Volleyed

by Alex Anders

A reporter discovers a town’s dark secret.

I was in the wizard’s courtyard, having tea with him. He was a pleasant enough fellow, and very sexy. He’d clearly been using his magic to keep fit, but it still felt natural… except for the massive tool between his legs. But that’s not why I was there. I was investigating a string of disappearances and all roads led to this man.

“So where are all those strapping young men going?” I asked.

“Oh, that,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “I can turn any man into any thing.”

“Really?” I put down my teacup and sat forward, intent.

“Oh yes. And I can make him enjoy it.”

“It?”

“Both the process and the state of being transformed.” He sat back and grinned, wide like the Cheshire Cat. It was a little unsettling.

But I pressed on. “Prove it.”

“How?”

“Turn me into a volleyball,” I said. No—demanded. I still don’t know where that came from.

He grinned again, somehow even wider than before. “Your wish is my command,” he said.

In a flash, he was on me and my clothes were gone. He started sucking me off, and within seconds I was rock hard, blissed out and cumming furiously. I couldn’t stop, and eventually I noticed what was fueling the cum fountain: my own flesh and bones! I was deflating at a rapid rate, and though I should have been scared, it only turned me on even more! The flatter I got, the more aroused I became, until I was nothing but an empty husk of skin.

When he’d had his fill, the wizard switched from sucking to blowing, filling me with his breath. This felt even more amazing, the air billowing inside me, stimulating nerves I didn’t even know I had. Soon I was filled with his breath, but he didn’t stop there. He kept going and blowing until I heard a snap. Looking down, I saw that the vertical crease between my abs was gone, turning my modest six pack into a three pack. And still, he kept going, inflating me. More and more creases snapped, one by one. My belly and chest ballooned out, my arms and legs and hands and feet and fingers and toes and head lost their identity and were absorbed into my increasingly spherical bulk. The last crease to snap was the one keeping my dick out and by that time, the rest of me was so thin, I felt I could burst. I felt translucent!

Finally, the wizard let go of my cock, and I deflated again, much faster this time, but no less orgasmically. I flew around the courtyard like an untied balloon. After landing, he picked me up and took me over to his workshop where he put me in a special press. He inserted an inflation spike into my cum slit, and then inflated me for the last time. After extraction, he triumphantly presented me to a mirror so I could admire his handiwork.

I still had eyes and a mouth, but they looked painted on, and I was covered in the characteristic creases of a volleyball. My skin tone hadn’t changed and my hair was gone—apparently it popped out during my inflation. I was impressed, I really was a volleyball.

“All right,” I said, “you proved your point. Now change me back.”

“Ooh, sorry, I can’t do that,” he admitted.

“What?”

“I said I could turn any man into any thing. I never said anything about the reverse,” he said. “But don’t worry, I think you’ll enjoy your new life.” And with that, he served me through his window back into the courtyard. It was orgasmic.

After that, time was a blur. He gave me to the local community college where I joined the local rotation of volleyballs, all of whom were other victims of the wizard. When I wasn’t having the greatest sex of my life getting used on the court, I was kept with the other sports balls. Three other volleyballs, five basketballs, footballs of various persuasions, even a water polo ball, not to mention an assortment of non-inflatables. If we got wounded, the wizard repaired us; if we got lost, the wizard found us—we were bespoke, after all. Leaving us to rot just wasn’t economically feasible.

And while I do miss my old life—

Wait, do I miss it? My old life was thankless. I had no friends, no lovers, a job that had lost its luster with a boss that hated me. No wonder no one came for me. And now, I have a job I love and actual friends, both the rotation of jocks on the court and the other balls in here.

No, if given the choice, I don’t want to go back. I don’t think any of us do.

The journalist put his source back on the shelf. So this is where all their investigative reporters went! Maybe not here exactly, but certainly in various places around town. He had the scoop of a lifetime! And yet, it felt like he was missing something. Maybe if he paid that wizard a visit….

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