Easter Special: Mr. Hexum Chocolate Eggs
Benito and Mike are ordered by Mike's father to go buy chocolate eggs at the last minute. On the store they find a suspicious box of chocolate eggs, that promises wonderful swaps and transformations.
Will the stepbrothers find a way to get along? Or will they try to destroy each other with chocolate tasting magic?
Dedicated to @ollie26684: here I grant your wish of a nerd and a jock swapping traits.
The store was full, as it was to be expected.
Everything had simply to be as terrible as possible, shouldn't it?
"Do you see any chocolate eggs, fatty?" Mike asked Benito, "Shouldn't you have like, a fifth sense for that or something?"
Benito rolled his eyes. Mike was his step brother. But beside living in the same house and being of similar age, they couldn't be more different.
Benito was short, chubby, and undeniably Hispanic. He wasn't bad looking necessarily, but his nerdy tastes didn't do him many favors. Mike, on the other hand, was a tall jock, white, and way too handsome.
"It's a sixth sense, Mike. Sixth. And no, I don't have a sixth sense to detect where the nearest chocolate eggs are," Benito said, more tired than annoyed at his step brother's stupidity.
Benito looked at the amount of people around them with trepidation. At this stage they wouldn't find any damn eggs.
It was his sept father's fault, Mike's dad. He had forgot to buy any earlier. And, instead of going himself, he sent Benito and Mike to purchase them.
Never mind the fact Benito and Mike had never gotten along.
"Whats the use of you, then?" Mike said, cruelly, yet with a smile that could sell sand in a desert.
"I brought the money. And I have a driver's license, unlike certain someone."
Mike's grin dissolved instantly. He didn't have a comeback. Although Mike had gorgeous looks, he had never been very clever. Mike didn't have many talents or skills, and the few he had he was bad at them. Very much unlike Benito, who was a wonderful singer and a brainiac.
Both step brothers began their odyssey, keeping close to each other as they stepped into the crowd. It proved harder than expected. Yet, despite their obvious dislike for the other, they didn't dare to separate. It'd be annoying to lose the other among all these people, either involving waiting for too long… Or worse, actively seeking each other, wasting both time and effort.
However, Benito couldn't help but get hard. Which he hated. Mike was a douche, but he was a hot douche. They only met a year and a half ago, some months before they turned seventeen. Their parents surprising them both with their relationship and quick marriage. Which was the only reason Mike and Benito would have ever interacted. Benito, as much as he lusted after jocks, he often kept himself away from them. Certainly not all of them were bad, but... Better safe than sorry.
Living with Mike, thusly, was at once a nightmare and a dream. A nightmare because he was an absolute asshole, cocky and miserable. But a dream because Benito got to see Mike parade the house half naked, got to feel the strong manly smell of his body, and, since their rooms were next to each other, Benito could hear the grunts of Mike's jerking off sessions… Which Benito often joined, from across the wall.
Mike's bulge was so big, Benito knew Mike was hung. And the idea of riding that cock was enough to cure any distress he could ever feel.
It was only natural, then, that he had a hard on. Because Mike's hot body was pressed against his back. Benito knew it was because of the amount of people around them (there was little space available), yet it didn't diminish the pleasure of feeling his towering step brother's torso leaning on his back. Especially because the heat of all this people had made Mike sweat. And with it, stink. And what a delightful musk Mike had!
"Yo, this is madness," Mike said. "It ain't even Christmas. Why is everyone buying now?"
"No idea. Perhaps Easter is more important than we thought, or everyone is buying at the latest possible time," Benito replied. "Can you see if we're close? You're tall enough for that."
It wasn't a good jab, but Mike's body was nearly if not entirely flawless. So Benito didn't have an equivalent for 'fatty'. Still, he could still use Mike's height for his own advantage.
"Huh? Oh, right. I actually wasn't looking. I thought you had that covered. Uh… Let's see. There, fatty! There! Look!"
Mike pointed to an aisle. It was somewhat close, but heavily obscured by all the people in between. It was almost as bad as a Black Friday. Benito had to raise to his tip toes to see the aisle well, given the crowd. He was barely tall enough to see the sign indicating the chocolate eggs were there.
Benito adjusted his pants, after Mike's hand strongly took hold of his shoulder. The erection needed concealing, and Mike touching him further (as platonic as that contact was) only made things worse. Still, Benito didn't mind the inconvenience nor the embarrassment. Not at that moment.
At last they reached the aisle. It was almost entirely empty, and some people were already fighting for some of the bags, boxes and baskets available.
Mike just stared at the chaos, while Benito lunched for whatever he could get. Despite being 5'4", his portly figure was enough to intimidate some people away from his path. Mike normally would have made a fat joke about that. Perhaps because it was convenient, he had remained quiet.
After taking a box and a bag of Easter eggs, Benito readied himself to leave. But something stopped him. An urge, whose origin he couldn't explain, made him look at the shelf again.
There it was.
It was another Easter egg box. But it was different from all the others offered by the store. It didn't have the rainbow coloring. It wasn't meant for kids. There was no rabbit. No discernible marketable theme from a franchise or popular IP.
The box, instead, felt like it came from a luxury store. Not from a regular supermarket. The box itself was a very soft pink, so light and warm it was almost beige. While the eggs inside alternated between a cerise pink and a classic rose color. The typography was elegant, engraved with golden letters.
"Mr. Hexum Chocolate Eggs," Benito read, to himself mostly, as his voice couldn't have been more than a whisper. "Guaranteed to be life changing…"
The box seemed too fancy. Perhaps too expensive to buy at a day such as this. But Benito didn't return it. The idea simply never formed in his mind. Instead, he added the box to what he had already taken.
I just know I have to take it with me…
Mike looked at the box, his blue eyes curious. Yet he didn't, for once, debate Benito's decision. Keeping quiet any thoughts he may had, whether positive or not.
Once in the car, silence ceased, however. Mike, from the copilot seat looked at Benito with raised eyebrows, and a douchey smirk.
"So, what were those pink chocolates you bought. Got a date or something, fatty? It ain't even February to be buying that sort of thing. Are you sure they're even good?"
"They're Easter eggs, you moron! Just because they're pink it doesn't mean they're for Valentine's day," Benito answered, vexed. His chubby hands tightened on the driving wheel. "I was going to share, but since you're being such an asshole, maybe I shouldn't."
Mike's smirk softened, just a bit.
"Hey, don't be like that. What's a little teasing between brothers?"
"We aren't brothers!" Benito yelled, thankful his skin was dark enough for his blushing not to show.
Mike chuckled. Looking at Benito in a way that was actually difficult to read. A rarity when it came to the jock's simple mind.
"You wound me, fatty!" Mike said with fake affectation. "And here I thought we were getting closer. The best of chums, as my dad would say. Are you really not gonna share with me? I thought I was the mean one between us. You wouldn't want to be mean, would you? You're not me, after all."
"Asshole."
No other response came from Benito's mouth, after that. Mike tried to continue their conversation, but soon gave up since Benito remained unresponsive.
Yet, every once in a while, each caught their step brother looking at them. Benito often looked when he needed to stop the car. While Mike looked on a less predictable manner.
Neither acknowledged when their eyes ended up meeting.
Finally, they reach home. Benito took the Easter eggs he had bought, and put the ones his stepfather had asked for inside the fridge.
But that box… Mr. Hexum Chocolate Eggs… He couldn't bring himself to put it away. Benito wanted to try the eggs now. The reason was as unclear to him as it was unimportant. Wherever the motive of his feeling, he just knew he would follow it.
Mike stood behind him. Benito could see Mike's blurry reflection on the fridge's door. The jock was struggling to read the box of chocolate eggs.
"Who's Mr. Hexum? I've never head of him," He finally asked.
"It doesn't matter who he is. These eggs are not for you," Benito replied, beginning to walk away. To the peace of his own bedroom.
"You were serious on the car? Come on. Don't be like that, bro. I'll be nice. I can be nice. I'm curious about that box. There's something weird about it."
Benito stopped.
He looked back, and up, at his step brother.
"How so? What do you feel it's weird about it?"
Mike, for once, looked sheepish. He smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.
"I dunno. Look, I know I made fun of them earlier. But I really feel like I should open them. Whatever I was thinking on the way home was cut off by the need to eat one of them. I don't even eat chocolate, normally. Dad doesn't like it. I'm sure he wanted us the chocolate eggs more for you than for me."
Benito sighed. To be fair, he felt something similar. Although, he would never admit it what had actually gone through his mind. As he drove, other than worrying about driving, he had thought about how sexy Mike was. So tall, with such a virile body. Only to see his mind lustful ideas interrupted by the desire to open that box of chocolate eggs, to try at least one.
Although chubby, he had never considered himself obsessed with food. At least not to the extent of getting his lustfil thoughts interrupted by food ones. Something strange was going in with these eggs. And Benito wanted to know what it was.
"Okay. We'll try them together. But on my room," Benito declared, walking once again.
"Why on your room?" Mike asked as he followed, confused.
"Because your room stinks," Benito replied, simply.
I'll never admit how much I like your sweaty stench, he thought, stopping a sigh as he reached the stairs.
They went up. Mike was again too close. Benito began to suggest his step brother didn't know about personal space, at this point. At the supermarket it was one thing… But here?
Mike was also humming. Out of tune. So badly Benito didn't even recognize the melody ar first. Benito looked back, but before he could say anything, Mike looked away and grew quiet. The jock loved music, Benito knew, but was terribly untalented at it.
They finally entered Benito's room. Benito locked the door behind them, hoping no one would bother the two of them. He didn't know why he felt the need to do thusly, especially because neither his mother or his stepfather were home at present. Yet he didn't question himself much.
Both men sat on the bed. Benito lay the box between them. The feeling of something ominous made them both stop for a moment. To look at the box as if it could answer all their questions.
Then, Benito opened it.
Inside, there was card. White, with dark pink letters. Mike groaned as he saw it. Benito took pity of him, and decided to read out loud. He cleared his throat, and said:
Dear Benito and Michael:
This box of Easter Eggs is for you, and for you alone. As delicious as they are, they offer something more than simple delight. If you speak what you want to take from the other, or to give to the other, before eating one of them, you'll trade the trait you wished for. Use the eggs wisely, for there are only twelve.
Sweet Regards, Mr. Hexum.
"How the fuck does this Mr. Hexum guy even know our names?" Mike asked, almost as soon as Benito stopped speaking.
Benito had the same inquiry. He left the card where he had found it, and began thinking.
Realistically, the intelligent thing to do would be to ignore the eggs. The weird pulling feeling, plus the card, suggested something was afoot. What? Benito couldn't say.
However, temptation wasn't so easily vanquished yet. Reason argued the eggs wouldn't have any effect. But, if what the card said was true, then…
He could get a body like Mike's. That wonderful, hard on inducing body. That muscular, smelly, white body.
Benito had to admit himself, at the moment, he was jealous of Mike. He seemed to have everything. Sure, he wasn't smart at all. If anything, he struggled at school. And Mike couldn't sing a note in tune to save his life, despite his efforts. But otherwise his life was perfect.
Son of a football coach, who may be benched most games, but still is part of the team. Handsome, tall, with a god-like body. All with the added white privilege. Benito was sure Mike had to be straight and hung. With how cocky Mike was… Plus, he always had a massive bulge. So what other alternative could there be?
The eggs couldn't be real… But the chance of them actually working was simply to appealing to pass it up.
"Hey! Yo! Earth to bro! Are you listening?" Mike said, waving his hand over Benito's face. "I don't trust those eggs, fatty. And you shouldn't either. I don't care I still feel I should eat one. I won't. They make me not trust my gut, and that ain't a good thing, bro."
Benito knew, at that moment, he had three choices. One was to let him go, and swap things without his knowledge. If they didn't work, there wouldn't be any harm. If they did… Well, if he was quick after some changes there would be little Mike could do.
Second choice was to take Mike's advice and ignore the eggs. Maybe throw them out, ignore the chaos that they could so easily cause. After all, if Mike is making sense, the eggs can't be as good as they seemed.
The third option… Was to convince Mike to join.
"What, are you scared?" Benito said, his voice confident. "You always say you're not a sissy, and now you're scared of what some chocolate eggs can do? I thought you were s man, maybe I was mistaken all along!"
"Asshole," Mike said, almost spitting the word out.
He began to stomp his way out. But before he could reach the door, he turned on his heels.
"I ain't a sissy. And I'll prove it. I'll eat one damn egg. But I go first."
Benito shrugged. He wasn't necessarily glad about the idea of Mike going first. Still, he acted as if didn't care. After all, there was a dozen eggs. Because of that, who went second would get the last trade… Assuming they work, that is.
Mike took one of the eggs. It had a cerise pink wrapping. Mike undid it without much regard, uncovering the dark chocolate underneath. Shiny, well tempered chocolate.
"I want to swap… Hair colors, or whatever," Mike said, and then put the egg inside his mouth.
As he began to chew, Mike closed his eyes.
"Fuck, it tastes so fucking good," Mike said, as he continued chewing."What the fuck is this made of? It's… fuck… Why is it so good, bro?"
As he swallowed, the changes began. Benito didn't feel anything. He didn't need to. For he could see the changes taking place on Mike's head. And that was more than enough.
The golden blond hair soon became a light brown. Then regular brown. It kept going darker, until it was undeniably black. Not just the hair on the top of his head. But also his eyebrows, his eyelashes, and the bit of stubble he had missed when shaving.
Benito's eyes wandered down, to Mike's bare forearms. Thank goodness he had removed his jacket once they got home. The blond hair of Mike's arms had also darkened completely.
"Dude! Your hair!" Mike said, before Benito could. Mike was pointing at Benito.
"Look at yours too!"
Both step siblings ran to the standing mirror. Mike leaning down to see himself properly.
Indeed, Benito had also changed. Instead of his familiar black hair, he was completely blond. It wasn't the best look. His skin was naturally brown, and his features weren't commonly seen having natural blond hair. Yet, his hair was fully blond.
Benito lifted his shirt, ignoring how Mike looked at his gut. His pubes and chest hair had also turned a golden color.
"So they were for real? I fucking knew it," Mike said, taking a lock of his own hair. As if still trying to come to terms it was so dark now. It didn't look bad on him, but blond did suit him better.
Or so Benito thought.
"Yeah. They're real. I can't believe it! We have magic eggs. What the fuck?" Benito replied, struggling to keep his composure. "How is it even possible?"
Mike began pacing around the room.
"We should swap our hair colors back, and then get rid of the eggs. I don't want to be you… And you may want to be me, but I ain't letting you become me while screwing me over."
Benito knew he had to be fast. Mike wasn't smart enough as to evade being tricked.
"Come on, let's just do it for fun. Then I'll use the last egg to revert everything. Aren't you curious about being like someone else? Just for a tiny bit?"
Mike looked at Benito. Whatever his mind was debating, Benito didn't know. The jock kept quiet for a moment. Clearly not wanting to accept.
"Fine. I'll do it. Just because I ain't a sissy… And because you asked so nicely, fatty. As long as we reverse everything with the last egg, then I don't mind becoming anyone. Not even if it's you."
After the agreement was settled, Benito made sure to hide the blooming smile his face demanded to show. If he was too excited, Mike may go back on his decision.
And it was too early for that.
He took another egg, getting rid of the wrapping almost too hasty. Taking a deep breath, Benito looked at Mike. The jock was a foot taller than him.
Or was he?
"I want to trade heights," Benito said, getting the egg inside his mouth while Mike's eyes widened.
As soon as he tasted it, Benito knew all other chocolate would be forever ruined for him. It was the perfect combination of cacao and milk. The best texture. The best finish. And the filling? Out of this world. The raspberry was just as sweet as it needed to be, with the acid balancing the tastes. It also smelled divine.
He almost didn't want to swallow. Benito was tempted to just take all the eggs, and eat them without trading anything with Mike. They were just that good.
Fortunately, since they were standing close to each other and to the mirror, both step brothers could see the new change without any special effort. Benito saw how Mike's head was slowly getting lower on the room. While Benito's eye of sight continued rising as seconds went by.
Benito's shirt soon grew tight. Revealing his stomach, for it was too short now. Yet it didn't feel as embarrassing as it would have been otherwise. For the most past, because as he gained inches in height, his weight was less obvious.
Enough so, he didn't really look fat once he finally reached his new height of 6'4". At most he looked soft. Doughy. But chubby felt almost exaggerated.
As for Mike, his height compression also had changed the way his body looked. Instead of the well proportioned stud he had always been, he looked stocky. What Benito imagined Wolverine would look like, if he was less hairy.
Mike had gone from a 6'4" linebacker to a 5'4" bodybuilder. He looked so ridiculously muscular. Mike didn't seem completely displeased. Now that he didn't need to lean down to see himself fully on the mirror, he smiled stupidly and flexed his arms. His sleeves ripped slightly.
"I look so swole, bro. I'm like a total Gym Bro, now," Mike said, checking how his shirt was too tight on the sides, but too long for him. "Sweet, bro."
His pants also were too long. They hadn't fallen, however. His new muscles had kept his jeans mostly in place. Mike's butt was already a big bubbly thing, but now it threatened to rip the pants if Mike wasn't careful with his movements.
"Am I truly that short?" Benito asked, looking down for once at his step brother.
It was almost ridiculous. Now a part of him understood why people struggled to take him seriously. Mike looked like a kid from this high. Well, other than his stocky musculature, that is.
"Oh yeah… And I didn't realize how tall I am… I mean, was," Mike replied, although still more focused on flexing, ignoring the damage he was doing to his shirt.
"It's your turn to eat an egg," Benito reminded him.
He sat down. Benito's pants, although now too short for him, fortunately still covered his crotch well. His erection would surely betray him if he stayed standing.
Mike rolled up his jeans, and then went for another chocolate egg.
"I want to trade eye colors," he said, and then ate the egg.
Benito was disappointed at such minor a change. Then again, it was more than likely that Mike wasn't actually trading features with pleasure. It lay on Benito's hands to actively make any major changes. Still, he was slightly alarmed about the possibility of Mike wasting eggs with such minimal trades. Although it could be beneficial too, depending on how things went.
As for Mike, he had returned to stand next to the mirror. Benito didn't need to stand to see the change, thanks to the reflection. How Mike's eyes went from sky blue to a greenish hazel, growing warmer and darkening until they were the same brown Benito originally had.
After making sure to conceal his hard on, all while Mike was distracted, Benito joined Mike at the mirror again. He had brought another egg too.
Unused to his new height, Benito almost forgot to lean down so he could see his own face. It would be a while before he got used to be this tall.
His brown face looked bizarre. His eyes didn't look bad, with that familiar sky blue Mike used to have. But the blond hair still felt strange to his eyes. It would have been one thing if his eyebrows and eyelashes had remained dark, but since they hadn't, the color looked out of place.
Well, there was an easy way to fix that, wasn't there?
"We'll trade ethnicities," Benito said, and ate the egg before Mike could react.
The change, as all others, was instantaneous once Benito swallowed the chocolate delicacy.
Benito, despite being next to the mirror, had only eyes for Mike. His face was still handsome, but some features had changed slightly. The nose was broader, the lips fuller, the cheekbones softly more prominent. The major change was the skin. Although Hispanic people come in all colors, Benito was the kind of Latino who looked exactly as the average American expected him to look. And now, that was becoming true for Mike.
His fair skin, initially, looked as if it was getting a tan. But there were no tan lines, and it didn't look leathery at all. No, instead, the bronze color hadn't affected the youthful softness of Mike's skin.
No one would ever believe Mike Miguel was a white guy. Miguel, after all, looked so obviously Hispanic he… Miguel? Wasn't his name Mi… Miguel?
Benito Benedict shook his head. Wait, Benedict? No, his name was Benito Benedict. He was Benedict, not Benedict! Oh. He was Benedict now, because he was white...
Benedict knew something weird had happened. Something changing his brain, not just his physique. But soon he got distracted by his own reflection.
He was a white guy. Not as handsome, arguably, as Miguel was and had been. But decent looking for certain. His skin was so light compared to what he was used to…
"Woah, that's a trip! We still look like ourselves, but… So different too," Miguel said, touching his face as if not believing his current appearance. "I wouldn't expect anyone to recognize me now, at all."
Indeed, both of them were hardly recognizable as themselves anymore. It went beyond what Benedict had ever imagined.
"We don't even have the same names," Benedict added. "Which is insane,"
"Guess so, but I look way more like a Miguel than a Michael now, bro."
Miguel took another egg, looking at it instead of simply eating it. Benedict wondered if his step brother couldn't find a thing he wanted to trade with Benedict. And Benedict didn't blame him, so maybe he could propose something instead…
"You've done like, huge changes, bro. So, maybe I should make a big trade too," Miguel said, almost as if he was in a trance, his now brown eyes fixated on the chocolate egg. Benedict didn't have the time to suggest anything, but he was curious about what Miguel would say. "I wish I had your singing voice. So I could finally sing like I always wanted."
Benedict had been so focused on taking stuff from Miguel, he hadn't considered what he could lose. He froze as his step brother finished speaking, too late to stop Miguel from consuming the Easter egg.
Immediately, he felt a change on his throat. The larynx had completely transformed in an instant.
"What?" Benedict said, mostly to say anything. Just to confirm what exactly had been exchanged.
But instead of his voice, it was Miguel's. Completely. The same timber Benedict had jerked off to, many times in the past. That deep baritone voice that made his knees weak. It was his now. It came from his mouth. Whatever he said, whatever he hummed, or he whispered, or he sang, all would be with Miguel's voice.
As charming as his speaking voice was, however, the devastating truth was that Miguel had never been able to sing. He was completely tone deaf, unable to maintain a note stable at all. Miguel had troubles singing Happy Birthday, for fuck's sake! Any time he showered he sang loudly, and Benito always had to leave the house to maintain his sanity. He didn't want to be stuck with such a bad singing voice.
Worse, Benedict could feel all the years of singing practice leaving his brain. Memories as the main lead of the choir disappearing. The techniques, the exercises, the preparation, the care… All gone.
Instead, Benedict remembered himself singing only while showering, able to hit a single note of whatever song by mere chance. While Miguel was now a proper singer, with a beautiful tenor timber.
Miguel didn't waste the chance, and began to sing.
Benedict stood there, heartbroken, as the voice that used to be his almost brought him to tears from its beauty. Miguel had barely sang a couple of verses of an opera Benedict always loved. One whose name he couldn't remember anymore. It was the most mesmerizing hearing experience of Benedict's life... Per voi sola sospira così/dall'aurora al tramonto del dì...
"Oh fuck!," Miguel said, after he reached the home chord, and thusly felt he could stop singing. Or so Benedict guessed, he couldn't tell anymore. But it felt right. "I sound like you do! It's so insane, bro. Like, why even speak when I could sing now? Fuck… I always envied your voice. I just… Look, man, it's so weird hearing you from my mouth, but don't sweat it. This ain't permanent right? We'll fix everything with the last egg. This is just, like, a little try of what singing like this feels like, man. It's so incredible, bro. I never hoped to sound this beautiful..."
Miguel was smiling ear to ear. Humming with a control and harmony he had never been able to achieve before in his life. Benedict's stomach had sank so low, Benedict didn't know if it would ever work anymore. Was there even a point to his life if music abandoned him? He certainly didn't feel excited to continue this charade. Was it truly all worth it to become a privileged jock...?
But… Well, he could lose his voice, in the big scheme of things. The memories of his life as a singer had faded for the most part, and with them the pain he ought to be feeling. And being tone deaf wouldn't ruin his life. Many people weren't able to sing, and they could lead happy lives. Or so Benedict hoped.
Yes. Losing his voice wouldn't ruin his life. Not when he could improve it in some other ways.
Certainly, he would have preferred to be able to continue being a singer. But, he had envied Miguel's life too much as to give up now. He could become Miguel to the most minimal detail.
If he had to sacrifice his most cherished talent, so be it.
Another egg, and another trade. For something that Benedict had always coveted. Something he had always lusted after, even during those moments Miguel drove him crazy.
"I wish I had his muscles," Benedict said, still unused to his deeper voice.
He was so hard. This voice may not be a good for singing, but it didn't need to. It's husky baritone was enough to make men be consumed by lust, to genuflect with sexual adoration. If Benedict fully became the white jock his step brother had originally been, then everything was worth it. There wasn't a hotter existence possible, in his mind.
As chocolate went down Benedict's throat, the changes took place.
Benedict quickly got out of his shirt. It was already short, and it would certainly rip now if he kept it in. He was barely quick enough to get out of it.
His shoulders were broadening, as well as his back. Pecs growing steadily outwards, biceps ballooning deliciously. Thighs thick not just with fat, but with muscle.
Benedict took his pants off too, barely in time. His underwear wasn't so lucky, and has ripped slightly as his quads grew. Fortunately, not enough to warrant taking them off.
As for his stomach, the fat he still had was hiding his new abs. That's probably what should go next, he thought, patting his belly. He looked like he was bulking. Which wasn't bad at all. Just not his final goal.
His erection was very evident however, so he took his pillow to cover himself. Miguel was distracted looking at himself at the mirror.
Miguel didn't look like a bodybuilder anymore. Instead, he had about the same muscle tone Benedict had originally. Which wasn't much. Miguel looked like a regular slight twink. His clothes were so roomy Benedict couldn't tell how much he had truly changed.
It was mostly Miguel's thinner neck and arms that showed his now skinnier appearance.
"Look at that! You'd be prime twink if you lost that weight, fatty!" Miguel said, touching himself in front of the mirror. "I look so fucking cute this way. I could be a femboy if I wanted."
Benedict frowned in confusion.
"How do you even know what a twink is? And why do you call me fatty still ? I don't even look fat anymore," Benedict asked, his eyes fixated on his step brother.
"Why wouldn't I know that? I have... fucked? Yeah, fucked plenty of them. And I'm used to calling you fatty. Even so, you may not look that fat anymore, but your ass is still as fat and thick as always it's always been."
Benedict's mouth fell slack. He shook his head, keeping the pillow in place as he walked towards his shrunken step brother. He needed to confirm, as well as to ignore how his cock throbbed at Miguel's words.
"What do you mean you've fucked twinks? I thought you were straight… I was sure you were."
"Oh, that," Miguel said, with a chuckle. "I fake being straight for my dad. He's not homophobic, as far as I know. But you never can be sure about that stuff, bro. You didn't know I'm gay? I thought you would clock that as soon as you saw me, bro. Sure, I ain't as… Obvious as you are, or were, but really? You seriously didn't know?"
All Benedict could do, or say, was to shake his head in shock.
This changed everything. If Miguel had been gay all along… That could mean…
No. They may have only met late in life. Almost at seventeen. But they're still step brothers. It'd be weird if anything happened between them. No matter how much Benedict may want it...
Right?
Benedict didn't hear what Miguel was saying now, too focused on recovering from his step brother's earlier words. Once he saw Miguel was eating something Benedict realized he should have been paying better attention.
He had been lucky, however. His current state of undress made obvious what the trade had been, even though he'd never know the precise wording used. The now golden body hair was beginning to recede, leaving a way smoother body than what Benedict had been used to before. This smoothness was something he associated with Miguel.
Chest hair was gone. Forearm and leg hair grew thinner, and lighter. Not very easy to perceive. Benedict knew that, if he rubbed his hands on his legs with enough friction, he could most likely remove some of those hairs with ease. Miguel had done so once before.
Benedict now mostly had his pubes, which were trimmed neatly, and his armpit hair. The rest of his body, neck down, was as smooth as a baby's bottom. His face also didn't have the almost permanent stubble he was used to. Before it didn't matter if he shaved every day, it always looked like he had two days stubble on. Now, he didn't look like he could grow a beard if he wanted to. He knew he could, but it'd take way longer. Benedict even had some of the dew patches of very light stubble Miguel had forgotten to shave off.
On the flipside, Miguel was the opposite. Becoming quite hairy. Had he wished for hair before losing his muscles, he would have been a great Hispanic version of Wolverine. Alas, it couldn't be.
"It's itchy. But it's hot," Miguel said, looking down the neck of his baggy shirt. "How easy it was to go from twink to otter, am I right?"
Benedict didn't want to laugh. The joke was terrible. And only made it more obvious Miguel had probably always been gay. Or a guy who had investigated too much about gay terms for no reason.
That didn't fit his Modus Operandi, however. Miguel never studied anything, especially so if he didn't have to.
Instead of laughing or showing any reaction to Miguel's joke, Benedict took another egg. As he had decided before, he chose to give his fat to Miguel. Now he'd be the fatty. Not Benedict.
Miguel didn't protest, nor emoted much. Probably had seen it coming, even with his reduced level of intelligence.
Given Benedict's new height, the difference before and after the trade didn't feel that dramatic. He had basically gone from bulking to cutting in less than a minute. He looked like the prototypical American jock he had always found infuriatingly hot. Of course, since it was now his appearance instead of Miguel's, it was not vexing at all.
For his step brother the change had been more visible. Although Miguel's clothes were still baggy on him, they were clearly tighter than they used to be. And the shape of a rounder belly was now clearly suggested by the folds of his shirt.
"I feel like I'm the same weight I used to be. But, like, flabby instead of muscular, bro," Miguel said, squeezing the doughy flesh of his belly. "I'm a cuddly fatty now, who would have thought that'd happen?"
"And I look like a God," Benedict replied, flexing his lean musculature. "I could be a model if I wanted looking like this."
"I tried once. I'm… Well, you are now too bulky for most fashion houses, dude. Commercial stuff is fine, though," Miguel said, simply, as if it was nothing.
Miguel had done modeling? And Benedict didn't know?
Perhaps it was for the best. Someone would have caught me jerking off to his photos. Not a problem anymore, though…
"My turn," Miguel said, after Benedict grew quiet. "What could we trade now? We basically have swapped into each other's bodies, bro. Almost, I'd say. Hmm… Oh, I know! We'll trade smarts. Always wanted to know how it feels to be smart."
Benedict didn't bother stopping Miguel. He had been too distracted by his reflection to actually react. Once his brain, however, hit the alarm, it was already too late to do anything.
The pillow fell to the floor. Benedict's eyes grew vacant, as if behind the blue there wasn't an ocean of information but merely a puddle. Thoughts slowed dramatically. As if he had someone went from fast modern day internet to something people had during the 1900s.
"What the fuck, bro? Why'd you make me a dumb-ass?" Benedict asked, his speech patterns changing as his vocabulary dwindled.
Memories shifted too. Gone were the afternoons reading hard sci-fi, or fantasy novels with heavy ruled magic systems. Gone were the medals from the spelling bees contests from childhood, the prizes for excellent essays, the deep conversations Benedict had had on philosophy, science and other multiple topics.
His inner world had been so thoroughly reduced, he didn't feel he was the same person anymore. In fact, he didn't go by his full name anymore. Benedict was too long. Too complex.
Even Benny felt too complicated. Instead, he was Ben. Short, simple, and easy to remember.
"What the… Bened… No, Benny? Hmm... Also no. Ben! You're Ben now. This is insane! My mind is so clear. It's like my brain was a cloudy day suddenly turned diaphanous. I didn't know people thought this swiftly. With such ease. Boy, was I a moron. It's incredible," Miguel said, smiling widely. "I'm almost sorry I took your intellect, man. But since we're going to reverse anything, I suppose there's no harm on me staying this intelligent for a little while. Or you being… Well, dumb."
Ben nodded. He didn't understand everything, but he knew he should act as if he did. People otherwise would think he was dumb. And he wasn't dumb. Right? He wasn't dumb. Couldn't be. It just felt and looked like it.
It was now his turn to eat another egg. Fuck, I hope he doesn't figure out I want to trick him. If I don't say anything maybe he won't notice… Uh…
He stared at the egg in his hand, having forgotten for a second why he needed to eat it. Boy, how could Miguel live like this? It was so frustrating.
"We should swap clothes," Miguel said, distracting Ben. "What I'm using doesn't really fit me anymore. And you shouldn't be half naked when there's no need for it."
Afterwards, Miguel undressed. He didn't remove his underwear, however. Despite that, Ben could feel his mouth salivating. The bulge on Miguel's underwear was insane.
It wasn't the first time Ben had seen Miguel's huge bulge. It looked almost fake. Multiple times he had imagined how the full thing would look like. Was it only long, or was it thick too? Cut or uncut? Veiny or smooth?
Whatever the truth was, Ben wanted to know. Especially because now he knew Miguel was gay. He felt closer than ever to actually seeing that beautiful massive schlong he had dreamed about so much...
But it would have to wait. It was too soon to get it. Miguel could easily reverse it. Ben couldn't allow that. If he waited just enough... If he was patient enough... He would win this thing.
His train of thought was easily interrupted by Miguel giving him his clothes. He had already dressed up on Ben's old clothes.
They suited him perfectly. Like a glove. It was bizarre to think of Miguel wearing such a nerdy Pokémon shirt, but here they were.
Ben kept thinking, as hard as it was, about what he could trade now while he was changing his clothes.
The answer was revealed as he took Miguel's shirt, and had it close to his face. Ben barely kept his composure, and didn't try to smell the shirt despite craving it so badly. How could he forget how much he loved his step brother's stink?
"I want to trade smells," He said, eating the chocolate egg almost too quickly. Miguel laughed, either unbelieving, or simply of shock. Ben didn't care what the answer was.
The change, as it was to be expected, was quick. And Ben felt his cock throb against his borrowed pants. He could feel a new dampness on his armpits, and on his back. He remembered Miguel used to sweat a lot. He had the looks of a model, but was always a sweaty stinky guy. It didn't matter. He looked like a god. A shiny musky god.
Now it was true for Ben. He was the smelly guy with the body suited for divinity.
"I can't believe you swapped that. But it feels nice not to be all covered in sweat for a change," Miguel said, chuckling. "So you really went for the full experience, huh? I wonder…"
Miguel took the second to last egg, and held it on his hand.
"I shouldn't wish for this. I really shouldn't. But… Aren't we going to reverse it all with the last egg? Why does it matter what I wish for? Why does it matter how extreme or how tame it is?"
Fool, Ben thought. I'm still outsmarting you even without my smarts!
"I wish we traded lives. Not just our bodies, but our lives." Miguel said, and ate the egg.
What the? Ben's eyes were as wide as they could be, while his mouth was open slack and drooling.
He didn't expect this. He truly hadn't. It didn't make any sense! It wouldn't have even if he had all his smarts. Why would Miguel want Ben's life?
It all began after that. Ben's memories of living with his single Colombian mom on a small apartment disappeared. Memories of flying each December back to celebrate Christmas left him too. The tastes of traditional food, the rules of fluent Spanish instead of the broken mess taught by the American Education system. The fun of watching soccer with his Colombian relatives. Spanish speaking singers he had loved being removed from his brain, becoming completely unknown.
Instead, those were utterly replaced by a different life. His stepfather had become his real dad, instead of the asshole who disappeared after learning that his mother was pregnant. Ben had been raised almost since birth to care about football. To play it. He had talent for it. And unlike Miguel, Ben used it to shine like a sport's star.
His mother was now a white woman, who had died during his childhood years. While his original mother had become his stepmother he met but two years ago. Ben could recall the wedding, his and Miguel's positions flipped.
The changes weren't merely on their minds. The different parents had changed the last few things of their original bodies. Miguel now had Ben's face completely. Including the nerdy hairstyle. While Ben had Miguel's impossibly handsome face.
Holding his head on his hands, he walked towards the last egg. Ben didn't care about reminiscing about this new life he had apparently lived. Where he was, essentially, who his step brother had formerly been.
"What are you doing?" Miguel asked, panicked, also holding his head, kneeling. "You should wait. It's too soon to turns things back. We should leave as each other at least for a day! Why would you return things back to what they were now?"
Ben didn't listen.
He smirked, confidence and douchey bravado motivating his steps. Finally, he reached the coveted last egg. One that could return everything to what it was. It'd be so simple. To wish to trade everything back to what it were.
"This are our lives now, fatty," Ben said, an evil gleam on his eye. "I ain't going back to being a Latino shortstack, bro. I simply ain't."
Ben removed the wrapping. Miguel tried to move, to stop whatever Ben had planned, but since his mind was still adjusting to the changes, he was slow and clumsy. Ben could almost believe Miguel wasn't actually trying. But perhaps he just was that weak in his new body.
And so, ignoring Miguel, Ben held the egg to his lips. Almost kissing it. His now blue eyes fixated on his shrunken and fattened step brother.
"I wish to trade cocks. So I can finally have that huge dick for myself," He said, loudly. Cackling afterwards, until he are the egg. "Enjoy mediocrity, fatty. I'll be the stud from now on!"
However, the very moment he swallowed, Miguel laughed too.
"I don't have a huge cock, you moron! I always used padding! You don't know what you've done!" Miguel said, barely eloquent as laughter interrupted his words. "Oh boy, what a blunder!"
Miguel fished the padding out of his pants, holding it up with triumph painted on his face. Horror struck Ben, who immediately dropped his pants and underwear down.
He still had his cock. Average, but thick. Heavy balls. It looked bigger given his newly trimmed pubes. But also smaller since his body was so large now. Overall, nothing impressive, but nothing to lament either.
But the image in front of his eyes soon shifted. His cock rapidly dwindled. From average, to small. From small, to tiny. From tiny, to ridiculous.
It was the most absurd thing Ben had ever seen. His cock may as well be a clit. Soft, it didn't even reach an inch. And even so, it was mostly foreskin. Ben stroked it, or tried to. But his big hands were hardly the best to do much with such a small cocklet.
As Ben saw his cock dwindle, and wondered how to even make himself go hard by touch, he barely was aware of how his heavy balls were also shrinking. The whole ball sack growing tight and small. Not that it mattered now. Having big balls wouldn't fix such a tiny cock.
"Don't worry, Ben. I can help you out," Miguel said, all smiles, his chubby hand reaching towards Ben's crotch. "I've out witted you, so you deserve some consolation. And I know just what you need."
Ben thought about protesting. He really did. But his new brain was too slow to actually come with any response. Indeed, he has opened his mouth to say something, when Miguel's warm hand began touching him. And what a touch! Clearly, Miguel knew exactly what to do.
What is he doing?! Oh Fuck! He's fingering my cock!
Miguel was using his thumb, pushing inside Ben's wrinkled foreskin. Caressing the head in such a sensual way, such a careful yet erotic way. Ben didn't know such a sensation was possible.
Soon, he was hard. And although he had grown plenty, his cock was still small. A micro dick by every measure. Hard, it didn't even reach three inches. Perhaps it barely surpassed two.
"Good boy," Miguel said, now stroking the cock he had awakened. "Let me make you cum. It's your consolation prize."
"How? Why?" Ben asked, between grunts and moans. "How is that I lost? I was the ome tricking you!"
Miguel laughed, his fingers never stopping to play with Ben's just acquired two incher.
"Oh, Ben. Isn't it obvious? You thought you were playing me. Getting my height, my muscles, my whiteness. I was dumb, certainly. But not such a moron I wouldn't have understood your little plan. It took me a while to figure out what you planned, I admit. Yet it was clear. You wanted to be me, and you were willing to trick me to achieve it. The issue was that you lacked important information, very important information."
Miguel smiled as he introduced his finger inside Ben's foreskin, caressing the sensitive head in such a way Ben almost fell to his knees.
"One, you didn't know I was gay. Two, you believed me to be a stud. I'm not. I'm a virgin, actually. I didn't fuck any twinks as I said earlier. Not outside of dreams and fantasies, that is. My cock was too small for that, even though I always had the confidence to flirt. Women and men wanted me, and I couldn't have them without revealing my embarrassing secret," Miguel then paused, although he was still pleasuring Ben. "Three, and most importantly, I've always been jealous of you. I always wanted to be a singer, to live for music. I never had the talent. My dad never let me learn, since I didn't show any promise. I was good at football. And so, that's what I did. Play football."
Miguel slowed his hand, looking up at Ben. The big guy was biting his lip. Trembling. So close to release.
"Don't get me wrong," Miguel's continued. "I liked football. But I didn't love it. I didn't put any effort on it. I wanted to be a singer, despite how foolish of a dream that was. So I refused to go along my father's plans. That's why I was almost always benched. Then, my father married your mother. And there you were. Free, with the talent I always coveted. Openly gay, and cute in such a sift nerdy way. In my former stupidity, I bullied you. Because I had the hots for you. And I knew you wanted me too. But I couldn't actually reach for you. Couldn't actually embrace my desire and fuck you senseless as I wanted."
"You wanted me?" Ben said, his deep voice breaking. He was so close. "Fuck, I didn't notice, bro. I wouldn't…"
"Of course you didn't. I was a jerk, seemingly a pussy hound, and relentless at teasing you. No, not even with your former intellect you would have figured it out. The clever thing about stupidity is that it doesn't follow logic, and thus, it can confused even the most brilliant. But we're going off topic, big guy."
Miguel's hand stopped altogether. Which was enough.
Ben came, falling to his knees with a loud moan. It felt as if he was shooting loads and loads of cum. He felt as if he was going to fill the room with his seed. Yet, as he opened his eyes, he realized his cum had been such a meager and watery amount, it barely looked white. It was almost transparent, and… It didn't make a mess at all.
Every drop had fallen on Miguel's palm. A pitiful embarrassing small amount. Miguel didn't waste a second to lick the cum while smirking and looking up at Ben.
"As I was saying, I desired you. But also envied you. I had never expected to actually get your life. And I was terrified of my wish actually coming true, regardless of how much I actually wanted it. As much as I envied you, I did love being me. Being me is awesome. I had distrust for the eggs, yet you dismissed my legitimate concerns. And then you made it so obvious you wanted to steal my life. Seriously, you didn't even complain out loud when I took your singing voice! And, well, since we both wanted the same thing, I played along. I wasn't expecting you to take our last chance to turn things back, although I hoped you would. I guessed you'd leave my cock for last. As a grand finale. A final fuck you to me. But I wasn't sure. I was open to bottom for you, if that was the case. Fortunately, things turned around in my favor. By your own hands…"
Miguel held Ben's face, looking at him tenderly.
"Now I have a real cock. Not the biggest perhaps, but more than I've ever had before. And I will use it. From this day you'll be my bitch. I'll help you be the best jock, the best football player, and the best bottom you could be. And I'll be the wondrous singer who'll fuck you until you forget your own name. Which won't be difficult, given your reduced intellect."
Thusly, as if to prove his own words, Miguel kissed Ben on the lips. Despite his height and muscle loss, he immediately took control of the kiss. While Ben, after the shock wore off, acquiesced and gave himself fully to his step brother.
Thanks to Mr. Hexum Chocolate Eggs, they had essentially become each other. Only their former names remained somewhat. Adapted to their new identities. Of course, they also finally had the truth. That they desired each other. That they were both gay.
In a way, they had fixed their little world. The truth was out, and both had gotten what they envied from the other. Talent, beauty, freedom, and more.
The box of chocolate eggs disappeared without any of the two noticing. Too worried about fucking for the first time to care about the now empty box. Perhaps it'll be found again next year by them. Or it'll wait for somebody else.
How neither Ben nor Miguel knew. And neither cared enough to figure it out. Despite how diametral their change had been, neither was disappointed.
The only real issue was how to explain their new romance to their parents. But Ben didn't worry much about it. Miguel certainly had the smarts to figure it out on his own.
