Don’t talk about me!

By jewelbee 
2 parts
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• Latest update: 19 September. Next update: 3 October. (Submissions welcome.)

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Part 1

My name is Nick… and I was cursed.

Let me set the stage for you. Senior year of high school, yeah? By this point in the year all the seniors have turned 18 already. So we’re getting a little wet and wild, exploring adulthood and all that. And one day, me and my buds end up at this party. General house party, rich girl’s parents go out of town for the weekend and she goes ham. Lets any of the seniors come, meaning the whole fucking house is packed, but there are also some… undesirables. The type of kids who probably don’t even know why they’re at a party in the first place.

So my buds and I are standing by the window, already a few drinks in and feeling pretty buzzed. Travis is a pretty intimidating dude. 6’2”, pretty decently buff, anybody seeing him knows not to fuck with him. Lucky for them, he isn’t easily provoked. Next to him was Ali, my slightly scrawnier and far less intimidating friend. Although he was skinnier, he had a handsome face and confident personality girls were all over. And then there was Julian, the class clown. The curly haired latino wasn’t the most attractive, but girls loved him cuz he knew how to make them laugh. The one thing that united all four of us? Well… we were popular. And cuz we were popular… we were assholes.

Alex bumped me on the shoulder. “Hey fag,” he said. He called me that a lot. I’m not sure if he actually had a problem with gay dudes or not, but he sure liked joking about them. “How come you haven’t boned a girl yet? We’ve been here an hour. What, you scared you can’t do it?”

I shot him a challenging look. “What? No. No I could fuck any girl at this party, right now.”

“Any girl?” Travis joked. Oh no. I know what that meant. “Wanna bet?”

I gulped. The answer was no, I don’t want to play one of your stupid games. But I know I’d never hear the end of it if I said no. “$20, any girl you pick.”

Ali smirked, and Travis gave him the nod that said you pick. “All right then…” he said. “I pick… Madeline.” He pointed over at a girl across the way from us. Madeline. The girl who sat in the corner of the classroom where she’d be covered by the bookshelf’s shadow. The girl who wears all black even when it’s 90 degrees. The girl who was rumored to have sacrificed her dog to Satan so she would get a boyfriend.

I rolled my eyes so far back I could see my brain. All three of them were giving me that shit faced grin that said, You asked for this, Nick. And I did. Quite explicitly. I somehow always seem to be the one who does stupid shit like this. I know fighting back would just get myself made fun of by them. So I took a deep breath… and walked over to her.

I tapped her on the back of her shoulder and she spun around to look at me. I could smell the oils from her caked on black lipstick from here. I decided there’s no better approach than to just… go for it. “Hey, uh,” I started. “Want to, uh… get a room?” I knocked on the wall next to us. Right beside us was an empty guest bedroom.

She blushed. “Oh, um, nobody’s ever asked me for that before…” she started twiddling her fingers, purple nail polish and all. “Yeah, sure!”

I lead her into the room and we locked the door. We were both pretty drunk, and she had no real experience with this sort of thing so… there really wasn’t any talking. She just kissed me on the cheek and started unbuttoning my shirt.

I… was not comfortable. Here was this unpopular, quite frankly disgusting looking girl, about to go down on me and I don’t want it at all. Her hair was unbrushed. Her face was covered in pimples she somehow forgot to cover up when doing her makeup. With her outfit she looked like a little… witch, or something. Vampire, I don’t know. Those kinds of goth things never interested me. And this girl… definitely was not interesting me.

She got to my last button and I had to stand up and push her off. “Look, I’m sorry,” I said. I could see the disappointment on her face immediately. “This was, for a bet, and I—”

The disappointment quickly exploded into anger. “What!? You think it’s funny to lead somebody on like that for a bet!? What’s wrong with you, you fucking asshole?” She spat through her teeth as she yelled at me.

“I—”

“This is the problem with you popular motherfuckers,” she said. “You get eeeeeveryone to say all this fake shit about you, to build up your ego. I bet you think you could’ve pulled this off because someone told you that you could treat any girl like this!”

I tried to interject before anyone heard her screaming at me and wondered what was happening. “Madeline, wait—”

“I bet if all the shit people told you about yourself was true, you’d regret it real quick,” she said.

I reached my hand out to try and placate her, but she grabbed my wrist angrily. “Real quick,” she repeated. She then said something else I couldn’t exactly make out. I assumed her parents were immigrants or something, because it sounded like a different language. I didn’t have time to ask, because as soon as she finished, I passed out and fell onto the bed behind me. I must’ve had too much to drink, or something. Maybe the strangeness of the situation must’ve overwhelmed me. Either way, by the time I woke up… she was gone.

I silently walked back over to my friends and angrily slapped a $20 bill into Ali’s hand.

“Hah, I knew you couldn’t do it,” Alex said. “Man, you really are a fag.”

After he said that I heard a… ding, like a bell at a hotel desk. It was faint, but somehow clear to me. I was distracted, worried I was hearing things for a moment. But I ignored it and shook my head, frustrated. “Whatever, guys,” I mumbled.

“Aw, don’t get too sad, gayboy,” Alex kept joking, “I’m sure you’ll find a man. Hell, all three of us are in love with you, aren’t we boys?” He sarcastically put his hands around the other two, and they nodded.

There it was again. That ding, like it was a room over, and if I wasn’t paying enough attention I’d miss it. Just what was that sound? “Guys, enough joking,” I said. “I think I need to go home. The booze is getting me in a weird way tonight.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Travis said. “Take care on the walk home.”

I shook my head and started walking out the door. The alcohol must’ve just been clouding my thoughts, is all. Making me hear, feel weird things. My home wasn’t too far away from there, so I walked the rest of the way home. My dad was asleep in his room so I had the rest of the house to myself. I looked at my bunk bed, remembering my brother who’s been away in college for three years now. I thought about the girl’s words from earlier. I wondered if he would think the same thing of me.

Well, I thought, there’s only one way to get rid of depressing thoughts like that. A good old fashioned jacking session. I pulled out my phone and loaded up Old Reliable, the one where the girl is so hot I end up blowing my load onto the roof every time I watch. I sat through the whole thing, and….

…Nothing. I felt nothing. Not even a hint of a chub. No emotions whatsoever. I watched it again. Nothing. I clicked on another girl. Nothing. Nothing nothing nothing nothing.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought. I clicked on one that wasn’t a solo, with a dude fucking the girl, and felt… something! I was excited… for a moment. Until I realized… I wasn’t looking at the girl. I was looking at the dude. No, I thought. No no no no no no. I’m not, I can’t be.

As much as I… didn’t want to get the answer I was dreading, I knew there was only way to find out. I went in the URL of the site, clicked the end… and typed in /gay. The moment even the thumbnails loaded I was hard. My hormones took hold and my heart start beating just as if I was watching straight porn but this was… not it. There were no girls. There were dicks everywhere, assholes, inside other men, sometimes just a guy’s nipple was all and that was enough to get me hard.

I thought back to earlier that night. About what the girl said before I passed out, about things people saying about me being true. About how Alex called me a fag. About how I heard that weird ding immediately after.

I didn’t think for too long, though. I came before I even clicked on a video. And then I passed out.

Part 2

I woke up to my dad knocking on my door.

“Come on, kiddo!” he shouted. “You don’t wanna be late for school again. Deal with your mornin’ wood and join me for breakfast.”

I didn’t have wood that morning. But the moment he said that off-hand joke I’ve come to expect from him, I heard that ding again and felt my dick instantly start getting rock hard.

Riiight, I thought, trying to adjust my sudden erection. This is something I have to deal with now. I still hadn’t processed exactly what had happened but in the grogginess of the morning I didn’t have the energy to freak out about it. What I knew, or at least, what it seemed like, was that when someone talks to me, and they say something false related to me… that false statement becomes reality. So far, that meant I was gay, I woke up with morning wood today, and…

I thought back to the night before, the other time I heard that ding. Oh, right. My best friends are in love with me. I shook my head and I stepped into my shower. (Rubbing one out to an imaginary man, for the first time.) When I was done I got out and stepped in front of the mirror, looking at myself. I was really just… an average looking kid, for the most part. I ran my hand through my hair, short and black. Shaved whatever I had of a mustache, looking down at my chest… I forgot how hairy I was getting (my dad’s genes.) I had a regular old, average build. Not bony, not really muscular or fat, just a filled out body. How did an average kid like me… end up mixed up with these kinda kids? Why wasn’t I one of the undesirables like Madeline?

I knew the answer, of course, but I didn’t want to say it.

I sighed as I started to get dressed. I needed to go find her, apologize, do whatever it takes to fix this before it gets out of control. But first… I need to understand how this works. I walked out towards the kitchen and saw my dad already sitting there, breakfast ready. I figured he’d probably end up being the perfect person to test this with. After my mom died, and my brother left for college, me and him had a relationship more like two friends than father and son. I knew he wasn’t gonna be afraid to make weird jokes, exaggerate, say bizarre things. The exact thing that would change reality.

I didn’t want to push it. I didn’t want him to say something that’d screw me up too bad. But hopefully just talking to him he’d give me something to work with to find out what I want. Now that I’m an adult, he’d joke with me about shit like sex, drinking… as if I wasn’t his son.

I sat down at the table across from him. “What’s up dad?”

My dad cocked an eyebrow. “What’s up with you? Must’ve been partying for hours last night. How’d it go?”

“Um… it was okay, I guess. I dunno, I feel a bit weird after last night.”

“I think that’s called a hangover,” he chuckled. “You know, you really gotta lay off the beer. You’ve practically got a full blown beer belly at this point!”

Ding. Jesus fucking christ. That was the first thing he had to say? I looked down, almost hoping nothing would happen. It did, of course. I instantly felt my abdomen start to extrude. It felt like any bit of pillowing I had compressed into itself and then exploded outward. It pushed my shirt up past my bellybutton as it grew, exposing my skin to the cold air. My chest grew thicker too, and as I grabbed and shook one tit with my right hand my entire torso jiggled. I felt horrified. I had nightmares about this exact kind of thing where getting older made me fill into a whale-sized dad bod. I just didn’t expect my dad to be the one giving me the bod.

I figured now would be my only chance to ask something before I tried getting him to set it back. “U-uh,” I started, “how long have I been this big?”

“Oh man, you started getting bigger a year and a half ago. I dunno why you chose to wear one of your old shirts though. Do you want the whole school seeing your uh… navel?”

Okay, I thought. Now I know three things. It’s not instant for me, it seems to change everyone’s memories… and “practically have” means “do have”. Now how do I get him to put me back to normal? It’s not like I can just tell him what’s going on, he thinks I’ve been like this for a year… he’d think I’m crazy. I gotta try to herd him.

“Um, don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” I asked. “I wouldn’t say I have a… full blown beer belly, would you?”

He smiled. “No, I think beer belly is going easy on you. You look more like you have a whole-cake-every-day-for-three-years-belly.”

Ding. My dad and his goddamn hyperboles. I felt myself start growing again. Suddenly the hard, round belly lost all structure, flopping over my barely holding together waistband. I could feel my love handles spill out of my jeans like a muffin being baked. I had no idea what a whole cake every day for three years would really do to my body, but I didn’t want to sit around and find out. I spoke while I was still growing.

“C-come on, at least lie to make me feel better.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, as if I wasn’t blob-ifying right in front of him. “You have a… moderately sized beer belly. Happy?”

Ding. The growing stopped, and like a stretched spring, shank back down to a lot closer to its original size. It’s weird; I could feel all of this happen, even though these feelings by all means should be impossible to experience. It felt almost as if all the fat under my skin was reeling back in somewhere, like a tape measurer coiling back into nothingness. By the time I was done shrinking, I was maybe ten or fifteen pounds heavier than I had been yesterday. It wasn’t perfect… but it was probably the best I was going to do after that ordeal.

I shook myself off and stood up, my Dad handing me my backpack as I walked towards the door. I… didn’t want to risk something else like that happening again, but at the same time… I needed to figure out if I could get him to revert something else. Maybe if I didn’t come out as gay, I could get someone else to offhandedly say I’m straight.

“Hey dad,” I asked, nervously. “Did I ever um… come out to you?”

He shot me a confused glance. “Son, why would you have to come out to me? You talk about your sex life all the time. I already know you like guys.”

I cursed. He was right. I had talked to him about my sex life… I had talked to most people about my sex life. I guess now those memories just contain men instead of women…

“Unless,” he started joking. Oh no. I started walking towards the door. Maybe I could slip out before I heard him say something. “Unless you want to come out as something else?”

“No, dad,” I nervously said, fiddling with the lock.

“Come on,” he chuckled, “you know I won’t judge any of your weird sodomite fantasies.” I knew he wasn’t serious. It was just his dark humor, like he always had. Just now was… not the time. “What is it?” he asked. “Beastiality? Bondage? Something with feet?”

I got the door open and slid out as fast as I could. “Dad, seriously, now is not the time,” I said, starting to close it.

He laughed again. God I hoped he would stop laughing. “Okay, okay, I get it. You can tell me all about how you want to fuck your dad when you get home.”

The door finally closed. Ding. For fuck’s sake.


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