Description Sure, making other guys’ wishes come true is great. But the powers that be don’t seem to realize what a drag it is for everyone else’s fantasies to come true except your own.
|Updated||01 Jan 2013|
I’m starting to hate my job.
Sure, making other guys’ wishes come true is great. I get to watch as their fantasies come true, though I’m not allowed to stick around for thank-yous. But the powers that be don’t seem to realize what a drag it is for everyone else’s fantasies to come true except your own.
I’m an adept. It’s part of the curriculum at the University of Magic, somewhere between novice and associate sorcerer. In your third year, after being stuck in a drafty castle smack in the middle of an enchanted forest that no one ever visits, you go out into the world and grant wishes. Of course, it’s not just spreading happiness willy nilly—no, that’d be simple. No, we have to very carefully select our candidates based on how deserving they are and we get graded on quality of our choice and of our solution. Man, if you just hand out wishes you really catch it back at the castle. And if you do it too many times, an adept is thrown out into the real world, bereft of magic—and imbued with a powerful desire for the very gifts he’d been handing out. How’s that for retribution!
I’ve been doing pretty good because I’ve been sticking to what I know all too well: young gay guys who want to get bigger.
You all those stories you read where mysterious strangers show up after someone does a good deed or saves someone’s life or gets beaten up at school? They always have a knowing glance and have strange sugar packets or funny-looking pills to hand over with a wink and a smile? That’s me. Now, I know a lot of the time it says that the stranger was an old hag or something like that, but honestly sometimes you’ve got to use a disguise. A suspicious kid might believe a cackling crone has magical powers before he thinks the same of a tall, scrawny-looking redhead Chelsea boy from Buffalo.
Sometimes if I plan it right I can go as myself. I had one a couple weeks ago. I was hanging out in a bar in Chicago, keeping my eye on a twenty-year-old kid I’d spotted. I’ve developed a real knack, a sixth-sense kind of thing, for spotting righteous guys who desperately want to change their bodies—they send out waves on some frequency I’ve learned to pick up on. This guy, Evan, was bathing the place in it, but no one could tell but me. Not that he was bad looking. He was about my height and weedy, with a cute face and straight black hair. His arms and legs were long and you could see stark definition in his chest and shoulders through his tee but no mass—he was one of those superfast-metabolism types who struggle for every pound of muscle. I knew he would look damned hot bigger, and as I stood off to the side, watching him dance energetically, I started to get really, really, surprisingly hard in my jeans imagining how he’d look—though in truth I wasn’t sure exactly what he would wish for. Strangely enough he glanced over at that very moment and saw me through the crowd. He smiled slightly.
I held his gaze, my heart pounding. This was my chance to let him know I’m magic, in advance of the actual gift. That way he’d come to me, letting himself hope. Even as he watched, I smiled back, and vanished.
I was still standing there, invisible, and though I’d have to move and reappear before someone in the churning, hormone-laced crowd bumped into me, I stayed long enough to watch his jaw drop slightly. He stopped dancing. His eyes darted around, and he slowly made his way toward me through the tight, roiling throng.
I met him partway. I could feel his wish-desire had intensified. He had seen magic, now it seemed possible, just like the stories. As for me, I was engulfed in his desire as I drew near him and kissed him on the lips, still invisible. I was mixing business in pleasure, as the humans say, but I certainly wasn’t going to stop myself. He was stunned for a half-second, then started to kiss back. Just then I broke away before he could grab me and lost myself in the crowd, reappearing once I was out of sight.
This was a good kid, and a perfect fit for my work. I knew it instinctively. Still I couldn’t just give it to him, much as I wanted to. He had to do something first, or I’d get points off for the assignment. I’d been watching him for two weeks, waiting. Pretty soon I’d have to think about giving up and move on.
He left the club late, alone and pensive, and started walking up the deserted streets. I left right behind him, following discreetly. He seemed to be wandering into darker streets, away from where I knew his apartment to be. Street people eyed us suspiciously. Was he not paying attention to where he was going? I thought about breaking cover and speaking to him, but I hung back, awaiting events.
After about twenty minutes he turned a corner and stopped. I stopped too, my heart pounding. It was very quit, on distant noises of cars and sirens. In my mind I reached my vision around the corner to see what he was seeing.
There, on a dark side street full of trash and newspapers, two tank-topped street toughs were mugging a another young guy, a gangly black kid. He was down on the ground, moaning, while one guy kicked him in the kidneys. The other one was going through his wallet.
Evan stood there staring for a minute, then called attention to himself. “Stop!” he yelled, his voice quavering. Then, more firmly: “Leave him alone!”
In my around-the-corner vision I could see the young black kid open his eyes, staring up hopefully at the newcomer. The criminals, however, eyed him derisively, more annoyed at being interrupted than afraid of being caught. One of them pulled out a knife, which flashed in the pale moonlight.
My heart was in my mouth, but Evan stood firm. The muggers stepped over their victim, kicking him one last time, and advanced toward my friend.
Fuck, I thought. I have to help. I raced around the corner, but the toughs were already on him, and even as I grabbed the two attackers the one with the knife stabbed Evan in the guts. He screamed in pain and crumpled to the ground.
A blazing fury tore through me and without even thinking about what I was doing I fried the fuckers. Seconds later nothing was left of the two criminals but ashes and bones, which I kicked contemptuously into the gutter.
I bent down by Evan, still saturated with anger. He’d already lost a lot of blood. He was conscious, barely, and when he saw me he smiled. “I knew it,” he said weakly. “I knew I had a guardian angel.” He closed his eyes.
“Crap!” I yelled. Quickly I pressed me hand against the wound. I felt the violated organs and arteries and sealed them one by one, then closed the wound, cursing myself the whole time for being too slow to intervene (though I wasn’t supposed intervene at all!). I felt him stabilize—he was going to be OK.
“Evan,” I whispered, “what do you want? What is your fantasy?”
Evan kept his eyes closed. He licked his lips. “All my life,” he breathed, “I’ve been small and scrawny.” He swallowed and opened his eyes and looked deep into mine. “I don’t want to be scrawny any more.”
I felt responsible for what had happened—if I had been a second earlier he would never have felt that pain. I was going to make him the least scrawny guy on the planet.
I let my magic flow through his body, suffusing his every cell, letting it saturate him; then I draw my hands away from his warm skin and clasped them together, waiting for the slow reaction. In the darkness of the deserted street he seemed to glow very slightly.
“Is he going to be all right?” wheezed a voice.
I’d forgotten about the victim! I turned around and saw him on his hands and knees only a few feet away. He was about Evan’s age and of similar build, though probably a couple inches taller; his hands looked very broad splayed on the sidewalk pavement. He’d crawled over to try to help, I guessed. I wondered if he had overheard our conversation.
“He needs rest,” I said.
“My place is near here,” he said softly. But he collapsed onto his back as he spoke. He seemed to realize he might lose consciousness, so he whispered the address and his name. Jesse Carter. His head dropped lightly to the concrete sidewalk.
I moved over to him and knelt next to him, placing my hand on his torso.
There was extensive internal injury—it took me nearly five minutes to heal him. His eyes were closed, but as I worked his brows knit, as if he could feel me working on him, mending him, my magic sliding through his injured body.
As I was finishing he opened his eyes and spoke in a cracked voice. “I want it too,” he said softly. “What he asked for. I want it too.”
My heart started pounding. He wasn’t supposed to know, and he certainly wasn’t supposed to get a wish! Even as I thought this, though, I felt his radiation of desire for a new body wash over me, just as strong as Evan’s. I realized I hadn’t felt it before because it had been masked by his terror.
I didn’t really have to think about it too hard. If I lose points, I thought, then fuck it! I nodded. Jesse smiled, and closed his eyes again. I pressed my hands against the boy’s skin and pushed potent new magic through his body, nearly draining my reserve. When I stood up, I felt a little dizzy.
I turned around. Evan was already standing, though he looked a little shaky himself. I saw with some gratification that the change was already starting—his tall, tight body was starting to fill out. An inch of sock had appeared at his ankles. And his tee was now starting to look snug across his rounder-looking pecs and stretched across the peaks of his shoulders.
“What’s going on?” he asked blearily. Then he recognized me and slowly grinned.
I smiled back awkwardly. I should have been gone by now. But I couldn’t just leave these guys on the street. “Help me pick him up,” I said, nodding to the semiconscious Jesse. “We’ve got to take him home.” Evan nodded, but instead of moving to take his legs or his shoulders he bent to pick Jesse up in his arms.
“No, wait—” I said, anxious. “You’re still recovering—”
But Evan slowly lifted the prone young man in his arms, straightening his legs and finally straightening upright, and I watched concerned and fascinated as his muscles bulged and boiled all over his body, growing to accommodate the strain. I thought frantically that no one I’d gifted had performed physical labor during the transformation. I wasn’t sure what the effect would be!
As he straightened up his legs rippled, muscle after muscle expanding under unexpected strain and them growing some more, then condensing into a new larger, firm size, then rippling more. His biceps raged and hardened and bulged and grew, and his shoulders popped and expanded, and his forearms and triceps swelled. His pecs grew like balloons being blown up, then settled into a new, larger, firm shape, then expanded some more. All of this was happening a good deal faster than the normal transformation, which was supposed to take hours.
Jesse’s body shifted in his arms, as if growing lighter. But Evan looked exhausted and worn. I wasn’t even sure if he could feel the transformation taking place. Part of me was watching fascinated, and even aroused—I’d been right in thinking Evan would be fucking awesome with muscle. But in the front of my mind I was concerned for someone I now realized I cared deeply about.
I moved toward him and said, “Hold on.” He nodded, and I noticed his neck expand a bit. His black tee shirt was now skin tight and I heard a couple of rips starting—the muscle explosion was spreading to his lats even as his pecs continued to boil and expand. The muscle growth was too much for his weakened body though—much longer and Evan would collapse here on the street.
I used the last of my own energy to shift us directly to the apartment Jesse had mentioned.
Evan started at the sudden change in venue, nearly dropping Jesse. Everything was swimming for me, and I couldn’t see much in the cramped, darkened apartment, but I could make out a bedroom off to the right. “In here,” I said, guiding Evan by the elbow. We moved into the little bedroom, and Evan lay Jesse carefully on the bed. Then we both lay down next to him exhausted. Slowly we drifted off together into darkness.
In my dream I was in an elevator, going up and up and up in an infinite building. I felt warmth all around me. Body heat. I turned to my left, and there was Evan, gloriously naked, already in the full throes of a muscle metamorphosis. He was already huge—his shoulders were already twice as wide as mine. His head was a full foot and a half above mine, and I was staring into pecs bigger than my head, mere inches away from me, and they were rippling, expanding, growing toward me. I reached out with a tentative hand and touched them. They were hard as steel, yet velvety soft and smooth to the touch, and I could feel the racing energies coursing through them as they grew, expanding with every pulse that shot through them.
Evan was looking down at me, grinning blindingly, his ice blue eyes twinkling.
I glanced over his body and it was all the same way. His shoulders looked as wide as I was tall. His arms were weighted with rippling muscle, held at an angle thanks to soaring lats pounding them out from his torso. His legs were massive and long, a thrilling combination, and his feet were each bigger than two of mine. I realized I was beyond aroused, my cock swelling to meet my mood until it burst the buttons on my 501 jeans, hanging perfectly stiff and obscenely huge in front of me. I felt the pleasant weight and urgent need in my groin: it was much larger than I’d ever let it become, four fistfuls at least and thicker than my forearm—though Evan’s was twice as big in all dimensions, a towering colossus of man-meat obscuring most of his hard, luscious abs, slick over its entire surface with precum.
I felt something touch my back and swung around. It was Jesse.
Jesse was in a similar state, as big as Evan and growing even faster. His bright eyes were glancing back and forth between me, Evan, and his own glorious transformation, glittering with ecstasy and lust. He had started out lankier than Evan, and his hands still looked startlingly broad and his arms and legs still looked beautifully long and his hugely muscled body still looked lithe, as if he were the muscle god of dance. His abs looked tremendously long—it looked like he had a twelve pack. Though as with Evan I couldn’t see much of them. He must have started out with a cock that was already huge, I realized. Long ago I’d set up my magic so that cocks didn’t get much bigger than a foot and a half long, and anyone whose cock was already pretty damn big—meaning it wouldn’t grow much—I compensated for by giving them what Jesse proudly sported now: a second huge cock, as big and hard and sensual as the first, more than doubling the lucky recipient’s erotic input. But Jesse and Evan were growing far beyond what I normally doled out, and Jesse’s two bulging, burgeoning, tumescent power cocks hadn’t stopped at a foot and a half by any means. Both of these luscious growing dongs were enormous now, bigger than Evan’s, pressed hard against Jesse’s massive basketball pecs.
Both men were gargantuan now, their heads brushing the ceiling of the elevator car, but what amazed me even more was that they were growing toward me, their broad thick backs against the walls. They were slowly filling up the car—and I was in between them.
Aroused as I was I realized I had to do something to avoid being crushed (albeit in the most erotic manner possible).
In moments I was looking Jesse in the eye, my body freighted with muscle to match either of these studs. Jesse grinned at me as our incredible pecs pressed against each other, his muscle cocks squeezing imperfectly into the crevice between them, the tips emerging now above them. We leaned forward and kissed across our pecs, our tongues long and muscular as well. I wrapped a massive hand around each of his massive shafts, my fingers not coming close to touching. I felt a thrill in my own huge cock and a spurt of hot precum as I felt the fiery warmth of his massive organs throbbing in my hands.
I felt Evan pressed hard against my back, his insanely large pecs pushing against me as they continued to grow, his incredible colossus cock pressed against my ass and lower back. His big young hands wrapped around and eagerly explored my body, and Jesse’s as well, and Jesse’s broad hands started to do the same as I stroked his throbbing cocks, my senses thrilling to the touch of four muscle gods hands exploring my own fantasy body and each other’s. The elevator cars was saturated with rich man smell. It was nearly filled with us as we grew and expanded.
I bent my head and wrapped my mouth around the cockhead on the right, and Jesse eagerly took the other one. At the same moment of intense pleasure I realized that Evan’s cock was in my ass, pushing deeper and deeper with every stroke, and I knew it was growing inside me. My own cock pounded in Evan’s meaty hands as Jesse’s boners swelled in my hands and filled my mouth. Our growth was accelerating with our incredible passing, and as we got closer and closer to orgasm we were too big for the car, and our steel- hard, muscle-packed bodies pushed out the sides of the elevator like and exploding tin can, our mere size pushing with surprising force against the sides of the shaft, Jesse’s enormous pecs pressed almost painfully against mine while Evan’s throbbing pecs drove into me from the other direction, and as the elevator squealed in agony we came together in enormous bursts, Evan’s stupendous cock ripping me open and pounding white hot cum deep inside me while Jesse’s still growing cocks swelled so much they pushed my hands apart, and the one I was sucking pushed ruthlessly into my throat, shooting quarts of burning cum into me. I came so hard that my senses were overpowered, the pleasure was too much to endure, and I blacked out.
I awoke with a start.
It wasn’t all a dream. Not exactly.
Underneath me were the crushed remains of Jesse’s bed.
Directly in front of me, his face a few inches from mine, was Jesse, still sleeping. He was at least as big as he’d been in the dream. Lying on his side he was as big as the room was long, his head pressed against the wall behind my head (as was mine, I realized) and his giant feet pressed firmly against the far wall (mine too!). His arms were wrapped around me, our massive pecs were pressed together, and two unbelievably thick and powerful cocks pressed them apart from, their heads rising majestically above our pecs as if they were flowering from the muscle.
I turned my head and nearly swooned. Behind me was Evan, also still asleep, his body blown up to outrageous proportions, and I could think only that he was stunningly beautiful. I realized with a skip of my heart beat that he was even bigger that Jesse and I were—much bigger! Where we’d been stopped in our growth by the far wall of the bedroom, Evan’s feet had found the door… His growth had been stopped by the next wall it encountered—the far wall of the apartment near the front door, down a hallway large enough for a coat closet. In consequence, Evan was several feet taller than we were, and where our feet pressed against the bedroom wall, Evan’s legs pushed out of the little bedroom—nearly filling the doorway with his incredible thighs. I could feel his pecs pressed lightly against my back, lightly rising and falling with deep sleep. His impossible and enchanting body was so awesome that I came, hard, not even touching my own outlandish boner or my fantastic body, realizing as I did so that we were already covered in cum.
After my heart stopped pounding I closed my eyes and, since my powers had mostly recharged, I pushed one last magical gift into their bodies: they would be able to shrink themselves to something approaching normal size when they wanted (though they’d never be “normal” again)—and grow back to this size at will. That would keep them deliriously happy for a very long time. As I stood up, carefully to avoid waking them, I realized with a twinge of regret that I wouldn’t be able to keep Evan for myself; but it didn’t bother me too much. I looked down at them, more than filling the room with gorgeous muscle, and smiled. As I faded away, the sleeping giants moved together and wrapped their arms around each other’s massive bodies, and I knew they would be OK.
Meanwhile I was wondering just how long I could get away with keeping this dream body I’d unconsciously made—for me for once, and not some stranger. Maybe I should have some time for myself, I thought. A wicked grin crept across my face—