Wavellâs mansion sat in a state of complete serenity. Just as it always did amongst the vastness of the pocket dimension in which it resided. Never did it wear or creak with age. Never did it seem to lose its glow. The beautiful woodwork that lined the floors and walls never ceased to shine. The carpets and curtains never lost their radiant colour. Everything was pristine, maintained to perfection by Wavellâs magic even when he wasnât here. Just like now.
As of now, Wavell was roaming the outside world as he checked in on some of his past subjects. Watching how theyâd adjusted to their new bodies and lives after heâd taken the liberty of changing them. All the while he was on the lookout for new people to bless with his reality bending power. It was a hobby that never seemed to get old. And oftentimes he would be joined by his boyfriend Dane so the two of them could get into all kinds of transformative mischief together. Taking turns experimenting on the bodies of men with their powers, especially now that Daneâs magic had truly blossomed into its own.
But today was not one of those days. Dane had decided to kick back in the mansion while Wavell was out getting into his own mischief. Instead Dane simply wanted to enjoy the silent tranquility that the pocket dimension offered him as he relaxed into a book from Wavellâs vast library.
Having just finished his previous book, Dane found himself scouring the shelves for something new to catch his eye. Each and every book looked almost untouched as if theyâd just been freshly printed. He couldnât help but admire how crisp they all were as pulled out novel after novel, tome after tome. Eventually though, one book captured his interest. It was titled âThe Father Of Facesâ. It wasnât a large book by any means, about the length of a novella if he had to guess, which made it appear quite unassuming next to some of the others. Yet Dane found himself drawn to it and before long he found himself sprawled across one of the many couches in the library as he flipped it open to the first page.
Heâd read the blurb shortly beforehand. It described the tale of a man who went out in search of an otherworldly entity that was responsible for the creation of all human faces and identities. That alone was gripping enough to have Dane jumping into the first chapter following the journey of Dr Albert Fenwick.
Albert was a lithe man in his sixties who had long been obsessed with discovering the origins behind the many myths and legends that plagued the mouths of many. Going out of his way to travel all across the world in his crusade to research any and all myths to see if there was ever any truth to them. He never really believed there was. If anything he was more interested in discovering how these legends had come to be. Most of the time stemming from natural phenomena being observed by people from the past who had no way to describe what theyâd witnessed.
But The Father Of Faces was different. Albert had read up on how some tribes and even a few religions had worshipped The Father Of Faces as some kind of deity but the details were always blurry. Mentions of him were always sparse with only the barest of information as to its origin. Though from what Albert was able to piece together, it seemed those who worshipped the deity believed him to be responsible for the creation of all human faces. Many seem to believe that a soul would be given a face by this deity before birth which they would then grow into as they age. It was a strange concept that modern science would harshly disagree with. And yet as Albert continued to research this seemingly divine being, he would continue to find more and more mentions of The Father in tiny snippets across recorded history.
Over time whatâd started as just another research project had grown into an obsession for Dr Fenwick. He couldnât understand how this one myth had managed to reach so many different cultures across thousands of years. In all different corners of the globe. Of course not every mention of The Father Of Faces was identical. The descriptions differed slightly between time periods and the people telling it but overall it was clear that most of Albertâs findings on the matter seemed to be describing the same entity. He could hardly begin to understand how or why but it excited him nonetheless.
The obsession with this myth followed Albert into his early seventies. Even as he retired from all his other research, The Father was the only one he couldnât leave behind. Heâd continue to spend his golden years looking for additional pieces of information he could find on the mysterious entity until eventually he discovered something that broke his entire reality. When mixing and rearranging some of the words across different lines of prayer relating to The Father, a secret code unveiled itself.
For you who have deciphered me, a new face you will soon see. Though one cannot know my whole truth, so a new identity you too must receive. But do not worry as this life will fulfill you completely.
At first Albert wasnât sure if it made sense or not. He thought he mightâve just been going crazy after all these years. Making up codes where they didnât actually exist like a mad man. What didn't realise at first was how quiet the world around him had gotten. Usually heâd hear the frequent passing of cars outside his window alongside the chirping of birds in his garden as they constantly gathered around the feeders he set outside. But right now there was complete silence. It was only after it went on for a good long ten minutes did Albert finally begin to realise something strange was going on.
He stepped out his study to glance outside and what he saw caused his breath to hitch like never before. When he looked out the window, instead of seeing a busy road full of cars and decorated by pedestrians on either side, he saw nothing but a white void with black sparkles as far as the eye could see. It was like looking into the inverse of outer space. Simultaneously terrifying and beautiful in a way that Albertâs mortal mind struggled to comprehend.
After an appropriate amount of panicking had taken place, Albert eventually built up the courage to open his front door. Inching it open as slowly as possible before cautiously stepping out onto the raised decking. The steps in front of him shouldâve led down to a concrete path but instead they lead to nothing. Just blank whiteness. Logic would suggest there was still solid ground considering his house was still standing and not falling endlessly. Though he wasnât sure if logic applied right now. Either way Albert eventually took a deep breath before walking slowly down the steps and reaching one foot off the final step. He held onto a nearby wooden beam for support until his foot touched some kind of invisible flooring where the concrete path shouldâve been. There was ground after all.
Very slowly Albert stepped into the void. He didnât dare take more than two steps away from his house but as he looked out into the vast emptiness, he couldnât help feel a whole flood of emotions he couldnât even begin to process. He started to wonder if he was dead somehow. That maybe heâd entered some kind of purgatory before moving onto whatever came next. Or if somehow that was all some incredibly realistic lucid dream he was having. Both of which seemed equally plausible right now.
As he turned around to step back inside his house for the sake of his sanity, he was terrified to see that his house was gone. Vanished like everything else. In its place stood an enormous creature that caused Albertâs heart to stop for a long moment. It had to have stood at around two hundred feet tall as it towarded far FAR above Albertâs puny height. Its body resembled that of a man except it had four powerful legs and six muscular arms that all seemed perfectly symmetrical besides the variation in skin colour amongst the limbs. Most of its body was covered by an enormous black cloak that seemed to billow gently despite the lack of wind. And as Albertâs eyes tilted further upwards he finally saw the creature's head. Or rather its heads. Plural. The giantâs neck branched off into four different heads, each one looking in a different direction. They were all masculine but beyond that each face was very different. They varied from the size and shape of their features to the tone of their skin. The face looking down at Albert had quite distinctly South Asian features. The one looking off to the right was unmistakably African. The face looking to the left was Caucasian by the looks of it. And the one looking behind, though Albert couldnât see it at first, was that of an East Asian man. Each one had varying degrees of head and facial hair as well as different hair colours to really set them apart.
Albert froze. Unable to move or speak out of sheer terror. And yet as he looked up at the towering creature, he began to remember the countless drawings and carvings heâd seen throughout his research on The Father Of Faces. How almost all of them had depicted a being with an array of limbs and multiple faces. And thatâs when it started to click. This giant⌠thing. It was exactly what heâd been chasing for the last decade of his life. The thing heâd spent endless nights trying to uncover the secrets behind. This was The Father Of Faces. The deity all the tribes and religions spoke of. Somehow the mysterious legend was real! And yet Albertâs mind couldnât bring itself to accept that fact.
âN-n-no. Iâm⌠Iâm dreaming. I⌠I have to be. Or-Or Iâm dead⌠or dying?⌠or-â Albertâs petrified voice was cut off when the entity before him raised one of its massive hands, causing the tiny old man to begin floating upwards like a helpless balloon. Shouting and screaming with pure panic, certain his heart was going to give out at any second, as he ascended past the giantâs legs and torso. âP-please! D-donât kill m-m-me!â He shrieked and begged in terror as he slowly floated onto the outstretched palm of the giant, right in front of one of the four faces.
âI am not here to grant death upon you.â The South Asian face told him, its voice rumbling throughout the void with an ethereal echo. Albert then watched in pure disbelief as the deityâs neck began to turn until the African face was the one staring at him. âI am here to grant you a new life as a reward for solving my puzzle.â The African face continued, its eyes remaining firmly on Albertâs miniscule form before its neck began to twist once again. âBut with my gift also comes a price.â The East Asian face added until finally its neck twisted one last time. âTherefore you will become a new man in both body and mind.â The Caucasian face concluded.
âWhat?⌠I d-donât understand?âŚâ Albert trembled as he struggled up onto his feet, nervous that the enormous hand he was standing on could crush him at any moment if it so decided.
âYou do not need to understand.â All four faces said in sync. âYou must only accept your gift.â
Seconds later, there was a shimmering glow before Albert. He closed his eyes as the glow grew brighter and brighter until finally it faded. When Albert opened his eyes again, he was greeted by what appeared to be a mask floating before him. It was that of a hyper realistic human face. It was male with some dark facial hair and youthful but strong features. It was almost haunting to look at. Almost like it was taken directly from a real person. And in a sense, it was. It was a future face that wouldâve gone to another new soul soon to be sent down to earth. But instead that face was being offered to Albert.
âPlease. I-I just want t-to go home. I wonât te-MMMMMPPHHHHHF!?â Albertâs pleas were swiftly cut off when the eerie mask flew towards him faster than he could react. It slammed onto his face, muffling his panicked screams. He fell backwards onto his ass in terror as he grabbed at it, trying to pull the mask from his face, but it was too late as it already began to fuse with Albertâs skin.
As his new face began moulding to his head, the rest of Albertâs body began to twitch and morph as The Father Of Facesâ divine power took hold. It started with his skin as the many wrinkles thatâd formed in Albertâs later years of life began to disappear. It regained a tight and youthful glow, the likes of which he hasnât seen or felt in decades. Along with it his bones and joints grew stronger again too as both the inner and outer working of his body were slowly revitalised. Albertâs age rewound back through his seventies, sixties, fifties and forties until finally settled comfortably back into his early thirties once more.
Albert could tell something was off about his body but he was too worried about his face to care. The mask had fused and moulded to his head so thoroughly now that it didnât even feel like a mask anymore. It was becoming his actual face by replacing his original features. As it did Albertâs hair began to darken to match his new facial hair. Itâd already gone from silver back to the sandy brown of his youth with the age regression but now it was darkening even further until it reached an almost jet black hue. All the while the shape of his skull seemed to reconfigure around his new face in a way that shouldâve felt agonising and yet it was completely painless beyond some slight discomfort.
His previously dulled vision began to clear up just in time to watch as his body began to morph even further. Now that heâd returned to his youth, many of Albertâs distinctive features began to fade. The tattoo on hip, the birthmark on the thigh, the surgery scar on his chest. All of it vanished, replaced only by a new birthmark on his lower back. All the while he could feel his bodily proportions shifting as some parts grew longer while others grew shorter, slowly altering each and every detail that made Albert who he was. Before long he was unrecognisable.
But the changes didnât stop there.
Albert clenched his fists hard as every vein in his body seemed to pulse with an unnatural vigour. He couldnât help but grit his teeth and as every muscle tense as a boiling hot power began to bubble up from deep within his core. A blazing energy that only grew and grew as it spread through every fibre of his being until finally it exploded.
Without warning Albertâs body surged with newfound muscle mass. It all happened at the same time and at such a rate that Albert could hardly comprehend it. His arms and legs exploded with size heâd only ever dreamt of. His chest and ass bloated into thick meaty proportions that he never couldâve imagined for himself. His back and shoulders widened to compensate for his rapidly increasing size. He couldnât help but groan as his neck bulged thicker by the second while his growing lats forced his already massive arms further outwards. Even his hands and feet seemed to grow in proportion with the rest of his body.
In mere moments Albertâs slim gangly body had ballooned into a behemoth of thick muscle. Gracing him with the kind of form that would take years upon years for any normal man to obtain. Giant bulbous pecs with nipples that were practically begging to be nursed on. Enormous biceps that any man would be eager to worship. A thick gravity defying ass that was capable of derailing any chain of thought with a single glance. Not to mention those heavy thunderous thighs and powerful abs. All of that paired with his new meathead-ish face had turned Albert into a complete hunk of a man who spent practically half his life in the gym and the other half getting his dick wet. And speaking of whichâŚ
Albert couldnât help but curl his toes and buck his hips slightly when even his cock and balls began to change. They were slightly late to the transformation but that didnât make it any less shocking when they began to engorge at a rapid rate. Albert previously had a penis that was smaller than most and wasnât much to gloat about. He was secure enough in himself to not let it bother him but there was always a small part of him that wondered what life was like for all the hung men out there with horse cocks he could hardly imagine. Well now he didnât have to because his dick and balls swelled bigger and fatter with every pulse of energy sent through his groin. Gradually turning his meek little dick into a girthy anaconda accompanied by a hefty pair of nuts full of virile seed.
Finally the transformation subsided and Albert was left in a sweaty panting mess, sprawled out across the deityâs massive palm. His clothes were in tatters, unable to contain his new bulk, while his cock made a rather crude dick print across the groin of his pants. Or what remained of his pants anyway.
âWhat⌠happened?â Albert mumbled, sitting up slightly as he noticed the subtle change in how his voice emerged from his throat. It sounded younger but also gravelly at the same time. At the same time his hands instinctively moved towards his chest, cupping his huge new muscle tits in baffled wonder. âM-my body!? Iâm⌠Iâm huge!!â He shouted as a small but cautious smile appeared on his face.
âThis is your new identity.â The deity spoke again through the South Asian head. âYour new name is Bruno Fierro and you will lead a life far different from the one you have lived up to now.â
âBruno?â Albert repeated. The name sounded both wrong and yet so right at the same time. It rolled off his tongue so naturally as if it belonged there.
âNow. Prepare yourself mortal.â The Caucasian face continued before turning to the East Asian visage. âFor your physical form was the easy part.â The deityâs neck twisted one final time so that the African head could have the last word. âNow your mind will be reshaped to match.â
Upon hearing those words, Albert was immediately snapped out of his bewildered haze. He began to beg the deity to reconsider. Promising he wouldnât ever speak a word of this to anyone. Saying anything he could think of that might convince The Father Of Faces not to alter his mind and memories. But it was all for nought as the deity did not care whether his existence was known of. If he did then he wouldnât have allowed for so many tribes and religions to create myths around him. However for a mortal bare witness to not only a godâs form but to its divine power as well was seen as sacrilege. Therefore any such mortals must have their minds thoughtfully cleansed. And the only way to do that was to remould it into something new entirely.
Albertâs desperate pleas were soon cut off when a wave of divine energy wrapped itself around his head. It seemed inside his skull where it found both his brain and soul. The energy coiled around his very essence and began to excavate everything that made Albert who he was. Shattering his mind while erasing memory after memory, not stopping until Albertâs soul had become a clean slate with an empty brain.
For a long moment the man that was once Albert laid silent devoid of any life. Not quite dead but not truly alive either. That is until a second flurry of energy whirled its way around his head. This wave brought with it a whole new lifeâs worth of memories and experiences. It began to piece his mind back together in a new form that fit alongside these new memories. Refilling his brain with an entirely new sense of identity while painting his soul to match. Implanting new wants and desires. New goals and ideals. Then refining all these traits until they slotted together in perfect unison to create an entirely new man.
Bruno was every bit the meathead he looked. His memories dictated that heâd lived a life that couldnât be any further removed from the man he once was. Heâd grown up in a household full of brothers, one older and two younger, and alongside a father that encouraged them to grow into real manly men. Instead of becoming an intelligent and distinguished person like in his previous life, Bruno became a hulking oaf. Heâd spent his formative years caring mostly about sports while just barely getting the passing grades he needed to get through school. He didnât care about any of that nerd shit anyway. All he cared about was getting swole as fuck and making sure he biceps were bigger than any of his brothers.
Heâd spent most of his twenties sweating his ass off in the gym in an effort to turn himself into the gorilla of a man he was today. Massive in every way besides brains. But when you were as huge and manly as Bruno was, you didnât need brains to get by. All he had to do was show off his massive body online and other dudes were practically begging to throw their hard earned cash at him. That being the case, it wasnât long before Bruno left the labour job he picked up after school and turned to producing content on sites like Onlyfans where he earned at least triple the revenue from thirsty gays who wanted nothing more than to watch him oil up and bounce his huge tits.
It helped that Bruno was gay too. It made creating his kind of content easier because all the praise he would receive only made him hornier. On top of that he was offered collaborations one after another by other huge hunky content creators who were just as eager to worship his pecs and biceps and he was eager to grope and kiss theirs. And all those horny fuckers on the internet would eat it up every single time.
Bruno was living like fucking king. All he had to do every day was hit the gym like a beast and then go home to jerk his fat cock well flexing for the camera. Watching as the money rolled in month after month accompanied by horny messages from his abundance of fans. And the sex he got was mind blowing. Whether it was him blowing a fat load inside another dude or getting his own muscle ass bred nice and deep, he would always find himself grinning ear to ear with pure unfiltered bliss.
Even his father and brothers were accepting of him being gay. He knew his brothers would be chill about it as despite their shared macho demeanour, they were all good dudes at heart. It was his father he was most unsure about but in the end all the old man wanted was for his sons to be the peak of masculinity and as far as he was concerned, Bruno was exactly that. Whether Bruno was attracted to men or women didnât change that in his eyes. And even though they all thought Brunoâs career path was rather unique, they supported him. Especially after finding out how much he was making from it. His older brother even joked about getting into the adult film industry himself.
That was the new reality and identity The Father Of Faces had constructed for him. It was a life that was just as real as any other. And with that, the deityâs work was done. With a flourish of one its massive wrists, Bruno vanished from its sight. Sent back to the mortal world where he belonged.
Bruno would wake on a new day. He would have no idea that the house he woke up in was nothing like the rustic old house from his former life. The clutter of vintage furniture and scattered papers relating to myths and legends heâd once researched were now replaced by the minimalist looks of a single bachelor. The space was only filled by the bare essentials and decorated with scattered gym equipment and discarded clothes, practically the calling card of a dumb meathead living by himself.
He would never again know the life he once led or the secrets heâd uncovered about The Father Of Faces. Instead he would begin the new lease of life the deity had bestowed upon him without a care in the world. Starting his day by jumping out of bed and checking himself out in the mirror as he would every morning from now on. Showing off to himself like the cocky and somewhat self obsessed stud that he was.
Before long he found himself rubbing his growing bulge as he checked a message one of his gym bros had sent him. âFuuuck dude⌠canât wait to tap that ass again.â He mumbled to himself as his eyes scanned the image of another massive hunk teasing Bruno with a side of view of his fat muscle butt and meaty pecs packed into some tight fitting gym clothes. His memories told him heâd fucked the guy countless times to the point where just the thought of sticking it in that tight hole again was enough to have his huge cock drooling. âI need to get him on camera with me againâŚâ
And so Bruno was happy. Happier than heâd ever been in the old life he couldnât remember. He felt fulfilled getting to do exactly what he loved day in and day out. Workout, show off and fuck. What man could ask for anything more? Sure he didnât have a boyfriend and maybe heâd go hunting for one someday but right now he was more than content with his life just the way it was.
âHeâs real, you know.â Wavellâs voice cut through the silence of the library.
âH-Huh?â Daneâs eyes snapped up from the book to see Wavell leaning against the entrance. He had no idea how long his boyfriend had been standing there. Heâd been so engrossed in the book that heâd barely put it down. So much so that heâd practically read the whole thing in one sitting.
âThe Father Of Faces. Heâs real.â Wavell clarified as he pushed off the archway and began making his way over towards the couch Dane was sprawled across. âAs is Dr Albert Fenwick, or rather Bruno Fierro as heâs known now.â
Dane sat up slightly, lowering the book while keeping his thumb lodged between the pages he was up to. âWait⌠really? You mean gods and deities like that actually exist out there?â On paper such a notion sounded insane but with the life of magic that Dane and Wavell led, it didnât seem like too massive of a stretch.
âIndeed.â Wavell stuffed his hands in his pockets when he found himself standing over Dane. âAnd heâs not a big fan of me, I can tell you that much.â
Dane furrowed his brow. âReally? Why?â
âTake a guess.â Wavell chuckled slightly. âThe Father Of Faces is responsible for designing the faces and, to a lesser extent, the bodies of all men. Thatâs his entire role in existence. And then along I come, swapping and morphing all the faces he created.â He rolled his shoulders a little. âI might as well be spitting in his face.â
âThatâs⌠yeah I guess that would make sense. Huh.â Dane grumbled as he tried to process it all. âWait, so is he angry at me too?â
âIs he gonna come after us or something?â Dane asked hesitantly.
Wavell shook his head. âNo.â He pursed his lips slightly. âWell not anymore.â
Dane narrowed his eyes at his boyfriendâs cryptic wording. His expression alone was enough to convey his need for elaboration.
âHe came for me a while back. Before you and I met. Heâd taken notice of all my experiments and made it very clear he didnât approve of what I was doing. When I told him I didnât care for his ruling, he attempted to stop me. He tried forcing a new face onto me in an attempt to rewrite my identity and take away my power. Evidently it didnât work. As you well know, my magic canât be contained inside just any host. It needs to be one perfectly aligned with my magic. Hence when the face he ambushed me with attached to my head, it only got as far as transforming me into a young black jock for a couple minutes before my power broke through and reverted me to normal. He tried a few more times with different faces but to the same result.â Wavell explained nonchalantly.
Dane was lost for words as he tried to picture the scenario in his head. A god angrily trying to attach new faces to Wavell with no success. There was a tiny part of him that wanted to believe his boyfriend was just pulling his leg but at the same time it also sounded like the exact kind of insane situation Wavell would find himself in.
âEventually I grew tired of it all and decided to show him just how powerful I can be. There was a brief power struggle as my magic clashed against his but in the end I won, as I usually do. After that he agreed to back down.â The suited Wizard shrugged.
âJust like that?â Dane questioned.
âJust like that.â Wavell confirmed. âAnd⌠maybe I threatened to throw the entire universe out of balance by flooding it with dark magic.â
Dane nodded his head slowly, dog earring the page of the book he was on before setting down on the coffee table beside him. âWell. Good thing you didnât do that.â He hummed, slightly unnerved.
âOh come on. Itâs not like Iâd actually do it. Iâd have probably just opened a portal to a new universe. Just like when I came to this one.â Wavell added but he could tell his boyfriend didnât seem fully convinced. So he reached a hand down and used it to cup Daneâs stubble coated chin, encouraging the hunk to look up at the soft smile on Wavellâs face. âIâm glad I didnât though. Otherwise I might never have met you, my love.â
Dane couldnât help but smile back up at the silver fox. âSomehow you always know just what to say, donât you?â
Wavell wagged his eyebrows slightly. âThat I do.â He agreed before bending down to press a sweet kiss against Daneâs lips.
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