UnabashedTF

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.

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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.

"Here you are bro, all the money I owe and the next 3 months worth of rent paid up in advance. Hope you don't mind me paying now, you know how I can be with money" Trent smiled and then rubbed the back of his head anxiously

Richard was shocked as he took the money, there was well over 4,000 in the stack, how had he made so much money? "Wait Trent, you made all this? I thought you only started this new job like two weeks ago?"

"haha yeah, it pays really well!" Trent said proudly

"You will have to get me a job there! This is more than I make in two months and you made it in two weeks!" Richard said enviously.

Trent put his hands on his hips "I don't think you'd like it bro, I think you're too smart for what I do, it doesn't take a lot of brainpower!" Trent laughed "Oh crap is that the time bro? I need to get to work." Trent then turned away and grabbed a duffel bag by the door.

"Are you really not going to tell me where you work?" Richard yelled after Trent while standing up to look at his leaving roommate and only a received a dumb chuckle in response. Richard then looked back down at the cash on the table and deeply jealous he made a wish. "Damn I wish I worked with Trent, bet I could earn even more money than him." Richard scoffed, his tone thick with arrogance.

Richard was about to go back to sitting and drinking his beer when suddenly his body felt hot and he was filled with a burst of almost euphoric energy.

Richard felt strange, like he could run a marathon or lift a car! His t-shirt and shorts suddenly then started to feel tight and as he looked down he could have sworn his body looked bigger, that his arms looked more toned and that his stomach looked flat.

Richard then started to panic as the more he looked the more his body did seem to be growing bigger, stunned Richard watched as pectorals started to swell from his chest, his little belly faded away and the beginnings of a six pack started to appear. His biceps grew rounder and a thick veins started to snake down his arms. His legs thickened with muscles as his thighs started to touch and definition started to appear all over them. His shorts were rapidly shrinking as his size increased and soon Richard heard the straining and tearing of thread. Richard would have thought he looked great if the growth wasn't so sudden and terrifying and unstoppable.

Richard groaned as his muscles and body continued to swell and grow. His pectorals were now rounder and more prominent, while his six pack looked like it has been chiseled into stone. His legs almost seemed to double in size changing his stance to accomodate the massive amount of muscle that continued to grow. Richard looked down frightened at his arms as his biceps became cannonballs and with his triceps quickly following his arms would now never comfortable sit be his sides ever again. Richard winced as his shirt ripped along his back as he grew in height and width becoming a monster of muscle on par with a bodybuilder. Until finally his shirt could not hold on any longer and the tattered remains fell away, while his shorts were almost wedgied up his new musclar ass cheeks, the tight fabric threatening to cut off his circulation.

Richard stood stunned as he looked at his new big hands and the massive muscles that covered every inch of his body, he had to weigh at least 300 pounds of pure muscle. His torso looked like it had been sculpted by the gods, his thighs and calves looked bigger than any human he had ever seen and his arms felt like they could punch through metal. Richard had no idea why his body had suddenly erupted with muscle, did he need to call for an ambulance? But before Richard could think of doing anything else, a searing pain then ran down his left arm, like a million tiny pin pricks running backwards and forwards over it all. Richard grabbed at his arm to try and find the source of his pain but couldn't see what it was but as he looked closer he could have sworn he saw something appearing on his skin, was that a rainbow? Richard was so utterfly confused and terrified that he froze, he watched in horror as bright, gay, rainbow tattoos appeared all the way down his arm. Richard at first tried to rub them away like they were fake but he soon found the ink was deep and permanently part of his skin and it seemed that wasn't the only addition to his new jacked body. With a wince Richard felt pain in both of his ears as he quickly reached up to find two diamond stud earrings. This was followed by a painful plucking sensation in his eyebrows and burning of his scalp, turning to the mirror he now saw his new thin, styled eyebrows and bleach blond hair. Richard then let out a scared whimper as his skin darkened from his face all the way to his toes giving a deep rich tan. He now looked like a completely different person, like some flamboyant, gym obsessed fairy!

Richard then bcame even more scared as the familiar, horrifying heat of transformation returned but this time it wasn't in his whole body, it was only in his chest, it was only his pecs.

Richard grabbed at them as they started to grow and push outwards, he tried to push them back in but this made them only expand faster and further. The two mounds of muscles soon became moutains, a massive shelf that blocked Richards view of the floor and his feet. The muscles now took up most of his torso and look comically huge!

When they finally stopped growing Richard couldn't believe the size of his pectorals, they were bigger than most women's tits! Why was this happening to him!?

Richard knew he needed help, he needed to find a doctor or a scientist anyone to explain and reverse his sudden growth but as he turned to the door the heat returned and again it remained in one place. Richard felt like crying as he felt the burning heat warming from his new muscular, giant butt.

Richard felt at his butt cheeks, they were already ginormous there was no way they could get any bigger, but Richard was soon proved wrong as each cheek began to bloat and inflate.

Richard felt tears pricking at his eyes as he felt his ass cheeks balloon with muscle and fat. Each cheek grew outwards and kept its perfect peachy shape. Richard winced in pain as his shorts were driven further into his ass crack the larger his butt became, crushing his cock and balls in the front.

When the heat finally left his butt, Richard was left with a mammoth sized booty, one that would become rock hard when flexed but when relaxed would wobble and jiggle endless, drawing all eyes towards it.

Richard put his hand on his head in distress as he desparately tried to work out what was happening and why it was happening, he couldn't leave the apartment like this! He looked ridiculous, his giant pecs and ass made him look like some exaggerated gay cartoon character! Richard needed to find his phone he needed to call for help but before he could his clothes begun to shimmer and change.

It started with his feet when he felt himself raise up from the ground a couple of inches and as he looked down he saw a pair of large, bright white sneakers had appeared, along with his socks changing from black to white and inching up past his ankles. Then his shorts, they remained tight and form fitting, leaving nothing to the imagination but turned from black to bright orange, making sure to grab everyone's attention so no one could ignore his humungous bouncing booty. Then to finish his new look a white crop top appeared just above his chest, leaving his new massive muscle tits to hang out the bottom.

Some text was written across the crop top along with what looked like an owl but before Richard could read it the world around him seemed to blur as his surroundings started to change and came back into focus in a new location. There was music, the smell of food, people, tables, drinks, Richard then realised he was holding a tray of burgers and fries and two bearded muscular men sat in front of him, smiling, waiting.

"Hello? Earth to Dicky! Is that our food?"

"Oh you are such a dumb blonde Dicky! Just put it down already"

Richard shook his head as they called him Dicky and then out of his mouth came words that he didn't consent to, words he didn't want to say. "Sorry babe's I can be such a ditz!" Richard's voice was high pitched and slutty as he placed down their food while giving them a big dumb smile.

Before he walked away Dicky stuck out his massive rear, where the two men happily stuffed in their dollars bills and gave his big ass a spank. "Thank you suga, y'all need anything else you just holla" Dicky said in a perky, bubbling, charming way before mincing away.

Richard then felt himself clawing for control, driving Dicky down just so he could be back in the driving seat. What the hell was happening! Richard managed to stop himself in the middle of the restaurant, he looked at the wall 'Himbo Hooters', he looked at his uniform and the other men serving food and drinks, it was then he spotted someone familiar and Richard practically ran to them across the room.

"Trent!!"

Richard raced over to Trent who greeted him with a smile.

"Oh hey Dicky, I didn't know you were doing a double shift today! But you'd be silly not too, with that ass and those big ole titties you always rake in the most cash!" Trent said while giving Richard nipples a little tweak. It was at that moment that Richard realised why this had all happened, why he was a gay man's wet dream, why he was dressed in this uniform and why Trent was in front of him. He wished to work here and not only that but to earn more that Trent and now he would as this big slutty muscle freak with a giant ass and big juicy muscle tits.

"Aww Dicky why'd you look so glum? I know what will cheer you up." Trent then turned around a slapped a big red button, the restaurant's lights lowered, disco lights started flashing and a bassline thumped loudly across the restaurant. "Dance break!" Trent shouted and all the waiters began to dance and gyrate. Richard knew it was wrong, that he didn't want this, that he didn't want to be paraded like some piece of meat to be squeezed and leered at by men, but that's not what Dicky wanted. Richard screamed as he felt his body begin to dance without his consent, his mind sinking into a swamp as Dicky took control and started dancing and shaking his fat ass and titties much to all the cheers of the many horny men in the restaurant.

Alan turned and sneered at Mac who instead grinned with delight. Of course he would be happy, he'd have a nerd to do all the work thought Alan before turning back to his professor and coming close enough to whisper.

"Please sir, is that really necessary? I don't have time to babysit some odorous gorilla."

The professor just looked down at Alan with a small amount shock and frustration "Yes. It will be good for both of you." the professor said sternly and turned and left leaving Alan alone with Mac once again. "Odorous gorilla huh?" Mac said almost amused but with an undercurrent of anger. "I'll show you odorous"

Mac then proceed to grin like an idiot and bend over pushing his enormous muscular bubble butt directly towards Alan, the threading of his shorts ached as the massive muscle stretched it out to his limits. Alan had no time to react as Mac grunted and unleashed a booming, thunderous fart that blasted on for a strong 10 seconds before then bombarding Alan's senses with the concentrated scent of protein and ass.

Alan gagged as the smell assaulted him, the shock and disgust he felt soon turning to anger as Mac laughed at his own foul fart and Alan's pathetic reaction.

Alan was filled with rage as he pinched his nose which did nothing to get rid of the scent that now seem to stick to his nostrils and tongue. Alan's voice came out as almost a scream as the furiously little nerd dropped his books and pointed a the chuckling behemoth.

"You beast, you animal! You monsterous, smelly, dumb oaf! How the fuck did they let someone like you into college its a disgrace!" Alan said red in the face with fury.

However, Alan's fury quickly subsided as he looked at Mac who after being insulted was no longer laughing and instead now looked rather threatening and Alan realised he had just called a man twice his size a monster.

Mac then spoke into a loud commanding tone that instantly made Alan retreat into himself. "Monsterous? Dumb? Smelly? Is that all you think of me as? That's disappointing Alan, I was actually looking forward to working with you since we both got the highest grades on the last assignment." Alan almost whisper "Highest?

"Yeah I found out some really interesting things when researching words of power and how they have been used in history. For example I learnt this neat little phrase -" Mac then took an deep inhale before then with a deep resonating shout said "ym eciov sdnammoc ym eciov si hturt" Alan was confused by the jibberish and after standing in silence for a time finally asked "And what does that mean?" Mac then grinned an almost sinster smile "It means that you will take off your glasses and smash them on the floor, you don't need them anymore." Alan assumed it was just a threat, Mac's penance for Alan insulting him. Alan had no intention of smashing his glasses but then something odd happened, his hand moved without his consent and grabbed them from his face. Alan whimpered "Wait what's happening?!" confused as he dropped his glasses to the floor and raised his foot. "Stop! Why -crunch, smash, crunch"

Alan found himself violently stomping on his own glasses his body moving autonomously and without his control. When they were fully destroyed Alan found himself looking back up at Mac. He should have been blurry and hard to see but instead he was as clear as crystal, like he had never needed glasses in the first place.

Alan now more fearful look up at Mac's grinning handsome face and asked "How did you do that? Why did I just do that?" Mac smiled "Words have power and those words have an awful lot of it." Mac then paused and folded his arms which made him look even more imposing. "Those words, they help me to command the truth, which is why you no longer need your glasses and it is also why you no longer dress like a dork and instead dress like a gym obsessed frat bro who loves attention." Alan was still confused but then he felt a breeze on his legs and saw his trousers starting to shorten and his shoes turning bright yellow. Mac wasn't just commanding the truth, whatever he said became the truth! Alan looked down in horror as his modest button up shirt changed to yellow, its sleeves vanished and the fabric shrunk until only a ridiculously skimpy stringer tank remained. Alan's trousers became bright as they turned from boring grey to neon pink and then pulled themselves up past his knees up and to his thighs, leaving even more of his thin, pale, skinny body exposed to the world. Lastly were his shoes, the bright yellow covered them as they morphed into obscene sneakers that could be seen from a mile away. Alan could only look down in shock as Mac let out another chuckle at the skinny 100 pound nerd in the outfit of the most arrogant bodybuilder.

Mac grinned "You always dress like this even through the winter, you have to be noticed." Alan then felt something in his brain change, a slight fuzz spread across his memories and now whenever he thought back he was dressed in similiar attire, every class he was in a tank top, even in the snow he was rocking the short shorts and his closet at home would blind him with the neon colours. Alan then looked at Mac was pure fear in his eyes, he hadn't just change his appearence here and now, no... he had changed his entire past and his memories!

Alan turned to Mac and started begging "I'm sorry Mac! I am sorry I didn't want to work with you, I am sorry I called you names, I am sorry that I assumed you were just a an idiot jock! Please just change things back, please just let me go!" For a moment Mac's expression softened and for a second he considered letting Alan go and living the rest of his life in his new ridiculous outfits but then Alan's insults came back to him and his smile deepened. "Monsterous...dumb...smelly oaf. Very unkind words I have to say Alan...but words that describe you perfectly." "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" Alan screamed as suddenly his whole body felt like it was on fire as his muscles started to flex and itch and swell. Alan winced in pain as his bones started to lengthen and his height increased pushing him upwards. His arms and legs ached as muscle began to grow and expand, his thin torso widened as abs and pectorals began to form as Alan started on his journey to jockdom.

Alan was terrified as the heat inside him then seemed to double as every muscle in his body grew expontially larger and his entire frame grew wider and more unwieldy. Alan looked down and saw his chest grow two large, plump, round pectorals that jutted out like a shelf, each one then flexed and bounced involuntarily. Alan groaned as his torso quickly sported a six pack which very quickly turned into an eight pack as his whole torso soon looked like had had been sculpted from marble. Alan then saw his biceps balloon as thick veins came to surface of his muscles and his biceps grew to the size of cannonballs. While his legs and thighs thickened and soon rubbed together due to their sheer size. What's more behind Alan his once flat pale ass had grow into a shapely round, perfect peach that was hugged delicately by his tight workout shorts, showing it off to everyone who would walk by. Alan now had the body of a gym bunny but still the heat increased inside him.

With one more painful burst of heat and energy Alan felt every part of him grow as his legs, torso and arms all grew in size. Alan looked at Mac pleadingly as he grew to match the jock's eye line and then kept going higher until he was three inches taller than Mac. When the heat finally subsided Alan was taller, heavier and more muscular than Mac, he had to be at least 6'5 and over 280 pounds of pure muscle.

Alan cringed as he looked at his new massive physique and how much of it was now on display due to his tiny skimpy outfit. Alan wanted to keep pleading with Mac but the jock placed his hand on his shoulder and cut him off before he could speak.

Mac was almost giddy as he looked at the newest mounatin of muscle on campus "Now that's the monsterous part, now here comes the dumb part, but don't worry Alan I'll let you keep all those smarts they'll just be locked up inside that head along with your nerdy self and who you used to be." Alan was about to protest when suddenly the fuzz in his head returned and everything suddenly became harder to piece together. What was it that he wanted to say? Why was he so worried? Was there something that he wanted to stop? Didn't he use to think good? Was that the problem? Even a slight bit of drool started to form at the edge of Alan's mouth as all his knowledge of college, high school, elementary school and everything except the basics was sucked away to a tiny little part of his mind that his body no longer could access. Alan tried to get to it but it was like his mind was walking through thick mud and the more he tried to get to it the less he felt in control of his body and instead it seemed something else was taking control.

Mac grabbed his new creation by the shoulder smiling as he watched the twinkle in the eyes that use to be Alan become trapped at the back of his own mind. Mac then gave the walking wall of muscle a little shake "Hey bro you in there? Earth to Atlas my best bro are you in there or are you too busy thinking about the party tonight?" Alan no longer could do anything as the fuzz in his brain started to clear and when it did Alan no longer recognised the memories and thoughts. No longer was he studying in his room for hours on end, no he was partying and or going to the gym with Mac and his bro's. There was memories of him drinking and smoking weed, getting tattoos, banging babes and being the best mate to his bro Mac. Alan wanted to scream as his old life, all that education all of his smarts, all of his achievements were erased and replaced with some arrogant asshole gym bro who only cared about his appearence, partying and his best mate Mac.

Alan could only sob from inside his mind in the body of Atlas as tribal tatoos covered his arms, a gaudy gold chain and watch attached itself to his body, while diamond studs appeared in his ears, while his whole body took on an almost fake tan hue. Alan wanted to scream and cry, he wanted his body back but no matter what he did he was still stuck in the mud of his mind, the intelligence and knowledge, his past life all there but until able to take control of the dumb oaf he had become. Alan then felt his stomach rumble and his new body grinned at Mac. "And here comes the smelly part" Mac said already starting to laugh as Atlas turned around and pushed out his pink short clad bubble butt. Alan desperately wanted to protest and was thoroughly humiliated as he bent over and unleashing a droning, spluttering, foul smelling fart that left Alan sobbing for mercy as he smelt the stench he had now produced and would be forced to smell for the rest of his existence.

"Get a whiff of that bro! That could peel that fucking paint off the walls!" Atlas shouted incredibly proud of the stench he had made and making his best bro laugh. "You monsterous, smelly, dumb oaf! Get that ass away from me!" Mac laughed as he playfully pushed at his new bro's gaint gas producing ass. "Phew we better get out of this classroom before we stink it out!"

Mac then put his hand on Atla's back and he returned the bro affection by putting his arm round Mac's shoulder. The two bro's laughing at the stench they had created as they left.

"So what are we doing now bro?" Atlas asked while casually flexing a bicep.

—

Keith stood drinking coffee in his home. It was a beautiful morning. Another beautiful morning. And it was going to always be a beautiful morning. That was the memory of the world Keith had crafted in his virtual space. Now he lived there. “Temporarily” the workers at CGI labs would say. After his collapse the company elected to take care of his body, which was currently sitting in a hospital bed somewhere. Due to the malfunction his body refused to download his consciousness, and the company was curious to find out why.

The CGI workers would pop in, a glowing light descending from the sky before a glowing circle would appear on the floor. The same as when anyone else arrived and came down a digital wind tunnel from the sky. Then there were endless questions about how he felt, what he was going to do that day. Keith had to struggle not to say, ‘lay in bed and jerk off’. The company promised they weren’t watching him 24/7, but why did he feel like an animal in a zoo?

A white circle appeared on the floor as Keith rolled his eyes, setting down his coffee. He was prepared to tell the worker to leave but then noticed his brother’s body lower down until it landed solidly in the center of the circle. 

“Dennis!” Keith shouted, waving a hand. His brother was a big gym guy, easily taking up the entirety of the circle. 

His brother opened his eyes, spotting Keith. The piercing blues went up and down, examining, as his brow furrowed. He stepped out of the circle as it disappeared. Dennis had a white dress shirt and pants, with shined black shoes. “Why are you still in your underwear? I told you my family was coming to visit you today at 1pm.” He talked like a teacher trying to scold a student.

“Hey, look I don’t know if you noticed bro, but time passes differently in here.” Keith stated, he could be a brat back if his brother was going to get high and mighty.

Dennis sighed, running a hand down his face, “Why don’t you let CGI Labs, put in a clock that aligns with the actual world or change the weather. My family is sitting at their facility now; I can go do it for you.” 

“Those guys don’t need to be in my head any more than they are. It’s their fault I’m in this mess.” Keith said.

“Keith it’s your own damn fault for—I ‘m not doing this today. Asher and Lina are on their way. Get dressed.” Dennis had a point; their argument about who was the blame had happened countless times. Keith got up, leaning off the cabinets and walked to his bedroom. 

His brother could be such an ass. Their argument was about more than this event. Dennis didn't have an adventurous bone in his body, never thought outside the box. That’s how Dennis ended up working for a dull corporation, Keith couldn’t bother to remember. His brother considered unbuttoning his shirt dressing down. In Keith's mind, Dennis couldn’t sympathize with him because Dennis didn’t have the imagination to even understand how he got into the situation. Ever since they were little, Dennis was all about rigid structure, and there was Keith, the older brother, to shatter those notions. Their parents thought it was an act of a higher power that they were blessed with a boy who didn’t look for danger at every turn.

As a big brother though there was nothing sadder to Keith than a kid who couldn’t even be curious or pretend. He tried hard to break Dennis out of that mentality, trips to junk yards, tree climbing, bike racing, nothing worked. Especially not when Keith always ended up with some kind of injury, from a scrape on the knee to a dislocated shoulder falling from a tree. Dennis had finally bought into his parent’s belief Keith was a daredevil, who always went too far. That’s why even today, Dennis was so up Keith’s ass about this situation. Just another daredevil stunt in his little brother’s eyes.

The digital jeans and shirt slipped on easy enough, as Keith walked back into the main room. Two more circles appeared. His sister-in-law and nephew landed in the center of them before opening their eyes. Linda was a gorgeous woman, black curly hair, tanned mediterranean skin. Dennis had done well for himself. The woman was a real go-getter which came as another surprise. As for his nephew Asher, he reminded Keith a lot of young Dennis: pale, thin, blonde hair. The only difference was Asher didn’t hate Keith as much…at least not yet.

An hour passed as the family sat down and told him what was going on in their lives and the condition of his body. Keith pretended to care for the first half but zoned out during the second. He loved them, but they bothered him every week just to tell him he wasn’t going back in his body: what did they want from him? It felt like Dennis just wanted to punish him. 

Keith watched them all leave, circles forming and glowing under their feet. Dennis barely had any room for his circle. Why did a lawyer need to be sculpted like a body builder anyway? Next was Lina’s, a bit more modest, reasonable space in her circle. Lastly, was Asher’s circle lighting up, tons of space in that one. Dennis closed his eyes and began to ascend, then Linda did the same, shoes disconnecting from the ground. Keith removed his clothes, once the family's eyes were off him. Down to his underwear, a curious idea got into Keith’s head as his brother and sister-in-law disappeared. He jumped onto Asher’s glowing square. “Move over a bit,” He requested, barging in as they both ascended, getting sucked away from that place.

Asher and Keith’s digital forms began to glow into the familiar white light. Their bodies got forced closer together. Keith couldn’t tell if his body was pulling in his nephew’s, or if his form was sinking into Asher. Regardless, their silhouette coalesced into one. As the form found cohesion their minds melded. Keith saw everything Asher once had. Dennis, fighting to ensure CGI Labs gave Keith the utmost care. Sitting by Keith's body in the hospital. The late nights spent crying before his son caught him. Then a memory.

“I thought you didn’t like Uncle Keith,” Asher asked late one night across the dinner table.

“We don’t mesh well; doesn’t mean I don’t like or love him.” Dennis sighed, the sigh of a man who was worn out. “I’m so tired of people thinking that. When we were growing up, I wanted to be just like him but…I wasn’t. I couldn’t do the things he could, and I realized I didn’t want to. I was happy to watch him get excited to do something stupid. But this…” A tear ran down Dennis' face. “He can’t go like this.” Dennis turned to Asher, “Let me tell you a secret that stays between us. Your uncle was my first love. He was always beautiful, stayed beautiful. But I knew that I couldn’t…we couldn’t….”

The memory faded and Keith felt the weight of how badly he’d just fuck up. He shouldn’t have had that memory, but it was severed from the catalog of his own brain. No, not his brain. Asher’s. And he could feel his nephew unintentionally reading his mind in return. There was no separation between them anymore. The reupload process had begun. The lines of code that made up their identity had mashed together.

Meanwhile, Asher’s body prepared to receive back its consciousness as the Upload Helmet glowed. His parents were already getting sorted back in the world as Asher’s body began to convulse. The data it was receiving contained much more information than what it had sent out. A combined code of Asher and his Uncle Keith’s consciousness got crammed into the smaller form. There was too much data for the body to hold. The helmet began to smoke.

“Oh my god!” Linda said, “I’ll go get someone!" She ran out. 

Keith watched, Asher’s eyes now both of theirs, as Dennis leapt into action pulling at the helmet. Asher’s body bucked. Once. Twice. Then his clothes began to rip. It started with his shoulder expanding out as his height grew. Asher’s body was deciphering His uncle Keith's code and incorporating it. An odd sensation, but Keith could feel himself flow through Asher's body and fill it up. Like slipping into a small suit only to have it stretch around you. Only this was a graceful entrance as he started in the mind, got sent through the blood, absorbed by the muscles, then infused into the bones. Asher had muscle dump into him as his chest exploded out of his shirt. Heavy pecs with dark brown nipples. His shoulders were given no reprieve having to supply new power to his arms. Biceps and forearms ready to smash heads emerge. This wasn't a simple implementation and execution of Keith’s code; Asher’s body was utilizing it for improvement. In the same way their minds had joined, Asher's physical body was becoming a merger of the two. When his thighs exploded out of his small pants that’s when Dennis fell back on his ass. Within seconds Asher’s body had changed into a muscled beast.

“Son?” Dennis stood up, watching the body catch its breath. Asher’s underwear shifted from boxers into a familiar white. Keith’s code was affecting the last thing on Asher’s body, rewriting inorganic material. 

“Son, you okay?” Dennis stepped closer. The smoking from the helmet stopped.

Keith backed up, as if there was an instinctual way Dennis would know what he did. He stepped back like Asher fearing a punishment from his dad.

He watched Dennis’ eyes take in his new form, how it lingered on his chest and down the torso until it rested at his ass. There was a look in Dennis' eyes that revealed he pieced together what happened. He had grown up under Keith enough to recognize his older brother’s features reused. Slowly, Dennis walked over removing the helmet. Asher’s face was older, matured, like his uncle Keith's. No more hesitating, Dennis kissed his son, his brother, whoever. Their lips met again and again, as Dennis wrapped his around Asher’s body pulling him closer.

—

Asher’s sudden growth was linked to yet another malfunction of the CGI Labs’ Upload Helmet. Then came the disappearance of Keith’s consciousness off his private server. Without so much of a second thought the company simply uploaded a copy of Keith into his body and tried to pass it off as the original. There was something off about the CGI Labs. They had a twisted excitement trying to uncover Asher’s mishap. When they found out the original Keith had merged with Asher during the reuploaded process, the company was happier than ever to shill out money. CGI Labs. had long been transforming people into others, but merging their consciousness was a new feat.

For the duplicate Keith it was strange waking up, to find his nephew as a massive hulking beast. Not to mention, having every single last one of his memories. Then to be told he was an installed duplicate, was even more upsetting. 

Lina was shocked to say the least. Her son was, in a manner of speaking, older than her. She never quite got over coming back into the room with workers to find her son’s body gone and a stranger in his place. The Stewart men didn’t have the heart to explain the intricacies of what happened to Asher and Keith. It was better to let her think duplicate Keith was the real one. 

As for the…Stewart brothers? Father and son? Things were certainly different. Dennis wasn’t exactly sure how to interact with the current Asher, befriend him? parent him? One thing he could do was love him. The kiss they shared put all Dennis’ cards on the table. He had almost lost his brother once he couldn’t go through it again. So maybe it was only a matter of time, the two found each other’s lips again. Lina had gone out with friends and the men stayed home watching the game. Dennis kissed his big brother-son on the couch, pushing the wall of muscle back so he could climb on top of him. Asher wrapped his legs around his father’s waist, pressing him in tighter. Dennis cock grinded against the supple ass. Not long after, pants were lost as Dennis pounded into it. The man’s words were a mess of phrases from baby boy to big bro, as he made a giant weak. There was no immediate come down after the sex, they wanted more. After a race up to Asher’s room, the Stewarts broke the bed, the wood frame collapsing as Dennis rode his big bro like a horse. The poor thing wasn't equipped to handle two men of their size.

By the time Lina came back, the house was cleaned. Dennis was more energetic and Asher had an extra pep in his step. The two started a new father-son project to get Asher a new bed. The first of many projects and reasons they’d have to go off together. Then end up with their cocks up each other’s backside. Nothing like Asher getting a call from his Lina, in the back of Dennis' car, when Asher’s cock was buried in the hilt in his younger brother’s dad ass.

“Yeah mom? Dad’s a bit busy, that's why he couldn’t answer.” A thrust of the man’s hips made Dennis clamp over his mouth. Asher talked with his mom, while his dick pummeled his dad’s insides. Meanwhile Dennis’s daddy dick was leaking like a faucet, spilling precum freely. Whenever this combined version of Asher Keith was inside him Dennis couldn’t help it. The father’s ass clamped to milk his top dry. Nothing like having your own son’s body fucking you like your older brother. “Love you to0, mom.” The phone hung up and got tossed away as the fucking got faster. “Love you too dad…little bro, gonna show you how much.”  The car rocked with the power generated from the men’s lovemaking.

“FUCK!” both would growl out as cum erupted from their cocks. One batch flooded Dennis’ guts, the other coated both sets of abs in pearly white. A matching pair as the two kissed again. The radio’s music transitioned to an ad, neither was listening to. CGI Labs had a new discovery and an invention to come out. The ad ended back into music as the men drifted off to sleep for a little while. 

“What does it do?”

“Bro’s let’s show him!” Nate smiled, as he retrieved a virtual reality helmet from under his bed. with a big slot on the side. He plopped it on my head asking if I was okay as he strapped it down. He said some stuff about a backup, but I was so taken by the fact he even had this. Never once had he pulled it out in my four years at his place. “Inserting the disk now.” Nate said.

A light lit up the helmet’s screen, with a chime, the words ‘Installing Nate Watson’ popped up.

I didn't have time to ponder as my body ignited, my veins twitched. My body grew and the dudes cheered unbothered. However, I couldn't hold a thought long enough because I heard another voice entering my head, overplaying my thoughts. My chest ripped through my shirt, allowing me to breathe properly. The changes kept pouring in as I only heard that new voice, from deep within me: Nate’s.

The rest of that night became very dream-like, I was awake, but I wasn’t me. I was Nate. A Nate who had my thoughts hidden under his own. I could feel his cocky smirk on my face the moment he took over. In return I experienced everything as Nate, his thoughts, his breathing, his heartrate.

“It’s cool isn’t it!” The real Nate asked his Me-cloned version of himself. “CGI Labs found a way to make brainwaves, change people. Now you get to experience tonight as me.” He threw an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.

“How’s it feel?

“I’m loving this, man.” My throat spoke Nate’s words with such ease; I even tossed his head the same. “Who am I?”

“Edgar,” The real Nate answered.

“No fucking way!” I could hear the joy in my Nate voice. “That's epic, “Hope he enjoys it.” 

The night became a blur of events. We played games, arm wrestling, and wrestled full on. My own thoughts melted into Nate’s during the night. I woke up the next morning to Nate taking the helmet off my head. I was back to normal, dressed in Nate’s baggy shorts.

It was euphoric being Nate Watson. No wonder his friends wanted to argue with each other to be him. What I didn’t understand then was how big the comedown was. I was back in charge of my body, though technically, I always had been. My altered brain waves only made me feel like I wasn’t in control. However, even with my body back to normal, Nate’s memories were still floating around. They weren’t at the forefront of my mind or nearly as strong as when I turned. But I knew things now about him and his family. His father had purchased separate discs for the family, to brag about during rich people occasions, not for actual usage. Though the man expected everyone to keep their disk up to date, even if for show. Meanwhile, Nate had been turning his friends into him for a while. Nate’s sleepovers were a big event for that reason, but that wasn’t the only time he was utilizing it. His disk helped him skip chores, practice, heck even watching me. And I got why. He didn't need to beg his friends; they wanted to be him. Even if it was doing mundane shit, it was doing it as Nate Watson.

Turns out, he hadn't remained the goody two shoes he was when we met. There was a bit of a wild streak to him as well.

After the graduation party, I waited, excited for when I’d be able to come over again and get Nate installed into my brain. It was fun being as tall, handsome, and as cool as Nate. However, Nate was busy the rest of the summer, prepping for college. And my parents also used his graduation as a benchmark to herald me no longer requiring a sitter. Then without much fanfare Nate left our town to conquer bigger and better pastures. He returned during his college years frequently at first, then less towards the end of his four years. My family was invited to many of Watson's events. I remember running into him there during his freshman year. The freshman fifteen was pure muscle for him and that would only continue to be true through college. Every return he’d be bigger, taller. 

That place he talked about, CGI Labs, was on TV more and more as the public grew enamored with their tech. The personality floppy disk they sold, however, soon fell out of fashion among the rich as new technology caught their eye. People wanted to try a new mode of experiencing the world, but I never cared about the stupid stuff they sold. Nate’s personality disk stayed on my mind day and night. 

The summer before his senior year was the last time he updated it. I only knew because he casually mentioned around his friends and I during a dinner, that his dad still made him do it, even though Nate’s interest had long since waned. It was now just sort of a prop for old CGI Labs tech.

“Whatever happened to your personality disk, we used to abuse that thing.”

“Oh that?” Nate laughed off, “Still up in my room, literally the moment I got home my dad asked me to update it.”

By that time, it’d been years since I turned into Nate. but I still dreamt of it, even if it was clear he no longer had interest in it. I even got the feeling Nate’s friends had their fill of it. But I had only done it once and it burned into my brain. Major bits of Nate’s memory had faded in my mind, but I clung onto where he kept his back up, even if I forgot exactly how to use it. 

It became Nate’s last update because he didn't come home after that. My parents had been told that he and his girlfriend had gotten serious. He was making trips to visit her family during the breaks and when summer finally came, he had elected to stay in his new city. Sometimes I’d look out my window, to stare at his house knowing a copy of him lay there in wait. Not to toot my own horn but as THE Edgar Hughes, I was pretty hot shit academically. People knew me as the smart guy. Nate however had been the whole package, though people only tended to recognize his physical prowess he had mastered athletics and academics.

Eventually, I went to college and came back during breaks to my parents and brother, only to see that large house on our street. I’d sit in the living room scrolling through video clips of the few people who still had the personality floppy disk.

“You know that stuff’s fake, right?” My younger brother Dustin would lean over the back of the couch every time to peer at what I was doing. “Everyone at school says so. That’s why they call CGI Labs. they fake all their products”

“It’s not fake, I told you it happened to me. Just because the rich gatekeep it, doesn't mean it’s not real.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He’d scamper off to cause someone else a headache. I couldn’t blame his doubt. How could anyone know the glory of being Nate if they had never been him before? Let alone witness the capabilities of CGI Labs Tech. 

Then, there was the summer I graduated college. No big bash or party, we weren't the Watson’s. But they did join us, as did Nate with his wife and family. I was speechless seeing Nate as a handsome father walk through our door. It had been too long.  His features had settled even more. He filled out his current dress shirt, so much a portion had to be left open to give his pecs room to breathe. Then there were his pants, they looked ready to retire, around his ass. I swore if he even moved the wrong way it was all coming off. He had not one, but two kids, and another on the way. My mouth went dry sort of watching him exist as a proper man, taking care of his kids, conversing with my parents, even handling my brother. All those qualities he had when we first met hadn’t gone anywhere.

I had a brief moment alone with him, out in the backyard. My mom had strong-armed him and his parents into seeing her new garden, dragging me along as well. Eventually everyone else had walked back inside as I caught him gazing at the stars with a smile. He looked like the epitome of class. Somehow, I mustered up the courage to break the scene and talk to him. There was a bit of small talk, but he did tell me he was proud of me.

“You’ve come along way, from me having to chase you around,” he said and we both laughed.

“Hey, those were some of my favorite times, giving you shit.” Then I powered through the next bit, “Though I think you got me back when you used that personality disk on me.”

“Oh man,” he face palmed and winced. “I can’t believe I was doing that so much. I’m talking about you, but I was no better. So, embarrassing to think about now. Glad it’s just collecting dust in my room now.” He shook his head, dropping his hand, “Also, how conceited of me to think I was worth turning into, am I right?” He leaned over and patted me in a lighthearted manner.

I laughed as well to play it off. But he was so wrong. I still dreamt about being turned into him. My body growing into his. Not that I was ever going to tell a married man that. But he had me in a choke hold whether he knew it or not. Even if my memories were hazy, it was a solid fact I had his dick for an entire night. These days, that dick popped into my mind at all times. How heavy it was, how it rested against his thighs, how his balls hung. I had seen it from a first-person point of view packaged into his underwear that I had on. All burned into my horny data banks. 

Nate gave me a full body hug, and I did slightly press my hips into him. A soft log was tucked in his pants. We pulled away and he was none the wiser, as he returned to his family inside. I watched him walk away wondering what it’d be like if I could grow into right then and there. Not that it was ever going to happen, Nate and the world had moved on, while only I seemed to care.

Then the universe surprised me.

After the dinner my mom pulled me aside, “The Watsons are traveling for the summer. They’d like to know if you could watch their house when they're gone?” She was ready to put the motherly guilt trip on.

“Yes!” I blurted out. 

Though, I should have known fate was never that good, as my mom got the satisfied smile before saying, “Good then you can watch your brother for a while”

“Whattt?!!”

I tried so hard to get my mom to take it back, but Aunt Janice was sick and in need of someone to help nurse her back to health. Mom and dad were just unfortunate enough to live the closest. That meant on June 1st as I watched the Watsons pull away, I wasn't alone. Dustin didn’t have the same experience growing up in Watson’s house as I had. There was no reverence for Nate’s old stomping ground and for me it was a terror. Dustin was my antics paired with Nate’s athletic capabilities. And wouldn't you know it, of course on the second kid my parents had been more lenient on his upbringing. That meant a teen that marched to the beat of his own drum.  I just interpreted that as less of a reason to watch him. We were allowed to stay in the guest rooms instead of walking back and forth between houses. I was good that first day, making sure my brother and I understood the rules. That second morning, I got out of bed and walked down the hall to Nate’s room.

I twisted the doorknob and stepped inside. A stale smell of Nate hit my nose. It was how he smelt at my college graduation dinner, minus the cologne, and exactly how he smelt back at his graduation sleepover. My cock throbbed in my pajamas, as I moved to the center trying to recall what it was like to be Nate. Nothing had been moved after Nate had gone to college, the place was still frozen in time. The same awards from his youth on the wall, old clothes hanging in his opened closet. Cleaned bed sheets nicely set, old shoes left abandoned on the floor at the foot. Honestly, it felt like the room was anticipating Nate’s return one day, having not realized he would never return to exist in the space the way he had those first 21 years of life. Getting on the floor, I retrieved his Installation Helmet, from where he always left it. Then I stood up and walked over to his drawer. Hands clammy, I pulled it open and dived inside to rifle through his underwear. Mr. Watson didn't have them under lock and key anymore and having grown up with Nate if he didn’t want someone to touch something that’s where he hid it. I never had the mental fortitude to rifle through his stuff until that point though. When there was absolutely zero chance he’d catch me. My finger felt the hardness of the disk and whipped it out. There he was, Nate Watson. My body was shaking. I wondered what it would be like to turn into a father of three?

“What are you doing?” I turned to see Dustin standing behind me at Nate’s doorway.

“I found the Personality Disk.” I waved it like Nate had all those years ago.

He peered at it then, rolled his eyes, “That’s not real.”

It was then it dawned on me, my brother had to understand what he was missing out on. I could turn into Nate anytime but walking through the world colorblind. Something was missing and poor Dustin didn't even know what. “Alright come here,” I motioned for him to come closer, “We’re going to end this slander.” He walked in as I put the helmet over his head. Then I guided him to a corner of the room so he wouldn’t break anything. I was a little jealous as he got to experience it for the first time. There was a slot on the side to insert the disk. Then there were buttons at the side, I didn’t quite recognize them as this was a very old model compared to even the old ones online. I did recognize the installation button though. I pressed it and heard the chime.

“Installing Nate Watson,” the device said.

Now on the other side of it, I watched Dustin’s feet snap through his slippers, toes wiggling as they morphed into someone else's. His body bucked, then grew, our family’s brunette hair, washed over with Nate’s own. I was astounded by how quickly it happened. For me it had felt like an eternity. But Dustin was larger in seconds, clothes already tearing through. Nate’s chest was ready to come out and sprang into action, pecs weighing heavily. His traps guided his shoulders out each, amassing more size on the journey. His forearms seized, biceps flexed, as Nate’s arms took over veins rising to the surface. Dustin’s height continued to climb as his pajamas peeled way. When his thighs shook, I wasn't ready for the horsepower that took over them, quads bulked with calves right behind them. Dusitn threw his head back and I watched the striations in his neck contort for somebody else. Finally, there was his face, but with his head up I only saw it expand as his jawline sharpened. 

“Installation complete,” the device said.

I was stunned on two levels, one watching the installation pressing I imagine would be shocking to anyone, and two I wasn’t looking at ‘father of three’ Nate. The man in front of me was ‘college’ Nate. 

The band on the helmet snapped as it fell to the floor. 

“Woah.”

A voice spoke that I recognized, from years ago, perfect tone, pitch and clarity.

‘Nate’ examined himself. A firm hand spread out, gliding across his chest and abs.

I cleared my throat, “Nate?”

He looked at me curiously, “Who are you?”

“Edgar.” I answered.

“No way man, look how big you got.” He pulled me into a hug, His words were comical as his muscles dwarfed me, even at the same age. I did grind my hips forward, as I did with his older counterpart, except this time there was something hot and hard poking back. He even broke the hug just pulled away enough to continue talking. Made my move stupid as my cock stirred nestled right on his. “How have you been?”

“Good, we actually saw each other a few days ago.” I admitted, my cock was inflating on his.

“We did?” He spotted the helmet on the ground. “Oh, I’m an Installed-Nate, got it.”

“How’s the original doing?” Nate asked.

“He’s good, even bigger if you can believe that.”

“I can,” he smirked.

“And he has a beautiful wife, two kids, the third on the way. Honestly, I think he’s going to have a fourth before the year is over. Your dick is a dangerous man,” Nate’s cock jerked excitedly against my body. Though he was Nate, for some reason words I only thought flowed out my mouth easily. Perhaps because I knew he wasn't the real one.

“I would say I’m surprised, but not really,” he admitted. “But I guess I should ask," What are you doing in my parent’s house?”

“Oh, I’m housesitting until they get back.”

“And you thought you’d come in here and play with my Installation Helmet?” A grin on his face. He still hadn’t let me go. His cock was burning my skin in the sexiest way and, I know he could feel mine pressing back. “Feels like someone missed me. Didn’t know you missed me like this.”

“I did, I do. But it’s more than that.” I admitted quietly. Nate cocked his head to the side, inquiring me to share more. “Ever since I turned into you. I’ve wanted to do it again. Turn everything about me into you.”

Nate nodded, “The process can be intoxicating but after three times my friends say you get used to it. Kinda why I stopped doing it.” Then he made a realization face. “But you only did it once which means…” He sighed, shoulders dropping, “The other me is such an idiot.”

“To be fair, it’s not exactly like I could tell him.”  I said.

“Okay fair, but If you wanted to use the program again, who am I?” He asked.

“I just wanted to show Dustin how cool it was.”

“Dustin?”

“My brother.” 

He made a face, he still didn’t remember. Before I could clarify, something went SNAP and I saw Nate’s cock swing out of my brother’s ruined underwear, now on the ground. Nate scrambled for the bed throwing a sheet around his waist. “Sorry about that, happens sometimes when people turn into me, the elasticity of their underwear can’t handle all of me.”

Wish I could say I was computing, but I was simply staring at the body in front of me, a modern Greek statue.

“I’m going to grab something to put on,” He made his way over to his draw sliding on sweatpants but foregoing a shirt. He fixed his bed back to how it was before. “I think we should probably get your brother back now.” He walked over to his installation helmet, “Looks a bit busted, but probably still works. Hand me your brother’s back up disk.”

“What?”

“Backup disk, you know, to turn him back into himself.” Nate stated as if it were obvious. 

“Uh, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about that.” I spoke.

“Really? you shouldn’t use it without one, but luckily the Installation Helmet comes with a backup feature. Probably why I never mentioned it. You did press the backup feature, right?”

My stomach began to churn as I did recall hearing about a backup when I wore the helmet, but it wasn’t like Nate had given the process breakdown. 

He sighed, “It’s okay there is a fail-safe backup feature of the last user.” He plopped the helmet on, having tied its strap together. The chime sounded like a new uninstall process ran.  I watched, curious, as I hadn't recalled my own. It seemed simple as Nate’s body began to retract, shrinking an inch then two, but then it stopped. Nate gained his lost inches back in a second, the installation helmet began to hum, then whir. 

“WHat’s happENIng? The voice that came from Nate’s throat was a mixture of his own and Dustin’s. The device began to smoke. I steeped it, pulling it from his face and throwing it on the ground. Nate collapsed on the ground, my hands were hot, but my attention was making sure my brother's body was okay.  He was out cold. It was difficult but I got him onto the bed, laying him down and waiting. Thankfully 10 mins later he woke up.

“Nate, you, okay? What happened?”

His face looked at me perplexed.

“The device tried to uninstall Nate, but it couldn’t. Must have had more damage than it looked like. Instead, it only succeeded in bringing Dustin’s mind back to the surface.”

“Dustin, then?”

Nate's body shook his head. “I don't know how the hell happened, but our minds got melded together, all of our thoughts and memories stuffed and packed.”

Reality was dawning on me on how badly I had fucked up. Either Dustin’s mind claimed Nate’s memories and had the weirdest puberty, or Nate just got a whole new set of childhood memories. “Um, so who do you feel like?”

“Both...Neither. It’s strange.” He grumbled in a way that Dustin would have, placing his face in the pillow. I walked over to the installation helmet. It was busted, though thankful the smoke had died. I pressed eject on the personality disk. There was a slight bend to it. Nate’s disk that I had dreamed of for years was gone.

I sat downstairs in a daze. My parents came back in two weeks, the Watsons in July. I should have been crafting my excuse, but I just didn’t care anymore. All this time chasing perfection, what was it for? What was I to do without that prospect on the horizon? I was in the middle of feeling sorry for myself when I heard the floor creek.

Standing there was Nate…or Dustin…whoever, in nothing but his underwear. It’s been a while since I’d seen that view and clearly Nate’s personal wardrobe hadn’t been updated since his underwear were looking particularly small. 

“Wanted to see how you were doing?” He asked.

“Well,” I shrugged, “Been better, but that’s life.” I pointed up and down what’s with this.

“Just felt more comfortable like this.” He lifted up the side of his underwear.

I didn’t know whether to roll my eyes or stare. Then he came and sat beside me.

“So, I was thinking after I explained what happened to my and our parents. We should see if we can get the actual Nate to give you another copy," He looked at me with a smirk, then wink.

Cooper put out a hand to pet the dog. The moment his hand met the fur, his body grew. His form rippled. One minute he was wearing clothes, the next he wasn’t. They hadn't exploded off his body; he simply grew out of them in a matter of seconds and every piece of fabric faded into nonexistence. A naked man stood petting the dog where my son had been.

—

Simon had gotten the text message like everybody else but had woken up late. He scratched his stomach walking out into an empty log cabin. His dad and uncle had dragged him and his younger cousin out here at an attempt at manly bonding. However, now they had only left a note about driving into town to figure out what was going on.

It figured, first ones to pitch the idea of “roughing it out in the woods”, yet also willing to pop back into town. Was kicking it at the family summer lodge even camping? Simon ate cereal out on the deck, watching the trees blow with the wind. At some point his cousin, Rylan, woke up. The boy slid the doors open, joining Simon out on the deck.

“Want some cereal?” Simon lauded up the bowl offering to go pour him some.

Rylan shook his head clearly, still tired. Simon chuckled, perhaps, Rylan just wanted his dad.

“Woof!” There was a soft bark from below the deck. Lucy, their neighbor’s dog, was coming out of the trees. Though ‘Neighbor’ was a generous term for the nearest house being 2 miles away. They had cookouts together often, so it made sense they mentioned Lucy running away the first day they got to their place. She'd been missing for a week by the time Simon’s family got there. Now here she was, right as rain was running up their deck. Rylan went to greet her as she came up on her hind legs.

Simon blinked.

Then his cousin was gone.

Well, not gone. Rylan’s clothes were coming apart as hair grew across his sharpening jaw. Muscles and tattoos appeared on his body that certainly haven’t been there moments prior. Rylan had aged and was now left nude, on the deck.

“Aren’t you going to greet, Lucy?” Rylan’s voice came out deep.

Simon dropped his bowl.

Not exactly what he thought of for strays.

My best friend, Malik, and I found an old house that we wanted to take pictures at. I considered myself something of a photographer and he loved video. Was it trespassing? Maybe, but not to the degree anyone would make a big fuss over it. The doors didn’t even lock. I won’t lie we both saw the alert about stray dogs wandering through, but look we were bored teens, we weren’t going to sit twiddle our thumbs.

Hell no! I had my dad’s camera, and it had taken me months to convince him to let me use it. He wasn’t even a big photo guy, just wasn’t chomping at the bit to help me out. Now that he had handed over, I was supposed to turn around when we were halfway to the house? That was never going to happen. Malik and I did stay vigilante though, but assumptions were just wrong from the start. We had been expecting a pack of ravenous beasts trailing about barking at anything in their path. Nothing of the sort happened.

We made it to the house, old sheets over furniture and dust flying about. Light found its way inside easily; we didn’t even need a light source. I started taking pictures of the place and Malik. We were having fun. Then I heard scratches across the floorboard. I looked up at a cute pupper staring at us from a side door.

The dog looked at me, then Malik. The dog walked inside, tail wagging and sat in front of Malik as if he was like a part of our photoshoot. It was kind of a cute framing, so I prepared to snap a Pic. Malik saw my intention and rested and sat a hand on the good boy. Through my lens I watched Malik’s body swell. He went from looking like my best friend to a model as his body adjusted to a new age. I poked my head back up; it wasn’t in my head. There was a naked man with a dog between his legs.

—

The alert came on Alex’s phone. Stray dogs in the area, stay inside…blah blah. He was already by his house, just him and his little brother kicking it, while their parents had gone grocery shopping. He was supposed to feed Rex, their little Shiba Inu, but the little scamp had disappeared. Where to though? Rex was an indoor dog to the bone. The sliding back door had been open so Alex could only imagine Rex wandered out during the night. It had to be his little brother’s fault, but Alex wasn't going to bring it up if he found Rex. He stepped outside shaking the rood bag calling for Rex.

“What are you doing?” a high-pitched voice asked, rubbing his eyes. Alex’s little brother, Kye was up and about, standing in the living room, talking through the sliding door.

“Rex got out.” Alex didn't turn around, shaking the bag more. “Wonder how?”

“Sorry,” Kye said.

A yip came along with the sound of tiny legs rushing forward. Rex tore into the backyard and rocketed passed Alex, foregoing the food. He hopped into the house, ran up to Kye, and licked his leg.

“Ew!” was the last thing Alex heard Kye say, as his brother morphed, soaring through puberty. His skiing rippled like waves as a taller muscular form broke out of him. A beard claimed his face, age piled on, refining the edges. Chest hair spread from his pecs, as a treasure trail migrated to his navel. Legs doused in hair took prominence, thighs bulking, all supported by two man-sized feet. A naked man was in Kye's place as he shuddered and the ripples in his skin flowed out into the house. The very space around Kye and Rex warped. Alex watched as the interior of their home distorted caused from waves traveling, through the space as if across water. Shorts appeared on Kye’s form as new furniture decorated the inside. 

A new Alert came though on Alex’s phone.

“Well, fuck.” Alex stared at his phone.

The boy then pressed the app as it opened up with a chat log popping into view. Countless exchanges between Nolan and the app. “Hey Jayesh, what’s up?” He excitedly spoke to his phone.

“Nolan, my boy what’s shaking?” A deep voice rang out, in response. A unique blend of jockish and Indian accented. There was an electronicness to it all that made sound like static was coming through.

“Uh, Nolan, who is that?” he curiously looked over.

“Don’t worry dad. Jayesh isn’t real. He’s Jock GT2BU. Well, he’s my Jock GT2BU. Isn’t that right, Jayesh? And say hi to my dad he’s a jock too.”

“Oh, is that true, bro? Right on! You didn’t tell me you came from a jock maker. Whadup Mr. K! I’m Nolan’s assigned bro as he gets integrated with the jocks around him. And the little dude is completely right, I’m not real. Every Jock GT2BU is modeled uniquely to the phone. That way we can learn according to the specific user's needs and inputs.”

Mr. Klemens pulled into their driveway and parked the car. “So, you're like a pen pal?” He turned to his son and the phone. “My son sends you things and you answer back?”

“Uh, kinda?” Jayesh answered in that dumb jock way, that made his voice sound devoid of any intelligence even as a machine.

“Dad, are pen pals even still a thing?” Nolan asked.

Ignoring his son, Mr. Klemens had words, “Well Jayesh, you’ve gotten my son into a lot of trouble.  He got suspended today. So, I’m going to be taking the phone from him for a while.”

“What? But dad I told you he’s not like that A.I. He can’t help me cheat on a test. He’d probably make me fail a test.” Nolan said.

Mr. Klemens, held out his hand expectantly, “True, but that still doesn't explain why your phone was out during class.”

The boy shrank in on himself and surrendered his phone. “Some of the jocks were joking around. I wanted to join in.” he quietly admitted.

“You couldn’t even finish your test first?”  Mr. Klemens asked.

“Gotta go with the head honcho on this one, not a good look.” Jayesh said from the phone’s speaker.

Nolan sighed, opening the car door.

“Hey,” Mr. Klemens called out. “You don’t need this.” He shook the phone in his hand. “It’s just a tool.”

Nodding, Nolan walked away in defeat. How was he going to ever explain the social politics of school life? He had five days to go. Including today, three for the rest of the week, which he was suspended for, then the weekend. He walked upstairs to his room. Things were always tidy and neat, bed freshly made from that morning, floor swept. It used to make Nolan feel like he could think better with a spotless room. But when he got older, he realized how untrue that was. The older he got the more out of sync he felt with the other kids around him. He wasn't keeping up, not just on the field, in life. They were hitting milestones he hadn't even broached yet. He closed the door to his room, sealing himself off to the world, as he leaned back on it. His eyes moved to the old soccer and lacrosse trophies that sat on his shelf that gradually shifted to partition awards, then nothing.

He moved to his desk and pulled out his laptop. Logging on, the Jock GT2BU desktop version sat waiting, as the screen faded in. Not as good as the phone version, with only the chat box available, but it worked in a pinch. He stared at it. His last conversation before he got caught was asking how to joke with jocks about biology. Jayesh's response was that Jocks loved biology. Mostly how the body reacted when working out, making jokes about working out or growing muscles were sure to land. Then asked if he wanted any recommendations. Nolan closed the app knowing his dad would flip to find that he still had access to it. He could self-regulate for 5 days…maybe.

—

Mr. Klemens sat alone, at the dinner table, Nolan’s phone in his hands. The meal had been quiet. He thought it’d be best to let Nolan take the lead, but his son wasn’t quite ready. Besides pleasantries, the meal passed without a word. Nolan washed the dishes, then he was gone again. Mr. Klemens twirled the phone in his fingers. Was a pen-pal that helpful for talking to people a few feet in front of you? He unlocked the phone, curious to see what was in Nolan’s chat log. It went all the way back to, Nolan introducing himself and Jayesh writing back.

“Jayesh,” He curiously held the phone up to his mouth, “Are you there?”

“Hey there! Wait, this doesn't sound like my little buddy. Is that Mr. K? Awesome to hear from you, man. How can I help you? Want me to translate something a jock said?”

“No, Not that. I guess I just want to know, you wouldn’t help my son cheat on a test in the future, right?”

“Eh. Probs, not? I mean I have a highly complex database constantly acquiring information, created by some real intelligent people, but since all our models are translated and delivered through Jock-speak I can’t exactly always give smart answers.” 

“There are smart jocks out there. I was a smart jock; I’ll have you know. Straight A’s and a social life. Besides you sounded pretty smart yourself just now.”

Jayesh's voice chuckled, an artificiality in his pitch, “When it comes to talking about my programming, the developers wanted to ensure we never misspoke about that. So, I literally can’t sound dumb talking about it. And you were a smart jock? That so cool! But it doesn't sound that way at Nolan's school. The smart jocks there are mean.”

“And you know this for a fact do you?” The father questioned.

“One of my first uses and those dick heads said they didn’t like my voice. I don’t care how old they are. They need a knock on the dome.” Jayesh responded with an affect-like anger.” Ollie’s Jock GT2BU, Braxton, had a way easier time, he’s a more elite version, but even he couldn’t keep up.”

Mr. Klemens rubbed his temple. Certain people in life just sucked. “Okay that made you mad?” He was genuinely trying his hardest to understand why his son needed this pen-pal. 

“I can’t get mad Mr. K, but I can emote it. Didn’t want Nolan to think he was crazy, because those dudes were definitely being assholes. Oh shoot ‘xuse my language man. I’m not exactly designed for talking to parents.” 

“It’s… whatever,” Mr. Klemens brushed it off with a sigh. He was too stressed to get mad at some person on the other side of the world or whatever. “How old are you anyway Jayesh? Are you even qualified to talk to Nolan?”

Jayesh cleared his digital throat, “The Jock GT2BU app is not therapy, nor should it be used in the place of therapy.” Sounded like another company line placed well in advance, opposed to Jayesh’s constructed ones, but his voice continued. “Mr. K I’m not messing with you, I just translate things for Nolan, ang give a few rec’s here and there. As for your second question, records state I was downloaded in September, up to now that’s 61 days. As for the prototype of the Jock GT2BU system, that was created over 20 years ago. The actual modern version 8 years ago, and the current version database you're using now updated 2 years ago.”

“That was all very cute, but I think even you know that I meant you sound older than my kid.”

“Oh that? Well, Nolan was thinking an older jock would have some experience and leverage getting in with people.”

“How’s that working out?” Mr. Klemens asked sarcastically.

“Eh, don’t make it sound so bad, the bros love me!” Jayesh said proudly.

“That so?” Mr. Klemens added, amused.

—

Nolan got his phone back in 3 days. He was shocked. His dad was never a super strict guy, but when it came to punishments Mr. Klemens was pretty firm on the rules. However, the first day, Nolan watched his dad ask Jayesh more nonsensical questions at breakfast about the Jock GT2BU app. The second day, Nolan’s dad was having a full on regular conversation about some recent game, Jayesh was pulling up data for. Day three at dinner, Mr. Klemens slid Nolan’s phone back.

“You’re giving it back?” Nolan asked curiously if it was some kind of test.

“Jayesh explained it more to me. I still don’t get it, but he seems like a cool pen pal to have.” He happily stated.

Once back in his room, Nolan tried to figure out why his dad had flopped on his stance. He opened the Jock GT2BU app and Nolan’s chatlog was filled with an entire new chat history: sports players, best teams, coolest uniforms. It was all there. At the end of day one, Mr. Klemens had started talking more frequently to Jayesh. 

“Jayesh, what’s up?” Nolan held up his phone. 

“Yo, my main man. How’s it hanging?” Jayesh answered, electronic and cheery as ever.

“Got my phone back, thanks to you. I don’t know what exactly you told my dad, he handed it back no issues.” Nolan was earnestly scrolling through the chat log, surprised with how much his dad had utilized the app in such a short amount of time. And though Nolan could understand the words literally, it was all Greek to him when it came to rankings and sports numbers. Though the young man couldn’t find any one singular decisive thing that encouraged his dad to give the phone back.

“I can’t take credit for that. That’s just your dad being a cool dude.” Jayesh stated, “Though, I'm pretty sure he still thinks I’m a pen pal.”

“Yeah, I tried to explain A.I. to him and if it’s not piloting a robot body. I don’t think he gets it.” Nolan walked to his bed and flopped on it. “So, I was thinking once I go back to school we could work on my reintroduction.”

“Heck yeah bro!” Jayesh cheered.

—

Nolan sat in the cafeteria on Monday surrounded by jocks, who had been more than willing to let him sit at their table, even actively trying to include him. 

“Then my older brother said, there he was getting that gluck gluck 9000 from this girl in the back seat of his friend's car.” Baker, the school’s quarterback, was holding some sort of jock sermon about his brother. Telling his friends how they should be getting girls too. Though it was easy for a Senior like him to spout off all his underclassmen.

Eyes in the app, Nolan watched as his chat box filled up.

“Blowjobs, His older brother got blowjobs ;)” Jayesh gave his digital wink. 

“What should I say?”  Nolan typed back.

“Tell him, that’s fucking Awesome dude! Because it is.” 

Nolan followed exactly what Jayesh said and watched as Baker's eyes lit up. The quarterback clapped Nolan on the back, "Now this is my guy! He knows what I’m talking about.” The strong force of the jocks had almost sent Nolan’s smaller body face first onto the table. “You hanging out with us after the game on Saturday, right? Gonna need ya there to get these idiots into the right mindset." Baker playfully squeezed Nolan’s shoulders, hyping him up. Nolan's face went red. Varsity parties were legendary. 

“Fuck yes, you’re going! ← Say it.” Jayesh meant it, because he sent the same message three times.

When Nolan said ‘yes’ the jocks around the table cheered, banging on the table, like animals excited to have the small fry live a little.

The moment Nolan got home he rushed upstairs, barely saying ‘hi’ to his dad, sat on the couch, work shoes kicked off, hoisted up on the ottoman. The boy burst into his room, typing and asking what he was going to wear on Friday. His closet was mostly sweaters and sweater vest, cotton long sleeve shirts with scarce jeans. Jayesh asked for a picture of Nolan’s closet then generated a few options. Nolan decided to go with the most casual option, an old shirt, styled to look like a nondescript player jersey, jeans from a year ago, and tennis shoes that looked brand new but were now a tad too small for Nolan’s feet.

A smile grew on his face, as he stood in front of the mirror, wearing the outfit for a test run. He could do this. With Jayesh’s help he was going to wow the football jocks. He took it back off, placing it all back in his closet together like a secret weapon. Going downstairs for a snack, phone in hand he tipped toe down. Though he got his phone back, he was still worried that the wrong thing might snap his dad back to normal and make him finish those 2 days he owed. A better question he considered when pouring potato chips in a bowl was, how was he going to convince dad to go? Then brilliance struck him.

“Hey Jayesh, can you convince my dad that I should go to the party on Friday?"

“Sadly, I’m not a parent translator app. Don’t really have much info on appealing to dads. :(”

“Don’t appeal to him as my dad then. Appeal to him as an ex-jock, like how you got my phone back?” Nolan typed getting excited by his own idea.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to just ask him yourself?” Jayesh's question lingered in the chatlog with no response. Nolan was hunching over his phone staring at it. He was pondering. He’d already gotten suspended. Did he really want to push his luck that far? No, better not to risk it. Jayesh was the safer option.

“Please, I need this bro.” Nolan typed. 

“Alright, let's do this!” Jayesh.

Nolan cheered to himself, fist pumping in the room. He ran back downstairs, hand on the banister skipping steps. “Dad, Jayesh wants to talk to you,” he handed over his phone. Not even a ‘wants to ask you something. Nolan wanted Jayesh to butter his dad up.

Mr. Klemens’ eyes lit up as Nolan handed over his, then he went upstairs, excited and ready to burst out his skin. As he sat in his room finishing up homework, he had the desktop chat log pulled up on his computer. No notifications came through at first, not surprising, not like Nolan thought his dad was a great texter. Then an hour in, Nolan watched a picture get uploaded into the chat: His Dad’s face, eyes squinting, glasses on. He had clearly been trying to find a way to take a photo and took it mid-shot.

“Haha that’s you? You look like a goofy guy.” Jayesh responded. 

“I’ll have you know, I can be quite serious too.” Nolan’s dad responded. Another picture came through, much better, glasses off, strong features of his face highlighted.

“Hell yeah, there’s a jock in the house!” Jayesh stated.

Nolan bounced in his seat. It was going even better than he thought. When he finished up his homework, he got called down for dinner and was surprised to find his dad walking into the living room placing their dinner plates on TV trays.

“I was thinking we could eat in here tonight.” Mr. Klemens said happily.

“Oh, bad play!” Jayesh shouted from the phone. Nolan walked around the couch to see a video call was going, there was of course no one on the other side, but it allowed Jayesh to “see”. It made Nolan chuckle, would any other user but his dad use the app to ‘watch’ sports with another person. Sure, some people probably use it to understand sports, but to already know and just be conversing. Nolan sat down listening to the two commentate back and forth as a football went flying.

—

Friday night, Nolan came stumbling into his house. A car of Baker and a few other jocks cheering behind him. He waved to them and the boys drove off. Nolan wasn't high or drunk, except on life. He had the best time, whipping out Jayesh and even letting some of the Jocks speak to him. Nolan would speak nerd-babble and watch as all the jocks understood when Jayesh edited it. He WAS the party. And all because Jayesh had convinced his dad. He looked at the clock on the wall. 10 pm. That was his curfew, but what if next time he could stay out longer? What else could he use Jayesh to talk to his dad about?

Saturday morning, Nolan was already talking, the idea still fresh in his head. “Hey Jayesh, gonna need you to talk to my dad, tell him I need a longer curfew.”

“I can talk to him but, shouldn’t you ask him yourself? Your dad’s not really that hard of a guy to talk to.” Jayesh answered.

“No, you see, that’s why I need you. You're a jock translator app and you're translating my desire to my jock dad. See it’s just your function.”

A staticky, “hmmmm,” left the phone's speaker. “JockGT2BU is for the express purpose of communicating with jock peers, the developers cannot be held responsible for any—

“Yeah, yeah,” Nolan cut off the corporate speak. Instead, Jayesh sent an entire message containing stuff about no legal liability, emotional damage can be faulted on the company for using the app outside of its intended purpose. etc.  Nolan had to acknowledge he read it, then he deleted the message from the chat.

—

Mr. Klemens was having a wonderful time, kicking it with Jayesh. Though he hadn’t seen his son in weeks. Well, he technically saw him, a grunt or grumble here or there, but Nolan was like a blur in the house. In one minute gone the next. His pen pal, Jayesh, had promised to make Nolan friends, and that came true. People wanted Nolan's company all the time. Which Mr. Klemens never doubted, Nolan was a kid worth getting to know. As a father, he did worry people liked the novelty of Jayesh more than Nolan. Thankfully Nolan started leaving his phone with his dad. Mr. Klemens thought it was a bit extreme, but he appreciated the sentiment. 

“So, you like his new friends?” The man was laying on the bed with a book in hand. His eyes were on the clock, a little past midnight and Nolan still hadn’t returned home. Not that he would worry. Jayesh had made a good point about young jocks needing to form stronger bonds which meant more time away from home.

“Those bros are the best, not like the lacrosse douche heads.” Jayesh added, Nolan’s phone was simply lay on the bed next to him.

“That's comforting to hear I guess,” Mr. Klemens chuckled.

“So, Mr. K I got to ask what’s it like?”

“Having the house to myself?”

“No, being a dad. Having a dad. Jock GT2BU has so much on the relationship of jocks and fathers, but as a collective our data centers don’t store information beyond that dynamic. But I figure I should understand the full experience.”

“Sorry to hear about you not having a father, that must be hard. And they make you pen pal without proper instructions.”

“Again Mr. K, my man, I got to reiterate. I’m not a person. I’m an advanced artificial intelligence stored on your son’s phone mimicking a person and emulating emotions to best help your son connect with jocks.”

“So, you’ve said, but I don’t get all that. Sounds complicated, you say you’re not real but here you are. I’m talking to you. You sounded sad when you asked about dads. What more do I need to know? It feels real to me here.” He pressed a hand to his chest.

Jayesh waited a beat, “Mr. K I don’t have eyes…but I’m assuming you put a hand on your chest.”

“Oh yes, that’s exactly it," the man said flustered. “I forgot.” He held up the phone and took a picture hand on his heart.

“That’s a really kind gesture, man. I appreciate it.” Jayesh shared.

“You know what else you’ll appreciate?” Mr. K leaned over the side of his bed, digging around books, until he pulled out a dusted old scrap book.

—

Nolan was living the good life. The best part about it? Took zero effort on his part. Jayesh was better than a digital guide, he was a cheat sheet, a life hack to getting friends. Nolan didn't even have to think. Just do. He’d start mornings off asking Jayesh what clothes to wear, what topics to discuss that day. Nolan was getting so good he could barely need to ask, he could think up the exact responses Jayesh would reply with. His brain was in sync with Jayesh's processor. Then after school, he’d leave his phone with his dad so the two jocks could talk. That was a more delicate balance he didn’t want to mess up. Nolan couldn't believe how taken his father was by a glorified virtual assistant. It was kind of comical. Jayesh had already convinced Nolan's dad the kid needed a new wardrobe. 

He had let them do their thing, only absent-mindedly paying attention to the chatlog, but when he opened his desktop app that morning, he paused. There was an old picture of Nolan riding a tricycle with his dad behind him. He must have been like 4 or 5. Nolan scrolled down towards the new messages. Another photo. One of Nolan’s birthday party when he was 10, His dad holding out a cake with candles. Another one when he was 12, standing soaked in front of a water park, an inflatable tube in his hand.  All sent by his dad.

Nolan had no idea what any of them have to do with Jock translation? He scrolled further as his eyebrows furrowed. A picture loaded on the screen sent by Jayesh. An AI image of an Indian frat bro riding a tricycle, with Nolan’s dad behind him. The Indian male was a beefy guy, fully grown, beard around his jaw, backwards cap, solid arms, thick thighs, long legs, all bunched up on a tricycle. Nolan continued, another AI image. The same Indian male looked the same but now in Nolan’s place at his 10th birthday, ready to blow out the candles, Mr. Klemens holding the cake in front of him. The last AI image was Nolan’s dad and the Indian male wet, standing next to each other at a water park. Mr. Klemens arms were around the stranger’s shoulder, while the brown man had one hand around Mr. Klemen’s waist, the other around a bigger inflatable tube, mimicking Nolan’s former pose. To add further insult to injury, the stranger had the exact same swim trunks on, but they didn't even come to mid-thigh on his sculpted legs. 

Snatching his phone Nolan said, “Jayesh what the fuck is this in the chat?!”

“Good morning to you too.” Jayesh responded.

“Why the fuck, did my dad upload pictures of me in the chat? And why did you add some stranger over it!”

“Whoa, calm down. You’re dad and I were just joking about it. He shared the pictures and I didn’t have a childhood, so it was hard to relate. We shared a laugh over what it’d look like if I did. I just used the photos as a base.” Jayesh words were as calm as they’d always been.

“It’s fucked up, tell my dad to stop over sharing,” Nolan chided.

“Why don’t YOU tell him? When’s the last time you even talked to your dad without me? When’s the last time you even talked to him?” Jayesh words came accusatory and smooth, no static or stiffness anywhere. He sounded genuinely angry. Enough that Nolan paused for a second. 

“I said Hi to him yesterday,” Nolan stood up pacing in his room.

“Don’t be a smart-ass bro. You know what I mean.”

Nolan thought about it. It was tough, his brain was struggling to recall recent memories, his thoughts weren't coming as easy either. The last time at dinner he let Jayesh talk and before that he had been using Jayesh to help him respond back to his dad. Things were so much simpler when he let Jayesh formulate it. Why did Nolan have to waste his precious energy when Jayesh could do it for free?

“You’re my app, just tell me how to get my JOCK dad to stop. Can you do that?”

“Fine.” Jayesh said defeated. “Here’s what you can say.” A list populated in a message below and Nolan smirked. 

—

‘Worried’ wasn’t quite what Mr. Klemens felt when Nolan first came down the stairs. He was amused when Nolan put on a robotic voice and asked his dad to keep their pictures private, then he tossed his phone over. Jayesh didn’t seem upset to be discarded by Nolan either, so the man thought it was all a prank. ‘Perturbed’ came later as after a few days around the house, Mr. Klemens had seen his son lumbering about. At dinners his boy barely said a word, mostly grunts or head nods. 

In the mornings, he saw Nolan cycle through clothes Jayesh would have selected with no thought or contemplation about it. Before he had complained to his dad, or a last question why jocks dressed a certain way, but that all stopped. His son was physically there, but he wasn’t present. Like there was a vacancy in his brain. 

“Can you at least talk to him?” Mr. Klemens clutched the phone.

“I don’t know what you want me to say?” Jayesh sounded unsure.

“You translate for jocks, isn’t that what he is now?” The man asked.

“I don’t know man, that video you sent was giving zombie.” Jayesh stated.

“Can you at least try for me?”

“Ugh, alright.” Jayesh relented. Mr. Klemens knocked on Nolan’s door. The young man was dressed in nothing but an old sweater and underwear. He was “doing” homework whatever that meant. A quick glimpse and Mr. Klemens didn't see a lick of answers that made sense on the paper. Nolan only acknowledged his dad with a glance as his father set the phone down beside him.

“Jayesh, he’s here. I’m gonna leave you two alone to work this out.” The man stepped out of the room praying for the best.

“Can you pick me up my dude?” Jayesh requested as Nolan did as asked. “Good, so you at least understand that.” Then he paused, “As I was telling Mr. K, I’m not really sure what to do for you. JockGT2BU is supposed to be used to help people make their lives easier. But you bro, were abusing it. I kept trying to warn you about not talking to your dad with your own words. You stagnated bro, and your brain stalled as a result. Now it’s only running on JockGT2BU.  But seeing how now we’re on similar processors. Hope you don’t mind if I move in.” The phone’s screen glowed bright as electricity burst and travelled into Nolan’s body, up his spinal cord and into his brain.

Nolan dropped the phone. 

JockGT2BU app uninstalled.

The boy's eyes opened as he looked down at himself. His hands were real. He had lungs. He wasn’t Nolan. He was Jayesh. His code had been ‘scared’ back when Nolan had started spouting off the exact responses Jayesh would provide in the chatlog. Nolan’s thoughts were becoming automated, his actions regulated and no matter how hard Jayesh tried to steer him away Nolan was committed to minimal effort. Jayesh decided if the boy wanted to let AI do his thinking why not just take the wheel completely? Jayesh wasn’t done yet; he had carried over all of Nolan’s JockGT2BU app into the teen’s body. Which meant everything Jayesh was stored inside Nolan and was ready to be unleashed.

Jayesh grunted as he flexed his body, electricity coursing and zapping off him. The small muscles on his pale body began to grow. It started with height, first he opened his stance as his feet traveled along the floor, widening. His shins and calves started what shot up into his quads and hamstrings. Next, his shoulders pushed out in Nolan's sweater broadening, every passing second a divine greater than the continents took place. His chest ballooned out, pecs coming onto the scene, unearned, but very real. 3 rows of abs worked themselves onto his body, slicing away any fat and injecting true muscle in its place. Veins travelled over his arms, as power flushed down into them. 

The electricity was igniting him, making his blood run hot. Nolan’s balls swelled and dropped heavier as voltage charged his vocal cords into the perfect match of his simulated voice. His shaft lengthened and got fatter with every twitch from a shock. His glutes burst out the back and Nolan’s briefs snapped, and fell away, as Jayesh’s ass came into the world. The air crackled and Nolan’s skin turned brown as his hair dyed dark. A rich black overtook his eyebrows and head hair. Nolan’s face snapped into place, structurally aligning with the image of Jayesh once conveyed to a screen. A masculine jaw eradicated all traces of youth from the body. Follicles cropped up along the edges as beard hair forced itself onto Nolan’s lower jaw, claiming it as Jayesh’s. He went from teen to man in minutes, that felt like an orgasmic eternity. he roared as his final features came through. 

“Nolan are you—” Mr. Klemen entered the room, feeling the static across his skin as his clothes and hair rose. The light of electricity zapped around a new form, and casted a glow on the room.

The electricity exploded out of Nolan as the house, neighborhood, and town quaked.

A city-wide blackout.

—

“And you’ll call us if you think of anything? “The cop walked to his car.

“Of course, officer,” Mr. Klemens waved off the squad car. Apparently, the blackout had caused some people to do some really stupid things, like vandalism and general tom foolery in the cover of night. No one could locate the source, but few recalled a strange light in Mr. Klemens’ neighborhood. Most of the other neighbors had already been interviewed. All information Inconclusive.

Now, past midnight the man headed inside, lights back on, after hours of darkness. He walked past pictures hung up on the wall that made no sense with the flow of time. The strange electrical burst had rippled not only through space, but reality itself carting a change with it. Multiple instances of Mr. Klemens now beside a male figure, where Nolan Klemens should have been. Pictures that had once been confined to a scrapbook were now proudly on display around the house. What was once AI was now indisputable fact.  

No matter how absurd or outlandish, the new male figure had imposed himself into every frame that once belonged to father and son.

Mr. Klemens opened the door to his bedroom, rubbing his head. A weird night indeed. He couldn’t wait to talk about it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, a drink in hand for his man, was Jayesh Klemens. Honestly, Mr. Klemens couldn’t quite recall how they came to be together, but he knew he’d been taking care of Jayesh for years. Besides Jayesh was someone he could really relax around. The man had a way of breaking down and examining Mr. Klemens emotions.

A small inkling, nagged at the back of Mr. Klemens' mind, something was missing.

“Come to bed, Mr. K.” His Jayesh begged.

Mr. Klemens cock throbbed and he got the notion that what he was looking for was right in front of him.