Hashtag

by screamingmoist   

Troy downloads the Facets app and opens up a world of possibilities.

Troy was ready to move onto his friends. The lean young jock had tested the app enough to at least be mostly secure in the results. It wouldn’t be a perfect science, but he knew that going in, and the chaos would be half the fun. “Friends” wasn’t the most appropriate label, either. He knew Lance and Duke through his roommate, Blane, but he’d never been fully accepted by the trio. On the surface, he was every bit the fit, handsome jock they were, but as the only gay guy amongst them, he was treated more as a curiosity than as a peer.

It didn’t matter that he’d always been respectful of their comfort level. Troy had never been flirty or handsy with the group, even refraining from the standard “horsing around” that the guys got up to, lest his intentions be misinterpreted. No one else could tell him apart from the rest of the pack just by looking, but instead of helping his case, their similarities only seemed to make it worse. Since no one could make the distinction on appearance or behavior alone, the other three were constantly going out of their way to remind Troy and everyone else that they weren’t like the muscled blonde. None of them were ever violent or excessively cruel, but Troy constantly found himself the butt of jokes and would have his sexuality announced for him whenever they met someone new. And when he wasn’t being mocked or ridiculed, the other three treated him like their surrogate girlfriend, always asking for his advice on fashion, dating, and other stereotypically gay aspects. All of this despite the fact that he wore the same tank-tops and gym shorts that they did, he hated shopping, he didn’t dance, and he’d been mostly single for the past several years. Troy had nothing at all against more flamboyant guys; he just wasn’t one of them.

Unfortunately, he’d never been able to get Lance, Duke, or Blane to see that. As far as they were concerned, he might as well have been a limp-wristed queen in rainbow trunks. Blane went a bit easier on him than the others since they lived together, but the lean brunette was still always on guard. If they caught each other in their underwear in the apartment, Blane could never let it go without making a defensive joke or telling Troy how lucky his timing was, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Troy’s sculpted frame carried more muscle and had a significantly thicker bulge in his boxer briefs. Blane also didn’t appreciate the double standard of having multiple pictures of Duke and Lance’s dicks on his phone. Those were just jokes, “boys being boys,” something Troy wasn’t allowed to be part of even though he couldn’t get away from them. Much to his constant annoyance, the trio was always hanging out in his and Blane’s apartment, not one of the other guys’.

He was fed up. Troy had actually been online looking for other apartments when he stumbled across the app that was about to make everything possible. It started as a small corner ad on one building’s website, but he kept seeing it wherever he went. Small at first, then larger and larger until he was getting full screen pop-ups for some photo sharing platform called “Facets”. He’d never heard of it, or “HB&L”, the company that owned it, but the tagline about each lens creating a new reality was weird enough to catch his attention. The site itself did the rest. Scrolling through the sample feed on the webpage, the photos were almost exclusively of men, and they were men like Troy had never seen before. While some of them were traditionally attractive, others had features and proportions that should have been impossible, and regardless of their size or shape, a general lack of clothing was the common denominator. It was free so Troy figured he’d give it a try, thinking it nothing more than a niche snapchat clone that catered to gay guys. He told himself the warped proportions were clearly just filters, and though he enjoyed jerking off to the feed that first night, he mostly forgot about it. It wasn’t until the following week, when he was riding the train home from the office, that he actually thought to take a picture with it.

The man sitting across from him was stunning. The young stranger had jet black hair, olive skin, a lantern jaw, perfect stubble, and a body that looked like it was chiseled from granite. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, and the man’s thin, blue polo clung to his sculpted torso like a second skin, accentuating every inch of his broad shoulders and prominent pecs. With the stranger’s attention focused on his tablet, it was the exact kind of candid pose that Troy had seen over and over again on the Facets app. Being as subtle as possible, he snapped the picture, hashtagging the photo with “#chestdayeveryday” and “#muscletits.” He still hadn’t figured out how the filters worked but he thought the dark-haired stud was hot enough as is, so he hit the “done” button and posted it anyway.

Troy had to stifle his laugh when the photo loaded in his feed, now showing the man with an absolutely enormous set of pecs. The muscled globes were so large that the altered hunk’s stubble covered chin practically rested on them, obscuring the view of his tablet and everything else below the muscular shelf. Seeing the difference firsthand, Troy was legitimately impressed by the level of detail on the filters. Instead of just magnifying areas of the picture like a cheap photoshop, everything was fully rendered. He could actually make out a pair of inflated nipples poking against the thin material, and see the straining lines in the fabric as it stretched near to bursting across his inflated chest, even as it lifted up and away from his tapering waist, exposing a patch of hairy, olive abs.

It stopped being funny when Troy looked up and saw the altered man from his photo now sitting across from him. The handsome stranger had a wide-eyed look of panic, his granite mountains rising and falling quickly as he gawked at them. Troy was equally stunned. It was impossible. He rubbed his eyes and blinked, looking back and forth between his phone and the shocked, top heavy stud that had suddenly appeared. Even more confusing was how the warped man didn’t start screaming in horror as Troy expected. He was clearly aware that something had happened, but his reaction was much calmer than Troy’s would have been, and neither of the people sitting next to him were acting as if anything had happened at all. The train reached the next stop before Troy could think to do anything other than stare, and he watched the man stagger upright and vanish with the crowd, his pecs looking even larger as the oversized mounds bumped into passing commuters.

At first, Troy was horrified. He didn’t touch his phone for the rest of the night, feeling sick with guilt over what he’d unintentionally done. He kept telling himself it wasn’t his fault, that there had been no warning, and that it shouldn’t have been possible in the first place. He didn’t understand how a person’s body could just change like that, and how no one else acted like anything had happened at all. He started to worry that he might be losing his mind. He wondered if the stress of living with Blane and dealing with the constant harassment had finally pushed him over the edge because he didn’t know how else to explain a man’s chest suddenly tripling in size. After a sleepless night, and not knowing what else to do, Troy went back to the app for answers.

With his recent experience, the ripped blonde viewed the pictures in an entirely different light. They weren’t fun photoshops anymore, they were people whose lives had been irrevocably altered. Looking at a burly man walking down the street in nothing but a pair of panties, his overly petite cock a tiny bulge in the red lace while his plump cheeks hung exposed, Troy didn’t know how to feel. The picture still turned him on, but knowing that it was real, that at that moment there was a burly older man walking around somewhere in public in women’s underwear and no one was even batting an eye, was more than he could wrap his head around. The implications were dizzying. Troy started wracking his brain, wondering if he’d passed someone who’d been targeted by the app and he just didn’t realize it at the time.

That question led to more questions. If the world really did change along with the men in the photos, were the people who took the pictures doing anything wrong? And if everything was so fluid and easily altered, what did concepts like “right” and “wrong” even mean? If something as supposedly concrete as reality itself turned out to be a lie, if there was no foundation to build from, what were the rules? It was too big for Troy. He’d majored in business, not philosophy. He needed things that were practical and tangible, not ethereal concepts of morality and the fabric of the universe.

He eventually settled by convincing himself that If he was willing to accept that Facets was real in the first place, then he didn’t need to feel bad for using it. Clearly other people were and the world kept turning, and looking at the photos in the feed, none of the men seemed to be getting hurt in any way. Troy kept coming back to the idea of the world changing to adapt. If what they photographed became reality, then all they were really doing was taking a picture. The fact that their hashtags directed the changes didn’t matter, so long as the end result was a world that accepted them as fact.

Troy started studying the feed to try and get a better sense of how it all worked. Whatever was happening when someone took a picture, it didn’t appear to be an exact science. Going back to the beefy man in the lace underwear, the photo was tagged #microdick, #allpantiesallthetime, #butchqueen, and #showitoff. Whoever took the photo didn’t include specifics about the color of the underwear, or specifically what they meant by “micro” or “butch,” and yet the end result spoke for itself. Was the man beefy, hairy and bald before? Or did that fall under the label of “butch queen”? Was it based on the photographer’s definition of the tags, or some larger, culturally accepted understanding? And without knowing the man, did his attitude change to match the “queen” part? There was only one way Troy could find out. He surprised himself by how quickly he’d gone from horrified to thrilled at the thought of what he was about to do, but he didn’t stop to think about it for long. He was already too busy planning.

As soon as he’d made up his mind to go through with it, Troy knew he wanted to use Hank as his test subject. He’d never been able to stand his smug coworker. Though they were the same age, Hank acted like he’d never left college. The fit, sandy-haired young man was every bit the stereotypical jock. In the time they’d worked together, Troy had never heard Hank talk about anything other than drinking, fucking, or sports, usually peppering all three topics with a variety of homophobic and misogynistic asides. On top of all that, though he did little more than show up every day, Hank strutted around the office like he owned it, kissing the ass of every manager he could while simultaneously harassing every woman below his position.

The only thing Hank had going for him was his looks. He’d been a baseball player in college, and it showed. With his shaggy mop of golden-brown hair, dimpled chin, and brawny, muscled body, the arrogant young jock had no illusions about how attractive he was. Troy had seen just how impressive the obnoxious hunk truly was in the locker room at the company gym, hating himself for enjoying the view of the other man’s solid, ample rear, powerful thighs, thick arms, and chiseled, hairy torso. Unsurprisingly, Hank was one of those guys who liked to strut around with the towel over his shoulder after a shower, giving everyone a view of his girthy package before casually pulling his boxers on. Covered as he was in a thick layer of curly brown hair, Hank always gave Troy a hard time about his naturally smooth skin, constantly joking that the sculpted blonde hadn’t hit puberty yet.

Troy was all too willing to put the app to the test. He had to be strategic when he took the picture as he couldn’t just walk up to Hank and snap a photo, so he lingered near the breakroom and seized the opportunity when his groggy coworker went stumbling by. Hank was dressed in his usual outfit of tight khakis that showed off his solid rear and a button down shirt that was about a size too small, though soon it wouldn’t matter. Troy was disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to witness the changes happen firsthand, but it would be easy enough to discover if the tags worked.

He hurried back to his desk, his hands shaking as he pulled up Facets and loaded the photo. His cock throbbed as he thought about what was coming, and Troy felt a drunken giddiness wash over him when he started typing. He held the image of the desired results in his mind as he tagged the photo with “#briefboy, #cuteundies, #allundiesallthetime, #manscapedandmoisturized, #gay, #outandproud, #nodrama, #chirpchirpchirp.” Troy had thrown in the last part on a whim as payment for all the puberty jokes, hoping the results would be as ridiculous as he imagined. He held his breath and hit “done,” his heart racing.

The picture that came back was better than he ever could have hoped. Instead of his business casual, or even his standard boxers, Hank now stood in nothing but a pair of small, pale green briefs. The tiny underwear was so thin that every inch of the burly jock’s meaty package was outlined in detail as it was thrust prominently forward, while the back left the top third of Hank’s now-smooth cheeks on display. Every trace of the brunette’s former carpet was gone, showing off his athletic body’s ample definition as he was left entirely smooth from the eyebrows down. More than just smooth, his skin looked soft even in the photo, glowing with the kind of pale radiance that only came from excessive moisturizing.

Troy couldn’t wait to see it in person. He caught his breath and quelled his aching cock, trying to look casual as he hurried across the office. He took it as a good sign that he didn’t hear any shocked or panicked outbursts, his sense of triumph growing when he heard a squeaky, unfamiliar voice coming from Hank’s cubicle. Turning the last corner, Troy was greeted with the nearly-naked man from the photo, and instead of his formerly deep, resonant tone, the exposed jock now had a high, cracking register as he blinked up at Troy with a confused grin.

“Heeeeeeey Troooooyyyy,” Hank had said, drawing out the two words as he gave a flamboyant wave. He’d been in the middle of an animated conversation with the women on either side of his desk, people he normally didn’t talk to unless he was hitting on them.

Troy was speechless. He was having a hard time looking away from Hank’s stuffed, barely-covered bulge and the smooth, meaty thighs on either side. And when he did look away, it was at an unfamiliar cubicle that was covered in rainbow and pride paraphernalia instead of the sports flair the other man used to have. Like with the man on the train, no one was acting as if Hank sitting in his briefs, or his cracking new chirp of a voice, were out of the ordinary.

Troy’s excitement grew throughout the day whenever he passed the cheerful jock. He’d hoped the “no drama” tag would change Hank’s attitude and it clearly had, merging with the “out and proud” to leave the nearly-naked stud as friendly and flamboyant instead of smug and cocky. It was overwhelming, watching everyone interact with the underwear-clad man as if everything was perfectly normal. Even when Hank was walking around with a semi-hard tent, something that would normally be obscured by his khakis, no one said a word. But the true victory came the next day, when Troy saw the new Hank saunter in wearing nothing but his shoes and a pair of lavender bikini briefs that were little more than two tiny patches of fabric. He still had his smooth skin, and he was still chirping cheerfully away with his altered voice about the new face mask he’d tried the night before.

It was the final confirmation Troy needed before he could move on to Blane and the others. His roommate would be first, but it wouldn’t be long before the whole trio had an entirely new outlook.

Troy could hardly contain his excitement when he heard Blane enter the apartment and kick off his shoes. His roommate always worked out after leaving the office, and though it was no later than any other afternoon, the waiting had felt like an eternity. Troy knew as soon as he walked out of his bedroom he’d find the other man in the kitchen, fresh from the gym and chugging a protein shake, providing him with the perfect opportunity to snap a photo without his friend noticing. Sure enough, when Troy peeked out of his room and looked around the corner he spotted Blane just where he thought he’d be. The lean brunette was wearing a loose muscle shirt and baggy gym shorts, his broad shoulders and toned arms hanging out through the open sides, exposing the modest pecs and trim waist underneath.

Troy was more nervous than he thought he’d be. Creeping quietly out of his room to get the best vantage point, he nearly gave himself away when his shaking hands fumbled with his phone. He managed to catch it before it hit the ground, deftly plucking it midair and snapping the picture just as Blane turned from the counter.

“Hey man,” Troy said, trying his best to sound casual and look like he was doing nothing more than scrolling through social media.

Blane gave a quick nod as he chugged the last of his shake and wiped his mouth. “Aw dude, you’re too early. Another few minutes and you could’a caught me coming out of the shower,” he said, grabbing the front of his shorts as he flashed a smug grin.

“I mean, I could always just watch while you take it. I know you like the attention,” Troy smiled back, not looking up from his phone. He’d already decided which tags he wanted to use, and any lingering doubts about whether or not he should go through with his plan had just been obliterated by the other man’s condescending tone. Troy’s thumbs were a flurry of motion, hammering out #thicc, #melons, #twerkqueen, #powerbottom, #thottysquad, #flauntit, #sunsoutbunsout, #thirsttrap, and #himbo. He looked up from the phone as soon as he hit the submit button, wanting to see the changes happen firsthand.

“Yeah, right,” Blane laughed, turning to walk away. “Keep dreamin’…dude…”

Troy couldn’t believe how fast it all happened. In the second that it took for his arrogant roommate to turn around, the changes washed over him. Troy watched Blane’s muscle shirt switch from drab black to bright coral as it drew up his torso, settling as a cutoff that stopped just below his pecs. The altered shirt showed off the lean brunette’s tapering torso and impressively ripped abs while drawing further attention to his rapidly changing midsection. Blane’s shorts went from a thick, baggy mesh to a thin, heather grey cotton, reducing in size until they were smaller than the boxer briefs that momentarily stuck out from beneath them. Troy only had an instant to appreciate how his friend’s original, athletic frame looked in the revealing outfit before Blane’s perky bubble erupted, the jiggling pumpkins spilling out of the shorts as if they weren’t there at all. The thin cotton was little more than a strip of fabric straining around the massive mounds, accentuating their size as the tops and bottoms of the plump globes hung exposed. Instead of the boxer briefs he’d just been wearing, the bands of a bright purple jockstrap were clearly visible as they lifted the inflated cheeks, the elastic waist sticking out above the low-riding shorts. Blane’s toned thighs had expanded to compensate, leaving the formerly proportional stud with a thick, bottom-heavy build that contrasted sharply with the lean definition of his upper body.

Troy couldn’t help but smile as he watched Blane stagger, the slight stumble enough to cause the other man’s altered backside to bounce and ripple, though he knew the true test was about to come.

Blane froze, blinking down at his exposed abs, altered clothing, and expanded thighs. One second he’d been wearing his usual gym gear, and the next he was mostly on display, with a horrifying weight hanging off his back and his thighs pressing together. He gasped as he reached around and palmed the enormous pillows that had replaced his solid little bubble, his head spinning. “Did…something just happened…” he stammered, his face turning red when he looked up and saw Troy staring at him. A part of him was instinctively angry at the thought of his roommate seeing him in such a compromising state, but a growing, and confusing, part of him was more focused on how handsome the other man was. Blane told himself the thought was wrong even as he caught his eyes traveling hungrily up and down the chiseled blonde’s well-built frame.

“What are you talking about?” Troy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Was I…I was just wearing more than this, right?” Blane wanted to scream that the impossible had just happened, that his body had been warped and something was happening to his mind, but he could barely manage to get the words out.

“You? Wearing more than that? Yeah, right. This is dressed up for you,” Troy laughed.

Blane knew that sounded wrong, but he was confused by how right it felt. He winced internally as he stuck his gargantuan bubble in Troy’s direction, the cheeks shifting with the motion. “But…my…did my ass just get bigger?”

His friend shrugged. “I mean, you just got back from the gym, so maybe? Usually takes a few trips before it’s super noticeable, especially at this size.” Blane gasped when Troy reached out and gave one of the mounds a squeeze, a bolt of pleasure shooting through him. The terrified part of himself screamed that he should pull away, but instead the addled brunette just grinned, loving the sensation of the other man’s strong grip. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I don’t…I don’t know…” Blane stammered, his eyes wide as he looked at his friend. The confusing lust he felt at Troy’s presence wasn’t helping his dizzy thoughts. Despite knowing otherwise, everything felt so natural that the altered jock was having to fight harder and harder to hold onto the knowledge that anything had happened at all.

“Aww, buddy,” Troy laughed, letting go of Blane’s rear to tousle his roommate’s chocolate scalp. “Work out a little too hard? You know how easily you get confused.”

The old Blane wanted to lash out at Troy’s condescending tone, but all he managed was a bashful smile and a giggle at his friend’s hand running through his hair. “I do…” he said, the words sounding more like a statement than the question he intended.

“You were just about to go take a shower. That always helps clear your head,” Troy said, giving Blane’s ass a quick swat.

The altered hunk nodded and waddled towards the bathroom in a daze, both horrified and proud of the way his expansive bottom swayed and shook with each step. The old Blane was nauseated by his reflection, feeling like the mirror above the counter had been swapped out with one from a funhouse as he stared, disgusted by the way his body exploded outwards at his hips. Peeling out of his pointless top, he was relieved to find his shredded upper body was as it should be. His broad shoulders, chiseled pecs and sturdy arms were exactly as he remembered, as was the light dusting of hair that spread across his chest and ran down his abs. It wasn’t until he peeled out of the tiny shorts and jockstrap that everything went wrong, his normally impressive cock looking smaller against his widened thighs. Blane hated the dull grin on his face as he swiveled his hips and watched the monstrous cheeks shake, the bouncing sensation already beginning to feel terrifyingly familiar. He looked past his wagging cock as he bounced the inflated cakes, the one soft part of his otherwise granite frame, a gut punch of embarrassment hitting him as he thought about wearing the revealing clothes piled at his feet. He’d never owned anything like the small crop top or the bright jockstrap. Wearing them with his old body would have been bad enough; wearing them with his new shape made him want to crawl into a hole and hide.

“Having fun?”

“Oh!” Blane turned crimson at the sound of Troy’s voice. He hadn’t realized that he’d left the door open as he’d stripped down, and how his roommate had just caught him bouncing his colossal rear in the mirror. “Uh, sorry,” he said, still not trying to cover himself. His cock was half hard and twitching from the bouncing, but even though that voice in his head told him it was wrong to be standing naked and hard in front of Troy, Blane couldn’t bring himself to be convinced.

“Wow…you are out of it,” Troy said as he reached out and put a hand on the other man’s forehead as if he was checking for a temperature. “Since when do you apologize for shaking those things?”

Blane grinned, the desperate voice in his head fading at Troy’s confirmation. Shaking his ballooning rear had felt like the right thing to do in the moment, and his friend had just backed that up. Though he knew he should be, Blane wasn’t even close to humiliated at Troy seeing him exposed and hard; he was comforted by it. The other man’s presence was calming, and with the panic fading, Blane was starting to realize that he actually liked showing his unique body off, especially for Troy. He turned and cranked the shower on, giving his hips another shake as he stepped into the tiled stall.

Troy leaned against the counter and watched his friend behind the half-wall that separated the shower from the rest of the bathroom. “So how was the gym? It must’ve been something to send you home like this.”

Blane’s brow furrowed as he struggled to recall the events of a few hours ago. His focus constantly tried to shift and stubbornly refused to cooperate, but he managed to stir up a few disjointed memories of his workout. The image of himself in his tiny shorts, with his expanded rear, felt wrong to Blane as he now remembered strutting around the gym in his current form, but more than anything he found his attention drifting back to the other men that had been working out around him. “Oh, dude, it was so good,” Blane said, suddenly excited by the recollection. “Like, so many choice dudes all over the place. You would’ve loved it. There was this one daddy who could not take his eyes off my ass. Like, at all. He didn’t even pretend not to stare. And, like, okay, he was super-hot, so I’m not gonna complain, right? Total silver fox. Papa had arms the size of my waist and I could see his dick from across the room…sign me up,” Blane groaned, his head spinning. The formerly straight jock didn’t know if he should be more horrified at his rapid, ditzy speech, or the way his hand was toying with the base of his aching cock while Troy watched. The old Blane remembered seeing the man in question, but he didn’t remember studying the grey-haired hunk’s fat bulge or lantern-jawed face at the time. “Bet he’s loaded, too. Guy felt like a total executive. Gaaawwwwd, I bet he’s so fucking hot in a suit and tie,” Blane whimpered, squirming and pumping away on himself at the thought. Unable to find any of the embarrassment he knew he should be feeling, he grinned at Troy, as if jerking himself off in front of the other man was a normal occurrence. “I mean, he totally wouldn’t be as hot as you are in a tie. Your tits can’t be beat.” Blane thought Troy’s arrogant grin was as out of place as it was arousing. He still didn’t know why his roommate was acting like all of this was normal, but considering his own behavior he couldn’t blame the other man. Of the two of them, Troy was the one into guys from the start, and if their positions had been reversed Blane knew he’d be doing the exact same thing. What he still didn’t know was why he wanted Troy so much in the first place.

“That’s nice of you to sayyyy…hey!” The blonde hunk yelped when Blane turned and splashed a wall of water at him, his chiseled torso showing through the damp, sheer cotton.

“Wet t-shirt contest!” Blane laughed, beaming from ear to ear. His aching cock throbbed painfully as he watched the clinging t-shirt accentuate every one of his friend’s ample muscles, fully appreciating Troy’s stunning physique for the first time. Given the other man’s sexuality he’d never viewed the striking blonde on the same level as himself or the other guys, but now all he could think about was how lucky he was to have regular access to such a gorgeous stud.

“You think I won’t come in there?” Troy said, for once sounding like the butch roommate as he stepped under the hissing shower in his t-shirt and gym shorts. He pushed the giggling Blane against the wall, the altered man’s cock wedging up against his damp abs. “What’s the plan now, smart guy?”

Blane tried to stop himself, but he knew it was a losing battle from the start. There was no slowing his arms as they eagerly slid up Troy’s broad, solid back, grabbing the other man’s head and pulling him in close for a deep kiss. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. The formerly straight jock had only ever come into contact with other men from an aggressive perspective. He’d slammed them into the grass or wrestled with them on the floor, but he’d never melted in one’s arms before. He’d never experienced a warm tongue mingling with his own while a solid, muscled body pressed against him. Even before they’d become supple, jiggling monsters, he’d never had a pair of strong, masculine hands kneading his bare cheeks while his aching cock counted down to an impending explosion.

He peeled Troy’s sopping t-shirt free, his hands exploring every glistening inch of the blonde’s upper body before reaching down to remove the rest of his friend’s soaked clothes. There wasn’t even an attempt at hesitation when he grabbed the other man’s fat cock, only a giddy excitement at how it felt longer and thicker than his own. Blane whimpered into Troy’s mouth as he stroked his friend, a growing impulse directing his actions. His altered body, not his addled brain, started calling the shots as he squirmed and shifted his weight from a familiar frustration. The act of turning to face the wall and thrusting his bouncing globes in Troy’s direction was enough of a shock to pull the old Blane back from the brink, but none of the formerly smug jock’s horror showed in the ecstatic howl he let loose when the blonde’s stout cock worked itself inside.

“Ooohhhhhhhhh!” Blane groaned, his hands clutching helplessly at the slick tile as he pressed his forehead against the wall. The sensation of Troy’s broad body draped against his back, his friend’s rigid club leaving him blissfully stuffed, was overwhelming. He was putty in the blonde’s strong hands, his massive rear rippling like the surface of a pond as it was hammered into. Blane heard his desperate whimpers and wailing moans, a far cry from the deep, masculine grunting he normally did while fucking, but even the old Blane was too overcome by the encompassing pleasure to care. The arrogant, former bro didn’t care what he sounded like or where it was coming from as long as the ecstasy didn’t stop. Even the implications, the ease with which his supposedly virgin hole swallowed the other man, and the familiar rhythm they fell into, didn’t dull his euphoria. If anything, the thought that such joy occurred regularly was a blessing, not a curse. He let himself fully relax, wailing like a siren when his untouched cock exploded all over the wall. Troy was still pumping away, though, which meant the fun wasn’t over.

Troy couldn’t stop smiling. The strapping blonde was sprawled out on the couch in his boxer briefs, finally enjoying the kind of casual privilege that other people took for granted. Now, instead of giving him a hard time, Blane chirped about how excited he was when Troy kept himself bare, and the bottom-heavy stud seemed eager to follow the same example. Since their romp in the shower all Blane had put on was a turquoise thong, and he didn’t appear to be in any hurry to add to that.

Not that he had much left to add. Troy had been thrilled when he followed Blane into his room and saw his friend’s new wardrobe firsthand. Small, bright and revealing were the themes, with not a single recognizable scrap of the old Blane’s clothing remaining, and he’d particularly enjoyed the sudden appearance of several vibrators sitting out on the other man’s dresser. Troy had watched the other man’s expression as he looked at his altered wardrobe and slipped the thong on, but the initial confusion he’d seen on his roommate’s face after the changes first occurred looked to have passed. Now, Blane was nothing but smiles as he flitted around the apartment, his humongous cheeks perpetually in motion. The slightest movement set them to bouncing, and Blane was determined to keep them that way. Troy kept catching his friend swaying his hips or dancing around as he walked, his bouncing bulge an afterthought compared to the inflated additions.

“Trrrroooooooyyyyyy,” Blane whined, draping himself on top of the other man and playing with his friend’s slab of a chest.

The blonde hunk reached down and latched onto Blane’s thick bottom, laughing at the brunette’s exaggerated pout. “What’s wrong, bud?”

“I’m bored!” Blane huffed.

Troy tapped the edge of his friend’s nose with a finger and gave him a quick peck on the forehead. “Why didn’t you say so? Let’s go see what Lance and Duke are up to.”

The walk to Duke’s was even better than Troy imagined. Seeing Blane’s fattened cakes bouncing around their apartment was one thing, but watching the scantily clad, bottom-heavy jock prance down the street was another level entirely. The altered man had put on a pair of lavender shorts, with the thin nylon fitting smaller than his usual boxer briefs and leaving his heaping cheeks mostly on display. The supple mounds spilled out the top and bottom, exposing Blane’s turquoise thong as a prominent whale tail and rendering the shorts nearly pointless. His thick package bulged out the front, pulling the waist low, but even his impressive endowment and accentuated obliques couldn’t pull focus from the shifting pillows at his back. The rest of his athletic build was similarly exposed as his upper body was covered only by the top third of a sleeveless t-shirt that stopped just at the bottom of his sculpted pecs. Blane’s broad shoulders, muscled arms, tapering waist, and ripped abs were all uncovered, and they all paled in comparison to his impossible rear. Even his handsome face, with his pouty lips and deep, chocolate brown hair, couldn’t catch anyone’s eye.

The formerly straight jock’s behavior, though, drew plenty of attention as the pair walked down the street. It was Blane’s loud, exaggerated giggle that caused people to look in the fit young man’s direction in the first place as he clung to his friend’s arm. The flamboyant display was so over the top that Troy started to feel embarrassed for the other man, an emotion Blane no longer seemed capable of experiencing on his own. Troy knew the old version of his friend would be horrified at his behavior, and he wondered if any of the old Blane was still inside, watching himself as he made his friend, the blonde, gay jock, seem butch by comparison. If there was it didn’t show, and Blane grinned proudly whenever he caught people staring at his expansive backside and exposed muscle.

As much as he enjoyed studying Blane’s new demeanor as they made their way, Troy was more curious how Duke would respond. He knew how Duke treated him, a relatively unassuming gay guy, and he couldn’t wait to see how the arrogant jock reacted to Blane’s new role as a bottom heavy queen. From what Troy had seen the world should adapt, but he had no idea what the specifics of that adaptation would look like. Not that it would matter for long. Troy already knew what tags he was going to use on the dark-haired stud; he just wanted to give the old Duke a chance to see the new Blane first.

Their friend’s reaction only further cemented Troy’s plan. Duke threw the door open, fixing both of them with his smug grin. “‘Sup, ladies,” he said, making sure to flex his chiseled arm as he motioned for them to enter. He immediately reached down and gave one of Blane’s plump cheeks a rough squeeze, eliciting a loud giggle.

“Heeeyyyy,” the bottom-heavy jock said with a limp wave. “We were, like, soooo bored,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

Duke shrugged his brawny shoulders, making a show of flexing his prominent pecs in the process. “Other than the view it’s not that exciting over here,” he said, nodding down at his straining tank-top and loose gym shorts with a slight grin, “but ya’ll are welcome to hang out. We can put a game on or something.”

The blonde jock hung back and watched Duke soak up Blane’s abundant attention, the dark-haired Adonis treating the altered man in the same condescending manner he’d always treated Troy. It was as if their former relationship as straight peers had never existed. To Duke’s credit, the towering jock didn’t seem overly bothered by the flamboyant hunk openly ogling and flirting with him, but Troy still bristled at the other man’s superior attitude. Because he was straight, he knew that Duke still saw himself as the only “real” man in the room.

Still, Troy couldn’t help but smile as he watched the now-flamboyant Blane hang all over Duke, staring at his friend with obvious lust in his eyes. Not that he could blame him. As much as he hated to admit it, there was a part of Troy that wanted to do the same thing. Duke was striking. At six-foot-three and 220 pounds of chiseled muscle the strapping jock was easily the most built of the group. He had the kind of body most men considered ideal, with broad shoulders, powerful arms, a prominent, tapering “V” to his torso, and a set of legs that were strong without being bulky. Coupled with his short, jet-black hair, smooth, olive skin, lantern jaw, and booming voice, Duke was basically an action figure come to life. And by the time Troy was done with him, that comparison would be even more appropriate.

With the brawny hunk distracted, Troy had no problem snapping a picture. He caught Duke flashing his smug grin, puffing out his powerful chest while he looked slightly down at Blane’s giddy face. Troy was surprised that his hands were so steady as he brought up the Facets app and tagged the photo with #tinytop, #minimuscle, #liljock, #hung, #boytoy, #underoos, and #thottysquad, giving the unsuspecting stud one last look before hitting submit.

Duke wanted to scream, but all he could do was blink at the purple bulge staring him in the face. Just seconds before, he’d been looking down at Blane from his usual perspective of standing a few inches taller. Then there’d been a strange tingling sensation, his vision blurring, and when it cleared he found himself looking directly at his friend’s thick package.

His first thought was that he’d fallen to his knees, but a quick, horrifying look down confirmed that he was still standing upright, just on a pair of legs that were significantly shorter. Adding to his confusion were his missing shorts and boxers, as well as the sudden appearance of a thin t-shirt with tiny, matching briefs. He forced himself to look down again, his eyes going wide when he saw a shirt that looked like Captain America’s costume. The paper-thin cotton accentuated the ripped muscles of his torso as it clung to his tapering waist and disappeared into a pair of low-riding blue briefs, complete with a red elastic waistband to look like a belt. From what the stunned jock could see his body looked mostly the same, there was just less of it. As he poked at the unfamiliar clothing with tentative, trembling hands, Duke felt himself moving as he always did, and he felt a slight rush of relief to discover that the body underneath seemed to have the same proportions it should. The only thing that looked even remotely out of place was the thick, heavy bulge that threatened to spill out of the tiny briefs at any moment.

As soon as he looked away from himself, Duke was immediately reminded that things weren’t as they should have been. It wasn’t just Blane that towered over him, but everything. His eyes darting around the room, the tiny hunk’s stomach sank as he realized just how much he’d lost. He could no longer see his counter or tabletops, nor could he see over the back of the couch, and based on what he knew to be Blane’s height, Duke was horrified when he guessed himself to be no more than three feet tall, if he was lucky. He still had his shredded, athletic physique and adult, jock body; he’d just somehow been cut in half.

And for some reason, he wasn’t panicking. His heart was racing and he was well aware that something frighteningly impossible had occurred, but he wasn’t shrieking with blind terror the way he knew he should have been. Neither were Blane or Troy. As he looked at the two, now-towering jocks, there wasn’t the slightest bit of shock or fear in their faces. Blane looked down at him with the same lustful, giddy smile, and while there was something in Troy’s grin that didn’t feel right, as soon as he looked at his friends all Duke could think about was how attractive they were. A confusing punch of lust hit him in his fluttering stomach, his embarrassment and anxiety over being so much smaller than the other two fading into an aching desire.

“Did…what just happened…” he stammered, surprised to find his voice just as deep and booming as it always had been. It had always been imposing, but coming out of his pint-sized new body it just felt ridiculous.

“What do you mean, hon?” Blane asked, reaching down and tousling Duke’s hair.

“I…I don’t know…” Duke said. He wanted to scream that it should be obvious, but he couldn’t bring himself to form the words. Instead, he leaned into Blane’s hand, shivering at the now-taller man’s touch.

“You feeling okay, big guy? You’ve got a weird look on your face.” Duke gasped when Troy stepped up behind and scooped him easily into the air. He tensed as the other man turned him around, Troy’s hand feeling huge against his solid, perky rear while the blonde jock supported him with one burly arm. Duke reached out instinctively to steady himself, feeling another confusing pulse of lust at how large and solid Troy’s pec felt against his shrunken hand. His shortened legs dangling, the formerly several-hundred-pound giant literally couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held in such a manner, but it all felt surprisingly natural. Instead of fighting it or trying to pull away, Duke settled into Troy’s grip as if being hoisted in someone’s arms was a common occurrence, and based on how his body was lighting up in the other man’s arms, he couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing. There was a part of him that was absolutely mortified at the way he’d been scooped up and manhandled, but there was a new, bigger part that loved every second of it.

“I just felt…weird…there for a second,” Duke said, his elevated vantage point in Troy’s arms letting him see his reflection in the microwave. Like the rest of his body his handsome features and strong jaw looked unchanged, save for their overall loss of size, and while the sight of his powerful build being held so easily in Troy’s arms filled him with a humiliating dread, it also made his cock throb.

“You seem okay now. Want me to put you down?”

Duke blushed under Troy’s inspecting gaze, hating how much he wanted to say no. He could feel his cock twitching and hardening, and he knew with his straining underwear there wasn’t much room before the hardening rod slipped free, but, as with everything else that was happening, the thought of throwing wood in front of the other two felt perfectly normal. “I mean, if you want,” he said, catching himself toying with Troy’s bulging pecs.

“You look like you’re having fun,” the blonde laughed, giving Duke’s rear a squeeze.

“With you two around? Always.” Duke had no idea why he said it, or where the strange new impulses were coming from. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d leaned forward to press his head against Troy’s, both tiny hands working the now-hulking blonde’s chest. Even though the man holding him was fit and shredded, he’d always given Troy a hard time because of his sexuality. He didn’t know why it never occurred to him to hassle Blane in the same way, but now, getting hard in Troy’s arms, he knew he’d have to add himself to that list.

“Hey! Like, don’t hog all the fun!”

“Whoa!” Duke yelped when Blane snatched him out of Troy’s arms. The altered brunette spun the shrunken jock around so his shortened legs were straddling him, gripping his solid little bubble with both hands. Instead of pulling away when Blane leaned in for a kiss Duke returned it eagerly, his mind reeling from how much he suddenly enjoyed being manhandled by his two friends. The contrast between still having his Adonis physique, though scaled down, and still feeling every bit as strong as he always did while the two men hefted him with ease was both jarring and arousing. Duke knew he should be humiliated, but all he could do was grin and squirm against Blane. He bucked his hips when his cock pulsed and shot free of the confining briefs, grinding the aching organ against Blane’s bare midsection. He couldn’t hold back a gasp when the airheaded jock finally broke off the kiss and he got a look, the fat, solid rod seeming huge on his shortened body. He groaned when Blane shifted his grip and grabbed it, his mind slowly piecing together that his eager organ was the one part of his body that hadn’t shrunk. Though it looked huge compared to him, in the other man’s hand Duke could see that his seven-inches were unchanged. “Not so bored now, are you,” he purred, his deep voice still seeming entirely out of place coming from his compact frame.

He nodded for Blane to put him down and wasted no time tearing into the other man’s tented shorts. Duke had a hard time fitting his friend’s thick cock in his mouth, but given that it was nearly eye-level he had the perfect vantage point for working every inch of it with his tongue and hands. The old Duke was shocked at his sudden eagerness to have another man’s dick in his mouth, and his surprise only grew when he abruptly spun Blane around, parted his plump globes, and buried his face between them.

“HHOooOOOHHHHhhhh!” Blane howled, arching his back and running his hands through his hair while the tiny stud hungrily lapped at his sensitive hole. His toned arms flexed as he squirmed and tugged at the bright scrap of a shirt he still had on, his body vibrating with lust.

The part of Duke’s brain that screamed at him to stop was drowned out by the impulse to lick every musky inch of Blane’s deep valley. The formerly towering ladies man was well aware that he had his face buried in another man’s ass, and a huge one at that, but instead of being repulsed, the idea that his tiny head was fully encompassed by the supple mountains made him giddy.

“All right, get down here,” he finally barked, giving Blane’s ass a rough swat when he pulled his head away.

“Yes sir!” Blane chirped, immediately dropping to all fours while the fun-sized stallion peeled out of his briefs.

“Fffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck yesssss,” Duke groaned as he plunged inside, loving Blane’s whining bellow. He gave a few slow, deep thrusts before picking up speed, causing the impaled brunette’s cheeks to become a rippling sea of motion. Watching his friend buck and squirm, and knowing that he was responsible for bringing the muscled giant such ecstasy, filled him with a confidence he’d never felt before. The old Duke had expected to be embarrassed, but watching himself reduce a handsome jock like Blane into a whimpering puddle was a pleasant surprise. He looked over at Troy and jerked his head. “You too. Get over here.”

The shrunken stud couldn’t stop grinning when he undid Troy’s fly and fished the blonde jock’s impressive cock free. Like Blane, the rigid organ was at eye level, giving him easy access while he continued to pump away into the bottom heavy man. Duke was in heaven. There was no awkwardness or humiliation at his circumstances, especially not with his two friends. They were his boys, his squad, and he loved fooling around with them. Troy towering over him while Blane writhed at the end of his dick just felt right, no matter what the increasingly distant voice in his head tried to tell him. There was an extra thrill at the thought of someone twice his size being brought low by his still-girthy equipment, and, shorter or not, he still had a killer body. Being taller would only take his mouth farther away from where it really wanted to be.

“God…goddamn…Duke…I’m gonna…nngghh!”

The miniature jock felt Troy tense in his hand just before the spasming blonde erupted all over him. The sensation of the other man’s warm fluid blasting him in the face and showering down his burly little torso pushed him over the edge, causing a chain reaction as he unloaded into Blane, who then exploded all over the floor. Duke sighed, kneading the gasping brunette’s doughy cheeks before reluctantly pulling out. “I’m real glad you guys got bored,” he laughed, wiping the dripping fluid from his face and licking his fingers clean.

“Omigod me too,” Blane purred. He rolled over and sat on his plump rear, pulling Duke in for another kiss.

The dark-haired little stud was back to being taller than Blane as long as the thick jock remained seated, but it was impossible to ignore how small he felt in the other man’s lean arms. It drove home the uncomfortable thought that no matter how he looked compared to himself, Duke had lost a considerable amount of muscle mass, and he felt a stab of embarrassment when he realized his days of hefting impressive amounts of weight in the gym were likely over. His body may have been well-muscled for its size, but that didn’t change the fact that it was still less than half what it used to be.

With his head clearing from the potent release, Duke’s creeping anxiety continued to grow as he looked down at his sopping shirt. Still having his same striking features or not, it was a blow to his ego to recognize that, at his current size, his clothes would most likely be coming from the kid’s section. Looking up at Troy, the blonde’s straining t-shirt, most likely an adult medium, would have fit him like a gown. But that still didn’t explain the comic book attire. He owned a few generic superhero t-shirts he’d picked up at the mall, but he didn’t think of himself as the nerdy type.

“I’m going to get a clean shirt,” Duke said, feeling relieved by the sight of his familiar, sculpted pecs when he peeled out of the cum-soaked top, until he looked back up and remembered how small they were by comparison. The look of hunger in his friends’ eyes as they gawked at his naked frame helped, but his anxiety blossomed into dread as soon as he walked into his room. His stomach dropped when he saw the step stools he needed to get up into his bed and access the top drawers of his dresser, reminding him of his diminished stature. Worse, when he climbed up and pulled open a drawer that should have held his gym shorts, he found nothing but similarly paired t-shirts and briefs.

Duke frantically searched through the drawers and his closet, but there wasn’t a single pair of shorts or pants to be found. Even his work clothes had been replaced by t-shirts that had the front of a suit and tie printed on them, with matching black briefs instead of dress pants. There were a few sets of solid color shirts and briefs, but Duke was mortified to find the overwhelming majority were comic book or superhero related. The thought of walking around in public with his small, ripped frame clad only in the bright underoos was horrifying, but that didn’t stop him from slipping on a Spiderman t-shirt and matching red and blue briefs. The ill-fitting underwear made his already oversized bulge seem massive, and Duke couldn’t imagine what it would be like to walk around his office in such a state. He’d always been smug about his enviable physique, but even at his former size his current circumstances would have been a nightmare.

“Have a hard time deciding?” Troy asked, a broad grin on his face as he looked Duke up and down. “I mean, you do have a lot of options.”

Blane waddled over and reached down to tousle his hair, still naked save for the scrap of a shirt covering most of his pecs. “I, like, soooo love how you lean into it. You’re like a walking, talking doll.”

Duke was too dazed to do anything other than nod. Looking around his apartment he was starting to notice more of the step stools, and how limited his perspective was now that he couldn’t see over or on top of most of the furniture. And he knew that as soon as he walked outside, he’d be viewing the rest of the world from the same vantage point.

Before he could find his voice and respond to Blane, Duke was scooped into the air and set on Troy’s lap when the other man sat at the table. He kicked his shortened legs reflexively, leaning into the blonde’s embrace instead of tensing and pulling away. “So what do you guys want to do now? Want to see what Lance is up to?” Troy asked.

“Um, obviously,” Blane said with a toss of his hair.

Duke nodded quickly in agreement, his newfound dread already starting to fade. Positioned on Troy’s lap, the other man’s presence was blissfully overwhelming, and he couldn’t decide if he should feel bad or not about how much he wanted the sculpted hunk to carry him around. He still couldn’t believe that such a short time ago he’d viewed Troy as inferior when now all he could do was think of him as a muscled, masculine mountain. “Sure!” he said, his cock already twitching at the thought of how Lance would similarly tower over him.

Troy helped Duke hop off his lap, his eyes glued to the pintsized stud as he scrambled to put his now-tiny sneakers on. The changes were perfect. The dark-haired hunk was still gorgeous and perfectly built, but on a smaller scale. With his overly deep voice and hefty package the new Duke radiated a warped masculinity, which was then turned on its head by his ridiculous wardrobe. Blane had been right; wrapping the shortened man’s sculpted physique in the superhero attire was like having an erotic action figure come to life. And from what he’d seen so far, Duke was loving it. Instead of tensing or fighting he’d felt his friend relax whenever he’d been scooped into the air, and Troy knew that loss of control had to be just as confusing as the changes to his body. He’d seen the old, confident Duke come out when he’d been fucking Blane, but in between there was a new submissive streak, a desire to be manhandled and towered over that hadn’t been present before.

His shared tags seemed to be working as well. The #thottysquad and #flauntit tags had both men eager to show off their altered bodies, while at the same time twisting their existing relationship. They weren’t arrogant bros anymore, but eager, horny flirts that were all too happy to fool around with each other or any guy who was even remotely interested.

Troy gave a contented sigh as he watched Blane slip into his thong and shorts while Duke clapped his supple cheeks together at eye level. The new versions of his friends were lightyears better than the old, and as soon as they visited Lance the squad would be complete.

It just kept getting better. Watching Duke’s shrunken legs scramble to keep up with Blane’s bouncing mountains was a thrill the likes of which Troy had never experienced. The sight of his friend’s athletic frame, still impressively built though reduced in stature, clad in nothing but the accentuating underoos was infinitely more satisfying out in public than it had been in the little hunk’s apartment. Coupled with Blane’s flighty flirting and constantly shifting rear, it was taking all of Troy’s willpower to keep himself under control. Unlike the taller airhead, who would giggle and wave whenever he caught someone checking him out, Duke would still follow his old instincts, puffing out his chiseled pecs and trying to look impressive. He still turned heads, but at his current size, and wearing only a clinging t-shirt and matching pair of briefs that barely contained his comparatively hulking package and meaty little bubble, it didn’t come across the way it used to.

Troy waited until they reached a crowded patch of sidewalk to fully test Duke’s new boundaries. With the bustling press of people around them, he reached down and scooped the tiny jock into his arms to make navigating the throng easier. Instead of pulling away or at least looking humiliated as he knew the old Duke would, the shrunken stud seemed perfectly content to go for the ride. He didn’t even tense, he only smiled, as Troy gave his firm cheeks a pat and held him against him, though it wasn’t long before Blane demanded a turn, and the diminutive, dark-haired little stud was handed off to his now-flamboyant friend.

Troy couldn’t believe how normal everything already seemed, even to him. The thought of an unapologetically gay, bottom-heavy Blane carrying a pint-sized, nearly naked Duke in his arms should have felt dizzying, not banal. Troy had been the one to take the pictures, and he still had a clear recollection of how things should be, but even he kept catching himself thinking of the altered pair as having always been as they currently were.

Lance seemed to share that same sense of normalcy. The smug jock only rolled his eyes as he opened the door and stepped aside for the group to enter.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked, surprising Troy with a look that bordered on solidarity. It made sense, as the man he used to harass was now much closer to what his two friends had been. Gay or not, at least Troy was still normally proportioned and fully clothed.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” Blane said, giving Lance a quick peck on the cheek before the other man could pull away.

“Dude, we’ve talked about this,” Lance sighed, reluctantly accepting Duke as the giggling hunk handed him off and twerked his way into the apartment.

“You know how he is,” Duke shrugged, his “just one of the bros” attitude betrayed by the way his small hand drifted out to rest against his friend’s sculpted chest.

“Seriously though, what are you guys doing here? I have to leave for a date in a few minutes,” Lance said, looking as tense as Duke should have with the smaller man in his arms. He looked entirely uncomfortable with the way his friend’s stuffed bulge pressed into his hand as he had no choice but to cradle the handsome little hunk’s barely-covered bottom.

“Ooohhhhh, is that why you look so cute,” Blane said as he sauntered back, looking Lance’s tight frame up and down. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“No one you know,” Lance spat, pulling Duke’s lingering hand away from his chest. “And what did we say about you guys just showing up unannounced? What if she’d been here? The last thing I need is you making her jealous with that booty, or Duke embarrassing me with his ‘uniforms’.” The flustered man tugged on his friend’s Spider-Man shirt and shook his head with a condescending grin. “Dude, you know I love you, but aren’t you a little old for this?”

“You just don’t want her to see this and think better of it,” Duke said, pulling open the front of his briefs to flash his hefty package.

Lance laughed and turned his head away, setting the other man on the ground. He hefted his own impressive bulge, at Duke’s eye-level, and grinned down at his friend. “Like you’d know what to do with it once she saw it. As much as Blane likes to call it his pussy, that fat ass isn’t the real thing.”

“Yeah, it’s totally better,” the brunette purred. “And you know once you finally hit it you’ll never look back.”

Lance blushed and shook his head. “Just ‘cause I let Duke blow me doesn’t mean I’m eager to stick my dick in a dude. Or at least someone close to one, in your case,” he laughed.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Blane pouted, turning his back and pulling down his shorts to reveal his plump pillows.

Troy stayed quiet, loving how the scene unfolded as he waited for his chance to snap a picture. Watching Blane throw himself at his former wingman while Lance casually referenced Duke blowing him was everything he’d hoped for. He was briefly tempted to leave things as they were for a while longer just to see what happened, but then he remembered Lance’s impending date.

“Lucky” wasn’t the word he’d use to describe whoever had to put up with the smug hunk that evening. As handsome as Lance was with his shredded build, boy-next-door face, and thick, brownish-blonde hair, he had the kind of personality that no amount of looks could make up for. Once you got past the athletic body straining against his shorts and t-shirt, there wasn’t much left. Of the trio, he was the one who bragged the most about his conquests, managing to demean the women as he described their encounters in intimate detail to the other two. The arrogant pretty-boy was notorious for hitting and quitting, leaving his hookups hanging as soon as he’d gotten off. He was in it strictly for the attention they heaped on his body and for their ability to make him cum. Beyond that, he slept alone and wanted to keep it that way.

All of which was about to change. His attention focused on the other two, Troy snapped a picture of Lance when he wasn’t looking and immediately began tagging. There was no hesitation, only excitement, as his thumbs hammered out #BabyFaceBeef, #MuscleMonster, #HornyHimbo, #SexyStrap, #UseMe, and #thottysquad.

Troy took one last look at the old Lance, trying to etch the athletic young man’s former appearance in his memory before hitting submit.

Lance told himself it had to be a nightmare. There was no other explanation for it. One second he’d been talking to his friends, and the next his world, and body, had exploded. The relentless flesh was everywhere. He slid wide, stubby fingers across the ocean of muscle, both wincing out of dread and shivering with delight as he felt his unwanted expanse rub and shift against itself with the slightest movement. There was no escaping or containing it. He should have had a body that was tight and tapering, appealingly athletic and perfectly proportioned. Instead he had a bare, bulky travesty, so wide that he’d have to turn sideways to fit through most doors, and so heavy he didn’t know how he held himself upright.

He was still tight, but there was nothing tapering about him. Looking down at his plump shelf of a chest and the lumpy muscle gut beneath it, Lance felt like a boulder with arms and legs. Turning his head as best he could, the former pretty boy wasn’t sure if he even still had a neck beneath the overwhelming onslaught of his upper back and shoulders. It brought a rush of horror as he quickly realized how limited his range of motion had become. Arms the size of his former waist hung at an awkward angle, and his pecs stuck out so far he could barely see over them, or bring his hands together in front of them. The attempt sent an electric jolt straight to his barely covered cock as his hulking arms brushed against the enlarged nubs that had become his nipples.

The sensation finally drew his attention to what little he wore. His slim-fit chino shorts and thin, clinging t-shirt weren’t laying in tatters on the ground but were nowhere to be seen, and in their place was a small, metallic green posing strap. He couldn’t actually see it when he looked down, but the reflection in his TV was all too terrifyingly clear. The skimpy pouch was filled to capacity by a cock that seemed to have thickened in time with the rest of him, pulling the waist down to leave the wide, hairless base exposed. Though the girthy package had clearly grown, it still looked small wedged between thighs that were each as big as both of his former legs put together. Turning slightly to the side, Lance’s stomach dropped when he saw the back of the pouch wedge between a set of muscled cheeks that were as large and round as basketballs.

Though as shocked as he was by the impossible tripling in size, the true horror came when he forced himself to look at his face. At first, the sight of his familiar, boy-next-door features brought a rush of relief, until he saw what they were attached too. Lance whimpered as he reached up and ran a hand across his bare scalp, now as hairless and smooth as the rest of him had become. He still had his pretty-boy looks, but now they appeared photoshopped sitting on the round, bald head that was attached to his gargantuan new body.

Worse, as he prodded at his inflated, granite frame and gawked at his friends, Lance felt the twitching at his cock grow ever stronger. Instead of trying to run for help or even cover himself, all he could do was grin at the other three while his fat log tented and strained the pointless, shiny pouch.

“You okay, big guy?” Duke asked, reaching over and patting one of Lance’s massive cheeks.

The bald mountain of a man surprised himself by nodding, his ‘roid-built stomach dropping even further when he heard himself speak. “Yah, brah. I’m chill,” Lance said, mortified at his flighty, surfer-boy tone even as he kept talking. “Totally zoned for a sec there…like, what were we talking about?”

“You were just telling Duke how much you liked his outfit,” Troy said, jumping in before either of the other two could speak.

That didn’t feel right to the old Lance, but he simply shrugged his mammoth shoulders and grinned. Now, looking down at the tiny stud in his Spider-Man underoos made his cock swell, an increasingly important factor in how his brain processed information. “I’ve, like, got a wall for you to crawl on, brah,” he laughed, scooping up the tiny stud before he even realized he was doing it.

“My favorite one,” Duke purred, his small hands looking even tinier against Lance’s heaping muscle tits as he stroked across the smooth skin to tweak his friend’s hefty nipples.

The inflated pretty boy was starting to feel like he was a step behind the rest of the world. He was still wrestling with how good Duke’s hands felt toying with his chest by the time he realized they’d since pressed their lips together. The shrunken jock felt weightless in his arms as he cradled the dark-haired stud’s perky bubble with one giant hand, moving his fingers to work the equally stuffed pouch of Duke’s tiny briefs from underneath. There was a wave of embarrassment when Lance finally noticed that his wide rod had slipped free of the poser and was pointing in Blane’s direction, but he couldn’t even think of trying to put himself away. The formerly straight ladies’ man struggled to accept that he was so painfully aroused at making out with another man, especially while two others looked on, an there was no denying the aching lust coursing through his altered frame.

Lance beamed when Duke finally broke off the kiss, his mouth watering at the sight of the pint-sized stud’s tented underwear. Instead of being humiliated and horrified as he knew he should, all the broad bull could do was grin as he looked at his three friends. “Anyone else want in on this?” he asked, spreading his free arm wide.

“Um, hello?” Blane giggled, his massive booty bouncing into Lance’s hand when he threw himself at the wall of muscle. He wasted no time grabbing Lance’s fat cock as the bigger man reached into the back of his shorts and began kneading, returning his friend’s slack-jawed grin with a dizzy smile.

“MMmmm…fuuuuck…” Lance grunted, working a wide finger against Blane’s hole while the ditzy man pumped away. He held Duke up in his other hand, resuming their kiss as the tiny jock’s cock finally sprang free from his briefs. He began rolling his hips while Lance held him, leaving an increasingly sticky trail on the big man’s chest from the forceful grinding.

Despite knowing he shouldn’t be, Lance couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been more content. With his two friends squirming in his arms, he felt strong and powerful, loving how their lean, athletic bodies felt writhing against his oversized bulk. He wanted to be panicked and horrified, but the more he settled into his impossible size, the more he began to wonder if he could even feel those emotions anymore. It was like he’d been locked into a state of perpetual, laidback calm, with lust and happiness the only emotions capable of punching through the haze. “Still got room for one more, brah,” he rumbled, looking over his shoulder as best he could while flexing his exposed globes in Troy’s direction. With his fingers buried in Blane’s eager hole and the sensation of Duke’s thick cock against his bare skin sending shivers through him, Lance couldn’t believe he’d just asked Troy to fuck him. Nor could he believe how badly he wanted the handsome blonde to follow through.

“Yeah! Come join the fun, hon,” Blane giggled, reaching around with his free hand to pull the string of Lance’s poser from between the grunting colossus’s cheeks.

Troy didn’t need to be asked again. The sight of his altered friends going at each other with such wild abandon already had him close to the edge, and now that the trio was complete he was all too eager to experience their new status quo. He loved the hungry looks on everyone’s faces when he pushed his shorts and underwear down, his rigid pole springing free. Just a few days ago it would have been unimaginable, but now the writhing men looked almost desperate.

When Troy stepped forward and wrapped his hands around Lance’s bulging muscle gut, the towering giant didn’t hesitate. “Fuuuuuuuuck yes brah,” he moaned, slamming back and impaling himself on the stunned blonde with a speed and ease that bordered on the supernatural. It was ecstasy; not just the sensation of his friend’s fat log sliding in and out, but the whole picture. He was the center of the blissful circuit, his overwhelming body bringing nothing but joy to his three friends. It was a totally new experience for the young stud whose previous mindset had been to get himself off and then leave as soon as possible. Now, he wanted nothing more than for his ample body to be used as much as needed, and instead of viewing his exaggerated bulk as a curse, he was just grateful that he had more than enough to go around.

Lance was the first to cum as Blane’s nimble fingers pushed him over the edge, but he kept rooting around inside his bottom-heavy friend until he groaned and spasmed, a growing damp spot spreading across the front of his tiny shorts. Troy was next, the sensation of his friend’s warm fluid filling him up sending a shudder through Lance, whose open-mouthed sigh came just in time to catch a good portion of Duke’s plentiful release as the little jock gave one last pump against his friend’s chest and erupted like a fountain.

“Oh boo. I totally made a mess,” Blane laughed, casually peeling out of the damp shorts and thong. His oversized cheeks bounced free as he stood in nothing but his cut-off tank-top, his recently spent cock little more than an afterthought by comparison as it dangled long and heavy.

“It’s not like Lance has anything you can borrow,” Duke said, stuffing himself back in his briefs when the sticky hulk reluctantly set him down. “I mean, he does, but those straps are probably a little big. Even for you.”

Lance just grinned and blinked at his friends, wishing his stomach could drop the way it should at the sudden realization of his new wardrobe. He reached down and shifted his metallic pouch back into place, knowing that an array of little posing straps and a few pairs of equally bright sneakers were the only clothing he owned anymore. He should have been mortified at the thought of walking around in public with his bloated, baby-faced muscle on display, but it felt as natural as their recent romp. He reached over and gave Blane’s cheeks another squeeze, shrugging. “Just go home like that,” he said, not even sure himself whether or not he was being serious. A part of his brain told him it was a bad idea to walk around entirely naked in public, but the other part liked seeing Blane naked, and he couldn’t get the two sides to agree.

“Dude, don’t give him any ideas,” Duke said, rolling his eyes. “It’s hard enough to keep his pants on as-is.”

“And what do you know about pants?” Blane asked, his cheeks bouncing and his cock swinging as he jutted his hips to the side and rested a balled fist against them. “Other than, like, you look waaaaaay better without them,” he said as he reached down and tousled Duke’s hair.

“Whatever, man. It wouldn’t be the first time you walked home a mess,” the short stud laughed, leaning into Blane’s hand instead of pulling away.

“You dudes can stay here,” Lance offered, his eyes momentarily going wide as he took a lumbering step forward, his plodding body feeling like a mountain shifting against itself.

Blane stroked one of Lance’s inflated pecs and shook his head. “Baby, you can’t even fit in your bed, let alone all of us.”

“Just sleep on top of me,” Lance said, as if it should have been obvious. For someone who never liked sharing his bed, he was surprised at how eager he was to have his three friends slumbering on top of his mammoth frame.

“Sounds fun to me,” Duke said, nodding up at Lance and lifting his arms as a sign for the big man to scoop him up.

Troy sighed contentedly as he watched his friends settle into their new dynamic, his head spinning as he thought about where they’d started and where they’d ended. He was already having a hard time picturing the trio as their formerly straight counterparts, and if the guys themselves had any recollection it didn’t show. A part of him wanted to ask, but he knew that it ultimately didn’t matter. They seemed perfectly happy with their new reality, and as far as the rest of the world was concerned this was normal for them, not the lives they’d left behind. “We’ll let you guys do that,” he said, wrapping his arms around Blane’s trim waist from behind and resting his head on his friend’s shoulder. “We have perfectly comfortable beds back at our place.”

“We have your perfectly comfortable bed,” Blane giggled, wiggling his cheeks against the front of Troy’s shorts. “You’re, like, not getting rid of me that easy.”

Troy nibbled on Blane’s ear, his hands drifting up the other man’s ripped abs. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, still loving the formerly smug stud’s flamboyant new attitude. He watched his friend slip the cum-soaked shorts back on, seemingly unbothered by the way the damp front outlined his impressive cock. He wedged the thong into the side of his waistband, letting it hang free as he walked.

“Okay babies, text us in the morning,” Blane said, giving Lance and Duke quick pecks on the cheek.

Troy waved and went to leave, but was quickly pulled back to do the same by his two friends.

His cock was already twitching at the thought of Duke’s ripped, tiny frame nestled against Lance’s impossible bulk, but as much as he wanted to stay he knew there would be plenty of opportunities in the future. This had all started because the three of them were always hanging around his place, only now the idea didn’t seem so bad.

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