#height change

The doors opened and in walked two brothers, though by the looks of them you would never know they were even closely related. Standing tall and confident was Brad. Brad was 18, 6 feet tall, 200 pounds of muscle, and captain of the football team. His blond hair was in a neat crew cut. A sports jersey hugged every curve of his built chest and tight cargos (exposing a prominent bulge) clung to his hairy, tree trunk legs. Expensive Nikes adorned his rather large feet. Even in this disquieting place, his rugged face bore a winning, cocky grin and his brilliant blue eyes glowed with victory. Every cell of his body radiated power, confidence and masculinity. Brad was the favorite son, playing sports since he could grasp a ball and popular with everyone, especially the ladies. Brad was proud to be scoring as much off the field as on. Like all popular jocks, he didn’t shy away from partying and the occasional drink, but he wasn’t dumb. He actually maintained fairly good grades so he could get a good scholarship and have something to fall back on after football. He was the all American dream and his parent’s pride and joy. His brother, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Andy was the little brother, 16, 5’5" and lean. He wasn’t without muscles. Indeed, constant surfing endowed him with a nice overall tone and a striking tan that made even the athletic Brad look like a ghost next to him. His long dark hair hung like a veil in front of his mysterious green eyes, always staring into an unseen world. As he walked the slapping of his flip flops could be heard. Flowery boardies came to just above his knees and a wife beater hugged his chest, exposing his dark, toned arms. A red, yellow and green anklet gave a clue to his favorite hobby. Abhorrence and jealousy of his popular brother had warped his personality for the worst, and rather than strive to be like his brother he had taken to loathing all he stood for. Andy spent his days surfing and smoking weed, chilling with friends and letting the herb take all his concerns away, never mind that he worried his parents to death and was in danger of being held back. 

Brad consequently came to hate his little brother, who his parents had to constantly tend to, drawing attention from him. Brad despised everything about Andy, his small frame, his apathy and disregard and most of all his smoking. 

Their parents knew sibling rivalry was natural and inevitable and were content to let it run its course, but the fights grew worse, Brad on one occasion broke Andy’s arm and Andy in response took his lighter and burned Brad’s cheek. They heard from a friend of a center that dealt with juvenile delinquents and was also trying out some experimental, revolutionary sibling therapy. They were quick to send in their kids, the several thousand dollars for participating was more than enough to get them to sign any and all waiver papers.

The boys were quickly separated and placed in separate rooms where they were evaluated and secretly chipped. The man in the room with Brad informed him they had placed an experimental chip in his brother and that if he called him “Rob,” he would trigger a several hour long transformation into the perfect jock brother he had always wanted who would play sports and go to parties with him. Brad smiled at the thought of being able to make his useless brother a strong jock, a real brother to play catch with, go on double dates and get shit faced with to celebrate a victory. 

In another room, a man was explaining to Andy that by calling his brother “Chad,” he would temporarily transform his uptight, sports-centered brother into a laid back stoner who loved surfing and chilling. Neither sibling was informed of there own chip or trigger and both were sent home with no directions or orders on how or when to use the command, they were left to their own wills.

——

Not long after they got home, Brad was working out in his room, already planning to teach Andy a lesson and turn him into Rob. Their parents were out for the day, likely not to return until late in the evening. Conditions were perfect to spend some good brother time with the football star, Rob. With renewed strength and determination, he finished his set, wiped the sweat from his brow and walked over to Andy’s room. In contrast to Brad’s large, relatively clean room, which he adorned with his sports trophies and posters of cheerleaders, Andy’s room was small, with clothes and surfing magazines scattered in piles every which way and the foul stench of pot drifted into the hall. Brad covered his nose at the offensive odor. Andy lay in his bed, likely blazed, as he stared up into the ceiling and listened to his stoner music through his headphones. Brad never liked any of that crap. Like all the popular jocks, it was rap all the way, the better to win over the ladies and fuel his already burgeoning ego. Andy soon noticed his brother hovering over him and took off his headphones; his eyes were already dilated as he sat up and gave a stupid grin. Unknown to Brad, Andy was not going to hesitate. He wanted to see Chad as soon as possible, he was sick of his bossy older brother. “Wassup, dude?” He asked, drawing out each word as if it was a struggle to speak. The long, sleepy syllables only fed Brad’s frustration and reassured him he was doing the right thing. “Nothing much man, was just thinking we need to hang out more like real brothers, don’t you think?” Andy’s smile broadened and he nodded his head. “So right, dude. We do need to hang out more… Chad.” Brad looked confused and then stumbled back as the name hit him. There was power behind the word, power and a familiarity, like it struck a certain part of him. Thoughts raced through Brad’s mind. First, he realized he had obviously been duped. He had been chipped as well, he could already feel the change being pumped into his blood stream and a voice in the back of his head whispering to him to be like his brother. He knew he had to fight it, he had no other choice, he couldn’t let himself be a brainless stoner like his brother, they were so dumb and like relaxed and laid back… He shook his head defiantly; already the chip was beginning to assert control. It wouldn’t be long until Brad was Chad, Andy’s ideal stoner brother. Already he felt his will being nibbled at; his muscles ached soon to be much smaller. “C’mon dude, don’t fight it, Chad, be like me! We’ll like get stoned and shit together it’ll be totally awesome!” To the growing part of Brad that was now Chad, that did sound good. He stared down at the floor, feeling like he was going to be sick as he watched the carpet race up to greet him. He was dropping in height, all those proud inches that made him the indomitable force on the football team were slipping away, little by little, until he was staring his once “little” brother right in the eye. 

His jersey from earlier that had once looked painted on was now barely clinging to him, ready to fall off at any moment. His cargoes likewise were down to about his ankles and he had to constantly pull them up to keep them from sliding off completely. “Those fucking liars, I’m gunna… I’m… like totally lovin’ this, dude!” Brad’s hands raced to cover his mouth; he never meant to say that. Not only was he talking like his stoner brother, but even his tone had changed, the power in his voice replaced by the slow, subtleness of his brother, the laid back tone that he had once hated. His eyes swept the room desperately looking for something to help him, someway to escape. He saw his brother’s CD collection: Sublime, Dirty Heads, Red Hot Chili Peppers… somehow he knew all the songs, they played in his head as if he had grown up listening to them. He tried to think, to focus and force Chad, he thought of rap, of sports, of football statistics but all those bored and disgusted him now. 

“Awesome, you sounded like me! Do it again Chad! Say ‘dude’!” Brad violently shook his head, noticing a lot more hair waving about as he did, his once short blond hair creeping down past his ears closer to his shoulders. 

But his body and mind were at the mercy of the chip and his brother. “Dude!” He exclaimed slowly and with more enthusiasm, adopting his brother’s dopey grin for a moment as he mentally screamed at himself. His voice had raised a few octaves now sounding like a mid-puberty teen and not a giant jock anymore. He looked down at his arms as they trembled uncontrollably in agony, his muscles dwindled away, giving way to nice even tone. His arms became shorter and more proportional to his short frame. His giant hands became smaller with slender careful fingers that automatically knew how to roll a perfect blunt. Like a dark wave a tan just like his brothers washed over his arms and hands making his skin golden brown, flawless and with only few blond hairs instead of the many he had before. The wave moved across his body, slowly but surely. He felt it working under his jersey and gave minimum resistance as Andy helped him out of it. “From now on, dude, you hate wearing shirts, you only put that shit on when you have to, its boardies and flip flops for you dude.” Chad/Brad secretly smiled at the thought of dressing like a surfer, the clothes part of him still loathed sounded so comfortable and liberating now. He barely noticed as his chest took on the same golden brown hue as his arms, all the hair falling out except a small blond treasure trail on his slight six-pack. Not a hair was to be found on toned but small pecs. He looked down at his revealed chest, loving and hating it. Chad thought he looked sexy; Brad was mortified at his lean, disgustingly figure. Brad blushed in embarrassment as the changing wave worked its way down south causing his pants and boxers to finally slide off revealing his large equipment which sadly dwindled down a few inches as it regressed in age like the rest of him. 

Andy snickered. “Don’t worry dude, soon you’ll see how awesome pot is, you’ll forget all about sex.” Brad felt his once thick legs now slender, almost smooth but very tan sticks. His calves and thighs were toned and sizable from surfing but they were nothing compared to what he once had. Brad walked forward, stepping out of his too large clothes, even his shoes and socks were ridiculously big on him and fell right off exposing his small, slender size 7 feet which were just as tan as the rest of him. His socks and size 14 boats vanished into thin air leaving him cold and stark naked in his brother’s room with a mind and body that were quickly turning against him. Brad felt his hands move on their own accord as he eagerly grabbed a pair boardies identical to his brothers and slid them on over his tan legs, they felt so awesome. Andy found a pair of old flip flops and helped his brother into them, they fit perfectly, hugged every curve of his feet. He wiggled his toes, Chad in almost full control of his body. “Please dude, I mean Andy you gotta like stop thissss is so sweet!” Chad’s eyes rolled back as another wave of changes racked his body and mind, his nostrils caught the sweet scent of weed, he sniffed the air finding to his pleasure and humiliation it was coming from him. He watched in the mirror as within seconds his eyes dilated. Though they remained green, there was now something different about them. The keenness and sharpness was lost, like nobody was home anymore. His shoulders slouched as his overall posture became forced into that of a carefree stoner. A general disregard and goofiness gripped his façade as a witless smile permanently etched itself onto his face. His blonde hair continued to lengthen until just past his shoulders, becoming thick and messy. 

A tickling feeling brought his attention back to his face where, to his horror, scraggly blond hairs were popping out his chin, one by one. He plucked and pulled but to his bewilderment they grew faster than he could stop them until he had a shaggy stoner goatee. He ran a hand through it slowly, hesitantly, enjoying the feel, wondering if he was already lost. Part of him couldn’t help but enjoy the changes, they felt so right, he felt so relaxed, calm, his life had always been stressing about the next big game, the next test. He made no motion to stop his brother as he lit a blunt and stuffed it into Chad’s waiting mouth, a few puffs were all it took to drive the rest of Brad deep deep down, trapped until the change was over. So good, they thought, as Chad/Brad held the smoke in his lungs like an expert, letting the chemicals take over his mind. As he felt Chad overshadow him he thought, at least I won’t have to worry about anything… The new Chad put an arm around his awesome brother. “Dude, pot is sweet; we gotta chill more often bro!” Andy smiled. “We will, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Yes, mister…. Perkins?” said the teacher, consulting her seating chart. Close one. “I have to go to the bathroom!” “Right now? You’ve had all morning to-“


“It’s an emergency!” Kyle jumped up from his desk, knocking it over in a mad dash out the door. He darted past the hall monitor who just stared at him agape as he ran out the front doors of the school. He didn’t even think about where he was going, so when he finally looked up he realized he was in the same neighborhood as his weed dispensary. 

He might have been a high school senior with no visible body hair (curse his blonde locks!), but he was genetically blessed with a height over six feet, and that combined with his fake ID granted him access to a lot of places that other teens his age couldn’t even dream of. Come to think of it, he really needed to calm down right about now… And nobody at the dispensary knew his real name. The name on his ID was “Walter Gibbons” so he was safe there. Kyle nodded. It was a plan. Some indica, then brainstorming how the hell to keep anyone from saying his full name until the end of time. He walked up to the dispensary and saw the desk clerk Carlos standing in the alley having a smoke break.waved hello to the desk clerk. He was always nice to Kyle. That may have been due to the fact that, at 5 foot 6, Carlos had to crane his neck to even look at Kyle. But regardless, Kyle was happy to see him. 

Carlos looked up and smiled, his glasses glinting in the sunlight as he craned his neck, smoke curling from between his lips. “Hi Walt! Early day today, huh? My break’s ending, you can follow me inside. Got your ID?” Kyle, relieved to see a friendly face, fumbled through his wallet as he followed Carlos through the double doors and handed him his fake ID. Carlos wrinkled his nose. “I hate to break it to you, but the birthdate here is wrongl. Is this a friend of yours? Kyle Perkins?”

Shiiiiiiit. In his nervous distraction, Kyle must have handed Carlos the wrong ID! He laughed and said, “oh, I’m holding that for my… nephew. Here’s my real ID.” He passed the fake driver’s license to Carlos, their fingers brushing as he took the card. As soon as they touched, Kyle felt a spark of electricity. Double shiiiiiit. In his fear of being caught, he hadn’t even noticed the curse being activated! Well he couldn’t help but notice now, because his head began to spin. He reached his hand out to stabilize himself on the desk, but he just slammed his forearm into its wooden front. Was the desk always that high up? How had he misjudged that? “Carlos? How tall am I?” “How should I know?” Carlos grinned, his smile lighting up his features. How had Kyle never noticed how cute that smile made him look? “Let me check your ID. Ah yes, 5 foot 7, just like always. Are you already high? It’s a little early for that, babe. At least wait for me to get home.” Carlos winked and Kyle felt his heart melt. He found purchase on the desk finally, looking the clerk directly in the eye. It was weird not to have to crane his neck anymore, but at this angle, he could see just how attractive Carlos truly was. His brown skin was perfectly smooth, and his luxurious black hair was swept upward and away from his perfectly symmetrical face. The fact that he had literally just shrunk seven inches didn’t bother him in the slightest if it gave him easier access to this man’s luscious lips… He tried to snap himself out of it. “You know what, Carlos? I think I just need some air. I’ll… I’ll be right back.” He dashed out the door and into the parking lot, unlocking his black Prius and hopping in the driver’s seat, leaning against the wheel for support while he took deep breaths. 

Wait… he didn’t have a car! He jolted upward, looking around in alarm at the interior of the Prius, which he had literally never been inside before this very moment. And yet… it felt familiar. There were the beads he had strung over the rearview mirror to give it a little color. There was the scuff he and Carlos had made on the glove compartment when they were getting a little nasty in the passenger seat. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Obviously Carlos had activated the curse, but maybe there was something he could do to stop it before anything more than his height changed. He didn’t want to be in love with some dude forever! He hadn’t even kissed a girl yet! He tried to conjure up images of girls in his head, but the best he could do was a memory of Carlos with the waist-length hair he had back when he first started going to the dispensary. He flipped his hair, his dark eyes staring into Kyle’s with pure lust. Kyle’s dick started to plump up in his pants, reaching full mast then extending even further like an inflating balloon until it became a thick eight inch sausage. He groaned and rubbed it through the fabric, enjoying the shivers of pleasure emanating from his now larger member. At least his height was the only thing that shrank, he thought with relief. The fabric covering his crotch and legs began to shimmer and soften, becoming a pair of high-end grey sweat pants. The lighter color really made the dark skin of his arm pop as he continued to rub himself. He stopped in shock. Since when was he so tan? His entire arm was now a deep brown, like he was dipped in paint. The only part that was still pale was his shoulder, but he could see the color spreading, covering his entire shoulder and flowing underneath his shirt.

He reached to pull open his collar and track the color’s progress, but his collar wasn’t there anymore. The fabric of his shirt pulled itself down as if by its own gravity, becoming a scooped turquoise tank top that barely covered his nipples. The newly airy garment allowed him the perfect vantage to see the brown color spread across his chest and down his other arm, swirling around his nipples until they too turned dark brown and stuck out from his chest, hard as thumbtacks. The color spread out of sight down into his sweats, where he could only assume it was spreading onto his legs and his feet. He quickly kicked off his shoes and lifted up the cuff of his sweats to investigate. Sure enough, color was spreading across his foot, delicately painting each toe like he was brushing on nail polish. He flipped down the sun visor and looked at himself in the mirror to see the last of the color spreading its way across his face. He looked like a marshmallow slowly roasting over a bonfire, the pale color rapidly fading away until he was left with a completely brown face framed by horribly clashing blonde hair.

He wondered what exactly Carlos’ type was. He imagined he was probably supposed to be Mexican now, to match Carlos. He flipped the radio onto one of the Spanish channels to see if he could understand anything. But beyond a few words he had learned in high school, it was all gobbledygook. Frustrated, he went to turn off the radio, but accidentally pushed one of the channel preset buttons, and instantly the car filled with the wailing of an electric sitar. A female voice sang in Hindi along with a dance beat and instantly his pulse started to race. He could understand every word she was saying… and he was loving it! He jammed along with the beat, pumping his fist and singing along with the words. He began drumming the dashboard, not noticing the black hairs that had started to pop up on the back of his hands. As they wriggled out of their follicles, the veins on the back of his hands rose to prominence, his wrists thickening as the hair spread up his forearms. 

The hair continued its march, spreading across his upper arms in a thick black sheet as the skin beneath it rippled, pulsing with cords of muscle that gave him bulging, brilliant, brown biceps. His underarms tickled as a huge, thick thatch of hair sprouted, spreading to several inches in diameter. 

The hair continued on its inexorable path, spreading in the same pattern that the color had just used, swirling around his nipples as his pecs began to plump up, forming a formidable shelf that threatened to burst the already tenuous hold his loose tank top had over his torso. It was itching too much anyway, so he just took it off. His stomach caved in, forming cobblestone abs that became dusted with thick black hair, which spread across his skin like a river forming rivulets between boulders.

A huge pubic thatch burst into existence above his swollen member, so thick that, if he had lifted up his shirt, you could see it bursting from the top of his sweats. His legs tickled as the hair ran down them, and his sweats dug in as his quadriceps and calves similarly expanded with muscle. His vantage point raised by an inch as his ass plumped up beneath him, becoming round and thick with muscle. He wriggled his toes as they each sprouted their own personal tiny patch of coarse dark hair. As he put on a shirt and jacket he found in the back seat, he scratched an itch on his chest, enjoying the texture of his forest of hair against his smooth skin. When the commercials came on, he looked back into the mirror and winked at himself, barely even noticing that his green eyes had darkened to brown, his thin blonde eyebrows thickening into two wide black strips. His nose elongated into a thin, hooked shape that belied his proud Indian heritage as a short black beard sprouted around his thick lips, tickling as it spread into a pair of luscious sideburns. As soon as it met with his blonde hair, the black color spread like spilled oil, shearing down the sides and giving the top of his short hair a natural lift and bounce.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp sting on his neck. He slapped it, thinking it was some bug, but when he removed his hand, he revealed a small tattoo of a triangle on the nape. A similar sting struck his nose as a small silver ring pierced its way into it. He thought it looked great and he wrinkled his nose, giving a little head waggle of sheer delight.

A knock on the window startled him out of his reverie. He looked out the window to see the dispensary clerk beaming. His face broke into a wide grin, his teeth gleaming white. “Carlos!” “Let me in, pendejo! Unless you’re trying to go home without me. Which I wouldn’t advise, because I still have this.” Carlos held up a driver’s license and wiggled it teasingly. “Alright, alright, you win.” Kyle unlocked the passenger door and Carlos left in, giving him a passionate hello kiss. Kyle’s entire body felt like every neuron was firing, lighting him up with sheer pleasure. His dick, which had begun to go soft (still larger than it had ever been before) stood back up at full attention. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you too,” said Carlos, settling back into his seat. “Now hold onto this because you know a car with two brown men is going to get pulled over at some point, and you don’t want to be without your license.” “Sure thing, babe. You know me. I’d forget my own name if it wasn’t tattooed on me.” Carlos lifted up the tank top to reveal a tattoo in curly script on Kyle’s hip. “Just don’t get it mixed up with mine, I don’t want to know what kind of trouble you’d get me into.” As he pulled his shirt back down and began to back out of his parking space, the tattoo finished unfurling across his dark skin, filling the only space that wasn’t covered with dense, curly hair. “Kiaan + Carlos Forever”