyone in the house deserved to wear briefs, it was you! So, snatching them up wasn’t stealing, it was justice. You slipped them on in the living room. The warmth was unbearable and it started all at your crotch. It bulged like a lump, right over Batman’s body as your glutes swelled in the back. Next it was your legs, sending you higher in the air as hair began to poke over them. Thighs expanding, calves bulking, feet extending. It looked like your brother’s legs were attached to you. Pecs rushed out of your chest, spilling into the air with dark nipples.  Your shoulders were titanic, compared to before and spread wide. Arms that looked more appropriate on a warrior found themselves attached to you, biceps and forearms ready. Your face was the last to go, stubble rising over your lower jaw, eyebrows growing bushier. When your head elongated as your jaw lengthened. Did it feel good? How about when your hair reshaped into your brother’s proper style, dark strands brushed down perfectly.

Then it was done. Was wearing your brother's briefs everything you hoped it would be? You were as old as him, standing in his underwear. Felt awesome to stroke your cock as memories rushed into your head, matching you to your body. Of course, your legs shook when you came, as your new balls shot their first load into your brother’s undies. Thank god the windows were close, or the whole neighborhood would have heard you. Was your orgasm earth-shattering?

Your brother found you. ‘Found’ wasn't the right word. He was the only one home to hear the moan you let out. A moan that sounded eerily similar to his yet had not left his mouth. He came downstairs to find you Santiago, still spewing ropes into his underwear. 

That led to this interrogation: you hiked up on a chair, defiant with all of your older brother’s confidence. No conscious awareness of what you were putting on display for him. Was it the third or fourth time his eyes homed in on your package, that little Santiago started responding to the attention. Now Santiago, you knew exactly what you were doing when you thrusted your hips forward. Your package jiggled and more of your ass was on display. Whatever speech your brother had been giving you, stopped completely. He knew what you were offering for him to shut the fuck up. And he was going to take it.

Oh Santiago, you’re very happy now, aren’t you?

—

Hayden snapped the photo for proof, texting it directly to his friend. “Dude, I’m fucking telling you this is Bennett. My lil bro put on my underwear, I think our dad mixed them up? and turned into a fucking Adonis in his own right.”

Smith’s reply was quick, “Wait, so you still wear tighty-whities no wonder your dad mixed them up 😛.”

“Be so fucking for real right now bro, briefs give me the best support. Not that I’d expect you to understand needing that.” Hayden typed back, moaning.

“Ouch, you've wounded me 😂. But come on, I can tell that’s you. Like you even forgot to take your socks off. And as if I wouldn’t know that ass and bulge outside of the locker room. Don’t know why you’d AI an older version of Bennett’s face on it though? Your face is (mostly) hot enough.” Smith’s joking voice was radiating through the electronic message.

Hayden sighed, fingers working, as he adjusted his seating “Look, I get that he kinda resembles me. Like those are my pecs and abs sitting on his body, my height that he’s strolling around the house in. But underneath that, it’s still him. He put my socks on because he likes them.  He even got his morning OJ. When’s the last time you’ve seen me drink OJ? Never!”

“Are you bragging about being vitamin C deficient? 💀 Weird flex, but okay.” Smith’s phone was still typing then sent, “So your briefs made your brother older? Okay I’ll bite, how’s he adjusting?”

Thrusting his hips excitedly, Hayden responded. Finally, he could talk about the weirdness of that morning with someone. “That’s the thing, Bennett’s fine. He wants to be called Ben now. He’s even listed on our university’s swimming team. Right between men and you, but like no one remembers him.”

“Holy shit so your underwear recruited your little bro, That’s kind of awesome! What are you going to do now?”

“Don’t know. Maybe I can start selling my underwear on eBay or something? People might pay good money to have their sons turn into athletes.”  Hayden took a hand off the phone, running it through hair.

“Idiot, I’m talking about your bro, not your wallet. I mean even if the coach accepts him on the team, he has to do initiation. The team isn’t going to go easy on him, especially looking like that.”

“What do you think I’m doing, dumbass.” Hayden smugly replied.

“You fucker.”

Hayden leaned over to toss his phone on the dining room table. He was seated far from its edge and in between the gap of his chair and the table was Ben on all fours sucking his cock. After downing his orange juice, Ben immediately began to service Hayden. A common practice of the swim team at his college. Their team building ritual where a senior like Hayden expected underclassmen to clamor for his cock. Have your teammates’ kids swimming inside you, while you cut through the water. He never thought his younger brother would be the one doing it. Or that Ben would know exactly what made Hayden’s cock hard. Ben gargled Hayden’s balls, huffed his blond pubes, then would just swallow his dick in one motion. He had acquired Hayden’s deep throating skills. 

It was so damn good, it felt like an edge session. Hayden wanted it to last but also wanted to blow. A master in his own right, Ben won his older brother’s cum. Hayen’s cock spewed endlessly as he reached his crescendo. Creamy brotherly ropes shot across Ben’s tongue and down his throat.  Ben sucked slower, coaxing more of his nephews out of his brother's cock. When the dick was dead, fat as fuck but limp, Ben let it drop out of his mouth and slap against Hayden’s thigh.

“Looks like you saw heaven bro,” Ben laughed down on the ground, looking up at Hayden wrecked.

“I didn’t…know you kept… heaven in your mouth.” Hayden said, catching his breath between words.

“Heh, maybe I have what it takes after all.” Ben flipped his hair out of his eyes.

—

The story started at the point of contact. Not in a shared living space, but in 2nd grade.

Ravi Crivelli and Pierce Donaldson had a lot in common. The most important part of which was both being younger siblings, who preferred staying indoors over the company of others. Ravi’s older brother, Damon, was on his way to being the town quarterback for a few years, people loved him and praised his throwing arm. Pierce’s brother, Arthur, was on the baseball team and skilled in his own right, hitting home runs easily.

Growing up there was only ever one real debate between the boys: Who’s older brother was cooler? Not something they could settle head-on as their brothers ran in different social circles. There was no chance the two would ever meet even when their brothers begged. Even attempting to start a feud between them didn’t compel Arthur or Damon to act. They didn’t care to compete against a stranger for respect points from their younger siblings. 

Years passed and eventually Ravi and Pierce grew out of the ‘siblings competing’ stage of childhood and moved on. Damon and Arthur went off to college. Every year they’d return during their breaks, talk about their sport, classes, love life, and friends. There was never much new information, just prepackaged responses that sounded more at home in a sitcom. So indeed, it was a big shock when during a Crivelli and Donaldson joint Christmas dinner, the two brothers announced they’d be moving together after graduating. The room had gone silent. No one was upset, just shocked. Damon and Arthur had arrived in the same car back from college and that had already put people in a spin. For all the years their little brothers knew each other, neither older brother seemed interested in meeting the other. 

Now here they were announcing their relationship in front of both their families. Questions flew back and forth.  When did it happen? How? Who confessed first? Why do they wait until now?

Arthur spoke up first, stretching in his chair. “I think we always liked each other, but didn’t want to risk it, you know?”

Damon continued, “And when our little bros became friends it was awesome, but it wasn’t like that was a good conversation starter. Not to mention,” He rubbed Ravi’s head, "These guys were always trying to get us to fight. So, I thought there was a good chance he’d sock me if we ever met.”

“Then one day, I saw him on campus and I thought: why not?”

“Saw him walking up to me and thought the same.” Damon shrugged, “Next thing I know we’re back in my dorm and he’s tossing me on the bed—

“Ahem!” Mr. Crivelli gave a fake cough, head nodding towards the boys.

“So anyways,” Arthur picked up the conversation, “we got to know each other better.”

As they stated they did indeed move together, and their brother pestered them for a visit all the time! Their parents did as well, but they were only relenting to one force, and their brothers were the lesser of the two evils.

So, Ravi and Pierce arrived at their older brothers' love nest, and it was…actually quite boring. Two cool dudes in the same space did not make for a sick ass party pad. Video games, a few posters but what else? The city was more of the main star of their trip. Skyscrapers, food carts, rude drivers. The two loved it all, they had their brothers take them everywhere. No one could recall when the few sneezes or coughing fits started, but it got worse. Eventually, Ravi and Pierce were holed up in the Loft while their brothers went and got takeout and medicine. 

Strangely neither actually felt all that sick, tired made be but nothing strenuous on the body. Ravi sat on one end of the couch blanket over his legs, while Pierce’s entire body, except his head, was wrapped up. Their eyes would creep over to the other and roam their figure before their eyes met. A game of cat and mouse. They couldn’t help it. This was more than a friend hangout session, even the air was changing between.

“Do you smell that?” Pierce sat up sniffing. “Smells good.”

“Yeah…really good.” Ravi said, confused. The two got up off the couch, moving their tired bodies towards the source: Their brothers’ room. The aroma was all over, deeply in the walls in the clothes. They hadn’t figured it out yet, but it was pheromones. The two found a way into their brothers’ shared bed, heads buried in pillows, hips grinding. Then they passed out. As they slept their bodies changed, accepting the influx of their brother’s mixture. Ravi’s clothes faded away as a pair of Damon’s boxers appeared on him. Pierce’s clothes did the same as Arthur’s brief clutched tightly to his waist. They’re bodies grew, stealing all the free space on the bed. 

Ravi’s body cut as mass filled him out. Chest hair broke out over his pecs, and a light dusting went down to his brother’s boxes. His face cracked as Damon’s features granted him a beard and mustache. Light body hair covered his forearm and legs. The front of the boxers stretched as a big cock pressed against it. His ass firmed up stronger than ever, ready to power his leg.,

Pierce got muscle too, but he kept stretching beyond even Ravi. He bulged in Arthur's briefs, but it was his ass that bubbled out the most. His own features solidified but didn’t harden in the same way Ravi’s had. There was an inherent softness that his older brother bestowed on him, as Pierce’s body kept a genetic smoothness until his legs. 

When the two got up the confusion and screams didn’t last long. They wanted something more than each other. Which is how they ended up invading each other’s personal space.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you man.” Ravi said with a foreign voice not quite his or his brother’s. A string of words that sounded half like an apology and an obvious fact.

“Not if I fuck you first.” Pierce cooed back, voice even deeper.

They were feeling exactly what their brothers felt for each other. No denying it. And why would they when the sexual tension was all consuming. A tug of war between what they wanted and what they shouldn’t do. Ravi and Pierce thought they loved each other before, but this was a layer that deepened their connection. 

Their bodies moved closer, Ravi held Pierce's arms up by the wrist with one hand, his other sliding behind the curve of his friend’s back. The heat of Pierce's bulge rested above his own.

They kissed.

—

Damon and Arthur opened the door to their apartment, delayed by traffic, to find Ravi’s ass slamming into Pierce on the floor. He moves like a piston shoving his cock in before sliding it out.

“Fuck, take this cock man.” he growled.

Pierce was bent like a pretzel, legs up by his face, toes curling, as he moaned out, brain going stupid. Ravi pounded his ass with all of Damon’s skill, claiming it for himself. He was relentless. Hips shaking, as his own ass jiggled in the air, creamy cum spilled from the center of those cheeks. 

“Gonna knock you up on the fucking floor? Is that what you want? For me to dump my kids in you on this floor, like you did me? 

“Hell yeah, give’em to me!”

“FUCK!!!!” The apartment shook, when his balls rose and emptied themselves deep into Pierce’s ass. The two collapsed. “Oh, hey bros.” Ravi said, sweaty.

“What’s up,” Pierce gave a half-hearted wave, huffing.

—

When Detective Lance got the call that morning he was confused. He had to travel a city over to help with a missing case. It was a story he was somewhat familiar with as the rumor mill and even local news picked up on it. After all, what went missing wasn’t a person, or an object, rather an entire place. Davio Park, which sat just at the edge of town, sizable and known for its greenery and community garden, was gone one morning. ‘Gone’ wasn’t quite right either, there was still a park, but it wasn’t Davio, every sight and landmark had been replaced with sporting grounds. Basketball courts, a football and soccer field, and a baseball diamond all perfectly nestled into the land as if they had always existed.

Oh, the citizens were angry at first, wondering how such a prank was accomplished, but then the unsettling feeling kicked in. There was no way anyone had done an overnight swap out. In fact, a few neighbors that had their cameras pointed at the park got nothing but static moments before something new sat in their little town. People walked through it as a short cut, but no one overstayed their welcome. There were no dog parks or playgrounds to be found, to entice them further. If anything, the park was reported as feeling off-putting. Joggers, runners, and dog walkers alike all reported they felt like something was watching them. 

Detective Lance felt it too the moment he stepped into the park himself. Like crossing a threshold. The air was too crisp, grass too green. Not noticeable until one was already in the belly of the beast. Even laced with ‘honey’, it was a trap that the new place couldn’t quite pull off, and yet some flies still got caught. Philip Doran was serving as Detective Lance’s guide. Most other people were too afraid to enter now. The young man was not some influencer type, gym bro, nor seasoned athlete. He was a former ‘fly’ lured in by the park.

In his own words, there was no spell or compulsion, just pure curiosity among him and his friends. The fear and trepidation many of the older citizens had for the place had not crossed their minds.  People heard laughter and merriment when the youth found their way into the grounds. Everything seemed fine for a while but soon laughs and running were replaced by grunts and stomping. Anyone smiling watching the scene soon had a frown on their face as the sight of all the people at play blurred like a mirage as hardened statuesque bodies replaced all the figures. 

Fun was gone, only intensity drove bodies forward, crashing into each other as sounds of confusion made their way into the neighborhood. 

They arrived at the basketball courts. Detective Lance watched as Philip leaned on the fence talking more about what happened. His eyes slowly wandered down Philip’s frame. Was he being lied to? Was the entire town in on some big hoax? People didn’t grow to be as big as Philip randomly. Would be quite the trick to deceive a detective. Then there was Philip’s ass, a high muscled bubble gum booty. How was a detective supposed to believe that wasn’t naturally trained through the years, but bestowed on a random afternoon?

Despite the Detective’s lust, he stayed quiet as Philip looked over the grounds, no doubt remembering who he once was before stepping foot there. They stepped in, Detective Lance following Philip. 

“My friends and I were here when it happened,” He shared. “I couldn’t even reach the…,” there was a spark in his eyes. “I think I can do it now. Want to see something cool?” He ran, jumped, and did a little spin before grabbing the rim of the basketball hoop hanging there.

“See, I told ya I could do it!” 

Detective Lance kept his mouth shut, he had thoughts, but watching the man hang there was a better use of his time. There were talks that everyone who played in the park that day came back 'different. Codeword for hotter, but even Lance had to admit it was more than physical appearance. Something was drawing the detective to continuously feast on the sight that was Philip’s body.

Next up was the dugout for the baseball field, Philip hadn’t been there, but all the changes happened at the same time.

“Is any of this helping?” Philip asked. His shirt rose slightly, revealing a showing of skin. The position of his legs had his thighs and calves showing off. Meanwhile the fingers of his left hand clung to the top of the dugout’s fence once again highlighting his incredible size. A free show the detective didn’t mind watching. There was something about seeing a man in his element.

A record scratch played in Detective Lance’s head. Philip’s ‘element’ was artificial; he wasn't born into this; the grounds had crafted him into an athlete. So why had the thought so easily slipped into the detective’s mind?

“Yeah, it is,” Detective Lance nodded, moving on with Philip kicking rocks behind him. 

Detective Lance was a lot of things, but an idiot wasn’t one of them. Why was he having thoughts that hadn’t existed prior to stepping into the park? Why were his eyes, even now, preferring to stick to Philip’s form than examine the site? A cheap parlor trick, to distract people. But this was sloppy, Detective Lance could see the sleight of hand. Everyone in town was able to as well. Ungraceful, inelegant. Was that the point? How long until the next group of wandering kids, curious teens, or daredevil wannabe YouTubers walked on these grounds again?

The two left the park, walking around the perimeter. Detective Lance wanted an outside view of the grounds. Now that he’d stepped on it, would he see anything differently? He certainly hadn’t physically changed like the others in his time there.

 Philip pulled his shirt off stating, “Sorry, it’s hot.” Then he leaned back on the fence, and the clatter of his solid back made the metal rattle. Detective Lance turned to find his new companion posing, the pecs and abs Philip had been awarded on view. Then Philip spoke, a subtle difference in his voice, more assured, wanting, “We can continue investigating, but I’d prefer to go to your car and blow off some steam, you?” 

There it was. Detective Lance caught it. He had an undeniable urge to say yes. He was going to say yes, but he’d also solved it. What if the wool being pulled over one’s eyes wasn't obvious. The park, the new men in town. The surface level trick intentionally produced to be out of place. Philip's shift in demeanor was different, before he had been unknowingly showing off his body, now there was an unshakable confidence. Was it possible for the park to leave its mark on the people it changed; imbue them with itself. Farfetched? Absurd? Absolutely, but he couldn’t imagine anyone other than the culprit attempting to distract him so blatantly. At this point in the investigation though the only culprit they had was the park itself. Who was to say it didn’t want to be human several times over?

But it was just an inkling of a theory. Once they were back in his car and Detective Lance had his cock buried in that tight jock ass in the back seat, perhaps then Philip would share more secrets. It is easy to test his theory and see if a park’s first orgasm could have it dishing out its own secrets.

 Detective Lance looked back at Philip, “You’re right. Let’s head back to my car.”

Time to test that theory.

—

Last week, it hadn't been a struggle for Ramiro to be around Dave. Ramiro hadn’t even existed last week. 7 days ago, Ramiro Moreno had been Ian Beckinsale. Dave’s son. The same golden blonde hair and blue eyes. Him and his dad were direct neighbors to Ms. Gretchen. They didn’t concern themselves with her. Not in a cruel way, Dave would always wave and make small talk, but it was often clear she was a woman who moved with purpose. She had places to go and people to talk to. Not to mention the litany of men she often had leaving her place.

Ian Beckinsale, however, was more curious than his dad. He’d often take a peek over the fence and see a pool waiting. Unused. Unloved. Sometimes Ms. Gretchen would be out there tanning with a guy, walking around the pool. Neither ever seemed that interested in the actual water. So, at night when the coast was clear, Ian would sneak into the yard and play in the pool. He was cautious those first few times and would never splash too loud. But it became clear on the nights, the yard was vacant, no one was coming to check on him.

Dave actually struck up more of a friendship with the pool boy, Agustín. The young man was her best kept secret. Dave happened to be trimming his tree when he got a look over the backyard fence. Agustín Moreno was out back in his underwear, skin tanned by the sun as he cleaned the pool. A conversation was struck up, then another the next day, and the next. Until Agustín had both Beckinsales in Ms. Gretchen’s backyard during the day.

“Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want to get you in trouble.” Dave said standing behind Ian, one hand on his boy’s shoulder.

 Agustín sucked his teeth, “She doesn’t mind who I let use the pool as long as it’s clean.” 

With that Dave let Ian take off into the pool as the two talked. When they joined Ian, they had a three-way race, a splash off, then the day ended with Agustín playing his guitar. The sun was setting, a soft breeze blowing, and Agustín and Dave were sitting super close. Ian had been too preoccupied with himself at the time, but looking back, there was no mistaking the look in his dad’s eyes: He wanted Agustín BADLY. Ian had known his father was gay but hadn’t once thought about his father’s desires.

Ian, however, didn't stop his nightly trips, if anything he felt more compelled to sneak out of bed and hop in the pool. At the time he never knew where Agustín disappeared to on those nights, but the pool house being dark was always a sign the coast was clear.

Soon the three of them were in Ms. Gretchen’s backyard every day. 

“Why do you wear those?” Dave reached over and snapped Agustín’s wet underwear band. The three of them were drying off after an afternoon of swimming. “Should I get you some actual trunks?”

“Oh, Ms. Gretchen’s just a fan of it.” The young man laughed, sitting up, “She prefers how it clings."

“Ah,” Dave nodded. 

Ian was dozing off, but he saw the way his dad eyed the underwear. Were they really that cool? His eyes were closed before he knew it. Ian didn’t know how long he slept, but he woke up a little after he felt his dad’s presence leave his side.

It was dark out.

He listened as the older voices got further and further away. Slowly he began to rise, rubbing his eyes. Ian wandered to the pool house where a light was on. Sliding into the open door he walked through the darkened humble abode. He saw Agustín standing around in the bathroom, playing with his face in the mirror.

“It’s a pretty nice place you got here.” Ian's dad came out of the bedroom.

Agustín spun quickly on his feet and took another cooler position.

“Glad you like it. You could always stay the night.”  Agustín added.

“Ehhh, I think that might be pushing it with Ms. Gretchen.” 

“Well, if you change your mind.”

Ian couldn’t see what happened next, but his dad stepped forward and closed the distance between himself and Agustín. Taking the time, Ian walked back outside and laid down stargazing just as his father stepped out of the pool house. Dave squatted down and rubbed his son’s head, “Time to go home, I'm ready for bed.” 

Agustín walked them out, then waved goodbye. Ian took one last look. An odd sight for him: to see the pool boy at night. Agustín’s underwear was on Ian’s mind the whole night. Ian had never seen underwear that looked like that nor that people just got into the water with. His dad, however, looked at Agustín the whole afternoon. Dave probably thought Ian didn’t notice, but he did. If his dad liked Agustín so much in the underwear, would he like Ian more in underwear like that? Could Ian be as cool as Agustín?

He’d get his answer the following night. When Ian went for his usual late-night swim, he saw them both out there. Agustín and Ms. Gretchen. They ran around the pool until he wrapped her in a behind hug, not letting the older lady escape. They shared a laugh.

“So, tell me about our new neighbor." She inquired.

“Oh, he’s a good one. Got a son already, so I know he can get the job done, but I gotta tell ya he wants me so bad. I’ve been buttering him up for weeks to present to you and he hasn’t taken the bait. Every time he manages to turn it back to me. He’s kinda smooth that way. Definitely think he’s gay, Ms. Gretch.”

The lady snuggled in Agustín’s arms, “Well, until you hear him say it, one never knows. He could just be interested in you, or bi, or pan.” She turned her head and kissed Agustín’s face. “That’s what makes you such good bait to weed them out, my bisexual disaster.”

“Anything for you, Gretch.”

“Anything huh?” She said smugly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re keeping him for yourself.” A hand gently grabbed Agustín’s chin and face. “You want him to have you in the pool house where everyone can hear you, don’t you? She brought their faces together and kissed him. “I’ll allow it, but first…” She moved out of Agustín’s arm, then unfastened her bra, walking backwards towards the house, eyes on Agustín. After she disappeared inside, she hung an arm out and dropped them. Agustín pulled down his underwear, chasing her inside. 

Ian waited for the voices to fade until it was clear they weren’t coming back. He was confused about what they wanted his dad for but strolled inside the backyard regardless. There he saw Agustín’s underwear lying there forgotten. It wasn't curiosity that drove Ian’s next actions, it was jealousy. A guy moves in next door and suddenly has his dad’s attention? Well, Ian wanted it back and those underwear were going to help him. He took off his own trunks before sliding into Agustín’s. The black fabric was way too big and loose for his body, but Ian was satisfied. 

Then all at once, a tremor shook from within him and sought a way out. The tremor dispersed itself across his body, journeying through all the limbs. When it danced on his spine and legs, Ian grew exponentially. There was now more flesh and larger muscles to work through. His shoulder developed into a large width, alongside a prominent collarbone that preceded his pecs protrusion. The aftershock made his ass pop, bigger and bigger. On the other side, Ian’s cock snaked longer, and his ball hung heavier making his package swell.

Ian’s golden blonde hair turned a healthy sheen of rich dark brown. The same color as Agustín’s as the new coloring encroached and imposed itself on his body. His baby blues were done away with as the trademark Agustín-brown stamped themselves into existence. The soft edges of his face matured and elongated into sharper versions. His pecs popped again and their pink nipples turned brown, darker than Agustín’s and larger, begging to be sucked. Abs came in mimicking Agustín’s, as the belly fat was done away with.

The tremors made his feet and hands grow in size, but there was still no escape. Ian’s body had transformed, getting older and stronger than before. Leaner, but no less fit, than Agustín’s. The tremors coalesced back in Ian’s head as new memories shook themselves into existence. Agustín was his older brother and helped Ian—no, not Ian— Ramiro, get this job. Then he got a flood of desires copied directly from Agustín as images of his own father flooded his head in a new light. Ramiro’s ripened balls couldn’t take the intensity of his brother’s desire and came inside the underwear passing out.

The next morning, Agustín woke his younger brother up as the sun was rising. Agustín had no memories of Ian or his father. All the memories the three had made together were only known to Ramiro. The new world Ramiro woke up in had replaced Agustín with himself going after Dave, his former father. The Moreno brothers were a skilled team at weeding out men for Ms. Gretchen, but Dave was Ramiro’s solo target. Mostly because in this new reality Ms. Gretchen wasn’t afraid to ride Agustín’s cock more freely, as there was an extra person to watch the pool. 

Today, however, Ramiro would do more than entertain a guest. Once the second plate of watermelon was gone, his lips were around Dave’s cock. The man’s pants flung off to the side. A strange sensation for Ramiro. To suckle on the cock that made him and yet hadn’t. The taste and smell were exquisite as Dave lovingly cupped his head. His former dad didn’t rush or command. The two simply understood each other. Then Dave’s cock exploded, sending Ramiro’s ex-brothers and sisters across his tongue and down his throat. 

Dave’s legs were shaking as he caught his breath, “I don’t have a pool, but…what if you worked for me?” The look on his face was dazed and love struck.

Ramiro Moreno found his way back inside the Beckinsale house. He even got his old room again. From pool boy to house boy. Never once did Dave mention Agustín. Ramiro was the cool one in the man’s eyes. Ramiro didn't even have to do anything, much like with his brother, it was hard to consider what he did ‘work’ in any capacity. Maybe he cleaned the house here and there, but it wasn’t so bad. After all, it helped establish a routine.

“Morning, Son!” Dave would say kissing Ramiro on the cheek, he started to really love that phrase and Ramiro never contested it. There was also something he said was undeniable about Ramiro calling him ‘dad’. “Coffee smells good today.” Dave would wrap him from behind.

“You say that every day.” Ramiro laughed, pouring a cup of coffee with a hard cock pressing into his ass cheeks. He had a hoodie on for the cold, but the mornings were typically for being pantless. Dave had his own favorite uniform for Ramiro to wear. Something that really put Ramiro’s best assets on display. 

“Only because it’s true,” Dave lifted Ramiro up, and sat him on the table, legs spread wide. Time for the man’s favorite question of the day. Who was going to be drinking and who was going to get something more. Ramiro lifted his hoodie as a reminder for what was available, then he asked it:

“Alright dad, coffee or cock this morning?”

A tug on the dad’s shorts was all it took for him to understand his son wanted his sunglasses. With one swift motion the man had the glasses on the boy. Turning away, the father and son walked out, following the female. Apollo thought that’d be it of the annoying family, but soon he heard the pitter patter of footsteps heading back his way. The boy had returned, sunglasses on, poking his head into the room, before walking in and staring Apollo down. The god of light watched the tiny human wander closer, no doubt in awe of his beauty. Curious, as perhaps all humans were, the mortal got close to the display. He reached up putting his hand on Apollo’s outstretched one. The connection was instant. Body, soul, and divinity all reunited. As the god prepared to transfer his divine self, the boy disappeared. He didn’t run out or walk away. He was there one minute, gone the next. His clothes crumpled to the ground, as Apollo watched his salvation disappear. 

A deep emptiness filled Apollo that immediately dispersed inside him and hollowed him out. It wasn’t metaphorical, Apollo sensed the inner makings of his marble vanish. There was then a voice.

“Uh, dad?” it asked. Freighted. Afraid.

The voice came from Apollo, not his mouth, or his head, but rather actually within him. Where the inner stone had been scooped out a mortal now filled him. Apollo’s body and soul were encased in his divinity. The mortal's name was Valentin López, his thoughts were fully accessible to the god now. There was no time for either to panic as the mortal began to change. The god could feel his power seeping to fill the body within him. Hidden from the world, the mortal grew within Apollo. The god could sense his limbs growing heavier as warm flesh filled him. There was no logical sense to what was happening other than divine power. Apollo’s divinity had been degraded to nothing more than a cocoon for his body and soul as it reshaped itself. He began to breathe as his chest moved and his nose drew in air after ages.

Cracks began to form over his smooth form as his divinity was continuously drained to a deeper part of himself. His chest slotted into place as his pecs filled up, with his abs matching the chiseled cuts. Glutes popped into bubbled perfection as the bulge filled in the front. Apollo not only felt it in his interior, but he also sensed his seed weighing heavy in his balls. There was motion and blood flowing to his cock once again. Rubble fell away, disappearing before hitting the floor. Skin was revealed, pristine and flawless as the statue it replaced. The carefully crafted and detailed clothing became as true as his flesh. Apollo emerged whole once again. The mortal’s body that had been trapped within Apollo had merged with the god’s handsomeness. 

Reunited he enjoyed the embrace of the world again. Tragic for the museum to lose such a center piece of its Greek art. But the god of light had his soul and body once more and all had been restored to a state befitting a god. He hopped off the pedestal stretching, whirring back to life as a god as a security guard strolled it.

“Who are you?” The man jumped, eyes scanning the half-naked body before him, confused.

The god looked back, his glorious backside and behind on display. He could trace the guard’s attention as the man got lost on the rump ahead of him.

“Blinded by my ass?” A smirk twitched at the edges of his mouth. Good to be back, and to show people the light. “You’re going to walk out of here and forget you ever saw me.” 

The guard nodded and walked out, his mind dazzled by divinity. Always a risk when encountering the god of light. 

Apollo recognized in the new era his clothes were out of touch. He needed a new wardrobe or else more humans would clock him. His eyes flew to where Valentin’s clothes lay. A temporary fix. He removed his clothes, electing not to let them fade into light, and placed them on the abandoned pedestal. The museum deserved something to remember him by. Then he got dressed in Valentin’s clothes, the first thing the god wanted were the sunglasses. A lingering desire from the boy he once was…also they were cool. Then came the clothes. The shirt was a non-starter, but the briefs went back on. Unfortunately, they couldn’t slide up the entirety of the ass Valentin’s body now had. No worries there, mortals deserved a show. When Apollo tried for the jeans, with a bit of magic they conformed but also found a struggle with his ass.

“Valentin, you in here? You’re mom’s ready to…” Mr.  López’s voice trailed off seeing Apollo get dressed. Took him a moment to register, Apollo was wearing Valentin’s outfit, except for the shirt left on the ground. The father pointed at it, then to the stranger that looked like a muscular version of his son.

“Oh, hey dad.” Apollo waved, nonchalant. The temporary magic in Valentin’s pants dispersed as if fell below his thighs, smaller once more. Apollo looked down disgruntled at his lower half and snapped his fingers to at least have his underwear fit. The white briefs morphed into boxer-briefs. Good enough. Apollo looked over at his body’s father. “Mind helping me get dress? There’s a whole world out there that needs some light.”

Mr. Lopez took a step forward, the protrusion from his crotch leading the way. He was going to dress the god and anything else Apollo desired.

No one could resist a call to the light.

—

Dirk’s situation was a bit more different. He was in the living room when it happened. His younger brothers were playing the GameCube emulation with a revamped old Mario game collection disk. Not much to do on a summer Sunday than hang around in the house in one's skivvies. Such was a tradition passed down by their dad, who was currently knocked out, still asleep in bed still.  However, Dirk had brought his gaming chairs into the living room so his brothers could play.

“I want to be player 1!” Tommy shouted.

“No, I want to be player 1!” Willis yelled back.

Their voices argued like that often and frequently especially when they were passionate. Dirk stood between their chairs and rubbed their heads, before he gently moved their heads in circles, and his brothers played along, “Little dudes, stop fighting. You’re going to wake dad up.”

“Sorry, Dirk.” They said in unison.

With a satisfied smile Dirk pushed the gaming chairs closer to the TV as they held to their respective arm rests laughing. He set up the game for them and made sure they knew exactly how to play. Then Dirk collapsed on the couch behind them, laying down, his favorite book in hand: Escape from the Dragon keep.

Snuggled up reading, he let his attention drift every so often to keep an eye on his brothers. The two were still arguing at a lower level. 

“You keep dying.” Willis said

“Stoopid, that's you!” Tommy said back.

Then Dirk got to a really good chapter, the hero had to escape Dragon Island. An intense chapter with magic and action, on every turn of the page. His eyes didn't leave the book. A squeak of his gaming chairs, a snide remark thrown between his brothers, Time passed on. Then there was a small grunt, didn’t even sound like his brothers, but the chapter was over, so he took a peek. They knew better than to put hands on each other. Looking up, he didn’t spot them throwing hands, the game was still going, and their legs dangled calmly off the floor. He turned his attention back to his book. 

The next chapter was slower. A big come down after a fierce fight. More squeaks as his brother’s bodies slid in their chairs. They just couldn’t stay still. He could tell because when he glanced their feet were closer to the ground. Back to his book, the slow pacing of the chapter got him yawing. His brothers coughed a few times, soft and quiet to start, then harsher and deeper a few minutes in. Were they having a cough competition?  Their coughs sounded fake, like they were trying to enhance them. The two were prone to spur of the moment contests like that so Dirk wasn’t surprised, otherwise he’d have gotten the medicine out. The coughing faded into the background as Dirk’s eyes grew heavier. Before he knew it, he was asleep.

When Dirk woke up, he gave a silent yawn stretching. He stood, headed directly for the kitchen, then poured himself some water, wiping sleep from his eyes. Only when he was heading back into the living room did he realize it: he hadn’t heard his brothers fight once, not even in a hushed tone. Maybe they actually had gotten sick. He grabbed the cough medicine and headed back to the living room.

Tossing and catching the bottle he asked, “You guys feeling o—-

The bottle clattered to the floor and rolled away as Dirk froze. Sitting in his gaming chairs, were not his little brothers. Jocks had taken their place. Sure, their faces held some vestiges of Willis and Tommy, but their bodies were more akin to athletes. They had pecs, arms, abs, and legs that stretched across the floor. Their bodies had been sculpted in a way Dirk only thought was possible to see in museums. These weren’t boys, these were bros. They looked older than him. They were older than. Their presence translated that to Dirk. Their bodies, the way they sat, the lack of arguing, all of it gave off a mature air. Only contrasted by their sky-blue underwear with images of a teddy bear on the strap. Which was immediately contrasted by the bulges in the front, how the fabric stretched to the back, and the huge sets of thighs coming out the leg holes.

Dirk was lost studying Tommy’s tattoos, wondering how upset dad was going to be about them when he heard, “Bro, you okay?” 

Tommy’s voice was deep, smooth, and rich. It flew into Dirk’s ears and settled into his chest.

“I think he’s better than okay,” A cocky smile sat on Willis face as he nodded to Dirk’s boxer’s. Dirk's eyes flew down; his cock had come out of his boxer’s fly. It was at full mast and there was no debating the reason why. He fumbled, trying to stuff it back in, as it just bobbed all over the place. He had to be having a weird dream. Maybe he imposed the two guys in his book onto his brother's positions.

“No need to hide it lil bro, just the guys here.” Willis added. His voice was much more abrasive, and booming, pure distilled jock in nature.

Dirk knew it wasn’t a dream, when his cock leaked precum onto his foot and the floor. He didn’t even sense it coming, just heard Willis’ voice, and was already amped up by Tommy’s voice, and like a trigger lost it. His cock bucked and there was just a slime trail running down. Dirk had never had that issue in his life growing up. Not in P.E., Not in the locker room, not even in the showers. Guys were hot, but they were never as hot as his brother’s now. His cock had turned faucet.

Willis reached over, with his thumb and forefinger and grasped the tip of Dirk’s cock, squeezing it before stealing the precum. “Fuckin sick, bro,” he said as if it were the coolest thing ever lifting the shimmering line up in the air. He tilted his head back, opened his mouth wide as he dropped it in, then swallowed. Dirk watched Willis’ Adams’ apple move and guide it down.

“Mmmm!” Willis licked his lips, “Tommy you gotta get a taste of this, Dirk’s really on it today!”

“Yeah sure, after the game.” Tommy said casually as he motioned to the screen. Dirk’s internal system crashed, hearing a much calmer and reasonable voice still claim to want his cock. 

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Tommy half stood up and swatted Dirk’s ass, “Go stand next to him little bro might cheer him up.”

Dirk found his legs responding before he even processed. Then his cock was just there next to Tommy's face.

“No thanks, I just want to game.” Tommy said as the two got back into it. Willis stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. But then a pause came when they won a level and Tommy’s fist found Dirk’s cock and stroked it. After that every time there was a lull or pause, Tommy’s hand was on his brother’s cock. The world's worst edging as Dirk’s cock wanted to rebel whenever it was let go. Dirk could have sat down. There was nothing physically stopping him, but then Tommy pressed his face on Dirk’s cock, nuzzling and kissing it. The way Tommy’s eyes looked at Dirk was too powerful to pull away from. Then Tommy would let Dirk’s cock hang there pressed against his face. 

Another level on the screen was won, but Dirk wasn’t looking because Tommy had fully stuffed his brother’s cock in his mouth for celebration. Footsteps came down the stairs, heavy weighted. Their dad was up. Dirk panicked that his dad was going to see him getting blown by strangers. And yet even knowing that, he couldn’t pull out. Their dad stepped into the living room, seeing all of them.

Willis gave a lazy wave, “Hey.”

“Good afternoon, sleepy head,” Tommy pulled off Dirk's cock. His warm mouth left Dirk’s dick in the cook air twitching.

“Dad!” Dirk shouted, his cock inched forward and bumped into Tommy’s face. It was too fucking much. His cock blasted all over his Older younger brother’s face, plastering it in white. Some shot into the air and landed on Willis.

“Oh shit,” Tommy said, noticing the hot jizz on his cheek. “Give a warning, next time,” he chuckled, tapping Dirk’s thigh, then Tommy slurped at the cum pouring out.  Dirk’s legs shook as his load was extracted out of him.  Meanwhile Willis looked unbothered by the cum on him. 

“Boys make sure you leave the living room clean at least.” Their dad groaned, walking into the kitchen. No questions about the strange men, or where Dirk’s brothers were. Their father wasn't bothered at all. 

More than his brothers’ ages were altered. Their entire family’s reality was changed. A world where Dirk was the younger brother to two post-college studs. Their lazy afternoon Sundays had devolved into unofficial ‘bro time’. No expectations of personal space with them as the older ones in charge. Surprisingly though with all the closeness, there was no more fighting between the two. Later that night, Dirk scrolled online, lying in bed. He should have gone to sleep hours ago but he was reading all about the Vintage gaming backlash. There were thousands of comments from people posting their stories. Dirk didn’t even know where to start. Stories ranged from people being aware to others denouncing the whole thing as a hoax. The changes had truly run the gambit of altering people's memory or simply adding to them. Dirk wondered where his brothers fell in that regard.

A crash came from downstairs. Dirk crept out of bed, and down the steps. Hushed voices came from the kitchen where the light had been turned on. The young man rolled his eyes, imagining his father must have come down for another afternoon snack. He strolled into the kitchen, eyes going wide at not finding the situation he imagined.

Tommy’s naked figure pounded into Willis, who was laid out on the table, beneath him. The two were fucking in the open. Hard to believe such strong bodies could be so quiet as they rutted, and yet not betray an ounce of the power each executed. “What were you thinking, getting Dirk all hot and bother with that voice of yours.”

“You’re just mad, you couldn’t make him leak.” Willis combatted, pecs jiggling with Tommy’s thrust.

“Leak? Dude, he literally nutted on my face.” Tommy bragged.

Dirk watched astounded from the shadows. They hadn’t outgrown fighting. They were fuck-fighting. Every grievance and displeasure sent by the meeting of their hips.

Tommy’s body convulsed with a soft, “FUCK.” Three loud slaps of skin then stop. He gently grabbed Willis' neck in a mock choke. “Say you’re not going to make Dirk precum again.”

“Shit,” Willis shrugged, sucking his teeth. “Wish I could, but this body’s got hormones and needs. The only reason I’m not up in his bed now is I’m afraid I’d break him. Luckily, I think you and I were made pretty even.”

Tommy dropped his hand, shaking his head. “Same. Dirk was so good with us before and all I could think about was demolishing his pelvis. Didn't want him to think I was some sex demon.”

“Ha, I think he thought that, when you attempted to suck his soul out his dick.” Willis sat up, then made a circle motion with his hands that Tommy understood. Within seconds, Tommy's hands were behind his back, and Willis had a firm grip on them. “Now, it’s time for your punishment for draining our new little bro without me.”

Dirk watched dumbfounded. They remembered he had been the older one just that morning, but their bodies needed and craved more than their former older brother could provide. Perhaps if he worked at it one day he could keep up with them, but for now he could wait in the shadows.

—

Some stories were much simpler.

Steve Moran was at a loss. He had got the PS2 system re-release and was excited to introduce his nephew to all the games he’d grown up with in his childhood. Steve’s older brother, Geoff, had never been much of a gamer and always preferred to be outside than in a chair. Steve was the common nerd beloved by his family, but still an outcast in some ways. For some reason the cross pollination of gamer & jock never took hold of Geoff, as it did with his other friends, he was too cool for video games. He’d pick up a controller looking lost as a lamb. Always asking for Steve to help out. It was never Geoff’s element; he needed a ball in his hand to excel.

His entire life Steve wished him and his brother could bond over hobbies, but they were diametrically opposed between games and sports. But then like a miracle deferred, Steve’s son, Charlie, was born and had a strong passion for games. There was finally someone for Steve to unload his passion onto and Charlie ate it all up eagerly. 

When the re-release was coming Steve had personally built up the hype, getting Charlie invested. Geoff was going on a personal vacation with his wife, which meant Steve and Charlie had a whole week to lose themselves in game after game.

The PS2 was ready in the living room, when Steve dropped Charlie off. There was a bit of small talk between brothers, but Steve’s thumb twitched the entire time; his x-button masher was ready. The moment Geoff left, Steve practically flew to the couch. He tossed a controller to his nephew and told him to start the game. But then he remembered he had popcorn and soda ready to go waiting in the kitchen. He hopped up, for a second going to his counter. The familiar ‘Whoosh’ of the old system startup and it struck the nostalgia in his mind. He happily snatched up the bowl of popcorn and soda, dancing back to his TV and nephew. 

His body went rigid upon seeing Geoff in his living room. Awkward as hell, Geoff knew Steve was a nerd but never seen his brother at unrestricted display. If that wasn’t weird enough, Geoff had somehow walked back in and was standing in his underwear. His older brother’s furry chest and stomach were out, but what captured Steve’s attention wasn’t even Geoff packing heat with the bulge in his underwear. Rather the game controller in Geoff’s trained arms was the true center piece. In all his years on earth, Steve had never seen his brother pick up a controller. And yet there he was holding it expertly in all his jock-dadness.

“You ready Uncle Steve?” Geoff asked

Steve blinked, upon hearing that as he slowly began to register the man in his apartment was not his older brother, just looked very close to him. Then came the thought of Charlie’s whereabouts, his nephew was nowhere to be seen. Eyes going to the ground, Steve spotted ripped clothes Charlie had on moments ago at the man’s feet. His eyes went back up, mouth agape, realizing his nephew had turned into an almost exact replica of Geoff. 20+ years pushed on him and that’s what Charlie grew into. He even had his dad's beard, the same angles for his face and everything!

Steve finally got to see what it’d be like if his older brother had been into games.

—

Stories witnessed by chance had a place in the news cycle too.

Preston was not into gaming in the slightest. He didn’t like the noise or the sounds. Digital water gave him nausea for some odd reasons. Timed missions made him anxious. Pure Overstimulation. He preferred the company of a good book. Never once would he be found outside or behind a screen. His next-door neighbor, Marques, however, had no qualms gaming or having late nights yelling with his window open. 

Based on the position of their windows, Preston could peer right into Marques’ room. He’d see his neighbor, making countless expressions, jumping around, or yelling at the screen. Needless to say, Marques was very into gaming. They had co-existed in this way for years. No arguments or fighting. Preston was used to turn Marques into background noise. Not that it would matter to Preston much longer because in a few weeks he was out of here. 

This neighborhood. The town. Always spinning the same cycles, he read a book like that once. The point being, his graduation had come and gone, and college was coming to take him away, while Marques and all the rest had another two years to suffer.

Was it not obvious the bookish nerd, never would have known what the vintage release was? Or why Marques rushed into his room that day. Eyes up from The Last Petal Dropped novel, he watched the black teen drop his stuff and swivel in his chair. Marques happened to look over at Preston, not one of his usual moves, and gave a head nod. Preston gave a playful two finger salute then was back in his book. 

He only looked up briefly, when Marques stopped speaking. Normal curiosity. He expected to find his neighbor blowing his nose. But how wrong he was. Marques body erupted outward as if it were a dam keeping back a torrential force. However, water was not what came surging out, rather an insane muscular physique made Marques’ clothes explode and burst right off his body. The young man stood up at once, gaming chair flying back to his bed. 

Preston’s mouth dropped upon seeing the hard cock pointed directly at him.

A few months later, Preston found himself at college…rooming with Marques. Unbelievable how so much could change yet nothing at all. He waited all those years to escape town, thinking of the people he’d leave behind, but they were here too. Well, he did at the very least have a boyfriend right in his dorm. 

The news came so often that eventually, Preston got tired of answering. Their dorm door was closed until the vultures flocked somewhere else. It didn't matter to the boys though Preston could relax in his chair, while Marques played away. These days when Preston peered up from his book no muscles burst forth. They were already there, waiting to greet him.

“You’re getting that look again,” Marques said.

“What look?” Preston asked innocently.

A quick shake of his head, Marques would casually ask. “You trying to fuck?” lowering his voice for the roleplay.

Preston would set down his book. They could agree there was one thing that was a lot more fun than video games or a book.

—

Parents were blowing up stations to get their stories heard. The legal settlements were going to be insane if they ever figured out what grounds to sue on. Emotional distress was a good starter.

Mr. Delgado was never the type of man who thought about suing anyone. He was a single father and didn't bother anyone. Went to work and picked his son up from school. Same day in day out. Being on the younger side as a father, on account of his wandering dick as a teen, his way to distress was with a nice video game session. Now in his late 20’s it was more than a hobby; it was a fixed part of his schedule. His son Mauricio had even gotten enthralled in them.

When the Vintage re-release was announced, Mr. Delgado knew he was going to download it to introduce Mauricio to all the games he played as a kid. Back when he was just Luiz Delgado, coming home from school, not a care in the world. Sitting on his bed to play the latest game. He’d hoped now he could bond with his boy over how terrible or great the games were in hindsight. There were bound to be bad graphics, clunky dialogue, and yet still narratively heart wrenching dialogue.

Mr. Delgado was the one bouncing on the edge of his seat as the download happened. His son was in his own chair beside him, controller and headset ready to go.  Mr. Delgado didn’t even know if his son needed the headset for the old games, but he wanted everything to be perfect. He went to the bathroom for a second and heard scuffling back in his room. After washing his hands once he was done, strolled back in.

“Hey everything—

“It’s all good, you gonna grab your controller, man?” a man, Mr. Delgado’s age, answered back, gaming already. A man in place of where Mr. Delgado’s son should have been. Oddly enough the young man was in exactly the same outfit, Mr. Delgado had picked out his son that morning. The blue shirt, the hat, even the socks and sneakers. The only difference was the size of the body within them. Even the young man’s face was close to Mauricio’s sans baby fat, and the black undertones of facial hair above his lips. There was one more noticeable thing to that glaring difference: Hairy manspread legs leading to a visible cock print. The underwear was familiar. The cock inside of them? An intruder.

The stranger kept gaming, eyes briefly shifting to Mr. Delgado in the doorway. “Look, you can join or you can blow me if you want, just don’t make me lose this level.”

“What?” Mr. Delgado shook his head.

“Dude, roommates do these things for each other. Don’t make it a whole thing. Remember when I blew you during your Baldur’s Gate 3 Session? Your bros on discord didn’t know what the fuck was going on under that desk.” The young man smirked proudly. 

“What are you talking about, where’s Mauricio?” Mr. Delgado asked.

The guy made a face and paused his game. Pulling down the headset, “Are you feeling okay? I’m Mauricio.”

“Not you, I mean my son.” He stated. “Mauricio Delgado.”

“Son?” The guy’s eyebrows went up. “I’m Mauricio Delgado, and I can assure you big bro I’m not your son.” Then with a naughty smirk, he nodded to Luiz’s pants tenting. “Looks like you do remember me.”

“I…I,” Luiz Delgado said nothing else, staring at his cock, aroused for one thing only.

“Well, whenever you figure out, whatever roleplay you’re doing this cock will be here waiting to get drained.” Mauricio Delgado, returned back to his original gaming position. 

—

There were stories that would never be told.

Alonso was shit at every job he tried. Factory worker, fast food, even the library. Labor was his enemy since birth; his only real skill was gaming and shirking responsibility. His only real job he could manage was part-time at a tattoo shop. It made sense. He had indulged in getting a few tatts himself and completing them on others gave him the same rush as clearing a level. But he was shocked when his girl dropped her son, Paulie, off for the day. Alonso didn’t want to babysit; he wanted to spend the day gaming. However Clariece was a master word spinner, she had to be to date a man like Alonso. And he begrudgingly accepted as Paulie launched into his house, excited, already claiming the couch where his controller was.

“Thank you.” Clairece put on a sweet voice, before leaning into kiss. He walked her to the stairs then watched her go down the unit’s floor, before returning to his apartment. The moment he stepped back in, there was something off about his place. It looked like there were more things in there than before. Odd.

“Who was that?” A man in his underwear asked Alonso.

“Just your sister checking on you babe.” Alonso closed the door.

He sighed, “I wish she’d stop doing that.”

“Why, it shows she cares, Paul.” Alonso leaned back, drinking in his boyfriend's form. Paul was in nothing but his briefs and socks. Alonso’s cock responded happily. What turned him on the most about Paul, was it the beard? Their mutual love of tattoos? Or his boy’s ripped body. Regardless of the way Paul sat, his cock and ass were open for business.

And though Alonso would never know it, he had once again shirked another job.

—

Some stories the news would talk about endlessly. 

Clyde just happened to be one of those unlucky ones. He was doing a gaming stream with friends, only 5 or so people were watching. They were talking about nothing, but then the emulation of the PS2 came up. That brought a spark to the conversation, putting down the shitty graphics and terrible game quality. 

The teens joked on, but it was a random chatter who told them to give it a try.

“Yeah sure, why not,” Clyde said with one intention to drag the system through the mud. His friends were still laughing as he purchased it and a random dumb looking gaming, Vexx or some shit. 

He started the emulation.

All of his friends watched as his body began to grow. It started with a slight height climb, anything a reasonable person could dismiss. But then his clothes began to stretch and tear, as pecs pushed the seams to their further limits. His shoulder broadened to the width of a man several times his age with arms that could pop actual biceps on a moment's notice. Faint abs made their presence known as his shirt was done away with. It didn’t fall or float to the ground. It was just gone. Clyde’s bare torso was out. And his pants? No one saw those go either; they just saw a growing lump in his underwear poking forward.

Then his face was just…different, youthful one second, sprouting facial hair the next. The round smoothness chiseled down. Favorite hat was still on his head, there was no mistake, all of it was happening in real time. As his face finally came together, his large cock exploded as he came hard. Multiple shots that soaked his brief until they were see-though. Eventually his cock would fall limp but still have its grandiosity on display.

He became the first example to many of seeing what the Vintage release had done for the population. Saved online in high definition for people to see until they got tired of it.

—

As for people like Roy Madden, their stories were less public, but no less shocking. 

He had gone to the bathroom, while his younger cousin, Logan, watched the download. They were having an impromptu sleepover to celebrate the release. Roy was being nosey going through his aunt and uncle’s medicine cabinet, which is why he got back to the room late.

If Roy had bothered to even once turn on the news, he’d have seen the story, and therefore not have been shocked when he found an all-American jock had replaced Logan. Like any self-respecting gay community college freshman, all he saw first was the stacked body. Cannonball shoulders, supporting bulked arms and also juicy pecs. Then there was Roy’s controller, which now sat on the stranger’s massive cock. The face, no matter how square or defined by its new jockish nature, made it obvious who was at the helm. Logan sat, taking up the entire width of the couch, with legs twice as long and wide.

He didn’t say anything, but the look and position were obvious. He wanted Roy to come grab the controller and play with a new joystick. 

—

This just in! A clip of someone minutes after their transformation:

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.