#age progress

As the magical exchange reached its zenith, a palpable tension filled the chamber. Sam, now acutely aware of the unsettling imbalance, hesitated. "Sir John, something feels off. I can't go on like this."

Sir John, masking his delight with a feigned urgency, insisted, "We're on the brink of a breakthrough, Sam. We need to complete the final step to solidify the transformation."

With a nod, Sam reluctantly continued the enchantment. The magical energies swirled around them, creating an atmosphere charged with both anticipation and deceit. As the intensity grew, so did the transformative magic coursing through their tails.

The climax approached, a crescendo of enchantment and illusion. Sir John's once-tiny, limp tail now stood erect, brimming with stolen vitality. Sam's majestic appendage, though diminished, still retained a glimmer of its former grandeur.

In a sudden twist, the magical currents intensified, driving both men to the edge. Their tails quivered, charged with the magical essence ready to be unleashed. Yet, hidden beneath the facade of collaborative training, a sinister agenda unfolded.

As the moment of climax neared, Sir John seized the opportunity. With a swift and unexpected motion, he redirected the magical flow, causing both tails to release their enchanted essence. The magical juices shot forth, intertwining in mid-air like a spectral dance.

Sam, caught off guard, tried to resist. "What's happening? Sir John, this isn't part of the training!" he exclaimed, a hint of panic in his voice.

But Sir John, driven by envy and the thirst for rejuvenation, was resolute. He lunged forward, his mouth capturing the stream of Sam's magical essence. A twisted grin played on Sir John's lips as he drank deeply, absorbing every last drop of the stolen vitality.

Sam, overcome with shock and resistance, struggled against the force of the magical exchange. His attempts to pull away were met with a relentless suction from Sir John, who reveled in the stolen magic coursing through his weakened form.

The climax of deceit unfolded as Sam's once-potent tail now stood limp and drained. Sir John, fueled by the stolen essence, felt a surge of rejuvenation coursing through his aged body.

As the last traces of magical juice vanished, a sinister satisfaction gleamed in Sir John's eyes. Sam, weakened and disoriented, collapsed to the floor, his betrayed body unable to comprehend the treachery that had unfolded.

The chamber, now quiet save for the echoes of the magical exchange, held the secrets of their transformative encounter.

Chapter Four: The Puppet Master's Mockery

As the magical exchange reached its climax, Sam lay sprawled on the chamber floor, his once-grand tail now a feeble shadow of its former glory. Sir John, rejuvenated and reveling in his newfound power, circled the fallen personal trainer with a sinister grin.

"Well, well, Sam," Sir John jeered, "seems like the tables have turned, or should I say, the tails have turned?" He motioned toward his now robust tail, brimming with vitality.

Sam, weakened and disoriented, tried to sit up, but a wave of exhaustion held him captive. "What have you done, Sir John? This wasn't part of our training!" he protested, his voice a feeble echo of its former self.

Sir John chuckled, a sinister mirth emanating from his rejuvenated form. "Oh, Sam, you were always too trusting. I merely took what was rightfully mine—the vitality that you squandered on youth and arrogance."

He approached Sam, his once-frail tail now erect and pulsating with energy. "You wanted to train with the best, to absorb the essence of greatness. Well, you got more than you bargained for."

Sam, glaring up at Sir John with a mix of betrayal and confusion, managed to utter, "You won't get away with this, Sir John. The consequences of such dark magic are beyond your comprehension."

Sir John scoffed, circling Sam like a vulture reveling in its triumph. "Consequences, you say? I feel more alive than ever! Look at you, drained and feeble. I've achieved what you never could—a true transformation."

With a taunting glint in his eyes, Sir John seized Sam's limp tail, now reduced to a pathetic micro appendage. "What's this, Sam? Your once-majestic tail has become nothing more than a pitiful excuse for magic. Perhaps I should start calling you Micro-Tail Sam."

Sam winced as Sir John played with his diminished tail, a cruel mockery of the once-proud appendage. "You were the golden boy, Sam, but now it seems your magic has lost its shine. I wonder if anyone will even notice your feeble attempts at enchantment."

As Sam lay humiliated and drained, Sir John continued his relentless mockery. "You wanted to absorb greatness, to be on par with the best. Well, congratulations, Sam—you've become a reflection of your own inadequacy."

Sam, feeling the weight of humiliation, couldn't muster a response. The stolen essence had left him not only physically weakened but emotionally shattered.

Sir John, reveling in his triumph, took a step back, surveying his once-frail body now brimming with newfound vitality. "You see, Sam, greatness is not merely about muscles and magic; it's about seizing opportunities, even if it means taking them from others."

As the echoes of their confrontation lingered, the chamber's magical aura began to settle. Sir John, now standing tall and mocking, had successfully orchestrated a tale of envy and deceit. Sam, once the epitome of vitality, lay defeated and humiliated.

The details of their transformed bodies spoke volumes. Sir John's once-feeble frame now boasted a robust physique, his chestnut hair seemingly infused with a renewed vibrancy. His face, once etched with the wrinkles of time, now appeared more refined, as if the stolen essence had erased the markers of age.

In contrast, Sam's once-youthful features were marred by the drain, his hazel eyes dimmed by the betrayal. The grand tail that had defined his magical prowess now hung limp, a mere vestige of its former glory.

Sir John continued to taunt Sam, savoring every moment of the fallen trainer's humiliation. "You were the beacon of vitality, Sam, but now I hold the torch. A fitting lesson in the art of magic, wouldn't you say?"

a few designs of young Erik in India and Persia just for fun 

yeah, I REALLY like headcanon about long hair and earings and I gave my son these features

(btw this is the third part of the age of progress and u can find first here https://parshukovich.tumblr.com/post/188957891608/for-mattel-youre-killing-me-i-did-a-redesign-of)

In the quaint town of Eldoria, where magic and reality intertwined, Sir John and Sam's paths converged in the echoing halls of the mystical training academy. Sir John, a weathered sage with a limp, hairy tail, bore the weight of years etched onto his diminutive frame. In contrast, Sam, the epitome of youthful vitality, stood tall with a clean-shaven, grand tail that mirrored the strength of his well-sculpted physique.

Sir John's aging visage held a map of stories and lessons learned. Liver spots adorned his face, a testament to the passage of countless seasons. His stooped shoulders carried the burden of wisdom, while his thin, cracked lips whispered tales of experiences both bitter and sweet. The tiny, withered balls between his legs told a story of magical reservoirs drained by the sands of time.

On the other side of the spectrum stood Sam, the embodiment of vigorous youth. His chestnut hair framed a face sculpted by divine symmetry, and his hazel eyes sparkled with an energy that seemed to defy the laws of mortality. Broad shoulders, sculpted chest, and arms that spoke of countless hours spent in the pursuit of physical excellence showcased the results of relentless training. His full, plump balls, a source of potent Samen, hinted at a magical vitality that pulsated through his very core.

The academy's training sessions were a stage where Sam's prowess flourished, leaving Sir John in the shadows of envy. Despite years under Sam's tutelage, Sir John's frail form remained untouched by the transformative magic that coursed through the academy's hallowed halls.

One fateful evening, as the moon cast its silvery glow upon Eldoria, Sir John, consumed by envy, hatched a plan to bridge the chasm that separated him from Sam's vibrant existence. This plot would weave a tale of magical exchange, jealousy, and unforeseen consequences.

As the clock ticked towards midnight, Sir John approached Sam in the dimly lit training chamber. The air crackled with a mix of anticipation and a whisper of trepidation.

"Sam," Sir John called out, his voice laden with a rare intensity. "I need your guidance, a special training that only you can provide."

Sam, always eager to help, turned toward Sir John with a warm smile. "Of course, Sir John. What do you need?"

Little did Sam know that this request would set in motion a series of events that would alter the very fabric of their magical existence.

Chapter Two: The Enchanted Exchange

Sam, unsuspecting and benevolent, nodded in agreement. "Follow my lead, Sir John. We'll embark on a unique training journey tonight."

As they settled into the ancient runes inscribed on the training chamber floor, Sam began guiding Sir John through a series of magical exercises. The air hummed with a mystical energy, and the two men immersed themselves in the dance of enchantment.

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Unknown to Sam, Sir John had surreptitiously woven a spell into the training routine. As they delved deeper into the mystical exercises, Sir John subtly redirected the magical currents, setting in motion the clandestine exchange he sought.

The first change unfolded in Sam's majestic tail. A subtle shiver coursed through its length as it began to lose its grandeur. Sam, immersed in the magical flow, felt a disconcerting twinge deep within. His brow furrowed as he continued the exercises, unknowingly surrendering a piece of his magical vitality.

Meanwhile, Sir John's diminutive, limp tail stirred with newfound energy. It responded to the clandestine spell, growing more robust and lively. The hairy strands seemed to stand on end, absorbing the magical essence siphoned from Sam's once-grand appendage.

Emotions played across Sam's face—a mix of confusion and slight discomfort. "Sir John, is everything alright?" he inquired, sensing a subtle shift in the magical currents.

Sir John, feigning concern, replied, "Just a minor adjustment, Sam. Keep going."

The exchange continued, the magical energies intertwining in a delicate dance. Sam's tail, once a symbol of his strength, slowly dwindled in size. He began to feel an overwhelming drain, a sense of depletion that echoed through every fiber of his being.

As Sam's tail lost its grandeur, Sir John's frail body absorbed the stolen vitality. The small, limp tail now pulsed with newfound strength, a stark contrast to its former state. Sir John, concealed behind a mask of feigned effort, reveled in the unfolding transformation.

However, the exchange was not without consequences. The drain on Sam's magical vitality reached a tipping point. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and the once-confident personal trainer stumbled. The magical tether between their tails fluctuated, causing Sam to gasp in sudden realization.

"Something's not right," Sam muttered, his voice betraying a mix of confusion and concern.

Sir John, seizing the opportunity, pressed on with the charade. "Just a momentary imbalance, Sam. Keep going, we're almost there."