#wish gone wrong

The house emerged from the trees like a ghost from their childhood. A large, two-story Victorian-style lakeside retreat with dark timber framing, wide verandas, and tall windows that once let in endless summer light. Now the paint was faded and peeling, the shutters on the upper floor hung at odd angles, and moss clung to the roof tiles. The garden had gone wild tall grass swaying in the breeze, rose bushes grown into chaotic thickets, and the old wooden dock stretching out over the dark water of the lake like a skeletal finger.

They parked and stepped out. The evening air was cool, carrying the gentle lapping of water against the shore. Crickets had already begun their nightly chorus.

“Still standing, at least,” Joey muttered, slinging a duffel bag over his shoulder. “Your mum never sold it?”

“Couldn’t bring herself to. It’s been in the family since my great-grandfather built it. After Uncle Richard disappeared… she just locked the doors and paid someone to check on it once a year.”

They climbed the creaky porch steps. Duncan pulled out an old key that still somehow worked. The heavy oak door groaned open, releasing a rush of stale, dusty air that smelled of aged wood, old books, and faint traces of pipe tobacco that somehow never fully faded.

Inside, time had frozen. The furniture was still draped in white sheets like ghosts. Duncan pulled one off the big leather sofa in the living room, sending a cloud of dust dancing in the golden evening light filtering through the windows.

“Jesus,” Joey laughed softly, running his fingers along the carved mantelpiece. “Look at this. We used to race Matchbox cars right here. You always cheated.”

“I did not,” Duncan protested with a grin. “You just sucked at it.”

They spent the next hour exploring the ground floor together, beers in hand. Every room triggered another memory. The kitchen where they’d made disastrous pancake experiments. The hallway where they’d slid down the banister until Duncan’s mother caught them. The study lined with dark oak shelves still filled with Uncle Richard’s old travel books, maps, and strange artifacts from every corner of the world.

Eventually they made their way upstairs, footsteps echoing on the worn hardwood. The door to the attic was at the end of the corridor, half-hidden behind a tall cabinet. Duncan hesitated for a moment before opening it. Narrow stairs led up into darkness. He flicked on the old light switch. A single bare bulb hummed to life, casting long shadows across the vast, cluttered space.

The attic was exactly as they remembered it low rafters, trunks stacked high, old furniture covered in sheets, and shelves upon shelves of Uncle Richard’s souvenirs. Brass instruments, carved wooden masks, colorful textiles, strange coins, and glass bottles from distant lands.

They sat on an old Persian rug in the middle of the floor, legs stretched out, cracking open fresh beers.

“God, we were so sure we’d end up like him,” Joey said quietly, gesturing at the collection around them. “Traveling the world. No ties. Pure freedom.”

Duncan took a long sip. “Yeah. Remember how we’d play explorers up here? You’d put on that old turban and declare yourself Sultan Joey the Magnificent. I was always your loyal adventurer sidekick.”

Joey chuckled. “We swore we’d never settle down. No mortgages, no office jobs, no responsibilities. Just passports full of stamps and stories worth telling.”

A comfortable silence fell for a moment before Duncan’s voice grew heavier. “Instead, I’m turning thirty in two days with a wedding planned, a promotion that feels more like a cage, and a spare tire I can’t get rid of no matter how many times I join a gym. Kelly’s great, but… sometimes I wonder what the hell happened to us.”

Joey stared at the floor. “Tell me about it. Cynthia’s seven months pregnant. I love her. I really do. But I’m still pouring pints at The Crown six nights a week. No degree, no prospects, just scraping by. We were supposed to be different, Duncan. We had stars in our eyes.”

They talked for a long time about the girls, the jobs, the quiet disappointment that had crept into their lives like fog over the lake. The conversation eventually drifted back to Uncle Richard.

“You know… I still think about him,” Duncan said, voice low. “Mum never talks about it. The official story was that he just… vanished. Packed a bag one night in late August and was gone. No note. No body. The police investigated for months but found nothing. Some people thought he ran off with a woman. Others said suicide. But we both know that wasn’t him.”

Joey nodded slowly. “He was the happiest person I’ve ever met. Always laughing, always planning the next trip. Remember that scar on his arm he said came from a camel bite in Morocco? Or the way he’d tell stories about getting lost in the souks of Marrakech? Who would have thought this would be his last trip…”

Duncan stood up and walked over to a particular shelf. He picked up a small, ornate oil lamp made of aged brass with intricate oriental patterns sitting on a dusty box. It looked remarkably clean compared to everything else in the attic.

"This was his favorite piece,” Duncan murmured. “He told us once that it was special. Said it had… history.” He turned it over in his hands. “Funny. After he disappeared, Mum wanted everything cleared out, but she couldn’t touch this room. Said it felt like he was still here.”

What Duncan didn’t know what no one in the family had ever known was the truth. Uncle Richard had indeed found this lamp years earlier during one of his travels. He had become its master. He had made his wishes. And when the Genie had finished granting them in his own cruel, creative way, Richard had been transformed and rewritten into a new life far from this one. The Genie had neatly erased him from this world, leaving only mystery and grief behind. The lamp had returned here, waiting patiently for the next pair of dreamers.

Joey stood up and joined him, taking the lamp gently. “Crazy to think we used to rub this thing as kids, hoping a genie would pop out and take us on adventures.” He rubbed his thumb across the surface absentmindedly while continuing to speak. “Imagine if it actually worked. We could fix everything. Get our old bodies back. Have the careers we should have had. Live the life we always talked about.”

He tossed the lamp lightly to Duncan. “Your turn to make a wish, birthday boy.”

Duncan caught it with a laugh and rubbed it as well, playing along. “Yeah, sure. Three wishes to turn our boring lives into something legendary.”

The moment his fingers completed the second rub, the lamp began to vibrate.

At first it was subtle a faint tremor. Then it grew stronger. Duncan frowned. “Joey… it’s getting warm.”

Joey stepped closer. “What do you mean warm? Let me see…”

Suddenly the brass grew scalding hot. Duncan cried out in shock and pain. “Fuck! It’s burning me!” He tried to drop it, but for a terrifying second his fingers seemed stuck to the metal. Joey grabbed at it instinctively to help, and searing pain shot through both their palms.

They finally managed to fling the lamp to the floor. It clattered loudly against the wooden boards. Both men staggered back, clutching their hands. Their palms were bright red, already blistering, the skin looking raw and angry. The pain was intense, throbbing in time with their racing heartbeats.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell was that?!” Joey gasped; teeth gritted. Tears of pain pricked at the corners of his eyes. “It felt like molten iron!”

Duncan was breathing hard, staring at the lamp on the floor. Thick purple smoke had begun to leak from its spout, swirling unnaturally, rising and twisting in deliberate patterns. The air in the attic grew heavy, charged, as if the temperature itself had shifted.

The smoke thickened, coalescing, taking shape.

A tall, powerfully muscled figure began to form bronzed skin, bare chest, sheer blue silk pants. The Genie’s eyes opened, glowing faintly, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face.

The two friends stood frozen, pain and terror mixing as they stared at the impossible being now standing before them in the dusty attic.

The Genie tilted his head slightly, regarding their burned hands with mock sympathy. He raised one finger as if to say “wait,” and the purple smoke around him stirred again.

Then, very slowly, he began to move toward them.

The Genie stood before them in the dimly lit attic, towering and impossibly real. He was easily six and a half feet tall, with broad, powerfully sculpted shoulders and a chest that looked carved from warm bronze. His skin glowed with a healthy, sun-kissed tone. The only clothing, he wore was a pair of sheer blue silk pants that hung low on his narrow hips, the fabric so thin it revealed the heavy outline of his cock and balls with every subtle shift of his body. A faint, exotic scent of sandalwood, spice, and something electric filled the air.

Joey and Duncan pressed back against an old trunk, hearts hammering. Their burned hands throbbed with fierce pain.

“This isn’t real,” Joey whispered, voice shaking. “This can’t be real. Duncan, tell me this is some kind of fucked-up hallucination.”

Duncan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the being. “If it is, we’re both having it.”

The Genie’s lips curved into a slow, amused smile. His eyes a deep, piercing amber studied them with predatory interest. “Fear not, Masters. I mean you no immediate harm.” His voice was rich, cultured, with a faint accent that seemed to shift between languages. “You rubbed the lamp together. You freed me together. Therefore, you share three wishes. No more. No less.”

He took one graceful step forward. Joey flinched.

“Stay back!” Duncan shouted, cradling his blistered right hand against his chest. The pain was excruciating, like someone had pressed a hot iron into his palm. Blisters were already forming. Joey’s hand looked just as bad.

The Genie tilted his head, clearly enjoying their terror. “Such small injuries… and yet you tremble. How fragile humans are.” He raised his right hand slowly, deliberately, fingers spread. Purple smoke began to drift lazily from his fingertips. “Allow me to demonstrate my sincerity.”

Joey’s breathing quickened. “Don’t touch us! We don’t want anything from you!”

But the Genie ignored him. The smoke drifted toward them like living tendrils. Duncan tried to scramble backward but hit the trunk. The smoke gently coiled around both men’s injured hands without touching their skin. A strange warmth not burning this time, but soothing, almost silky enveloped their palms.

“Oh God…” Duncan breathed.

At first, nothing visible happened. The pain remained sharp. Then, very slowly, the Genie closed his eyes as if concentrating. The smoke pulsed. A tingling sensation spread across Duncan’s palm, like thousands of tiny needles dancing just beneath the surface. The redness began to fade from the edges inward. Blisters that had started to rise flattened gradually. The raw, angry skin lightened from crimson to pink, then to healthy flesh. The deep throbbing eased into a gentle itch, then disappeared entirely.

Duncan stared, wide-eyed, as he flexed his fingers. No pain. No mark. Nothing.

Joey’s healing was even slower, more theatrical. The Genie clearly wanted them to feel every second. Joey watched in horrified fascination as the blisters on his hand shrank, popped without fluid, and the skin knitted itself back together. The process took nearly a full minute. When it was done, both men’s hands looked completely untouched, as if the burns had never happened.

The Genie lowered his hand. The purple smoke dissolved. “Better?” he asked, voice dripping with mock politeness.

Duncan examined his palm under the attic bulb, turning it over and over. “How… how did you do that?”

“I am a Genie. Healing is among the simplest of arts.” He smiled again, but the expression never reached his eyes. Those eyes held centuries of cruel entertainment. “Now. You have three wishes. I suggest you use them thoughtfully. Many before you have regretted hasty words.”

Joey swallowed hard. His mind was racing. Part of him still screamed that this was impossible a prank, a dream, gas leak, anything. But the healed hands were undeniable. The being in front of them was undeniable.

He looked at Duncan. “We should just leave. Run. This thing is dangerous.”

Duncan hesitated, breathing heavily. “And if it’s real? If we actually have three wishes?” His voice dropped. “Joey… we’ve been talking all night about how we fucked up our lives. This could be our only chance.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Fear and desperate hope warred on both their faces.

“Fine,” Joey said finally, voice hoarse. “But we think carefully. No rushing. We discuss every wish.”

The Genie crossed his powerful arms over his broad chest and waited, clearly entertained by their mortal panic.

Duncan spoke first, choosing his words with care. “Before we wish anything… what are the limits? Can we wish for anything?”

“Almost anything,” the Genie replied smoothly. “I cannot raise the dead in their original form. I cannot force genuine love where none exists. And I cannot undo wishes already granted. Everything else…” He spread his hands. “Is negotiable.”

Joey ran a hand through his hair, thinking hard. “Okay. Okay. We need to be smart.”

They sat down again on the old Persian rug, keeping distance from the Genie. For nearly twenty minutes they talked in low, urgent voices, weighing possibilities while the Genie watched silently, his smirk never fading.

Duncan went deep into his regrets. “I’ve put on nearly thirty pounds since university. I feel old. Slow. Every time I look in the mirror, I see a guy who gave up. If I could just have my twenty-year-old body back lean, strong, full of energy that alone would change everything. I could actually enjoy life again instead of feeling like I’m already declining at twenty-nine.”

Joey nodded slowly. “I get it. For me… it’s the wasted potential. I dropped out after first year. If I’d stuck with it, gotten my degree in finance like I planned… I could’ve given Cynthia and the baby a real future. Instead, I’m pouring beers and worrying about rent. I wish I had actually succeeded. That I’d become someone.”

They kept talking, circling the same fears. What if the wishes backfired? What if the Genie twisted them? They tried to add safeguards, but every condition they imagined felt clumsy.

Eventually Duncan stood up, lamp in hand. His voice was steady despite the fear in his eyes.

“I wish I had the body I had at twenty.”

The Genie’s amber eyes flashed with dark delight. He bowed his head slightly.

“As you wish.”

A faint pulse of energy passed through the attic, but no visible change occurred yet. Duncan exhaled shakily. “It… it didn’t do anything.”

“It will,” the Genie said softly. “When all three wishes are spoken.”

Joey took the lamp next. His hands were trembling. He thought of Cynthia, of the baby on the way, of all the nights he lay awake wondering how he’d provide. His voice cracked slightly.

“I wish I had gotten my degree and made something of myself.”

“As you wish,” the Genie repeated, the same hungry smile playing on his lips.

Another subtle pulse. Joey felt a strange flutter in his chest but pushed it down. He handed the lamp back to Duncan.

They stood shoulder to shoulder now, holding the lamp together. The weight of the moment pressed down on them. This was their last wish the one that had to count.

Duncan spoke carefully. “We’ve spent our whole lives dreaming about this. Travel. Adventure. Real excitement. No more boring routines. No more feeling like we settled.”

Joey finished the thought, voice firm despite his fear. “We wish for the exciting life full of travel and adventure we were always meant to have.”

The Genie was silent for several heartbeats. His smile slowly widened into something predatory and ancient. For the first time, both men felt a chill run down their spines, as if they had just stepped off a cliff.

“As you wish,” the Genie finally purred, each word dripping with satisfaction.

He raised his hand dramatically.

The air in the attic grew thick with purple smoke and electric tension. A low humming filled their ears. Both Joey and Duncan felt a strange warmth bloom in the center of their chests pleasant at first, then rapidly intensifying.

They looked at each other, eyes wide with a mixture of apprehension and exhilarating hope. For a short moment, they felt like they were on the edge of the greatest adventure of their lives. They had found the long-lost spark that animated their hearts and days.

In front of them, the genie was standing straight, a malicious smile covered his tanned cheeks and with a sweet movement of his wrist and fingers, he snaped.

Purple smoke exploded outward like a living storm, choking them in thick, electric heat. Joey gasped in surprise first shortly followed by an intense sensation of discomfort followed by pain as the agony ripped into his legs. “AHHHHHHH THE FUCK IS THAT!!! IT HURTS! MAKE IT STOP!” His thighs and calves shattered and swelled violently, bones lengthening with wet cracking sounds while powerful new muscle tore through his flesh. He collapsed to his knees as his feet followed, toes breaking and stretching, arches rising painfully as his shoes split apart. Joey tried to look around with the hope to see his friend ready to help him or the genie about to snap his fingers again to cancel this clearly bad outcome of their wishes but he saw nothing, only purple glittery smoke bocking everything from his view. “HELP ME!” He screamed one more time with the hope of finding help but he only heard a villainous laugh back in return echoing through the smoke and mist and coming back to his ears. What has been granted cannot be taken back, master… Duncan roared in terror as well. In the blink of an eye, the attic was gone and now all he could see was purple smoke all around him. He could still feel the wooden floor under his shoes but he couldn’t even see it. “Joey! Joey, are you alright? Where are you?! JOEY!!” he creamed for his friend feeling the anxiety skyrocketing through his veins. “JOE… AAAAHHHHHH!!” his sentence was cut short as he felt a rush of heat followed by pain of breaking bones crashing through his legs. Joey could feel his legs ballooned next, muscles exploding with brutal force far beyond anything from his youth.

The Genie hovered closer, smiling with dark amusement. “Begging already? How precious. This is only the beginning, Masters…” his voice echoing to both of them through the smoke.

The burning surged upward. Both men gasped and screamed as their chests expanded with sickening pops. Ribs widened, pectorals ballooning into thick, heavy slabs of muscle that stretched their skin painfully tight. “It’s breaking me apart!” Duncan howled. “Please… make it stop!”

Coarse dark hair erupted in their armpits as fresh sweat glands activated, flooding the attic with a thick, pungent masculine musk, heavy testosterone and raw male sweat. A dense treasure trail raced up from their groins, spreading across their newly carved abs and fanning over their swollen pecs.

Joey whimpered brokenly, “I can’t… I can’t breathe… please…” as he was feeling his overheating body starting to shut down and his vision blurring darkly because of his restarting nervous system and rearranging organs.

Duncan was crying and screaming in pain as he could feel his limbs starting to spasm on their own, muscles activating by forced electric signal sent by his brain drowning in a cocktail of hormones. He could feel his heart beat in each of his cells and could hear the sound of his pumping heart. Duncan was starting to dissociate when he heard the genie snap his fingers one more time. Out of nowhere, he felt his senses coming back to him as he heard the genie talk directly in his brain. “We don’t want you to miss the best part of the show, do we?” Out of nowhere, Duncan felt blood coursing through his body in one central position as he could feel his cock straining his jeans and getting trapped against his muscled and hairy thighs.  

His cock surged forward with vicious intensity, thickening and lengthening into a massive uncut cock and with one more spasm from his un-controlling body and pumping heart, his cock contracted and torn apart his fly as he felt it slap hard against his hard rock forming abs. in the blink of an eye, it started to feel active and soon he could feel precum pumping out of his urethra and slushing all around his hairy abs.

Joey could feel changes happening to him as well. He was screaming in pain and fear as he could feel his cock straining against what was left of his Calvin Klein underwear. He could feel his heart beat in his hardening cock head as he could feel his foreskin starting to tighten around it because of the pression caused by his blood system. He could feel his nuts pulling lower and lower as sperm started to be product in huge proportions. His cock head was starting to look downward because of its weight and now was permanently bent down and slightly on the left side because of his left ball which were bigger than the right one.

“Please…. Stop, thi… iis” Joey said as he could feel his throat starting to heat up shortly followed by his chin and whole face.  His features twisted in agony as his jaw sharpened, cheekbones rose, and his eyes tilted. “HHAAAAaaAaaAaaaAAaaa… UUUHHHHhhhhHHHhH “screamed Joey as his voice cracked and shattered mid-scream, shifting into a younger, melodic tone thick with a heavy Arabic accent. “MAkE iT stoP!!” Joey screamed one more time as his voice settled for a younger one.

Duncan’s own face hardened into something rugged and commanding, heavy stubble exploding across his jaw while a thick mustache appeared above his upper lip. “What is happening?!” he screamed as his voice dropped into a deep, authoritative baritone.

“You two already sound way more in character!” said the genie to himself as he could see the possibilities opening for both of his masters in front of his eyes, appearing and disappearing in the purple mist.

Joey was still crying in fear and pain, his knees still on the ground when he felt the heat coming back. “GOD NO, NOT AGAIN… PLEASE!!” the heat continued to climb and hike all around his tightened skin, leaving behind a rich golden-bronze hue, turning his skin into smooth coffee-toned perfection while Duncan’s deepened into a reddish sun-bronzed, powerful athletic glow. Joey was crying as he could see his transformed and tanned hands in front of him, no sound coming out of his mouth because even the sound of his voice was terrifying to him now. Creeping behind him, he heard the low baritone voice of the genie once again and felt chills running up his elongated spine. “Something is missing… I don’t see your character fully… But what is it…” the genie continued as Joey turned around trying to face him and thinking that maybe if he did, he would be able to beg him face to face to turn him back but when he did, he saw nothing except the purple void. “Found it!” he heard once again coming in front of him. Joey’s eyes opened wide as he saw the genie materialized in front of him and with the flick of his wrists, he felt his torn clothes disintegrate into glitter that swirled in the mist.

Joey was hoping to see the kind face he saw when the genie first appeared to them but all he saw was the manly face wearing a vicious smile. The genie opened his hands and Joey could feel pressure building in his dick. “What are you doing?” He asked shaking in fear of what was about to happen. “Please tell me, what are you do… AAAAHHHHHHH” The genie reached down and roughly seized Joey’s foreskin still covering the head of his enlarged new cock. Joey’s eyes widened in pure panic.

“No! No no no… IT’S GONNA BREAK, STOOOOO!!!” he screamed.

Duncan stared in horror and fear as he could hear the deep accented voice of someone echoing back to him, slightly muted by the mist hugging his modified body. He could feel his body continuing to spasm on its own without him having any control on it. He could feel his dick exhaling drops of precum with every heart beat, smashed against his hairy abs and leaking along his muscled thighs. The Genie turned his back to Joey and smiled as he saw Duncan was still lost in the haze of his hormones and sensations while continuing to tear on Joey’s foreskin. “I’m begging you… Please… Stop teari…”

SCRATCH With one flick of his wrist, the genie torn out the foreskin as it detached in a snapping motion, releasing Joey’s cock that flopped back down against his legs, pointing downwards. His cock head now fully uncovered and extremely sensitive as he could feel the particles of purple dust touching his extremely sensitive skin. Joey was crying in fear as he realized the pain was completely gone.in fact, in a couple of second, all sensations were gone. It felt like his nerves had been numbed by years of frictions and movements against his now hardened cock head. He looked down and realize a neatly crafted scar was circling the base of his cock head. He tilted his head back up to the genie as he watched the genie looking with a smile at the palm of his hand. “Why have you done that… What have you done to me…” Joey continued to ask in a febrile voice. The genie didn’t even look at him. He just continued to smile as he grabbed back his thick veiny cock in the palm of his left hand.

The Genie held the twitching piece of foreskin in his palm, exhaled a stream of purple smoke over it. The piece of foreskin started to levitate and rotate faster and faster in the palm of the genie. Joey could start to feel like his cock head was getting jerked off even though no one was touching it. The faster the foreskin went, the more he felt he was on the edge of cumming. Joey tilted his head back up with almost out of breath as he could feel the orgasm rushing to him and his mouth barely open to let his breathing flow out. The genie was looking at him and with a quick movement, he closes his hand on the foreskin. Joey could feel pressure building in his groin as it felt like he was getting jerked off faster and faster. Then as he was about to cum, his eyes starting to revolve inside his skull, the genie opened his hand again and all the sensations were gone, leaving Joey out of breath on the edge of orgasm. In the palm of his hand, the foreskin was gone, reformed as a shiny golden loop earing with a blue sapphire on it. Joey didn’t understand any of what happened, his brain still trying to function properly as it still was lacking oxygen from the forced edging session. “What was that… what have you… done… Where is it…” Joey asked out of breath but the genie never answered, he just snapped his fingers and suddenly the golden foreskin earing disappeared in shimmer. Instantly, Joey felt a pressure building on his left lobe as he could feel it heating up with a pinching sensation. joey was left flabbergasted, not understanding any of what just happened and what happened to his foreskin. He tried to look around, maybe catching his reflection in a shiny surface or something, but he didn’t see any of it. All he could feel was the cold wind on his numb cock head and the sensation of something dangling from his ear.

The Genie laughed softly, stroking his own massive erection. “I knew something was missing, master… now you look exactly like you should have, ready for your next big adventure.” The genie took a step back and snapped his fingers one more time. Both Duncan and Joey felt like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders and like they could breathe again for the first time since the mist invaded their lungs.

As the two men collapsed, gasping and twitching in their new bodies, their old clothes finished to dissolve away. They stood there naked and, on the ground, as they could see the mist starting to fall to the ground and with them changing the dusty attic into a new room. Something with white industrial lights handing from the rooves. Then tiles started to appear on the walls soon followed by the ancient wooden cabinets turned into metallic lockers covered with stickers and grim. as the mist finally reach their heads, new clothes started to shimmer into existence around their transformed bodies. A tight pair of black sport shorts for Duncan and a fitted V collar T-shirt with a black baseball hat. Then a pair of well used white trainers and high sport socks appeared on his bigger feet. On Joey, a white jockstrap appeared on his body, forcing his cock to look downwards again, now fully entrapped inside the cotton prison and almost nudging against his own ass hole. The pouch being extremely prominent. Then a pair of tight-fitting black soccer shoes appeared on his tanned musky feet as socks finished to materialized against his legs climbing up to his knees.

The Genie kept lazily stroking his enormous, throbbing cock, veins pulsing under his bronze fingers as he watched the two broken men on the floor. His smile widened with sadistic pleasure.

“Look at you both… already so pretty in your new skins.” He then grabbed Joey by his thick, dark hair and yanked his head forward. “Open up, stud. Time to taste your new reality.”

Joey tried to pull away, eyes wide with terror. “No! Please don’… I’m not… I won’t…!” But the Genie’s grip was iron. He slapped his heavy, leaking cock against Joey’s plump new lips, smearing sticky precum across them.

“That’s it… fight me. I love when masters start to realize I am the one holding the cards.” The Genie laughed, low and cruel, then forced the thick head past Joey’s resisting lips and deep into his mouth. Joey gagged violently, eyes watering as the massive shaft stretched his throat. The Genie held his head in place and began thrusting with slow, deliberate strokes, fucking his face with relish.

“Mmmph! Mmmghh!” Joey’s muffled screams vibrated around the Genie’s cock. Tears streamed down his bronzed cheeks as he choked and drooled.

The Genie groaned in pleasure and taunted him between thrusts. “Yes… just like that. Suck it, stud. This is what your exciting new life tastes like. Keep crying… I love how your throat squeezes when you panic.” He laughed again, deep and mocking, pushing even deeper until Joey’s nose pressed against his hairy musky shimmering pubes.

After several long, brutal minutes of face-fucking, the Genie’s balls tightened. “Here it comes, boy. Drink every drop like the good little whore you’ve always been.”

With a loud, satisfied roar, the Genie came hard. Thick, glowing ropes of purple-tinged cum flooded Joey’s mouth and throat. Joey thrashed, desperately trying to pull back, but the Genie held him firm while laughing in pure pleasure. “Swallow it all. That’s it… good boy.” Joey continued to resist, gasping for air as he could feel cum rushing directly in his stomach. A weird feeling invading his throat and mouth as it felt like his tongue was numbing a bit. After a couple of minutes frozen like that, the Genie slowly pull his still rock-hard cock free with a wet pop. Joey immediately tried to scream for help and gasping for air.

“Air, I need air…. Huuuuuuuuuu. I couldn’t breathe…” But the words that came out were completely different: “هواء، أحتاج إلى هواء... هووووو ...!” His eyes widened in pure panic. He clutched his throat, trying again. “What the fuck?! Why can’t I speak English?! WHAT THE FUCK!!” Only fluent, desperate Arabic poured out: “يا إلهي! لماذا لا أستطيع التحدث بالإنجليزية؟! يا إلهي!”.

No matter how hard he tried, English was completely gone. He kept repeating frantic Arabic pleas, voice cracking with rising hysteria.

“أرجوك… أعدوني! أنا لا أريد هذا!” (Please… change me back! I don’t want this!)

Duncan stared in the distance, his head still spinning and still feeling dizzy from the smoke leaving his older lungs, taking more time to regain his senses. “Joey? Are you ok? Where are you, where are we?! What happened to us...”

The Genie turned away from Joey’s sobbing of incomprehension. He took a look at Duncan and with a happy smile of work well done, he snapped his fingers.

Duncan suddenly gasped, clutching his head as memories began flashing violently before his eyes. Kelly smiling at him on their first date suddenly appeared clearly in front of his eyes, he felt like reliving this moment in the smallest detail but as his lips left her, he opened his eyes only to realize Kelly was now burning from his memories as in her place stood a very muscled Latino athlete looking at him with eyes full of admiration and hungriness. He couldn’t understand what happened or why that happened, suddenly he blinked and he was no longer on a bench in the park but instead in his living room with his computer on his laps, Kelly hugging him as they were planning their honeymoon, the house they wanted to buy, lazy Sunday mornings together… One by one they ignited and disintegrated. In their place, new memories flooded in with brutal clarity: the thrill of sneaking young athletes into hotel rooms during tournaments, the wet sound of tight asses stretching around his thick cock, the addictive taste of sweat and submission, the roar of stadium crowds mixed with moans in locker room showers.

“No… no, stop!” Duncan screamed, voice breaking.

“Kelly! Stop that please… KELLY!! I … I… Get out of my head! That’s not me… I’m not… I want to marry her… I love her… I… love her? Fuck… I love… her tight… No that’s not me, STOP IT!!! I love… his… ass? I LOVE FUCKING ASS!! NO Please… don’t…. do this…. Kelly… I love…” He fell to his knees as more of his old life was ripped away. The memory of proposing to Kelly burned to nothing and was replaced by the image of him balls-deep in a muscular exchange student after a late training session. Every time he tried to cling to who he was, another piece turned to ash. His personality was shifting, getting confidence, dominance, and an insatiable hunger for male bodies overwriting his old shy, settled nature.

“Please… I don’t want this… I’m Duncan, I’m not…” His resistance grew weaker as the new identity took root. Suddenly a new memory appeared in flashing color in front of his eyes, a new name appeared and engraved itself in his brain. Noah. He is Noah, he has always been and always will be. He is the coach, Noah. The traveler. The predator who lived for the next tight hole and the next victory.

The Genie watched with dark delight, lazily stroking himself again. “Welcome in your new life, master Duncan.”

The man who used to be Duncan, now fully Noah, stepped up as his manly hands caressed his hairy pecs, a dominant smile appearing on his cheeks as he took his first step into his new life, his cock rock hard and pressing against the front of his shorts, leaving nothing to imagination. He took another step and suddenly Joey heard the Snap echoing again. Suddenly, he felt his body starting to levitate from the wet musky tiled floor to the seat of a wooden bench that had seen thousands of athletic asses through the years. Joey tried to resist but his body was completely immobilizing by the purple magic controlling and positioning him, his legs then were positioned up, giving free access to his tight hole. Joey tried once again to scream for help but was still in incapacity to talk anything else then Arabic. He heard the genie laugh as he saw Duncan getting closer and closer to him, positioning himself between Joey’s forcibly spread legs.

His thick, veiny uncut cock throbbed angrily, already drooling precum onto the boy’s smooth, tight hole. Joey’s heart hammered in terror.

“Duncan, please don’t do this. We are friend, remember about Kelly. No don’t please, DON’T!!” he begged in fluent Arabic, voice shaking.

“أرجوك... هذا ليس أنت! أنا جوي! توقف!!!” (Please… this isn’t you! It's me, I’m Joey! Stop!).

Noah didn’t understand a word. He just grinned, spat on his cock, and pressed the fat, leaking head against Joey’s virgin entrance. With one brutal thrust, he forced half his massive length inside. Joey screamed, back arching off the bench as his hole was violently stretched open.

“AAAAAH! ألم! أرجوك توقف! إنه يؤلمني!” (It hurts! Please stop! It hurts so much!). Noah groaned in pleasure and kept pushing deeper, inch by thick inch, until his heavy balls rested against Joey’s ass. “Fuck… so goddamn tight. This Moroccan bitch was made for cock.”

Joey’s eyes rolled back as Noah started fucking him with long, powerful strokes, each one slamming harder than the last. The wet, obscene sound of skin slapping skin filled the locker room. Joey’s heavy circumcised cock bounced uselessly against his abs, leaking despite his horror.

Suddenly, Joey noticed movement above them. The Genie hovered near the ceiling, lazily stroking his own enormous cock and watching with cruel delight. Their eyes met. The Genie smirked, raised his hand, and snapped his fingers.

In that instant, the Genie’s form disappeared in shimmer. Then Joey saw from the corner of his eyes the air near the lockers next to the door starting to move and agitate. He then saw the genie’s silhouette appear and stated to melt and shrink, transforming into a tall, muscular young athlete with short black hair and a cocky grin. At the same moment, the locker room door swung open.

Captain Josh and four of his teammates walked in, already half-hard in their shorts thanks to the very intensive training and the overdose of testosterone and horniness running through their veins.

The newly-transformed Genie simply stepped forward and joined them, laughing with them all like he had always been a part of the group. No one else noticed anything strange and then even started to laugh back and talk like they truly know each other from years of practices and friendship.

“Coach! you already started without us?” Josh laughed loudly. “Look at Ahmed. Little slut can’t even wait.”

The players quickly stripped, tossing their clothes aside. Thick, hard cocks sprang free. Joey tried to plead with them, eyes wide with panic.

“أرجوكم، أتوسل إليكم، يجب أن تساعدوني. أنا لست أحمد، أنا جوي، لدي حبيبة وسأرزق بطفل قريبًا. أريد العودة إلى بيتي، ساعدوني، أرجوكم!!” (Please I’m begging you, you have to help me. I am not this Ahmed, I am Joey, I have a girlfriend and soon a baby boy. I want to go back home, Help me, please!!!).

The players just chuckled, not understanding a single word that came out of Joey’s mouth. One of them then took a step forward, his thick veiny cock in hand as he lazily jerked off. Joey opened tilted his head only to realize it was the genie now in the jock’s body. “أرجوك لا تفعل ذلك، لا أريد هذه الحياة، لم أتمنَّ ذلك... مممم ...” (Please don’t do that, I don’t want this life, I didn’t wish for that… mmMMMmmGGgMGgggGG) Joey couldn’t even finish his words as the genie grabbed Joey by the hair and shoved his thick cock straight into the boy’s pleading mouth, cutting off his words. “Shut the fuck up with that Arabic shit,” he laughed. “Good little cumdump doesn’t need to talk.”

Everyone roared with laughter as they surrounded him. “Let’s go guys, we have a tanned bitch to fuck!” Josh mocked while lining up his cock at Joey’s already-stuffed hole alongside Noah’s.

“Maybe you’ll start to pick some words up after taking so much American cream!”.

They descended on him without mercy. Noah and Josh double-penetrated his ass, stretching him brutally wide while two others took turns fucking his throat once the genie was done with him. Hands roamed over his sweat-slicked bronze body, slapping his ass, pinching his nipples, and constantly tugging on the golden earring. Every pull sent humiliating jolts of forced pleasure through his cock.

“Fucking perfect exchange student,” one player grunted as he hammered into Joey’s throat. “Came all the way from Morocco just to be our team bitch.”

“Bet his family would be so proud seeing him like this,” another laughed. “He truly lives his American dream!”

Joey could only sob and gag around the cocks in his mouth, tears streaming down his face. “مممغhhh— أرجوكم… أنا لست مثل هذا… أريد Cynthia… أريد طفلي…” (Please… I’m not like this… I want Cynthia… I want my baby…). None of them could understand him and they didn’t care. They just kept using him harder, rotating positions, filling every hole, painting his bronzed skin with sweat and spit.

After what felt like an eternity of relentless pounding, the Genie still wearing the jock identity saw that Joey was on the edge of losing himself, his cock played with like a joystick by the one currently fucking him. He felt like he was on the edge but never close enough so he could be forced to cum. The genie then grabbed the athlete that was hard fucking Joey by the shoulders and tapped his scapula as he asked for him to give him the space so he could finish inside the bitch. The athlete laughs and then took his cock out of Joey’s opened ass. “أرجوك... لا أستطيع فعل ذلك بعد الآن... أرجوك...” (Please… I can’t do …that, anymore… Please…). Once again, Joey was cut short as the genie got his mouth closer to his ear and murmured. “I hope you’ll enjoy your new life, Master!” Suddenly, he grabbed the earing between his calloused fingers and Joey felt like someone was directly playing with his cockhead and whole length. It felt like he was getting jerked off by the most delicate hand ever, it felt like he was getting sucked by the warmest mouth. His breath started to path faster and faster as he we slowly losing his sight, invaded by a pure feeling of pleasure. In front of his blurring vision, the genie smiled as he started to fuck him faster and faster, enjoying the view of Joey slowly losing his grip on reality and falling into dissociation. With one more thrust of his cock deep against Joey’s prostate and a pinch of the hearing, the genie came hard and deep inside Joey’s welcoming hole, and as he did, Joey felt the orgasm finally rushing past the point of no return as he could feel his length starting to contract and in an instant, starting to release the only trace of his Britannic DNA.

A devastating orgasm ripped through him. His circumcised cock exploded hands-free, shooting thick ropes of cum across his own chest and abs while every muscle in his body spasmed around the cocks buried inside him.

In that exact moment, his mind shattered and reformed.

Memories burned away in purple fire: the old house at Blackthorn Lake… the summers with Duncan… proposing to Cynthia… the ultrasound pictures of their unborn baby boy… nights at the bar dreaming of travel… all of it turned to ash. New memories flooded in to replace them, a sun-drenched childhood in Morocco, arriving in Huston at 21 as an exchange student, struggling with English, quickly discovering he was gay and addicted to getting fucked and used like the sextoy he truly was. The endless locker room sessions, the hotel rooms during away games, the thrill of being passed around by the team. He was Ahmed now. A 21-year-old power bottom who lived for cock, especially Coach Noah’s and his teammates’. English was hard for him, but his body spoke fluently.

When the orgasm finally faded, Ahmed blinked slowly, a slutty, satisfied grin spreading across his cum-covered face.

“Coach Noah…” he moaned in heavily accented English; voice hoarse but eager. “المزيد... مارس الجنس معي بقوة أكبر، من فضلك...”.

The players laughed and kept going, knowing their favorite cumdump was ready for another round.

Coach Noah was waiting behind them, his arms crossed as he felt his cock jump in anticipation knowing he would require a private session with Ahmed later on in his office. Only Ahmed and him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the months that followed, Noah and Ahmed lived the exciting life full of travel and adventure they had wished for so desperately in that dusty attic.

They flew from city to city, country to country, following the demanding schedule of international university tournaments. New hotels every week. New locker rooms. New opponents, and new teammates, eager to celebrate victories deep into the night.

Noah’s powerful 6’3” body, thick with muscle and commanding presence, was everything Duncan had once dreamed of and more. He thrived as the dominant, respected coach who lived for the game… and for bending young athletes over whenever the mood struck him.

Ahmed, the 21-year-old Moroccan exchange student, had become the star attacking midfielder everyone wanted. He had gotten his degree in the form of a sports scholarship and was well on his way to making something of himself and his life, at least on the pitch and in the bedroom. His bronzed, athletic body and eager, talented hole made him the team’s favorite power bottom. He barely spoke English, but he didn’t need to. His body communicated perfectly.

Every night after training or matches, Ahmed found himself exactly where he now belonged: legs spread wide, moaning sluttily in Arabic and broken English as Coach Noah and the boys took turns wrecking him. The golden earring made from his former foreskin remained his most sensitive spot, one playful tug and he would cum hands-free, shaking and begging for more like the perfect cumdump he had become.

All that remained were sun-soaked memories of Morocco, the thrill of arriving in Huston, and the addictive rush of being passed around by his coach and teammates. He was happier than he had ever been, a gay, cock-hungry 21-year-old who lived for the next load and the next victory.

The wishes had been granted and they would finally live the lives they craved for.

They no longer remembered Cynthia and Kelly. They no longer remembered the baby and their bored lives. They no longer remembered Duncan, Joey, the attic, or the terrified man they used to be.

High above, safely tucked away in the ornate brass lamp that now rested on Coach Noah’s office desk, the Genie leaned back in his lamp with a contented sigh. Once known as Uncle Richard many decades ago, he had learned this lesson the hard way himself after wishing for a life full of magical adventures and being able to help people while having a long and joyful life full of pleasure and happy moments. Now he made sure others learned it too, slowly, thoroughly, and without mercy, one wish at the time.

Some dreams are better to be left in the past.

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Hello everyone!!

I hope you’re having an amazing day! This is the story you guys voted for, with a little twist from my side. I had a blast writing it, and I think this one might be one of my all-time favorites to this day.

Thank you so much to everybody who voted in the poll, and thank you so much to @bremenmask for sending me this ask. I really appreciated it, and I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

This story officially marks my first step into my thirties, and I hope they’ll be just as good as the previous decade. I want to thank all the friends I’ve made along this journey, and I can’t wait to meet new ones.

To everybody who has sent me kind messages, please know that even if I don’t reply to all of you, I read everything, and I love interacting with you as much as possible. So please continue to send me messages if you want to talk about ideas or simply if you feel lonely :)

A huge thank you as well to @mystrangetfs for his very useful help in brainstorming and putting this story together, especially for helping me create and find the pictures.

I can’t wait to hear your feedback, and I hope you’ll appreciate this story as much as I do.

Here’s to our 30s and to the rest of our lives.

Loop 1

Disaster.

Danni tripped down the stairs in heels she didn't know how to walk in. Face-planted into her own birthday cake. Frosting in her hair, icing on her brand-new tits. The party guests—the hot party guests—stared in horror.

She manspread in her birthday dress, flashing her Spanx to the caterers. She called a Birkin bag "nice" and her friend Brittnee looked at her like she'd grown a second head.

"Nice?" Brittnee's face said it all.

Danni went to bed confused, frustrated, and wet. Her body was so sensitive. Every brush of silk against her nipples sent shocks through her. She'd caught herself checking out the pool boy's ass and felt sick.

Then she woke up.

Same silk sheets. Same morning. Same maid with champagne.

Again?

Loop 5

Danni had learned to walk in heels. Put one foot in front of the other, sway the hips, own it. She'd learned her friends—Brittnee, Kaycee, Ashlee—were bitches. Wonderful bitches. And they expected her to be one too.

She'd learned her nipples showed through silk and that was the point.

She'd also learned the pool boy's name was Brad. And that he changed in the cabana around noon. And that he had a cock like a fucking prize.

On loop five, Danni "accidentally" walked in on him. Then not so accidentally dropped to her knees.

"Miss Danni, I—" Brad started.

"Shut up," she said, and took him in her mouth.

Oh God. The taste. The weight on her tongue. The way he swelled and throbbed as she sucked. Her old self would've been disgusted. Her new self was dripping.

She pulled off with a pop. "Fuck me."

Brad didn't need telling twice. He bent her over the cabana lounger and pushed inside her—stretching her open, filling her up, ruining her for anyone else.

"Ooooh... fuck yes—" Danni grabbed the cushion, nails digging in, as Brad's thick cock hit something deep inside her that made her see stars. "Harder—harder—"

She came three times. Three. In twenty minutes. Her old body had been lucky to manage one every few months.

After, lying with Brad's cum leaking out of her, Danni felt something. Not guilt.

Power.

She'd made him hard. Made him beg. With just a look and a pout.

Loop 15

Danni discovered the joy of cruelty.

There was a girl at her party—Megan. Chubby. Bad skin. Cheap dress. A hanger-on who'd somehow scored an invite. Danni's old self would've felt sorry for her.

But watching Kaycee and Ashlee rip into Megan's outfit, watching the girl's face crumple—Danni felt something twist inside her. Hot. Wet. Delicious.

"Nice dress," Danni heard herself say, popping her gum. "Did you get it at... whatever store poor people go to?"

Where did that come from?

Megan ran off crying. And Danni's pussy throbbed.

She followed Megan into the bathroom. Found her sobbing at the mirror.

"Why are you being so mean?" Megan wailed.

Danni leaned in, lips brushing Megan's ear. "Because I can, sweetie."

She went home and masturbated four times that night.

Loop 30

Danni had started planning her cruelty.

Megan wasn't enough. Too easy—too pathetic to really satisfy. So Danni moved on to bigger game.

Brittnee's boyfriend, Chase, had a thing for blonde hair and big tits. Danni had noticed it on loop twelve—the way his eyes lingered on her cleavage, the way he'd find excuses to be near her. Brittnee had noticed too. She was pissed.

On loop thirty, Danni did something about it.

She cornered Chase in Brittnee's bedroom during her own birthday party. Pushed him against the wall. Pressed her body against his.

"You've been staring at my tits all night, Chase," she whispered, rubbing her palm over his growing bulge. "Don't you want to touch them?"

"Danni, Brittnee's right downstairs—"

"So?" She pulled her top down, freeing her tits. They were perfect—round, heavy, pink nipples already hard. "She doesn't have to know."

Chase broke. He grabbed her tits like a starving man, sucking and biting her nipples while Danni moaned and stroked his cock through his jeans.

She rode him on Brittnee's bed. Slowly at first, then faster, grinding her clit against him, watching his face twist with pleasure she was giving him. His hands gripped her perfect ass as she bounced on his cock.

"Tell me I'm better than Brittnee," she demanded.

"Fuck—you're so much better—"

"Louder."

"YOU'RE BETTER THAN BRITTNEE—"

The door opened.

"Danni?! What the—CHASE?!"

Brittnee stood in the doorway, mascara already running. Danni just looked over her shoulder, Chase's cock still buried inside her, and smirked.

"He wanted a real woman, Britt. Sorry not sorry."

Brittnee fled sobbing. Chase kept fucking her.

Danni came so hard she saw God.

Loop 50

Something was happening to Dan.

Not physically—Danni's body was the same perfect specimen it had always been. But mentally... the old Dan was fading.

She couldn't remember his last name anymore. Something with an M? Miller? Mitchell? Gone. She couldn't remember what forty felt like. The back pain, the hair loss—like stories someone had told her once.

What she could remember, vividly, was every way to make a man hard. Every way to destroy a girl's self-esteem. Every position that made her cum the hardest.

She'd fucked Brad. Marco the caterer. Tyler, her "ex" who always showed up hoping to win her back. On loop forty-four, all three at once—Brad in her pussy, Marco in her ass, Tyler in her mouth. She'd cum until she couldn't walk.

She'd learned to deepthroat. To ride. To take it up the ass and beg for more.

She'd learned she loved it.

Lexi appeared that night, floating above the bed as Danni lay satisfied, three loads of cum dripping out of her.

"Having fun, bestie?" Lexi grinned.

Danni—sprawled across the sheets, naked, glowing—just smiled. "The best."

"You're, like, so different from that sad old man who made the wish." Lexi popped her gum. "It's, like, totally an improvement."

Danni frowned. "What sad old man?"

Lexi's smile widened. "Nothing, sweetie. Nothing."

Loop 75

Dan was gone.

Not hidden. Not suppressed. Gone. Like a dream you can't quite remember after waking. There was only Danni now—rich, hot, spoiled, perfect.

Her birthday was the best day of the year—every year—and she knew exactly how to make it perfect.

Step one: Wake up in silk. Let the maid bring champagne, then send it back. "This is Moët, Maria. I told you I only drink Dom Pérignon on my birthday." Watch Maria scramble. Power.

Step two: The salon. Get everything done—hair, nails, the works. Let the stylists fawn over her. She was their best client. She tipped well but never let them forget who was in charge.

Step three: Shopping. Her parents' black card was hers. Buy everything. The looks on the other girls' faces when she walked out with bags they couldn't afford—chef's kiss.

Step four: The party. Make Megan cry. Make Brittnee jealous. Fuck whoever she wanted—sometimes two somebodies. Destroy at least one relationship just for fun.

Step five: End the night in her huge bed, exhausted and satisfied, already excited to do it again.

She didn't question it anymore. She didn't want to question it.

Loop 100

Danni woke up on her hundredth birthday and everything clicked.

She stretched—arms above her head, back arching, tits pushing up perfectly. Every cell in her body hummed with power and beauty and pure, unfiltered bitch energy.

Maria came in with champagne. Dom Pérignon this time—Maria had learned.

"Happy birthday, Miss Danni!"

Danni took the glass without looking at her. "Mmhm. The salon team better be here in forty-five minutes. And tell them I want the full treatment—my hair needs to be perfect tonight."

She sipped her champagne.

Pink smoke curled in the corner. Lexi materialized, floating cross-legged, grinning.

"Happy 100th birthday, bestie! 💖"

Danni didn't flinch. "Hey, Lexi."

"O-M-G, you're, like, so different now?" Lexi circled her, examining. "Remember when you were, like, 'waah, you turned me into a girl'? And now look at you!"

Danni smirked. "I look hot."

"You look perfect." Lexi landed on the bed, tucking her legs under her. "So. I have, like, news?"

"News?"

"You've, like, graduated? You've mastered being a 21-year-old mean girl? So I'm, like, upgrading your gift?" Lexi snapped her fingers. "Instead of living the same day forever... you get to live the same year forever! 🎉"

Danni's eyes widened. "A whole year?"

"A whole year of birthdays and shopping and fucking and ruining!" Lexi clapped her hands. "You can, like, really destroy people now! Not just one day—seasons of destruction!"

Danni felt a pulse of pure pleasure between her legs. A whole year. A whole year of power.

She slid her hand under the sheets and touched herself—fingers sliding through her slick folds, circling her clit—thinking about all the lives she was going to destroy. All the boys she was going to ride. All the girls she was going to break.

"Mmmmmh... fuck yes..."

Lexi watched, delighted. "You're, like, my greatest creation, Danni. I'm so proud of you."

Danni laughed—high, cruel, delighted—and came on her own fingers.

She brought them to her lips and sucked them clean.

This is going to be the best year ever.

She was right.

The next screen was more complicated than the first two times you had used the app. You filled out each option, confirming the recommended option to start the possession when you woke up and end it once you had fallen asleep. Then, you hit the 'Submit Changes to Queue' button. A warning notification popped up, as it had the last two times you had used the Chronivac.

"The Chronivac is still in beta and unexpected results may occur. If you encounter any issues during use, contact Pérez Alternative Technology support desk for assistance. Would you like to continue?"

That notification had given you pause the first time you saw it, but now, you just tapped the "Yes" option as soon as it appeared. After, what was the worst that could happen?

*****

You began to come to consciousness, feeling strangely warm. You became aware of the sensation of flesh on flesh contact, surrounding your whole body. You felt a pressure in your core as a wave passed through your body. You felt fabric shifting around in front of you as the world shuddered. Something was very wrong. It was dark, but faint light diffused through something above you. That fabric. Was it a blanket?

Suddenly, something large moved beside you, it's limbs rubbing up against your side. Claws scrapped at your legs, though it didn't hurt. It seemed to only be scratching at you. You heard a deep and loud groan come from far behind you, causing you to jump. Or try to jump. It felt more like bolting up in slow motion. You tried to get up, to flee from whatever was next to you or the monster behind, but you found you were stuck in place. Suddenly, you found another emotion course through you, mixing with and overpowering the fear. Extreme and primal arousal.

*****

Jonah Hayes started to wake up. He was alone in bed again. It had been months since he'd last had a girlfriend, and he wasn't exactly putting himself out there to get laid like he did before he started dating his ex-wife. As he scratched his crotch and yawned, his dick flared to life with an erection unlike anything he'd felt in years. He chuckled a bit at his dick straining in his boxers. He didn't have a habit of masturbating in the morning, but it was a Saturday, so why the hell not? He slipped off the covers and underwear, and wrapped his hand around his cock.

****

There was a rush of movement as the fabric covering you was quickly removed. Whatever you were stuck fast to thrashed around before settling down, and you saw that there was much more light now. You were in a room, a pretty large room, though distances seemed a bit strange. Two large, fuzzy pillars raised up on either side of you. You were overwhelmed by how full you suddenly felt as something large and warm wrapped around your entire body. As you turned back to look at what grabbed you, you saw an enormous, yet familiar face smiling at you across a massive hairy chest and a small hill of a belly. It was the face of Jonah Hayes. As his large hand began to squeeze and rub you up and down, you realized what was happening. You were the cock of the hot neighbor you grew up next to.

He began to moan as you spiralled. What the fuck was going on? Oh, fuck, that felt so good! Did you pick the wrong option on that app? God, he was hot! Was this a bug with the app? Holy fuck!

****

Jonah liked to jerk off every once and a while, but something about this morning felt different. It was intense, like his internal wiring got a jumpstart. He tried to think about hot women, those he'd hooked up with, actresses he liked, and one lady in a porno he'd watched a while ago. None of it really felt right, despite the pleasure he was getting from working his hog. He kept thinking back to work, mostly his coworker and friend Marty. How thick he was, his nice beard and smile, his crass yet cheerful disposition. His round, hairy ass.

Jonah shook his head. Where'd that thought come from? He'd never thought about another man like that. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, opened a private tab, and searched up a video he often came back to. As it started, he kept lingering on the man in the video, not the woman he'd jerked off to many times. The man was hairy and thick, though not exactly muscular. The kind of man obviously cast to shift focus to the woman, though Jonah couldn't help but wonder what that man would look like on Jonah's bed, under him.

At that thought, Jonah stopped touching his penis. What was going through his brain? He wasn't gay! He didn't want to fuck other dudes! He got up out of bed, boner still raging, and went to take a cold shower.

****

You were so fucking close! Jonah stopped touching you just as you felt that you were going to explode. You had been seeing flashes of thought, images of thick hairy men. Thoughts of someone you seemed to know, or maybe Jonah seemed to know?

As you were lifted up, seeing the path to the restroom at half height, you were still so needy. Despite everything being so wrong, it had felt so good when the man you were attached to was touching you all over your cock body. 'Keep going!' you tried to yell. Though no sound left your metaphorical mouth, you felt yourself pulse as your slowly drooping body straightened back up again. As the cold water of the shower began pouring onto you, you tried to think about the other man you saw flashes of moments ago. That nice hairy belly that showed when he reached up to grab something. The thought of what kissing that furry mustache might feel like.

****

Jonah's erection wasn't going down in the cold shower. He started to worry that he might need to go to the hospital when the thought of his coworker Marty flooded back into his brain. God, he just wanted to grab hold of his friend and stick his cock deep into those round cheeks of his! Jonah couldn't help himself as he turned the water warmer and pumped his dick. He moaned as he thought of some of the other hairy men he knew, like his highschool coach and the plumber that visited last week. Before long, he got on one knee as he was beginning to shake in the shower. He felt muscles spasm as an intesnse orgasm rocked his world.

****

You were screaming in pleasure as the built up pressure exploded out of you. You could taste the torrent of salty cum as Jonah fondled your lower half. Satisfaction welled up in you as you felt yourself slowly fall into a bit of a torpor. You deflated a bit, though you still maintained a respectable size as you flopped around while Jonah got back on his feet and finished his shower. As the man who owned the dick you were inhabitanting, stopped the water and  started to get ready for the day, he looked down at you with an amused smile.

"Damn, buddy! What was all that about?" He said down to you, towel over his shoulders as you got a mouthwatering view of his hairy torso.

****

Later that day, Jonah downloaded a gay hookup app. He knew they existed, but he'd never thought to look into it until the second time he came that morning. You felt yourself perk up as Jonah discovered Marty's picture on the app's grid of nearby men. He paused before your prodding led him to open up the chat feature. He typed out a quick message to his friend.

"Hey Marty, it's Jonah. You're not gonna believe this."

****

Sunday night, you were thrust in and out of a chubby closeted bisexual road worker named Marty. Jonah and Marty were both grunting and moaning as the bearish work buddies went from fucking to making love. As you came into Marty's hairy ass, Jonah collapsed onto his shorter friend's fuzzy belly. Marty had taken you like a champ, and smiled as he looked down at the friend he'd always wanted to sleep with, but that he was sure was 100% straight.

"Hey, Jonah! What are we gonna tell the boys at work?" Marty said, "Think they'll be jealous both of us got laid this weekend?"

****

Months went by, and you stayed Jonah's cock. You found yourself increasingly pleased to be used by the hot hairy man who owned you as more and more of your human mind faded. Your conscienceness just became a horny presence in Jonah's body as you subtly encouraged him to suck and fuck men in all shades of beefy, hairy, fat, and kinky. You especially liked when Marty, who Jonah started dating after a couple months fooling around, put you in his mouth and tickled you with his beard. You felt safe and supported as you rode around in Jonah's underwear as he worked hot, sweaty days.

The only time you felt somewhat human was when Jonah dreamed. You never slept yourself, though your mind wasn't all that active unless Jonah was also horny. You would often find yourself as various men in Jonah's dreams, either getting fucked by him or fucking other hairy men in the background. You'd even fucked Jonah a couple times in his dreams, though it was clear the man preferred to top. Other than those rare moments of being something more, you soon forgot you were anything other than Jonah's cock.

****

"Oh shit! Mr. Enzo, I just found another beta user who has been missing for months."

"God damnit, I knew it was too soon! I should have closed the beta sooner. Can we get them back, Jamie?"

"I don't know. Reality is so unstable around them. That's why it took so long for me to notice they were gone. Luckily, they don't seem to be in any distress, though the user's brainwaves seem much weaker than usual."

"Alright, see what you can do, you smart, handsome boy! I have a meeting I need to get to, but I'll try to help when I get back. Love you, boy. Be back soon!"