Simon Says

Simon Says

“Alright, now I want to look like Preston North.” I said aloud to myself as I looked into the mirror at my reflection.

I watched as my face slowly morphed until it took on the appearance of the hottest guy at my school, Preston. I then watched as my curly black hair transformed to a short brown and a backwards cap completed the look. Cobblestone abs replaced my slightly chubby belly and my new impersonation was completed when my nerdy clothes changed to gym shorts and a tank top.

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Story of a Shifter (Part 5)

Read Part 4 HERE.

Everything was set. The real Miles was chilling at my house for the weekend, pretending to be me. He was pretty good at it too. Everything from my awkward mannerisms to my quiet personality he adopted instantly. The shift must have given him aspects of myself.

I did have to admit though, it was really weird to see someone else with my body, especially Miles. He was years older than me, but suddenly he wasn’t. I was worried he was going to abuse it at first, but he assured me he wouldn’t. He seemed sincere, so I believed him.

After I physically shifted him, I gave him a little cheat sheet with information regarding my life so my parents wouldn’t suspect anything. I could tell he was ready for a weekend of relaxation in my life, so I sent him off.

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Are You Sure?

The best part about my boy is the part of him that peeks out, whatever I change him into. He’s always just so eager to play, to learn the rules of whatever role I’ve just shifted him into.

It’s almost a challenge for me at this point, to see if there’s some kind of guy that I can turn him into, where I would actually have a hard time finding him within.

I was astonished how much he just went with it when I first changed him.

“How would you describe yourself, Matt?” I asked him, lying in bed as he poked through out closet, picking out a shirt.

“Um…” he said, not really turning. “To who?”

“What kind of vibe do you give off, if someone were to see you on the street,” I said, staring at his back.

He gave a light laugh and slight shrug.

“I dunno, probably your average Brooklyn hipster, early 30’s, tall, skinny, boy next door in flannel,” he said.

“Are you sure?” I said, and he stopped. “Are you sure they wouldn’t see you as some scruffy jock on his way to the gym?”

And suddenly, he stood all the way up, his arms swelling, his floofy hair shrinking down into a buzzcut. A short beard crept along his face as his chest broadened, stretching out a Nike tee across his meaty pecs. He shrank down a few inches, his loss of height offset by his sudden broadness.

He turned to me. I froze, waiting to see his reaction.

And then, without missing a beat, he popped his arms behind his head and flashed me a grin.

“I can’t help it if people stare at my guns,” he said in his now lower voice, flexing his biceps, and taking a step toward me. He looked down at himself, and then back at me.

“Like what you see, babe?” he said.

I did.

He took a step closer.

“Want a whiff of these pits before I hit the gym then?”

I did.

I kept him as a jockboy for a week. And then, one morning, as he was pulling out a pair of gym shorts, I asked him, “How would you describe yourself?”

He gave a low, gruff chuckle.

“Probably some dumb, scruffy jock,” he said.

“Are you sure?” I asked, and he froze. “Are you sure people wouldn’t see you as some just turned 19, smooth faced skater boy?”

He looked at me the whole time he shrank, as his frame got leaner and leaner. Years melted off him as his beard and body hair disappeared, and a golden glow ran over his face and skinnier body. His lips got puffier, his eyes softer. I caught a glimpse of his slightly longer, spiky hair as a blue skater cap appeared on his head. The former gym rat, now 5'7’’, maybe 130 pound skater seemed less cocky, more boyish.

“I mean, the skateboard kinda gives it away,” he laughed, light and bubbly, still not breaking eye contact.

I stood up. He came up to my chest now. I wrapped my arms around his now lithe frame and kissed him. He melted into my embrace, leaning into my grip.

Our kiss finally broke and I looked down at him. And there he was, eyes alight. My same boy.

And so it went, for weeks. We would never talk about the change. I never asked him if he liked being one man over another. He had the same eager grin, no matter the man, no matter the role. An older dom daddy: my boy. A twinky porn star go-go dancer: my boy. A chubby chain smoking bear: my boy. A clean cut sailor on leave: my boy.

It’s Friday night. He’s about to cook us dinner when I call out,

“How do you think people see you?”

“I’m sure the glasses and patched elbows on my blazer give away that I’m some kind of academic,” he says, gently.

“Are you sure?” I grin. “Are you sure you’re not a kinky, gear addict slut?”

He adjusts the harness as it wraps around his chest and stares at me, on the bed.

“Dinner can wait, boy,” he growls.

And as he steps toward me, massive dildo in hand, I see it flash in his face.

My boy. I’m sure of it.

Cross Contamination

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I’m fucking furious. To most people Jack Wilson is a hockey hotshot, but to me he is just my wife’s ex that can’t let go. She said they had another encounter, but wouldn’t go into details, saying it wasn’t just his fault. She couldn’t help herself, she said. Knowing how much she loathes him I suspect she was afraid of him turning violent. He is a star athlete after all, known to have punched more than a few players on the ice.

I know he’s training at the stadium right now. That’s how bad it has gotten, that I even know his schedule. I’m probably speeding getting there, but nothing else is important right now. I park the car in the huge, but almost empty parking. Neverending slabs of concrete to allow for the cars of thousands of cheering fans during game day. Well, I’m certainly not a fan. Still fuming as I exit the car and heading towards the arena I see him and a few others from his team running towards the same building from across the car park. They must be out for cardio or something. I stop and shout towards them “Hey! Jack!”

I can see them slow down a little, Jack saying something to them, and then breaking apart jogging in my direction while they continue at speed towards the stadium building. I remain still, just glaring at him as he closes in on me. He slows down quite a bit away and saunters towards me, still panting. He has an aura of smug superiority. He’s good looking, despite his matted, sweaty hair and week-old beard. It’s not just because he’s in top shape, but he has that classic athlete chin cut, and mesmerizing eyes to go with it too. He’s quite a bit shorter than me, and way denser and muscled, but I would bet my weekly martial arts practice can match him if needed. “Hey, cocksucker! You managed to find your way here,” he yells back at me.

“I want you to know…” “Shut up”

I don’t know why, but I can’t look away from his intense eyes. It’s like they can see into me, see every part of me. I’m frozen in place just watching him getting closer. “I said hey cocksucker. What are you waiting for? Go ahead and suck my cock.” He says this as calmly as he can, never breaking eye contact. I don’t think he blinks. I don’t think I blink. I slowly go down on my knees,  grabbing the hem of his sweatpants, and pull down. I still keep eye contact, so I have to feel my way for the waistband of his underwear to pull it down too. I can feel the heat radiate from his steaming body. There’s a smell of sweat, not the stale, musky kind, but from someone who showers every day and uses fresh clothes for each workout. He’s professional and they got staff. I can hear his heavy breath as he is still recovering from the sprint. And I can feel a rather large cock in front of me that is erect, or at least a good way there. I grab it in my hands and guide the tip to my lips and begin to lick it. It doesn’t really taste of much. I open my mouth and get more and more of his compression shirt wrapped abs and pecs in my view as I stare into his deep eyes, and take his big cock deeper and deeper into my mouth.

The tip reaches some point at the back of my mouth and I start to gag, making horrendous gurgling noises. I move back from him. “All the way. I want to be balls deep down your throat, cocksucker.” I do as he commands, and push it in again, further. It’s somehow much easier this time and my lips are tickled by his moist bush of pubes. I then start to work it, in and out, in and out. The noise I’m making is still horrendous. A wet, sloshy sound, and I hate it. “Yeah, you like that, cocksucker. Now, faster.” I grab him by the hip and increase the pace. I get lost in the actions, like nothing matters but his cock, the noise, and his eyes.

I don’t know for how long I was in a trance, but I feel him tensing up, pulling me tight to him, and shooting a big load of his cum down my throat. Suddenly the gaze that had held me like a vice breaks and he looks at my face rather than into my eyes. The spell is broken. I’m kneeling in a parking lot with Jack Wilson’s cock down my throat, and my nose nuzzled into his pubes. His eyes suddenly widen, and his face turns into horror, like he is looking at a monster. Everything is going like in slow motion. I begin to push him away, to get his disgusting cock out of my mouth as he shoots his second load. Somehow in shock I manage to breathe in his cum. He pulls away from me as well, and his third load ends up just next to me on the concrete. “Fuck!” he says, visibly upset. “It’s still in the bloodstream. Spit it out! Spit it out!”

I’m not sure I even have any in my mouth to spit out. It just went straight into my belly and into my lungs. Lungs that are desperately trying to cough up his spunky goo in phlegm-filled, deep whoops. “Fuck!” he shouts one last time, pulls up his sweatpants, and runs towards the Stadium building with one hand holding the pants up. I’m just folded over on my knees coughing and coughing while my mind is racing to make sense of what just happened. My chest is burning and I feel nauseated. There is the salty, bitter taste of cum in my mouth and a stench of athlete sweat as I gasp for air in between the coughs. I keep coughing, but less and less of substance is coming up. I spit out specks of Jack’s spunk on the concrete in front of me, and realize what she had meant when she said she couldn’t help herself. Did he fuck her? After what just happened I wouldn’t put anything past Jack, and there is literally nothing I wouldn’t forgive her for having done. She would have been helpless to stop.

I can feel my whole body burning as I get up from the concrete. I’m very aware how my clothes rubs against my body, like my senses have just gone into overdrive. Everything, every single muscle in my body feels sore. My head is spinning. Still coughing I stagger towards my car and get in behind the wheels. As I close the door the world goes silent. I can only hear my own exhausted panting. I’m confused about what is happening and feel sick as shit, but at least the world isn’t spinning anymore. Somehow I must have been poisoned. What did he mean with “in the bloodstream?”

I start the car and carefully drive from the parking lot and out in the direction of home. Perhaps I shouldn’t be driving at all. Crashing while driving is worse than crashing while sitting in a parking lot, but I really don’t want to have to call anyone for help. Not after what I’ve just been through. I so sympathize with the movie cliché of a girl sobbing in the shower. I only want to cleanse myself in any way possible. To get rid of Jack from me. Even now I can feel the smell of athletic sweat, like it was clinging on to me.

There is a big pop accompanied by one of the chest buttons on my shirt shooting off in the car. The pop isn’t so much heard as felt, as a reverberation in my body like someone just punched me in the chest, with dull spikes of pain in the joints. I swerve dangerously close to the side of the road. It feels like my shoulders pops into their sockets, like my chest just suddenly expands and the rest of my body catches up. There is no mirror I can look in, but I can clearly see something is off just by looking down at my body. What little movement I can make while driving the car feels different.

There is another big shift. Knees and hip joints this time, I think. I’m a little more prepared to handle that one without swerving, but this time I’m instead missing the brake pedal like the seat is set wrong. I scoot forward on the seat and reach the pedal. Now I’m getting real nervous what is happening. I’m almost home though, but I can feel my thigh muscles involuntarily flexing, my feet are hurting, and my stomach is gurgling like bad plumbing.

Her car is not home yet, thank God. I park mine as calmly as I can, screaming inside that I need to get inside and see what the fuck is going on. As I step out of the car I get a first inkling about the enormity of the changes. I almost trip stepping out of the car, and sit down again on the edge of the seat. The fabric on the trousers are straining, and I realize that my feet are probably hurting because they have swollen up inside the shoes. I try to kick off one of the sneakers, but it’s stuck enough that I have to untie them. My movements feel off. It’s not that it is hard to move. The opposite in fact, but different somehow. Me feet thanks me in relief as they are freed,

With the shoes off I awkwardly make my way into the house and step into the nearest bathroom. It’s me in the mirror, of course, but me 5-10 years younger. I’m touching my face in disbelief. But this isn’t just me regressed a decade in time. I was way taller than this then. Curious I unbutton the remaining buttons on my shirt and throw it on the floor. The chest and abs are not me 5-10 years ago. I’ve never looked this buff before. For one I’ve never had washboard abs, and the pecs and shoulders are wide and meaty. The arms more slender, though still muscular, and the core is built more for function than aesthetics. A bit too dense for the show off V shape. Dense, with a low center of gravity.

It’s the body of a hockey player.

I rip off the straining trousers and the socks. Sure enough, massive leg muscles, big thighs, big ass, big feet. Jack the fucking cheater is a fraud in all areas. Whatever the fuck he is taking must have concentrated in his balls, shot into my lungs, and from there gone straight into my bloodstream to do whatever the fuck it’s done to me. And there is nothing I can do to hurt him with it. Who would believe me? This is so far from any science I’ve heard of.

I take a closer look in the mirror again. Perhaps it isn’t all bad after all.

Dumb Jock Guy

“What have you done to me?” I blurted, or slurred, or something.  I felt messed up.  I was at my friend Tyler’s apartment, but this wasn’t right.  I had about 30 or 35 more pounds of muscle on me than I did previously.  I still looked like myself in a way, but now I was huge, sporting this whole beefy jock look.  I mean I was just packed with muscle.  Crazier still, I was now covered with tats.

I remembered now, vaguely, being tied down for Tyler’s experiment.  What the hell had those guys drugged me with?  They must have been running multiple recalibration IV drips at once.  I could still see the small Band-Aid the inner part of my right arm where the needle had gone in.

This was far worse than date rape or slipping a guy roofies.  I mean, I could press charges if I wanted to, and I always already thinking I might.  I was full of so many conflicting emotions.  We were such good friends, but this crossed so many lines.  This was my body, man, and I didn’t sign off on this.  The health effects, the negative consequences, and how I’d have to explain this to my employer and my family were all racing through my head.

Why would he do this to me?  I knew the guy was a perv, and admittedly, I had that in common with him.  We loved to talk about this sort of thing, but he was far more into dabbling around with the actual drugs and the realities of it than I had been.  To me, it was just a lot of hot fantasy and something to beat off to.  I loved looking at before and after pictures on the net and got off to those a lot.

Tyler and I had so much in common that way, but to knock me out like that and actually hook me up to those drugs and beef me up was just way beyond the pale what anybody should ever be able to do or get away with.

I’d been playing with fire, being Tyler’s friend, and I knew it, I suppose, but to actually get burned like this was just not ok with me.  I would have never permitted this.  I was huge.  I didn’t even feel like myself.  I felt muddied up and messed up.  I hoped that would fade soon as I came out of it more.  I still felt bleary with sleep.

Even my voice sounded different.  It was low, rich and confused-sounding, to my ear at least.  I sounded almost dumb in a way.

“Tyler, you can’t do this, man.  I thought we were friends.  It was one thing to discuss it and fantasise about it, but to run me through a cocktail of so many different substances without my permission is batshit crazy.  You have to tell me what you put into me.  It’s my body, and these were all supposed to be my decisions.”

“You said you’d think it’s hot when we were playing around with spirals and inductions that night.  You admitted how hot it would be and how much you really wish you were brave enough to go for it at times.  I’m just giving you what you know you truly wanted, deep down, more than anything.”

“Dude,” I said, and now it wasn’t the casual words of the guy I’d used to be, who also said ‘dude’, but rather this booming, jocked-up ‘dude’ that had all the tone of domineering jock guy, “just because I talked about something doesn’t mean it was ok, and you know that!  You know that, Tyler!  It’s not even legal!”

“Since when do you care so much about the letter of the law?” Tyler said.

“Since right now!” I shot back, sounding like an angry muscle dude, which I supposed I technically was now.  I was so new to this, and it was so strange, trying to get used to it, that I was still surprising myself every time I spoke.

Tyler was smiling, his eyes glittering at me, looking very smug and self-satisfied.  It pissed me off.  He started explaining, “Well, it’s too late to be upset about it, because what’s done is done.  We jocked you up real good, bro, as I’m sure you can tell.  You were under for a long time and we did the tats while you were passed out.  Some of that ink’s even going to have mild psychotropic effects on you.  It’s been weeks since you went under.  It was so hot watching you slowly get bigger, day after day.  It looks like your memory’s been restored pretty well.  You’ve somehow broken through the wall of the jock mind we’ve been trying to give you.  Sometimes it doesn’t activate right away.  Yeah, we gave you the mind of a jock to go with the body.  Honestly, I’m surprised you were strong enough to fight off those effects and keep them at bay.”

“You gave me psychosomatic drugs too?” I said, trying to control my panic.  “Dude, you gotta get me on an IV blocker.  I can forgive you for the body, maybe, but you can’t mess with my mind!”

“Dude, you always said the mental change was some of the hottest stuff to you when we talked about it and watched videos.  I remember you telling me how much it made you hard.”

“But how will I be able to seriously go through life like this?” I said, scratching my head.  I was glad I was still thinking like myself, but I was worried that those drugs were in me.  I knew how permanent their effects usually were and how hard it could be to ever revert a guy after that.  I wasn’t sure if I was paranoid or what, or if I was still groggy from sleep, but I was feeling almost confused.  “You can’t, Tyler, you just can’t!  Let’s do this but get out the IV drip right now.  You don’t have my permission and there’s still time.”

“I don’t have any blockers here,” Tyler said then, laughing.

“Then we’ll go out and get blockers, and some clarity antidote too!” I argued.

“But I like you like this, dumbass.  Why would I want to block what I gave you when I know there’s a dumb jock guy just itching to come out in your personality.  It’ll match the body.  You look really sexy.  It should be hot to see you get just as sexy upstairs.  Don’t you love how you look?”

“This can’t be me, I look like… I dunno man,“ I said.  "I look stupid like this,” I said, which wasn’t what I’d planned on saying.  I had fantasised about it for sure, but that’s a whole different thing from really going through this, especially with Tyler taking away my control over the situation.

“That’s because you are stupid like that,” Tyler answered me.  “You can’t really fight it, can you?”

That really angered me, that he was just clearly toying with me like this and refusing to listen to me.  I sure as hell could fight it, I knew, and wasn’t about to be part of this experiment without a fight.  "Yeah man, I can fight it,“ I said, “and we’re going to drive out and get some blockers for me to take right now or I’ll seriously beat your ass, Tyler.  Like this, I definitely could.  Come on, let’s get in the car,” I commanded him, not even caring how threatening I sounded now in this voice.  It was literally a matter of life and death, at least as far as my soul was concerned, not that I technically believed in a soul.  I just wasn’t ready for anything this radical, and this huge body was change enough.  I could get used to this hot muscle bod I was now sporting, my mind thought as it raced, but not the personally of a dumbass, too.  This could be just perfect as it is.  We had to get me on an IV and reverse those injections that could mess with my mind.  There were still time.  Why wouldn’t Tyler just listen to me?

“I’m not going in the car.  You’re seriously going to physically threaten me?” he said, as if he was the victim here.

“You bet I will,” I said, putting one big hand of mine on his neck.  I squeezed him a little.  This wasn’t like me, and I was stronger than I realised, but I felt like I had no choice.  He wasn’t going to stall for time with me.

“You like this, dumbass.  You know it’s what you wanted.  You were the one who beat off to it, and I just gave you what you know you want.”

“It’s not what I wanted,” I said then, and it unnerved me how my words sounded slurred to me, almost unconvincing.  I felt lightheaded, almost dizzy, as I needed a drink of water or something.  I hoped it wasn’t the drugs.

I had to clear my head.  I walked over to the big mirror on the wall of the living room, trying to discern if anything was wrong with me.  Was this really me. Yeah, I looked like a dumb jock guy, but I had to admit I looked kind of hot.  Crazy as it was, my dick started to react in my boxer shorts, which was all I was wearing.  I suppose just really getting a good look at myself had done it.  This was just like a fantasy.  I’d had this fantasy a lot of times.

Water.  I needed water.  Then I’d force this little motherfucker into the car with me, even if I had to tackle him to the ground and hurt him first.  Tyler and I had been friends, and this was such a huge betrayal.

i walked into the kitchen, still getting used to the size of my big feet against the carpet, the way my thighs were so thick and seemed to almost roll around each other in my gait now, and the way the pecs on my chest almost seemed to bound and bounce even when I was just walking.  This was crazy.  I was such a meaty guy, and now I knew what it felt like to be one for the same time.  As invigorating as it was, I didn’t expect to be feeling the tits on my chest bouncing as I walked, or the way my arms seemed to just swing stupidly at my sides like a gorilla’s arms, pushed kinda outward from the muscle.

I filled up a glass of water right from the tap, downed it, wiping sweat off my brow.  This was almost psychological trauma in a way, I thought.  I set the water down beside the sink and turned back to face Tyler.  “Let’s go.  Now!”  I ordered.

“You dumb hunk of meat,” Tyler said, “you know you want this.  Just cave in.  The drugs are in you.  Let that caveman mind rise up and the resistance in you wane away.  I know he’s in you.  We gave you the drugs.”

“Fuck that man, I am not going to be your dumb jock or something!” I blurted out, but the sound of my voice even sounded like a Neanderthals’.

“Yes you are a dumb jock, stupid,” he said.  Tyler was saying this to me!  I hated the little prick so much right then!

“I’m not stupid, you dumbass!” I roared at him.

“Is that the Pee-wee Herman defence, dude?  I know you are but what am I?”

“You’re a scrawny little fucker who’s gonna take me to get the antidote!” I roared, walking up to him and grabbing him by the shirt.  “Take me, now.”

“Take you where, dumbass?”

I grabbed his face and squeezed his cheeks with one hand then, making his lips purse in a trout pout.  “You know where.”

“Ok, ok,” he said, and I put one big hand on his neck and started pushing him towards the door, grabbing his keys off the table for him.  “Where’s a shirt?  I need a shirt and some pants?” I said.  Tyler was smaller than me, and now I was getting worried that nothing would fit me.  “Where’s my shirt?” I said.

“I don’t have one here, man.  You can try mine.”

I hustled over to his closet, because there was no time to waste, and everything looked too small.  I tried one of his coats, because it looked larger, thinking maybe at least that would cover me up, but my thick arms wouldn’t even go in the sleeves all the way.  I swear I heard the seams start to snap already when I tried to force it a little, so I just dropped it on the floor.  Whatever, I’d have to go like this.  There were no shoes, though, either.  Shit.  I’d just have to go like this and maybe wait in the car for him.  I’d ask him for his keys when he left to go inside.  I’d make him promise me.  We had to go.

When we were out in the hall, I let him go, since he seemed to be complying now, and as athletic as I was now, I felt pretty confident I could outrun him, grab him and tackle him if he tried to get away.  Plus he had said ‘ok’.

It was all going to be ok, I told myself, especially when we got me juiced up with some of that clarity antidote.  My mind was still intact.  I could feel it.  Internally,I was feeling strange though.  It was almost a meaty feeling, in a way, like I could get into this more.  I wanted to hurt Tyler.  I wanted to look in the mirror again.  I was marvelling at my body, even as frightening as it was.  It felt like I had to almost fight to stay on task, in a way, though I still felt like myself, mostly.  In a way it was like being drugged, and of course, I had been drugged, so that’s exactly what it was.

We were hustling, no-nonsense time, to Tyler’s car down below in the parking lot.  I felt like the Hulk or something, bounding downstairs barefoot in nothing but my boxers.  It was embarrassing, even as there was something twisted and sexy about it all, and there was no denying that.  By the time we were in the car, and Tyler was seemingly compliant and calmly driving us, I was even calming down enough to lean back in my seat, arms behind my head, taking a breather, trying to take in what had all happened to me and what all had to happen next.

As we hit the open road and his car sped up the onramp onto the interstate, I felt my dick bounce up, hard.  Just looking at my own body was turning me on.  It really was a fantasy come to life for me.  I laughed, telling Tyler that I’m fucking hard, so look what he’s done, and he laughed too.  I told him again that I’m pissed but this is kind of cool and I just wanted my mind to stay the same.

By the time we were halfway there, I’d given my cock a few strokes through my boxers.  My cock was just so turned on, and it would not go down, and it didn’t hurt to grip my cock and balls through the fabric a few times.  I wanted to feel the heft of my meat.  I swore my cock felt bigger, and I was tempted to just pull my boxers down and look right then and there, but it felt kind of hotter to just wait and save it for later.

Then I did pull the waistband out, looking down at my pubes and thick meat, and I swear that just from looking, my cock got so excited that it started to leak pre.  I was right in Tyler’s car but he’d fucking done this to me so it’s not like I cared, and it was all crazy, but damn if I wasn’t a sexy-looking guy like this.

I felt like I was really ruminating on that, on how I looked hot like this, just the muscle of my arm reclined up against the door or the thick thighs busting out of my boxers, and wanting to give my cock some attention, too.  I felt like a sexed up dumbass right then, even though I knew I wasn’t a dumbass.  I looked like a musclebound jock for sure, but I sure wasn’t about to cave in to the psychosomatic stuff and start thinking about myself, or thinking just like some sort of musclebound jock or whatever.  Even if it was a kind of hot thought to have, it was a thought I could explore after these drugs in my veins had been defused.  I could swear I was feeling them, even, and that wasn’t good, but I still had full control and there was still plenty of time.

I had to pull my boxers down again, and so I did.  I hefted my dick with my hand, and my dick looked fat and hard as fuck now, a drop of pre glistening at the time.

“Dude, look at this cock,” I said to Tyler.  “If you’re lucky and get me those drugs maybe I’ll even let you suck on it at some point,” I teased, knowing I was also kind of serious.

“Hot, dude.  You like playing the dumbass like that, don’t you?” “Yeah, I guess I do like playing it.  I just don’t want to be it.”

“Part of you wants to be it.”

“Admittedly, that’s true.  But you’re going to get me the antidote and that’ll be the end of it, because I’ve gotta be myself, man.” I said, feeling up one of my thick pecs as I talked.  It felt so much easier to control and command Tyler with this body and this voice.  He thought he was in charge, but he probably didn’t realise how much power this body truly gave me over him.  I had physical power and sexual power over him now, and even my voice and the way I was talking to him had already taken on a whole different dynamic than it would have it I’d had my old voice.

Then Tyler was pulling into the parking lot.  He left the keys with me, per my request, but promised me that I could trust him.  He said he sure didn’t want to get in trouble for drugging me without my consent, so there was a lot at risk for him, too.

With Tyler gone now, and me left impatiently waiting, I flipped down the sun visor.  I wanted to take a look in the mirror.  Man, I really did look like a dumb jock.  I supposed I’d really be able to get into this thing after I had the antidote.  I smiled at my reflection and lifted an arm to flex.  Looked good.

I’d really be able to fuck with Tyler with a body like this, but that would have to wait until after the antidote.  Even if I decided to forgive him, I’d like to make the little punk pay for getting me into this and doing it without my permission.  I could picture myself forcing him to his knees on his bathroom floor, making him suck my cock as I slapped it all over his face.

He was kinda cute, even though he was a weak little guy to me now, and I was sure he majorly got off on doing this to me, so I’d have to give him a taste of his own medicine at some point.

I did look pretty good like this, and it was cool how I felt like a jock now even though I knew I wasn’t one.  Obviously, I wasn’t gonna become one just because I looked like this, and yet I definitely wanted to enjoy all the perks of this body, too.  I flexed again for the little mirror, telling myself I should put it away, and I could see myself in the rearview mirror, too the massive heft of my arms looking surprisingly huge now.

Tyler came out with the bag, finally.  I had already folded the mirror up and was leaning back against the headrest of my chair, arms behind my head, pits bared.  I felt good like this.  I wanted to tease Tyler, show off, and let him know his chances of fucking with me were over.  I was in control now.

It was on the ride back that I realised that I wanted to flex some more, that I wanted to beat off, and that I was feeling really good.

“Dude, you should hurry up.  Drive faster if you can.  I’m feeling really turned on.”

“What, like you want to beat off or something?  It’s ok if you want to.  I don’t mind.”

“Dude, don’t say that,” I said, grabbing my cock through my boxers and enjoying the pleasure of that.  I wasn’t going to just beat off in his car, as hot as the idea was.  We had to get back fast.  I felt like I was losing control of my mind.  In a way it’s kind of like when you get hard for so long and so in the zone of sex that you don’t ever want to come back to reality.  I felt myself slipping and slipping further into those sort of desires.

Even as Tyler parked the car, and I was still hard in my boxer sorts, bounding back up the stairs barefoot like the Hulk, part of me was starting to think that if he didn’t get the blockers and clarity antidote into me in time, it might not be so bad.  I felt good like this.  Really good.  Scary good, in a way.

“Tyler, bro, you gotta get that stuff in me,” I said, clapping an arm on his shoulder as he opened the door.  I sounded halfhearted to myself in a way, too casual.  I wasn’t panicking.  I was enjoying this.  Fuck.  I gave my cock another squeeze through my boxer shorts.

“Yeah, I will,” Tyler said, smiling, and he didn’t seem to be hurrying enough for me.  “Get in the bedroom and I’ll get out the IV bag.”

So I did, sitting on the edge of Tyler’s bed, my bare feet on the carpet now, my silky boxers against the silky bedspread, which felt so good on my thighs.  I squeezed my cock again through my boxers as I waited for him.  He had the stuff so it would be ok.  Just one more squeeze, I thought, one more rub of my cockhead with my fingers through the fabric.

And then I couldn’t take it anymore.  I thought it would be hot to surprise Tyler, in a way, with how out of control and right down to the wire this had gotten.  So i slid down my boxers, kicking them aside, and started stroking my cock then and there on his bed, long, slow strokes.  I leaned my head back.  “Tyler, get in here,” I said.  “Hurry up.”

Tyler was still digging around and then he came in, IV bag in hand.  “Dude, what are you doing?” he said, setting it down on the table.

“Don’t set it down, hook me up,” I said.  “This is hot.  Fuck.  I’m feeling so fucked up, man.  I’m just so horny.”

“Ok, I gotta get the bag still,” he said, heading back out, and then he was laughing.  The little fucker actually laughed!

For some reason, the thought that I actually might end up stuck this way was just turning me on even more.  So I almost moaned out loud, feeling like a dumb bull, stroking my cock some more.  I’d go out and force Tyler to fix me up in few seconds.  Just a few more strokes.

I mean, this was hot, this was really hot, and what a rush to bring it so close to the edge.  But I couldn’t really stay a dumb jock dude like this for good, could I?

That would be just crazy.  Fuck, the thought of it was so hot though.  This had been just like what I’d imagined happening so many times, only it finally was happening, and the thought of not stopping it seemed hot, too.

You’re turning into a real meathead, I thought, and I was just beating off harder and faster now, my cock leaking pre all over.

I forced myself to stop.

I couldn’t be a meathead, or if I ever wanted to return to this, I could later.  For now I needed the blockers so that it doesn’t even up permanent.  I needed the clarity antidote.  I needed that fucker Tyler to do what I told him to do.

Otherwise this would be me from now on.  Dumb and jocked.  Fuck.

And man, even if I didn’t get to Tyler in time, and something still goes wrong, which it probably wouldn’t because I could so easily overpower him now, well, so what, that could be hot as shit.  At least for a while, or whatever.  I dunno, man, I was thinking so many conflicting thoughts at once.  I decided to just ignore my cock and stand up, so I did.  I picked my boxers up and stepped back into them, difficult as that was to do in the moment.  I needed my boxers on so that Tyler would take me seriously.  Plus my cock was dripping pre, which I noticed as pulled up my boxers, a spot spreading on them almost right away because the head of my cock was already so wet.

So what if I am this way, a hot muscle stud, because lots of guys want to be a hot muscle stud.  I was thinking that as I headed into the living room.

Man, what if I really do stay this way, a hot muscle stud forever, I was worrying, but my cock was still hard about it.  Yeah, that could be a real turn-on, I thought.  I was stroking my dick again as I walked into the living room.

What was I doing?  Aww, fuck.  I had to focus on Tyler now.  I could beat off later, I thought.  But I was looking down at my body, and all I could think about was my body and how hot I was feeling right now.  If I was turning stupid, that was hot too.  Fuck.  There’s more important things than being smart.

Fuck.  Look at this body, dude, I thought.  I’m fuckin’ hot!  Isn’t that what matters right now?  Just for a few more minutes.  Then he’d IV bag me up and it’d be all good.  I still had control, I thought.

I had to tell Tyler.

“Tyler, I’m fucking hot, man!” I said to him as I bounded, almost stumbling, into the living room.  I was hard in my boxer shorts and I wanted him to see it.

“Yeah, you are pretty hot.  How are you feeling, dumbass?” “Don’t call me dumbass, dude.  We gotta do this, still.  But I do feel fucking hot!”

“Say it again.”

“I feel fucking hot?”

“Yeah, dumbass.  Look at you, you’re fucking naked.  How’s that not stupid?”

“Because it’s not?” I laughed, admitting in my own mind that it was kind of dumb, sexy as it was.  I was naked and feeling good, that was for sure.  I was a hot dude.

Tyler was laughing too, and he wasn’t even making any move to fix me up.  That kind of concerned me.  It also kind of was funny.  It also kind of turned me on.

“Fuck, I was getting afraid we really would have to give you the antidote.  But now all you mostly feel upstairs right now is that meat mind, don’t you?”

“Fuck, dude, I think you’re right.  What are you saying?  Fuck, I do feel pretty messed up.  It’s a hot kind of messed up, though.”

“Dude, you’re leaking pre right through your boxers,” Tyler said.  “Why don’t you strip them off for me before you get them messed up?”

“You want to see this body naked?” I said, shooting Tyler a cocky grin, letting him know who’s in charge.  “I’m not afraid of getting naked.  Watch this, dude,” I said, yanking down my boxers and stepping out of them, and then throwing them on Tyler’s lap as I laughed.  “There’s a spot of pre for you.”

“Hot, dude.  Look at that thick cock.” “This thick cock?” I said, wrapped my hands around it.  “Man, yeah, I love this thick cock.  I can jack it for you, bud.  Bet you’d love that.”

“Jack it, dumbass.”

“I told you I’m not a dumbass, dude,” I said back, turning my eyes to my cock, wrapping both hands around it and starting to work the shaft.

“Dude, it feels hot to get stupid.  It’s ok.  You like being called a dumbass.  Just admit it.”

“Maybe I do,” I said, winking at him, feeling like he could call me that all he wants as long as I’m the one who’s turning him on.  I felt so hot.  I really kind of wanted to grip him in a headlock and get him slurping on my dick right then and there.

“Yeah, dumbass?  Look at you, you dumb muscle stud.  You’re just another dumb jock guy now.”

“Maybe I am,” I said, stepping closer to Tyler now, pointing my cock straight at him.  “You like guys like that, don’t you?”

“Hell yeah I do,” Tyler said, looking at my cock now as I beat off in front of him.

“Mmm, fuck yeah you do, bud,” I said, stroking my cock firmly with both hands, taking another step closer to him.  “Made me a big hulking dumbass.  How do you like me now, little guy?”

“I fucking love you like this,” Tyler said.

“Yeah bud?  I love me like this, too.  Fuck..  I feel dumb as fuck.”

“Aww, hell yeah,” Tyler said, his own hand down his shorts, playing with his own cock too.

“Dumb as fuck, man.  I can feel it.” “I can tell, dude.  Holy fuck, you’re hot.” “I am pretty hot, aren’t I?  Just think about how hot you’ll be if you do this, too,” I said.  That was an exciting thought to me, the thought of Tyler hulking up to my level and experiencing it for himself.

“Aww man,” Tyler said, “maybe that would be hot.”

“You know it would,” I said casually.  I was getting so close to busting.

“Mmm, yeah,” Tyler said then, really jerking himself fast now.

“I’ve gotta get off, aww fuck,” I blurted then, and then I was already spurting jets of cum all over Tyler’s face, and he was leaning back on the couch and moaning out loud, beating himself off in his shorts.  It took him about half a minute and then he was cumming in his shorts right there, a dark wet stain spreading on them before me.

I laughed.  “Dude, look at your shorts!  Holy shit!”

For some reason it was hilarious to me.

“Tyler, you gotta fucking do this bro, I really want you to do this,” I remember saying later that night, kissing him on the lips, even as scrawny as he was, just because the thought of having the guy who did this awesome shit to me experience it himself would be so hot.

“Tyler, dude, we could be boyfriends or fuckbuddies or musclesex buddies or whatever the fuck we’d be if you just do it yourself, too.  It feels so fucking good.  I just want you to be here like this with me, go through it with me.  You have to man.  You did this to me so you have to.”

“Fuck, ok ok,” Tyler said.  “I mean, seeing you like this, knowing I think it’s hot too… well, it is so hot.  Let me suck your cock, dude, and I’ll make plans to go through the process myself sometime.

“Tomorrow, dude, you have to tomorrow just so you don’t overthink this.”

“Ok, I’ll start on it tomorrow, damn, I mean that’s really fast, though.”

“Promise me, Tyler,” I said, leaning down to his him again.  “Please, promise me.  You have to.”

“Ok, fuck.  Damn.  This is crazy but yeah.  You’re hot.  How can I deny a guy as hot as you?  It’s just crazy, but I did to this to you.  I have fantasied about it a lot myself.  And just seeing you now, seeing how amazing this all is, I think I will.  I really will, as big of a leap as that is.  I promise you.”

Tyler sucked my cock again all that night, and all I could think as I looked down at the scrawny dude sucking my fat dick was that he’d be so much fucking hotter when he actually goes through with this, and that just the thought of him going through with it was so hot that… uh, yeah I mean, you know.

I came hard down his throat, pushing his head down on my cock and calling him a dumbass the whole time, said he’s gonna be just another dumb jock dude, and he chugged my whole milkshake, dude.

I tried to think of what it all meant.  Dumb wasn’t a bad thing.  Wasn’t it a Nirvana song or something even?  A jock, hell, a jock strap was hot and I’d have to start wearing a lot of them. I could already picture myself in them.  And guy, hey, everyone’s a guy, right.  It’s all good, dude.

“You have to, dude.  You have to,” I said again, and we cuddled up in Tyler’s bed, my huge body wrapped around his scrawny one, lightly feeling up his arms and his legs, thinking about how hot he was gonna be when he gets like me.

“I will,” Tyler said.  “Promise.”