The Change is unstoppable, spreading rapidly through the gay male population, while those who first experienced it revel in their increasingly wild transformation.
Alan and Todd sat bolt upright, no mean feat considering the extent to which they were intertwined on their picnic blanket. The sight that confronted them caused their hair to stand on end and for both to open their mouths as if to scream bloody murder. Angelo and Bryan were on them like a shot, their giant hands covering the mouths of the two handsome twinks.
“Now, now, boys,” Dave said. “All appearances to the contrary, this is not a scene from Deliverance.”
Angelo, holding Alan, chuckled, even though Alan was doing his best to kick, punch, and otherwise maul the giant man holding him. Bryan was having a slightly better time of it; Todd had totally passed out.
“If you promise to be a good boy, Angelo will take his hand off your mouth,” Dave said. “You gonna be good?”
Alan looked around at the three giant men.
Jesus God, he thought to himself. These fuckers are huge.
Dave scratched his giant pecs with on meaty paw, tweaking his own nipple; his other hand rested on his bulging studded leather jockstrap.
And totally fucking hot, he realized. Alan nodded his head. Angelo looked at Dave and Bryan, both of whom nodded. He removed his hub-cab sized hand.
“I’ll be good,” Alan agreed. “Would you, uh, mind putting me down?”
Angelo lowered Alan to the ground—and Alan finally had some sense of just how huge the three men were. The one called Angelo was at least 6’6 and the other two were taller. Which meant that Alan, all of 5’9, barely came up to Angelo’s shoulder.
“Jesus,” Alan said. “You fuckers are huge.”
The three man laughed, causing Todd to wake up and start struggling. Then he saw Alan standing on the ground and became still. He raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“It’s okay, Todd,” Alan. “They’re cool.”
Bryan let go of Todd, who slid to the ground. At 5’11, he was a bit taller than Alan but otherwise skinny as a rail (Alan at least appeared to have spent some time in the gym.)
“Who the hell are you guys?” Todd asked.
“Three more gay boys from Atlanta, of course,” he pointed out. “Angelo has a cabin up the trail a ways.”
Todd looked skeptical.
“I’ve spent my entire adult life in Midtown,” he pointed out. “And I’ve never seen anyone who looked like you!”
“I’m not from Atlanta,” he observed. “I’m from L.A. And I follow sports. And I’m a fan of bodybuilding. And I’m good friends with Mike Francois. I’ve never seen guys as big as you are.”
Dave looked at Bryan, who looked at Angelo.
“Well,” Dave said. “Are we going to tell them?”
Angelo pondered that a moment. When was it going to stop? Did he want it to stop?
“Let’s go back to the cabin and have some food,” he said. “Then we’ll decide.”
“Just how big are you?” Alan wanted to know. The 30-year-old had been in the gym religiously since graduating from college and built himself up to a hunky 195 pounds.
“I’m the smallest,” Angelo answered. “6’6 and about 500 pounds, last I checked.”
“6’9,” Bryan chimed in. “And I’m playing catch up with Dave here. Just hit 600.”
“I’ve got my work cut out for me, I can see,” he interjected. “And, for the record, 6’10” and 700 pounds.”
Alan’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. Todd, on the other hand, was unimpressed.
“Is that a lot?”
Alan looked at his buddy.
“Are you out of your frickin’ mind? There have never been men as big as these three guys.”
Todd looked them up and down.
“Well, big muscles, yes,” he agreed. “But what about their other muscles?”
Alan turned beet red.
“The thing you gotta know about Todd…” Alan began.
Todd rolled his eyes.
“Yes, all right, it’s true,” Todd agreed. “I’m a size queen. I majored in bottoming at Uranus University. So sue me!”
Angelo stood up and pulled down his jock strap. Thirteen inches of thick soft meat spilled out.
Todd’s eyes bulged.
“Oh my god!”
Then it was Bryan’s turn. He had three inches more than Angelo.
“That’s not possible,” Todd exclaimed.
Dave chuckled and stood up.
Alan’s jaw was on the table. In front of him stood the biggest man the world had ever seen, 6’10” tall and 700 pounds of rippling muscle.
Dave dropped his shorts.
Twenty inches long and a good 12 inches around.
But not for long.
“There’s, uh, no way you’re ever gonna get that up my butt,” Alan said. “Not any of you.”
Todd’s eyes held a feverish gleam.
“I’ve dreamed about this my entire life,” he said, then turned to Angelo.
“You’re first, short stuff!”
The three giant men burst out laughing, a sound that rattled the dishes on the wall.
“What are we going to do with him?” Angelo asked, pointing to Alan.
Todd’s expression took on a mischievous cast.
“Alan? Heh! I majored in bottoming at Uranus,” Todd said. “He majored in cock-sucking!”
This is going to be interesting, he thought. Saints preserve us!
Not too surprising, I guess, Alan told himself. The two of them together weigh 1300 pounds. That’s more than six of me!
They were watching Angelo play with Todd. The latter was impaled on Angelo’s huge dick, which, fully hard, stretched to 15 inches. Angelo was moving Todd up and down the shaft as if he were some little fuck-toy.
Little is right, Alan thought, edging his nice, silky smooth 9-inch dick.
At 5’11 and 135 pounds, Todd was barely more than one quarter the size of Angelo, who at 6’6 and 500 pounds was the smallest of the three huge men who occupied the cabin in the North Georgia mountains. Todd’s eyes were rolled back in his head, his breathing was ragged, and it was clear that he was in total bliss.
“Fuck that’s hot,” Dave said, his massive hand wrapped around his 22-inch dick.
“Damn straight,” Bryan agreed, pawing his 20-inch fuck tool.
Alan felt distinctly inadequate, until, that is, Dave picked him up and placed him on his giant, fur-covered chest.
“Boy, you are cute as a fucking bug in a rug,” the big man said. “Suck on Daddy’s nips, m’kay?”
Bryan burst out laughing.
“Daddy?” he asked. “Dave, you’re all of 28 years old, right?”
Dave had the decency to blush. Alan, who was two years older, chuckled but that didn’t stop his exploration of Dave’s mammoth pecs and his fist-sized nipples. Finally, Angelo roared, bucking his hips so hard it looked as though Todd would break in half. Pushed over the edge, Todd shot so hard that his cum arced six feet in the air, landing in a hot blast on Alan’s back. Dave and Bryan came like firehoses and then Alan was on them, licking them both clean, feasting on their cum. Angelo was the first to recover. He pulled Todd, who had passed out, off his cock with an audible plop and gently stretched the model handsome twink out along the Eames chaise. Dave and Bryan were snoring loudly, Alan was looking at Angelo with a fearsome hunger in his eyes.
“We’re gonna need a bigger shower,” Angelo pointed out. “But I think you’ll fit. Come wash my back?”
“Oh my god,” Alan said when he and Angelo finished showering.
“You okay, little dude?” Angelo asked.
Alan whacked the big man on the ass.
“Two weeks ago, from what you’ve said, you were barely any bigger than Todd,” he pointed out.
“Now I’m fucking starving!” Alan exclaimed. “I feel like I could eat a fucking mooose.”
Angelo’s eyebrows shot up.
They hurried into the cabin’s LDK and found Todd tearing apart the refrigerator, hunk of fried chicken in one hand and a gallon of milk (being poured down his throat) in the other. Alan’s mouth fell to the floor. Todd’s eating habits in most regards seemed to be modeled after Joanna Lumley’s character in Absolutely Fabulous, i.e., virtually nonexistent. Now he was chowing down like a gorilla. Alan’s mouth drooled.
“Give me that,” he snarled, swiping the milk jug from Todd’s hand.
“Boys, boys!” Angelo interjected. “There’s plenty for all…”
Angelo shot a significant glance at Bryan and Dave.
“Although you may want to call the wholesaler,” he observed. “We may need another truck.”
Over the next week…
They did, in fact, need another truck. Two, in fact.
Despite never having had Agent X administered to them directly, both Alan and Todd seemed to be experiencing exactly the same effects the other men had. Alan, the shorter of the two, grew six inches taller and doubled in weight. At 6’3 and 400 pounds, he was awesome. Todd, who was taller than Alan but significantly smaller, added fewer inches in height but wound up gaining even more muscle. At 6’4, he ended the week at 350 pounds, more than 2½ times his starting weight of 135 pounds!
“I guess it was the semen,” Angelo said.
Bryan and Dave nodded.
“And just one dose,” Dave added.
Much to their chagrin, Alan and Todd found themselves cut off from the cum fountains known as Angelo, Bryan, and Dave.
“It’s for your own good,” Angelo explained. “We need to know what’s going on.”
Alan made a raspberry. Todd put his (increasingly impressive) arms akimbo.
“You just want to experiment on us,” Todd said, accusingly.
Bryan wiped his big hand across his intensely masculine face.
“Boy, you have no idea how much I want to experiment on you,” Bryan said. He had developed quite the crush on the femmy twink, who every day looked more like a hunkier, handsomer version of 1960s movie / television star Clint Walker.
Alan just groaned.
“You think it’s easy for us?” he demanded. “Watching you guys get bigger, too? And you were fucking huge to begin with.”
True enough. Dave was up to 7 ft., Bryan just an inch behind, and Angelo, sprinting, had caught up with Bryan and showed signs of passing him. They were 900, 800, and 700 pounds, respectively. Alan and Todd together were only barely larger than Angelo, who was the smallest of the three.
“Well,” Dave said. “Nothing to be done about it.”
Angelo shook his head.
“We need to start thinking strategically,” he pointed out. “We can’t stay here forever. We won’t fit.”
Bryan tugged at his new beard. He finally gave up trying to stay smooth. Shaving three times a day was a pain in the ass.
“You’re right, Angelo,” he said. “Plus we need to find out some other stuff…”
Alan cocked an eyebrow.
Dave grinned. On a 7-ft tall mountain of muscle, it was a scary sight!
“Such as: Does Agent X—or our cum—work on straight boys?”
Todd stopped eating long enough give his friends a significant glance.
“Sounds like a job made for me,” he pointed out.
Oh brother, Alan thought. Here we go again!
He was in the locker room at Gold’s staring at the biggest man he’d ever seen. Mullen was no slouch. A former Mr. Atlanta, he was 5’10 and 250 pounds of near competition quality muscle. This guy, though, was probably 6’5 and made Noah Steere, whom Mike had met at that spring’s Arnold Expo in Columbus, look scrawny.
I’m getting a fucking chubby, Mullen realized. His cheeks blazed crimson. He was one of Atlanta’s most notorious pussy-hounds, having slept his way through an endless array of model pretty women with big boobs, tiny waists, nice asses, and great hair. He’d never so much as glanced at another man in a sexual way. He cleared his throat and the Big Man, who had been checking him out the whole time, locked eyes with him. Mike shivered.
“Big Man,” he said. “Whatever you’re on, I want it!”
Todd Frobisher grinned.
“How much are you willing to give me for it?”
Mike gulped. He had a trust fund and a high-paying job and no desire to put a huge dent in either of ‘em.
“I can drop a grand,” he replied, coolly.
Todd started to turn away.
“Or two,” Mike continued quickly.
Todd looked him up and down.
“I can get it for you tomorrow,” Todd said.
Mike felt his heart race with anticipation.
“But first you gotta suck my cock,” the big man added.
Awoogah! Awoogah! Dive, dive!
The alarm bells that went off in Mike’s head were something fierce.
“You’re joking, right?!”
Todd shook his head.
“Think of it as a ‘service’ charge,” he rumbled, his voice deeper than Barry White’s. “You wanna pay, you gotta play.”
Mike was seriously freaking out. To be that fucking huge! What a rush that would be? But suck a guy’s dick? What would that mean?
“It wouldn’t mean a fucking thing,” Todd said, as if reading his mind. “It just means you want to get this big!”
With that, Todd lifted his left arm and flexed. Twenty-eight inches of massive muscle reached towards the ceiling. Mike had been around plenty of big men but, Jesus Wept, this was fucking incredible.
“I see that you want it,” Todd said, pointing to the full on erection tenting Mike’s gym shorts. “You’re sick for muscle, man, not sick for men. But if you want it…”
Which is how Mike found himself at Todd’s apartment.
“I’m not greedy,” Todd said, as Mike was sucking on his big tool. Mike may have been the straightest thing since God invented the telephone pole but he was a man, dammit, and like any man he knew what felt good.
“I’ll suck you, if you want,” he continued. “Or you can fuck me.”
Mike paused in mid-suck. The idea of fucking the shit out of this mountain man had him hard as a rock.
You think you’re such a big powerful fucker, Mike thought bitterly. You’re getting off on me sucking your big dick. Well, just you wait, motherfucker, just you wait.
Mike renewed sucking, with twice the vigor he’d employed previously.
Oh, yeah, Todd thought, grinning to himself. This is going to be fun.
In another 10 strokes, Todd was ready to cum, more from thinking about what Mike was going to do to him later, not so much what he was doing right then! He put his big hand on the back of Mike’s head and… boom! Todd’s dick went off like a cannon. Mike struggled, gagged, gasped, and spluttered, but thanks to Todd’s heavy hand he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Just relax, man,” Todd said. “Drink it all down. It’s just protein, man, it will make you grow.”
Well, we’ll see about that, he added to himself.
Finally, he released Mike who sat up, furious, and punched Todd in the chest. It was like hitting concrete.
“Ow, ow, ow,” Mike cried out, cradling his hand against his chest. “You goddamned fucking motherfucker.”
Todd reached out and put his hand on Mike’s rock hard dick. Mike suddenly realized that the Big Man could rip him apart at the slightest provocation.
“You’ve got some mouth on you, boy,” Todd said. “And that’s a compliment, asshole. Now let’s see what your dick can do.”
Mike had a nice, 9-inch tool but after a week with Alan, Angelo, Bryan, and Dave, Todd realized, somewhat mournfully, that he was never again going to be satisfied with anything in the single digits. What I do for science, Todd told himself, then clamped down on Mike’s dick and shook, wiggled, and massaged the straight boy’s dick in such rapid succession that Mike was cumming before he knew (and half afraid he was having a heart attack.)
“You’re a sick motherfucker,” Mike said, as he got dressed.
Todd just laughed.
“Correction,” he noted. “I’m a sick, fucking huge motherfucker.”
Todd opened the refrigerator door.
“Need something to eat?” he asked, hopefully.
“I ate too much already,” he said, sarcastically. “I think I’m off my food for a day or two.”
“Be here tomorrow, 8 a.m.,” he said. “With the money. You’ll get what you want.”
The next morning…
“That’s all there is, an injection? Are you crazy?”
Todd leaned in towards Mike. The hot straight boy’s hand still throbbed with pain but it looked like he’d forgotten how it had been injured.
“Look, boy,” Todd said. “I’m six inches taller than you are and I’ve got more than a hundred pounds on you. All thanks to this! So shut the fuck up and give me the money.”
Still grumbling, Mike counted out 20 crisp Benjamins.
“This ought to start working within 24 hours,” Todd told Mike. “I want you to call me at 8 a.m. each day for the next three days.”
“Ought to start?” Mike demanded.
“If you’re not completely happy,” Todd replied. “You get your money back, no questions asked.”
When Mike called the next day, Todd’s first question was:
“You hungry yet?”
Mike growled into the phone.
“Hell, no,” Mike said. “I’ve eaten two apples since yesterday, that’s it. I think I’ve lost a couple of pounds.”
Oh dear, Todd thought.
“Call me in 24 hours,” he instructed.
Mike complied. His anger crackled across the connection.
“Just what was in that shit?” he demanded. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. I didn’t go to the gym today.”
It had been years since Mike had missed a work out.
“How’s the appetite?” Todd asked.
“It’s getting back to normal,” Mike answered. “I just feel like shit on a shingle.”
I guess we know the answer to one question, Todd thought to himself.
“Be here tomorrow at 8 a.m.”
Mike was right on time and, as far as Todd could tell, absolutely no worse for wear.
“I feel normal again,” Mike said. “My appetite is back, my energy level is back.”
Todd handed him the Benjamins.
“I’m sorry,” Todd said. “I guess it doesn’t work for you.”
Mike didn’t know whether he wanted to cry or kill the big son of a bitch.
“I’m gonna tell you what’s really going on,” Todd said, and did so, from the beginning.
Mike looked stunned when Todd was finished.
“What’s to stop me…” Mike began.
“Oh, go to the police, or the newspapers,” Todd said. “Be my guest. They won’t believe you. And they’ll want to know why we had sex.”
“I know you don’t think it’s funny,” Todd continued. “But I think we’ve established beyond any doubt that you are completely and totally straight. Like almost every guy at some point, you took a walk on the wild side…”
Mike pondered that.
“And I still want pussy,” he commented.
“In fact, I want it now more than ever,” Mike added.
Todd looked at the handsome young man.
“I think you’ve probably learned a few things,” he observed.
“Now that you mention it,” Mike replied. “Maybe I have.”
Todd stuck out his massive hand, which Mike took and shook without thinking.
“Stay in touch, partner.”
Ryan Lititz rounded the corner by the softball trophies and walked smack into the biggest man he’d ever seen.
“Whoaa, little buddy, you all right?” the big man asked.
Little buddy were not words usually associated with Ryan. At 5’10 and 235 pounds of solid beef, he was furry as fuck, handsome as all get out, and a terror on the rugby field.
“Holy crap,” Ryan exclaimed. “Yer fuckin’ huuuuuge!”
And that’s probably an understatement!
The big guy was probably 6’3 or taller and, well, hell, Ryan couldn’t really quite grasp how big he was. Bigger than any bodybuilder or football player he’d met, bigger even than that other Ryan, the powerlifter guy, Ryan Kennelly. This fella must have been pushing 400 pounds.
“Ryan?” the big guy asked. “It is you, isn’t it? I’m just not used…”
Alan Hoekstra had long had a thing for Ryan Lititz but Ryan had never paid much attention to him—before now! “You’re really hot, kid,” Ryan had told him once when Alan had made it clear he was totally in lust with the big rugger. “I know it’s weird but I like ‘em bigger than I am.”
Alan, who at the time was 5’9 and 195 pounds of solid muscle, had been devastated, and just re-doubled his efforts in the gym. Now…
“Uh, yeah,” Ryan said. “I’m Ryan. Who the hell are you, Big Man?”
It was clear that Ryan was getting turned on standing next to so much muscle.
To be a jerk, or not a jerk?
“Awww, hell,” Alan said, answering aloud the question he’d posed silently. “Rybear, buddy, it’s me, Alan!”
Ry looked the big man up and down.
“Alan? Alan who?”
Then he looked in Alan’s eyes, not at Alan’s giant muscles.
The big man nodded.
“What the fuck happened to you?!”
Alan shrugged his massive shoulders; they were easily three feet across, maybe more. Ryan felt his big dick getting stiff.
“I grew,” Alan said.
Alan put a big hand on Ryan’s shoulder.
“If I tell you, you’ll just think I’m trying to get into your pants,” Alan observed.
Ryan’s laugh bordered on the manic.
“Trying? Are you crazy? You can fuck me right here, if you want!”
Alan shook his head.
“I don’t think the Heretic is ready for it,” Alan said. “Your place or mine?”
At Ryan’s spacious Midtown condo Alan stripped and posed for his long-time lust object. The 32-inch biceps, 80-inch chest, and 40-inch quads had Ryan over the edge and spurting in less than five minutes. Alan was on Ryan like a shot, licking up all his cum.
“Wow,” Ryan said. “You’re quite the cum pig, huh?”
“You will be, too, after I’m done with you,” he observed.
“Uh, you realized I was only joking about the fucking part, right? There’s no way…”
Alan’s expression told Ryan that, yes, there was a way.
“I mean,” he added. “You know I really don’t have any experience…”
“Especially with one that fucking huge!”
Alan wrapped Ryan in his huge embrace.
“You want to be as big as I am, right?”
Ryan shivered. It was if Alan had touched the core of his being.
“You want to be bigger than I am, for that matter.”
Ryan felt something give way, something he hadn’t known was there.
“I want,” he said.
“I want to be big…
“I want to be huge!”
Alan rammed his 14-inch dick up Ryan’s love canal, all the way to the hilt. Ryan’s eyes bulged but his scream was smothered by Alan’s hot mouth. The pain was excruciating and all but unnoticed compared to the mind-blowing sensation of Alan’s monster cock banging against Ryan’s prostate. The fucking went on for a long time. Whenever Alan got close, Ryan would do something, something he hadn’t known he knew how to do, and it would slow things down just enough that Alan could hold out a little longer.
“Jeezus, fuck, Christ,” Alan said. “You’re killing me, Ryan, you gotta let me cum.”
“Who’s the big man now?” he asked.
And Ryan started growing.
“Oh, fuck, Rybear,” Alan said. “You’re getting bigger, man!”
Ryan looked at his big chest. With every breath he took, it got bigger, and then bigger again. He looked at his arms, watching them bulge and grow. He could feel his legs stretching, his feet hanging off the end of the bed.
“This is fucking wild,” Ryan grunted.
Alan, covered in sweat, nodded his head.
“It’s fucking hot,” he said.
Yeah, baby, Ryan thought. You are totally fucking hot!
“No, I mean I’m fucking burning up,” Alan said, reading Ryan’s mind. “It feels like my body is going to, ugh, unh, urg…”
And then he exploded. Alan’s volley of cum knocked Ryan off his dick and slammed him back into the head board. And then Alan grew! In five minutes he grew five inches taller and added 200 pounds of solid muscle. Just watching sent Ryan into a sexual frenzy unlike any he had ever experienced.
A while later they were in the kitchen eating, two giant men gobbling down everything in Ryan’s well-stocked refrigerator and pantry.
“What the fuck happened?” Ryan said at last.
Alan told him the story.
Angelo and Bryan first, then Dave, then Alan and Todd.
“And,” he said, relating Todd’s experience with Mike Mullen. “As far as we can tell, it doesn’t work on straight guys.”
“Mike Mullen? The guy’s a wanker, serves him right.”
Ryan pondered it all.
“So what next…?”
Alan caught him up with their thinking to date.
“It’s revolutionary,” Alan said. “It’s going to change society.”
“Societal change can be tricky,” Ryan observed.
The stumbling block, Alan said, was funding.
“We’re barely keeping ourselves fed,” he pointed out. “Much less 10 million adult gay men in the U.S. alone!”
“I know someone,” he said. “We have an angel—he just doesn’t know it yet!”
A couple of months after Angelo administered Agent X to himself, Sir Elton John, age 62, appeared on Ellen DeGeneres’ talk show. Standing 6’6” tall and weighing close to 500 pounds of solid muscle, Sir Elton wore nothing other than gym shorts, combat boots, heavy white socks, and a thick stainless steel chain around his massive, beer-keg sized neck, as he recounted what we had learned earlier that day in the New England Journal of Medicine, namely:
* It didn’t work on straight men, period.
* It didn’t work on women, period.
* It did seem to work on self-identified bisexual men, which sort of suggested that on some unknown physiological level they were actually gay.
* It didn’t work on boys; it only worked a year or two after puberty.
* It seemed to reverse the effects of aging and disease, as Sir Elton was living proof.
“Physiologically speaking, my doctors say I’m about age 25,” Sir Elton said, mischievously.
“Which makes me old enough to be your mother,” Ellen laughed, noting that in reality she was 11 years younger than her guest.
The hue and cry from, well, just about everyone, was immense. The religious right (and in the U.S., that was also the political right wing, of course, there being no perceptible difference between the two groups in 2009) whipped itself into a frenzy until…Its leaders started getting huge! Turned out that 1 in 5 male Republican members of Congress were gay and 1 in 4 fundamentalist male pastors were; in other words, more than double the national average. The loud calls for concentration camps and quarantine were suddenly replaced by even louder demands that President Obama fund research that would provide an alternative mechanism for all people, regardless of gender or sexual orientation. A dozen years later, those efforts have gone nowhere, unfortunately, but the changes wrought by The Change are still with us and continuing to play themselves out.
The quickest and most obvious change was the complete and total abandonment of power sports by the world’s straight male population. Starting with Angelo, Bryan, Dave, Alan, Todd, and Ryan, gay men took over pro-football, bodybuilding, power-lifting, and associated activities. There was some concern that straight men would no longer be interested but the reverse was true. Football became something akin to Sumo Wrestling or Bull Riding, a spectator sport only. It didn’t hurt that huge numbers of women began watching pro football, especially when the rules were changed so that the Big Men, as they were called, began playing in jockstraps and helmets only. Straight men, as unconsciously as lemmings, headed towards sports that required finesse and agility rather than sheer brawn. Baseball was more popular than ever but it was neck and neck with figure skating and tennis, both of which drew huge crowds of Big Men who were appreciative onlookers.
The Change completely rewrote any number of other social dynamics, of course, one of the most salient being the relationships between gay and straight adolescent boys. Most states passed laws allowing teen males to receive exposure to Agent X beginning at age 14.
“I’d rather go through it with my son,” one dad said. “Than have him come home with a giant boyfriend I haven’t met.”
Free counseling, for the boys and their parents, was mandated with the screening. Within a year or two, nearly 80% of all boys were being screened upon reaching age 14. There was clearly significant amount of peer pressure to go through it.
“Why not?” one young man told giant Newt Gingrich, the stunningly handsome anchor of Fox-Gay News. “If I could look like you, why wouldn’t I do that?”
The suicide rate among adolescents plummeted towards zero as gay teens realized they had something desirable to look forward to. The trend was slightly, but not significantly, countered by a rise in depression among teen males who were determined to be straight. Marital relationships were also clarified. All those men formerly on the down low were suddenly exposed. Men who considered straying suddenly realized that they were sure to be caught out. Some wives were not satisfied with that realization and more than one law suit cropped up alleging that “she sprinkled Agent X on my Wheaties!” The Change led to the swift repeal of DOMA and DADT, especially when it became clear that straight soldiers were clamoring for gay recruits. Alabama was the last state to hold out against same-sex marriage but gave up when Gov. Charles Barkley revealed that he, too, was a Big Man.
Angelo DiGirolamo received the Nobel Prize in biochemistry from Queen Victoria of Sweden, with his husband, Bryan Huxtable, on one side and the Queen’s giant brother, Prince Carl Philip, Duke of Varmland, on the other.
“You are very tall,” the Swedish monarch observed. “But I think Carl Philip is actually taller.”
At 7 ft. tall, Angelo was indeed very tall. He smiled at the tiny (compared to him!) sovereign and replied:
“But I have more muscle than he does!”
The handsome prince chuckled.
“For now, dear sir, for now!”
“You Big Men are all alike,” she observed.
“Some things never change!”