tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87843476303222561062024-03-24T00:09:42.621-07:00Explore Storiesrevolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.comBlogger252125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-41447206017293067222024-02-29T15:59:00.000-08:002024-02-29T16:05:32.679-08:00Glitter Bomb<p>Trent yawned and stretched his arms as he stumbled downstairs. He wasn't usually awake this early, but today was a special day; it was his sixteenth birthday. And it wasn't just any old birthday, it was a Leap Year birthday. He was used to having his birthday on the wrong day, so whenever February 29th came around, it was cause for a proper celebration on his proper birth day, the day he could only celebrate every four years.</p><p>The smell of roasted coffee wafted in the air, his mom already awake and making his favorite breakfast. And in the living room, there was already a small pile of gifts and cards for him to open. Trent didn't want to open anything until the rest of his family were there, but cards were always a go-to. He tore through the pile of envelopes, smiling at the thoughtful messages his parents wrote, and frowning at the 4th birthday jabs from his friends. His brother even got him a card made for pre-schoolers with dancing, rectangular dogs that wished him a bonzer birthday, whatever that meant. After opening another card from a distant relative with a $10 bill inside, he came to the last card in the pile. It looked a little haphazard, and he could feel something other than the card on the inside. He didn't recognise the handwriting at all, but that wasn't much of a concern. It wasn't like he knew everyone who'd sent him a card by their script. But this one felt different. Out-of-place...<br /></p><p>Trent opened the envelope, a small smirk slipping his lips. It was a picture of a prune wearing a birthday hat. Wildly different from the other cards he'd received. Then he opened the card itself, and was immediately blinded by a puff of smoke and glitter. He dropped the card on the table, coughing as he tried wiping the offensive dust away from his eyes. Who would do something so stupid?? He grabbed the card again to find out who to yell at.</p><p style="text-align: center;">Dear Trent</p><p style="text-align: center;">Happy "16th" Birthday! What a day to celebrate it on!</p><p style="text-align: center;">Love</p><p style="text-align: center;">X</p><p>He scratched his head, confused. There was no name to who sent it, just a cross. He sighed, trying to put the memory of the glitter bomb aside. At least they signed it with him celebrating his sixteenth, unlike his immature friends. He may have been born in a leap year, but he didn't find the whole "your real age is a quarter what it actually is" thing funny. Then again, he noticed the sendee put 16th in quotations. What was that about?</p><p>He dropped the card down again, and sighed as he looked at his hands. They were coated in that fine glitter from inside the card. Plus, a load of it clung to his night-shirt in a shimmering mess. He didn't even want to think of what his face looked like. He yanked his shirt off over his head, and chucked it in the laundry room. But before he left, he noticed something peculiar on his chest. A faint itch that spread across his skin. When he rubbed his chest, it felt almost gritty to the touch. Had the glitter managed to seep through his shirt? That didn't make sense. He ignored the feeling for now, heading back upstairs to have a good shower. He grunted as he climbed, his knees feeling peculiarly sore. He tried to recall doing any exercise recently, but his thoughts felt hazy.<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>He entered the bathroom, and jumped straight in the shower, trying to ignore the persistent, nagging feeling that something wasn't right. All he had to do was the glitter off, and it wasn't long before the water going down the drain was alight with the glittery substance. But no matter how hard he scrubbed, he could still feel that weird grit across his face and across his torso. Even worse, his skin felt leathery and dried out, even under the water. He could even make out the silvery substance on his chest. Somehow, it even seemed to have invaded his pubic hair, it sure was persistent.<br /></p><p>After a good half hour of washing, the water started to turn cold, and Trent finally admitted defeat. He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and stepped out into the steamy room, squinting. He could barely see anything around him through the mist, let alone the mirror. Even after giving it a wipe, his visage still looked blurry. So he opened up the bathroom door to get some airflow, waiting for the mirror to clear up. However, he still had to lean in close to get a better look at himself. Something he wish he hadn't done.<br /></p><p>Trent stared wide-eyed at his reflection. Staring back at him was an old man, far older than he was. He moved his hand up to his face, and the reflected man did the same. He reached for his chin, jolting back as his fingers felt bristles along its surface. His reflection did the same. Terrified, he ran his hands over the leathery skin around his neck, the white hairs sprinkled across his chest, and even the slight potbelly he'd managed to attain, all the while, the old man in the mirror mimicked his movements. But there was no way that man with the rugged, creased skin and the snow-white hair that had almost overtaken its original black was actually him. He reached up to his scalp, tugging on his salt and pepper locks, trying to snap himself out of this weird hallucination. Nothing was happening. Could it be, was the old man really him? <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIE_EpndiC_u7XBnZgp-rd9kjbLHXkgcEfU-brNrj8heLcIezErxX_c5kQBDS66AHXiFMiOHo1mJdosEJbHyKhBhPXmG_D8L3fhZ5_Ifomnz0mC3Ho5cl_X4y_bmGrMuoqXblalrMbbbCEwZjYgYNun3EByok_nWzmJ9q4umJ5Dn1xr40CHWn7bGdOzrfP/s780/received_900894730318415-780x470.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="470" data-original-width="780" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIE_EpndiC_u7XBnZgp-rd9kjbLHXkgcEfU-brNrj8heLcIezErxX_c5kQBDS66AHXiFMiOHo1mJdosEJbHyKhBhPXmG_D8L3fhZ5_Ifomnz0mC3Ho5cl_X4y_bmGrMuoqXblalrMbbbCEwZjYgYNun3EByok_nWzmJ9q4umJ5Dn1xr40CHWn7bGdOzrfP/w640-h386/received_900894730318415-780x470.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p> "You're really worried about your hair? Most guys have lost it by your age."<br /></p><p> "Wha-"</p><p>A shrill voice snapped Trent's attention away from the mirror. Behind him, in the doorway, was a tall, lanky teen with a big grin across his spotty cheeks. "Happy birthday, old man!" </p><p>Trent frowned. Couldn't this guy see he was having a crisis right now? Who was he anyway? For some reason, he was thinking of him as his brother, but that couldn't be right. He'd know what his own brother looked like. And the kid had to be a few decades younger than he was. Except, he wasn't an old man, not really. His head ached as he tried to recall who the brat could be. At least one thing was for sure. He grumbled, "I'm not old..."</p><p>"That's the spirit," the kid said with a slap on the back. "You're only as old as you feel. Or so I've been told."</p><p>"No, I'm not old!" Trent said more stubbornly. "I'm only sixteen, I should be sixteen!"</p><p>"16?" The boy scratched the back of his neck, and muttered under his breath. "Talk about a mid-life crisis..."</p><p>"Look kid, I don't have time for your antics!" Trent said with a prod of the boy's chest. "I opened my cards, and one of them dumped glitter on me, and did... Something... But I'm really sixteen!"</p><p>"Ooohh, I get it!" The kid said with a chuckle. "You're a leap day baby. So while you're old and pruny, it's really only your 16th. Funny stuff. I didn't know you had it in you, old-timer."</p><p>"That's no way to speak to your elders," Trent snapped. This brat should have more respect than that. But it triggered a memory, a prune with a birthday hat. What was that from...</p><p>"C'mon, chill Grunkle Trent. I'm only kidding, you know me." <br /></p><p>"You need better material, kid. Like I said, I'm sixty-four, not sixteen." A strange feeling overcame Trent. Did he say that? Wasn't he so adamant he was a teenager? But that didn't make sense, he detested that whole "quarter your age" joke people so loved to throw out. Maybe he was losing it. </p><p>"I got it, jeez! When you stop worrying about glitter in your hair, Mom's made coffee and pastries, and she'd love to see her favorite uncle on his 16th birthday." The kid put air-quotes around his age, something that sparked deja-vu in Trent. He'd seen that already today, right? But before he could grumble once again about that over-used joke, his great-nephew was already gone.<br /></p><p>"That boy needs a good talking to," Trent grumbled as he turned back to the mirror. His mind was still a little foggy, but things were getting a little clearer now that the glitter was gone. He adjusted his silvery locks once more, and grabbed a button shirt he found behind him. It was nice of his niece to let him stay for a few days, even if her son was a disruptive brat. And as much as he hated to say it, it was nice to finally celebrate his 16th birthday once again, even if he wasn't as young and spry as he was back then. But he wouldn't give up his maturity for the world. He looked pretty good for a man in his sixties, after all. He even still had a full head of hair, he thought with a smug grin. Time to celebrate his proper birthday, the one that only came every four years.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcVhRBRpKKS5EqgBPFpteFpNuWrnDsFErlrIrgrX4JE5J4I2GZRWRl_mJSrLPS9FXH7OcM8hMsVzVpb39vBVih79tIA162UrCH8RdvXYnxlL8Al0SXhnxKXix2gGRzRI06zS1IOc3_gC9pRaa-rILgi95j-Io7CpHCcb2DngvV2FwBRfwByg3747lVBxP/s540/top-5-muzhskih-krasok-dlja-volos-ot-sediny-59d3c2c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="540" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcVhRBRpKKS5EqgBPFpteFpNuWrnDsFErlrIrgrX4JE5J4I2GZRWRl_mJSrLPS9FXH7OcM8hMsVzVpb39vBVih79tIA162UrCH8RdvXYnxlL8Al0SXhnxKXix2gGRzRI06zS1IOc3_gC9pRaa-rILgi95j-Io7CpHCcb2DngvV2FwBRfwByg3747lVBxP/w640-h426/top-5-muzhskih-krasok-dlja-volos-ot-sediny-59d3c2c.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-36606542731152855182024-02-14T18:21:00.000-08:002024-02-14T18:21:21.942-08:00The Ideal Valentine<p>The night was young, and Miles was getting frisky with his girlfriend, Jackie. The two had been together for three years now, and their Valentine's Day had only begun. After a wonderful night out, there was only one thing on the lovers' minds. However, as soon as their lovemaking entered the honeymoon suite they'd booked for the night, Jackie paused a rowdy Miles as she rummaged in her underwear drawer. "I wanted to do something extra special for tonight, so I got us these." She held out two little bottles of shimmering liquid, dropping one into his open hands. "Drink this while I get into something more comfortable, and we'll have a night to remember!" <br /></p><p>With that, Jackie slipped into the bathroom to freshen up. However, Miles had a few Valentine's plans of his own. He left the vial on Jackie's vanity table, then reached under the bed to pull out a box of treasures. He sprinkled some rose petals on the bed, lit a few scented candles, and dug out the box of premium chocolates and champagne. Then came to the pièce de résistance; a pair of tearaway briefs with a heart-print pattern that cupped his junk just so. He had this Valentine's thing in the can.<br /></p><p>Finally, Miles got around to the small bottle his girlfriend had given him. It was a vibrant purple, with a peculiar sparkle. He noticed that the vial had a sticker on the front, a circle sitting atop a cross. He cocked his head, it was the universal symbol for women, and femininity. Why did Jackie want him to drink this? Then again, she was somewhat into witchcraft in a cutesy, fashion way. It was probably some sort of aphrodisiac she'd found online, made to spice the evening up a little. A way to find his inner women, and better understand how to pleasure her, perhaps. He uncorked the vial, and sniffed the contents. Sweet notes, with a floral undertone. Well, bottoms up.<br /></p><p>"AAAHHHHH!!"<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>Before he could bring the vial to his lips, a sudden hair-raising scream reverberated from the bathroom. Panicked, Miles dropped the vial back on the vanity, and rushed over to the bathroom door. Inside, he could hear his girlfriend. "Holy fuck! Fuckfuckfuck, I fucked it up!" He could hear his girlfriend inside, but she didn't sound right. Her usually light, airy voice was more guttural and gruff. In fact, the voice didn't sound lady-like at all, it sounded like a man.</p><p>Curious and worried, he knocked on the door. "Honey? You okay? I heard you scream and-"</p><p>"DON'T COME IN!" The voice screeched back with all the force and authority of an angry man. There was no way that deep, gravelly voice was Jackie. Miles weighed his options. Maybe this was some sort of sexy roleplay, with a voice synthesizer. Or maybe she was having some sort of reaction to that sparkly drink and needed help. Or, god forbid, someone had broken in and hurt her, and was now unsuccessfully masquerading as her. Well whatever the case, he couldn't just stand there. He threw the door wide open, then gasped and retreated back, until he fell back onto the bed. He looked up to confirm what he had seen. It wasn't his girlfriend, it was a large, brawny, hairy man standing at the sink, staring in the mirror. The man glanced to him, eyes wide with shock. "Miles!" He cried out in that gravelly baritone. "Wait, I can explain!"</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnzxrZHw5DgZXRLd7O4EKEcJqWUq-1RBtfwmnFACjzMZL-0jXM1TFHTUuMEED-CTDngCmgLijsBY6pEEh-ui2dR9SFzcatMtwaHdixn1zPmJOlwpSKkfHKy-0jVZ2c1JVMZluNFrQmXJJekKpUYJC0T0I-1ZdLoKs0dapF_PZMAraohuqG3W2DAXbrb0yY/s1200/tumblr_nqw5reih291sbt19eo4_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1029" data-original-width="1200" height="548" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnzxrZHw5DgZXRLd7O4EKEcJqWUq-1RBtfwmnFACjzMZL-0jXM1TFHTUuMEED-CTDngCmgLijsBY6pEEh-ui2dR9SFzcatMtwaHdixn1zPmJOlwpSKkfHKy-0jVZ2c1JVMZluNFrQmXJJekKpUYJC0T0I-1ZdLoKs0dapF_PZMAraohuqG3W2DAXbrb0yY/w640-h548/tumblr_nqw5reih291sbt19eo4_1280.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>----------<p></p><p>Jackie was so excited to share this special Valentine's treat with her BF. She was browsing her favourite WitchTok channels and one of them was advertising the cutest his and her elixirs, just for the occasion! They would drink the aphrodisiacs, and not only would it make their night far more passionate, but it would actually change their bodies to better portray the other's ideal. They even came pre-mixed and with little labels to tell the bottles apart. The purple, sparkly liquid was super adorable, and she knew Miles would be over the moon when they both became the perfect couple.<br /></p><p>Even now, as Jackie looked at herself in the mirror, she was wondering how she would change. She was already pretty stunning with a natural beauty, none of that plastic or botox her friends had all used. Her bountiful, reddish-brown hair fell in luscious curls around her shoulders, highlighting her narrow features. And while she was rather petite, she still had curves in all the right places. But with this vial, she could become the ultimate beauty, the woman that all men desire, and all women envy. Without even a second glance, she uncorked her vial and downed it in one.</p><p>While she waited for the magic to happen, Jackie popped a hand into a shopping bag and pulled out some black silk lingerie. She was going to look so sexy, Miles would be ravishing her all night long. She undressed, and prepared to put on the underwear, when something caught her eye. Her legs were hairier than usual. She rubbed a hand over her calves with disgust. She was sure she'd waxed them recently, and it never grew back this fast. She couldn't risk Miles seeing her with hairy legs, potion or no potion! She threw open the bathroom cabinet, digging out her hair removal kit, and slammed it shut.</p><p>The sight of herself in the mirror gave Jackie a fright. She looked different... Of course she expected she would, but this wasn't right. She thought she would get a slimmer waist, bigger breasts and hips, a softer, more rounded face. But that wasn't what she saw. Her breasts looked like they had actually shrunk in size. And her waist had grown thicker, until her hourglass figure had become more rectangular in appearance, with no discernible difference between chest, waist, or hips. Curious, she slipped her silk bra over her arms, and pouted. Her breasts barely even filled the new lingerie, and were shrinking before her eyes. Yet despite her deflating chest, the bra still felt too tight to properly do up. So she chucked it to the side, confused as ever. Next, she tried slipping her panties up, but they could barely fit over her calves, let alone her thighs. They were all her usual size. It was almost as if she had grown thicker all round. Not just thicker, she noticed, but there was abnormal hair growth. Her arm hair was more noticeable, and her usually trimmed pubes were growing well out of control.<br /></p><p>"All the comments were so positive," she mumbled to herself. "What the fuck is in this potion..." She picked up the vial, and looked for any kind of ingredients list. All she found was a little sticker on the front. It was a large circle with an arrow points upwards, like an erect penis. She froze. That was the universal symbol of masculinity. She forgot to look at the potions before handing them over. Which meant she hadn't drunk the potion for women, she'd drunk...</p><p>The sound of the vial clacking against the sink brought Jackie back to reality. She'd drank the wrong potion! But it couldn't be that bad, right? She looked back in the mirror, and screamed. The changes had progressed even further now, as any trace of her feminine facial features had all but faded away, her brow had gotten heavier, her jawline more rectangular. And her angular cheeks were all but hidden by the appearance of a dense, dark beard that was ever growing. <br /></p><p>"Holy fuck! Fuckfuckfuck! I fucked it up!" She gasped to herself, her voice growing increasing deeper and gravelly. The sudden hair growth didn't stop there, as more and more ginger hairs were sprouting across her torso, covering what used to be some bountiful breasts, now more like solid slabs of beef, with a generous carpet of chest hair. The carpet spread further down to smother her stomach with the unwanted hairs. Her waist had gotten even thicker, as a slight belly stuck out and hid her once perfect abs.<br /></p><p>Then the worst change of all came about. She groaned as she could feel her sexual organs shifting within her, making the move from internal to external. She couldn't bare to watch as it was like a bulbous creature was crawling out of her vagina. She kept her eyes closed, begging that the awful sensation would come to a stop. She could feel her clitoris enlarging, swelling as it flopped out and formed her new penis. Or her ovaries being pushed out into a sack of saggy skin, their function shifting from eggs to sperm as they grew into a pair of hefty testes.<br /></p><p>"Honey, you okay?"<br /></p><p>Jackie's head darted to the door. Miles was going to freak if he saw her looking like this! She immediately barked "DON'T COME IN HERE!" But immediately regretted it, as her voice was now completely foreign to her. In fact, there wasn't a single part of her that she recognised. By now, it appeared her changes were over. She cringed as she noticed her newly grown penis bounce against her newly grown ballsac. With a hesitant hand,
she reached down and prodded the alien growth, shivering from the
feeling. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. From the rugged, bearded face, to the meaty, hairy torso, down to the soft, vulnerable cock. There was a distinct lack of femininity. He gazed into the mirror with a pained expression. All she saw reflected back at him was a man. Even in her mind, she was struggling to think of himself as a woman, his thoughts and pronouns changing in mid-sentence. How could this Valentine's Day take such a wrong turn? The store didn't mention if the changes were temporary or not. Was he going to be a man forever? He didn't want to be a man, how would he even explain it? He drank the wrong potion? That's dumb, this was a dumb idea. Why did he-<br /></p><p>His existential thoughts of despair were cut short by the sound of the door opening, and a short squeak. He turned to see Miles backing away from the bathroom, tripping over his feet and falling back onto the bed. <br /></p><p>"Miles! Wait, I can explain!"<br /></p><p>----------</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPQah3RIwX0zG5N-U7tzDks43xzBcvMMUqTk3udzNCJUavZV87uQtjgn60prMgNrg22t2l13NGkWrQua4sgjD9b7HVq9YqZNlprbIZW1JPi53QNQF86-YiuHde5R6lyfP7m255C6tWYsQjEIBv2k4AFNcETi7oi4p3ap0csSVlmV4c3psJEwLG2VfWLC5/s1200/tumblr_nqrnq6PGsd1qd5cr2o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1029" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPQah3RIwX0zG5N-U7tzDks43xzBcvMMUqTk3udzNCJUavZV87uQtjgn60prMgNrg22t2l13NGkWrQua4sgjD9b7HVq9YqZNlprbIZW1JPi53QNQF86-YiuHde5R6lyfP7m255C6tWYsQjEIBv2k4AFNcETi7oi4p3ap0csSVlmV4c3psJEwLG2VfWLC5/w548-h640/tumblr_nqrnq6PGsd1qd5cr2o1_1280.jpg" width="548" /></a></div><p></p><p>He leaned against the bathroom door and sighed. "So that's it. I should have checked beforehand, but I didn't. So now I'm this gross, bulky, hairy man..."<br /></p><p>Miles stared up at Jackie, processing the entire story. Even now, there was a disconnect between Jackie his girlfriend, and Jackie the naked bear before him. But any other explanation he could think of didn't make sense. He stood up, and approached him. He swung both arms around the man, and gave him a tight hug. "You're not gross at all," he said softly. "You are hairy, and bulky, and most definitely a man. But you're not gross."<br /></p><p>"You're just saying that..."</p><p>"Of course I'm not! You said it yourself, the potion makes you the other person's ideal. And I'm bi, so it's taken on my preferences for guys, and I've never been one for androgyny. You were already the perfect woman in my eyes, so I doubt you would have changed much, if at all. But I also really love big, hirsute, masculine men, exactly how you look right now. You are my perfect man, even if you don't feel like it. " </p><p>Hearing Miles say that did make Jackie feel a little better. He may not like being so burly, but at least Miles finds him attractive, woman or man. It was the potion's intended purpose, after all. And Miles was his perfect man too. Wiry, not too hairy, with a full head of hair, a sensible beard, and a modestly sized cock. There wasn't anything that he would change. "Maybe I should have appreciated what we already had."<br /></p><p>"If it makes you feel any better, I could drink my thing and then I'll be a woman, and that would even things out a little?"</p><p>"You don't have to do that," Jackie grumbled with a heavy sigh. "You might be bi, but I only have eyes for men. It'd be weird making love to another woman, especially when I'm so-"<br /></p><p>"Wait a minute!" Miles suddenly interrupted. "I didn't drink my thing!" He rushed back over to the vanity, only to mutter a profanity as he held up an empty bottle. "Fuck, I didn't put the cork back on before checking on you... It's all over the table... I am so sorry! You could have changed back..."<br /></p><p>"No, no. It figures this would happen." Jackie threw his hands up in the air, and crossed to the other side of the room, throwing himself onto the sofa. Any hopes of changing back were short-lived. Not that he had expected it to work. Magic was finnicky. He had become Miles' ideal man, and any change to that would go against the potion's intentions. He buried his head in his hands, flinching as he felt his bearded face. It was a sensation he would have to get used to, along with everything else that made him a man. "I should've been more open about what the potions were. Then maybe we could have drank them together, and we wouldn't be in this mess..."<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj6qaac-AIw7sVI2qIKDnlVdjB-DylCBGyWAgshasAB3PDUlyM7NNeUxeyHr5fYJAhjdWMixcq0gEtNsS5YEcorWxzkZFwgfhXB9Lec4L7MwQ9umiyH-WsQS9XyHecJtKwzpDcfJ1hIUIuH4GGwAFT9PtL_pNrh76zX5dOy5wdqddAWYoj_3eXo_8-MxMb/s1200/tumblr_nqw5reih291sbt19eo3_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1029" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj6qaac-AIw7sVI2qIKDnlVdjB-DylCBGyWAgshasAB3PDUlyM7NNeUxeyHr5fYJAhjdWMixcq0gEtNsS5YEcorWxzkZFwgfhXB9Lec4L7MwQ9umiyH-WsQS9XyHecJtKwzpDcfJ1hIUIuH4GGwAFT9PtL_pNrh76zX5dOy5wdqddAWYoj_3eXo_8-MxMb/w548-h640/tumblr_nqw5reih291sbt19eo3_1280.jpg" width="548" /></a> <br /></div><p></p><p>Seeing how down Jackie was, Miles couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible. They each wanted to make the night special, but didn't even think to communicate with each other. But the night was still young. He sat down on the sofa, and cozied up to the larger man, rubbing a hand thought his ginger chest hair. "You know," he cooed, turning his attention to Jackie's thick beard. "Tonight hasn't been a complete bust. It's been a while since I've been intimate with another man, and I can't say that I haven't thought about it while we've been together. So maybe we could give this a try." </p><p>"I don't know, it feels a little weird," Jackie grumbled. Having Miles' hands fondling his bearish build was certainly titillating in a way, that underlying horniness he'd been trying to ignore was bubbling to the surface. But it didn't feel right just yet, either.<br /></p><p>Miles leaned in and kissed Jackie on the cheek, then chuckled. "Is this how it feels when you kiss me?" He leaned in closer, and went for the lips, their beards rustling against one another. Jackie moaned lightly, shifting in his seat as he felt an unusual, pleasurable sensation in his crotch. He glanced down, and his eyes widened as he saw his cock twitching and lengthening. "See? Looks like someone's getting into it." Miles grinned as he reached down to Jackie's dick, wrapping a hand around it and feeling it get ever more erect within his grip. Then he slowly rubbed his hand up and down the shaft, while Jackie laid back panting and shuddering from his touch. </p><p>"M-Miles..." Jackie whimpered, unable to keep his lover away. He wanted to grab him, and push him away, but the pleasure was overwhelming. His feet twitched, and his hips thrusted as Miles continued with his hands on session. After a good minute, Jackie couldn't hold back any longer. A jolt of pleasure ran up his spine, his breath caught in his throat, and his hips buckled as load after heavy load came gushing out from his cock. Hot, salty cum splattered across his chest, and decorated his beard. Even more splashed over Miles' cheeks, who couldn't help but wipe it off and lick his fingers.<br /></p><p>"Mmmm, Good man," Miles cooed into Jackie's ear. "And that's only the beginning of what we can do tonight. I'm going to show you a whole new world, Jackie boy." With that he suddenly leapt up and grabbed for his crotch, finally ripping off his tearaway underwear, tossing them aside and waving his own proud cock about. He sat down on Jackie's lap, their cocks batting against each other in their erect glory. "I hope you're ready, because I haven't bottomed since my last break-up, and I've been waiting for a big, strong, hairy man to fuck me raw."</p><p>Jackie's eyes widened as Miles slid further up his body, pressing his ass cheeks against his cock. This was a whole new side of his boyfriend that he hadn't seen before, and he liked it. All of those doubts and self pity he'd been battling with had vanished, pushed out along with his first ejaculation. The horniness had finally been set free. It was time to let loose, and enjoy his new body. Jackie growled as he grabbed Miles's waist and guided him to victory. "Bring it on, little man!"<br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-67231858496672069332023-12-16T15:59:00.000-08:002023-12-16T16:00:45.557-08:00A Grizzly Christmas Wish<p>It was a chilly weekend morning when I received the text from Kris. "Hey, Bobby and I are in town for the weekend! Let's do Christmas lunch so we can catch up!" They were my closest friends back in high school, but since I moved downtown, we barely see each other. It'd be nice to catch up, and god knows I have nothing better to do. But I just know they're going to be all lovey-dovey around each other, and I'll have to face the questions about my relationship, or lack of one. It's been one break-up after another for me. Not all of us can be high school sweethearts...<br /></p><p>While I was busy decorating the apartment for Christmas, and debating whether I should pretend to be sick, I found a Santa hat buried at the very bottom of the box. Clearly a leftover from last year's office party. I remembered stories from when I was a kid, where making a wish while wearing Santa's hat would make them come true. It was a little silly, but I couldn't help myself. I pulled it on my head, closed my eyes, and spoke aloud. "I wish I had a date that I could take to lunch." Before I could even open my eyes again, a loud knocking jolted me back to reality. I wasn't expecting any deliveries, or even any visitors. There's no way...</p><p>The knock came again, louder. I tossed the hat onto the sofa and darted to the door, taking a quick peek in the peephole before opening it with a big grin. It was my neighbor, Sophia. She moved in a few months ago, and there was an immediate sexual tension between us, Anyone with common sense could see the sparks we had whenever we crossed paths. "Heeey," I growled, trying not to seem too excited by fate finally bringing us together. "What's up, Soph?"</p><p>"Oh Tom," she cooed. "I'm so glad you're home. Do you have any plans today?"</p><p>"Well, that depends. What did you have in mind?" </p><p>"I need to run some errands, and out of the blue, my babysitter called to say she couldn't make it." My heart dropped as she shuffled aside, and little Casey, her young son, popped into frame. "I don't suppose you could look after him for the day? Please?" Sophia pouted her lip a little, looking at me with expectant eyes. So much for that hot date... </p><p>With a heavy sigh, I nodded my head and said, "sure. I can do that."</p><p>"Thank you so much!" She gave me a quick hug before waving me off. "I owe you big time, Tommy!"</p><p>"You sure do..." I mumbled under my breath before closing the door. Casey's cute and all, but this wasn't what I had in mind. Still, it was a great excuse to get out of this lunch. When I returned to the living room, I was surprised to find Casey with his hands on the Santa hat. "Why do you have one of these?" He asked. He squinted his eyes. "Are you Santa?"</p><p>"What? No! I've been decorating, and found it in one of the boxes." I sat down next to him. "You know, when I was your age, my mama told me that if you wear one and wish extra hard, Santa will grant your biggest wish."</p><p>He gasped, and yanked the hat onto his little head, quick as a dart. He scrunched up his face, and cried out, "I wish I was a bear!"</p><p>I let out a snort and asked, "A bear? Why would you want to be a bear?"</p><p>"Bears are so cool! They're really, really, big and fuzzy and cute, but they're also mean and scary too, and they live in the forest, and catch fish with their paws, and eat all the honey they want, and scratch their backs on trees, and they get to sleep all the time, and-"</p><p>I shook my head with a laugh. The kid was hilarious. But if the hat couldn't score me a date with Sophia, there was no way it was turning Casey into a bear. I let him babble on while I ducked into the kitchen to get us some snacks, and find a way to word babysitting duties into a well-meaning excuse.<br /><span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>I was only away for a minute when I heard a door slam shut. I rushed to the living room, and Casey was nowhere to be found. The front door was still locked, so he didn't escape, but I didn't want the kid snooping around the place. Who knew what he could dig up about me, and ruin any spark between his mom and I. My bedroom door was shut, so I gave a little knock. "Casey? You in there, buddy?"<br /></p><p>"Stay away," he cried out. "My wish is coming true!"</p><p>I paused a minute. "Your wish?"</p><p>"I'm becoming a bear!" He yelled, his voice filled with excitement. "I'm gonna be a big grizzly bear and live in the woods, but I don't want to eat you, so I gotta stay away in case I don't remember you afterwards!"</p><p>I chuckled to myself and shook my head. Kids can have the wildest imaginations. "I'll be very careful," I said as I opened the door. "But I have a feeling you won't-" I paused mid-sentence as I saw Casey pacing back and forth in my room. Except he wasn't the precocious scamp I was familiar with, he was twice the height and still growing. He looked to be in his late teens, his clothes reduced to rags that scattered the floor.</p><p>"Go away!" He growled, his voice husky and booming as it dropped an octave. He stopped pacing and stood in a defensive pose, his newfound muscles flaring. I should have left or gotten help, but I was transfixed by what was happening. Even now, he was gaining a few more inches in height until he towered over me. And he was gaining a ton of mass, his previously meek frame was filling out with powerful muscle and fat with every passing second. </p><p>Yet as he grew ever more bearish, I couldn't help but notice the things that weren't changing. His hands remained very human-like, not making the shift to a bear-like paw. His posture wasn't shifting to one of a quadruped, he remained very upright. His face wasn't lengthening into a muzzle, nor were his ears gaining the distictive roundness of a bear's. In fact, his jaw was getting more angular as a short, ginger beard spread across his cheeks. And while he was definitely getting hairier, a thick blanket sprouting up across his increasingly burly torso, it still looked like hair instead of the denser fur of a wild animal. In fact, the hair on his head was actually getting shorter and receding back into his scalp. </p><p>Finally, as Casey's perpetual weight gain now focused on the fatter side of things, his pecs drooping slightly and his waistline expanding as his belly bloated outwards, it struck me. He wasn't becoming a bear, he was... I cracked a smile, which led to a small chuckle, which came to full blown laughter.</p><p>"Why are you laughing? You should be fearing me!" He growled as he bared his still human teeth.</p><p>"I hate to break it to you, Cas, but I think your wish has gone a little awry."<br /></p><p>"What do you mean? I'm big, I'm hairy, and, and-"</p><p>"And you're still human. You're not becoming a grizzly bear, you're becoming a gay bear." He gave me a blank stare, and there was an awkward silence. By now, it appeared his changes were slowing down, and coming to a halt. We were about a similar age now, give or take a few years. But we couldn't be more different in size. I'm a petite, slim, metrosexual kind of fella, and Casey was, well, it's self-explanatory really. "I'm sorry, you were a kid mere moments ago... Well, in the gay world, a man who is hairy and fat is generally referred as a bear. And, well..."</p><p>"So, I'm just an adult? A mere man?" He frowned, and stared down at his belly, before whining "But I wanted to be a bear! A real one, with lots of fur and paws and wiggly ears!" He sat in the chair by my dresser, his body jiggled with the impact, and groaned as he scratched at his beard, processing the reality of his situation. "I don't wanna be a grown up! I don't wanna be fat! I just wanted be a hibernating bear in the woods..."</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiqDmyngDpcq89h8f3FGrlk2xvbpOtxID7JE7edfVua-bTE9wLVTFGzvZgMrgWE4TENCRc4Dhwyy4beDLvkVTX3_VAAwdSV6qo4ktJuDa7ivO8-gGGtkp7D2T1vLSuVfCBuy8229DojIfHEsyRClEKg2rMCvbMkKCsMEYW62j58CG1_kOy-upc5zsC1VoR/s954/tumblr_lcma7p6lg31qc7ddzo1_1280.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="954" data-original-width="680" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiqDmyngDpcq89h8f3FGrlk2xvbpOtxID7JE7edfVua-bTE9wLVTFGzvZgMrgWE4TENCRc4Dhwyy4beDLvkVTX3_VAAwdSV6qo4ktJuDa7ivO8-gGGtkp7D2T1vLSuVfCBuy8229DojIfHEsyRClEKg2rMCvbMkKCsMEYW62j58CG1_kOy-upc5zsC1VoR/w456-h640/tumblr_lcma7p6lg31qc7ddzo1_1280.jpg" width="456" /></a></div> <p></p><p>I wanted to comfort him, but it was probably for the best. For me, at least. I don't know how I would cope with an actual bear in my bedroom. That would be a weird conversation with animal control... But this still presented a big problem. The kid I was babysitting was now a huggable, hairy man. How was I going to explain this to Sophia. She'd never give me a chance now, not when her only son looked more like he could be her big brother now, emphasis on big. I shouldn't have told Casey that stupid story. It's not like the hat even worked for me. Although, maybe if I took the hat and wished hard enough, I could turn him back into a child, and Sophia would be none the wiser!<br /></p><p>Then again, he was quite handsome. There was something quite charming to his bulk. The way his belly hung, spilling over his waist and into his lap. And his body hair gathered in all the right places to emphasis his size. I don't normally find myself attracted to anyone bigger than myself, nor do I care for masculine looking men. Yet there was something alluring about Casey. A big ol' cuddly bear of a man. I bet he'd give the best bear hugs. And a soft belly like that would be perfect as a pillow to lay a weary head upon. Everything about him looked so comforting...<br /></p><p>My phone pinged, and brought me back to reality. It was Kris asking if I was still coming. I stroked my chin, and it hit me. If Casey's wish didn't go quite right, despite being granted, then there's a chance mine may have also gotten twisted by the hat... It was a shot in the dark, but I sent a text back to Kris, and scurried to my wardrobe. I may be half the size of Casey, but I should be able to find something for him to wear...<br /></p><p>"So I know you're wallowing about not being a wild animal and all," I spoke aloud while digging into my seldom worn collection of flannel. "But how's about I treat you to lunch?"<br /></p><p>I tossed some clothes onto the bed, and Casey raised an eyebrow at me prodding the pile. "Aren't you supposed to be babysitting me?" He picked out a red lumberjack shirt and draped it over his shoulders. "Then again, I guess I'm not a baby anymore. There's no reason I should even stay here."<br /></p><p>"C'mon, I have some old friends in town, and I may have just told them a few white lies about the two of us... I'll get you whatever you want to eat. Hell, I'll even get you whatever you want to drink. You're old enough now."</p><p>"Can I get chocolate cake?"</p><p>"You can have the whole damn dessert menu, if you want." He smiled, and nodded his head. "We'll need a cover story of course. How's about we met... At work. Simple enough."</p><p>"Okay... We work in different departments, but we'd always get on the same elevator. And I'd always think you were so cute with your multi-colored suits, and matching bow ties." He smiled at the thought, an adorable grin that lit up the room and left me gushing. How could he be so adorable? "Sometimes I'd even wait around for you to arrive so we could get the same elevator as always."<br /></p><p>"Ah, that's cute. I like that."</p><p>"When we finally managed to get an elevator, just the two of us, I asked you out to dinner. And we've been together ever since."</p><p>"Yeah, that's a real good meet-cute." I threw an arm around his back, and squeezed him tight, my head rested against his chest, his belly pressed against my abs. He really was so cuddly, I couldn't help myself. "It's a little sappy, but I think they'll buy it!"</p><p>"What do you mean?" He asked. "That was how we met." He had gotten dressed by now. I thought the clothes I picked out might have been too small, but they were the perfect size. The jeans were even hemmed perfectly despite being several inches taller than me. He gave me a little kiss on the forehead, and grinned. "You know, I can't wait to meet Kris and Bobby. The legends themselves. It's almost like I'm meeting celebrities, the way you go on about them."<br /></p><p>I froze, I never told Casey their names, or even how important they were to me. That elevator story was far too specific to make up. And now he's putting on a puffer jacket I've never owned, where did he get that!? Was my wish actually coming true, what about Sophia? Wouldn't she worry about me dating her brother when we- I mean, her brot- No, wait. What...<br /></p><p>"Tommy!" I spun back, and Casey was smiling that dopey smile of his, the one that always made me melt. "Are you coming? We wouldn't want to be late."</p><p>"Hold on," I reached up and grabbed the hat off of his head, tossing it aside. "I know you're as big and cuddly as Santa, but let's save it for Christmas morning." It's funny, there was a story my mama used to tell me about Santa's hat,
but I can't remember it, for the life of me. Oh well, it was a
fairytale anyway. </p><p>"Okay," Casey laughed, rubbing a hand over his nude scalp. "I have plenty more hats where that came from." He grabbed a different beanie hat from our wardrobe and tugged it down over his head before scooping his arm out. "Shall we?" </p><p>I looped my arm around his, and he pulled me in close, nuzzling his prickly bearded chin across the top of my head and down my cheek, making me quiver. I stood on my tiptoes as he leaned down further until we locked lips in a short, sweet kiss. I just couldn't wait to introduce my Casey-bear to Kris and Bobby. I just knew they were going to love him as much as I do!</p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-28086630102359113382023-10-31T18:00:00.001-07:002023-10-31T18:10:16.143-07:00My Desired Costume<p>Jack groaned as he rolled his head upright, heavy with a case of grogginess. He hadn't felt this bad after a night out in months. He wasn't even partying wild like his college days, it was only a few drinks with friends. He hadn't reached <i>that</i> age already, had he? But he couldn't remember any specifics. The whole night was a blur. Except for one moment. He left to use the restroom, when he bumped into someone he recognised. Someone that made him feel uneasy. Someone unwanted... But for the life of him, he couldn't remember anything. He gulped, he'd heard stories of people being drugged and assaulted. Was he another victim? Had this mystery person done something to him? Did they spike him? His heart sank at the thought. </p><p>Yet as he tried to tried up to his face to rub the sleep from his eyes, he realised something most unsavory. He couldn't move his arms at all. The shock cleared his mind, allowing him to recognise the danger he was in. He was stood upright, his arms tired behind his back, his feet bound together and locked to the ground. He struggled to break free or even move from his spot, but it was no use. He was stuck. With a sigh, he looked around his environment uneasily. He wasn't just anywhere, he was in his own bedroom.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevT0GhNMyX5MVxIfdaqXKUAqg6F50PtSe1QghlvLFytscwgi3LRtIUZ9Zqd7Lr3fNeSW3S-BI7D8RKsxw3SFTP5hM1V_ZE6JMiFBT-Xksu83pHu7gFeQCRYDCoficU2jhUSaKj5anIPcViHF9Skq6FSXRrTl2srJE1-w31w17K6Q9NwtsGFuBnxd7dmFU/s1200/brutos84586_SteveKelso.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1151" data-original-width="1200" height="614" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevT0GhNMyX5MVxIfdaqXKUAqg6F50PtSe1QghlvLFytscwgi3LRtIUZ9Zqd7Lr3fNeSW3S-BI7D8RKsxw3SFTP5hM1V_ZE6JMiFBT-Xksu83pHu7gFeQCRYDCoficU2jhUSaKj5anIPcViHF9Skq6FSXRrTl2srJE1-w31w17K6Q9NwtsGFuBnxd7dmFU/w640-h614/brutos84586_SteveKelso.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>But who would drug and kidnap someone, only to leave them in their own home? There was only one way to find answers. Jack gulped and cleared his throat. "Hello?" He cried out, just loud enough for a would-be murderer to hear him. "Is anyone there? What's going on!?" There was a sudden bump in the room next door, followed by heavy footsteps that padded straight toward the bedroom door. <span><a name='more'></a></span><p></p><p>The door creaked open, and Jack braced himself for the murderous brute that would be on the other end. But with a bit of courage, he managed to cinch his eyes open. He yelped in genuine surprise In the doorway was his next door neighbour! A rather short, rotund lad with shaggy blond hair and a bad case of acne. Barry, or Boris, or something... Benny? He'd seen the teen many a time around the apartment complex, and he always seemed to be leering at him. Usually Jack ignored it, but it always made him uncomfortable. He didn't mean any harm, after all. Or, at least, that was before he was stripped naked and tied up in his bedroom.</p><p>"Ah, you're awake," the teen sighed. "That's a shame, I was hoping you'd stay knocked out..."</p><p>"<i>You</i> tied me up? You took all my clothes!? What the fuck, man!"<br /></p><p>"Well, you wouldn't comply with me at the bar, so I had no other choice." The color drained from Jack's face. That was right, it was the teen that he ran into the previous night. He'd been seeing him around town more and more, but that was the last straw. Jack accused the kid of stalking him, and was about to leave when he produced that syringe... The teen paced in the room, and chuckled to himself. "I used a little hypnosis concoction I created, all I had to do was give you the commands, and voila. I didn't have to touch a single hair on your pretty, little body." </p><p>"Right, I just stripped myself and tied myself up because The Amazing Brody told me to."<br /></p><p>"Brady, not that it matters... And I didn't tell you to strip. You did that of your own accord. Not that I'm complaning... I merely enchanted the ropes to keep you nice and snug."<br /></p><p>"You're talking shit, you fucking shit-talker! You actually expect me to believe you?"<br /></p><p>"You don't have to. It's all thanks to this, really." Brady produced a little booklet from his back pocket, an unassuming brown with silver lettering. <i>WORKING WITH ALCHEMY.</i> "I found it in a thrift store, and thought it was kinda kitschy at first. But then I tried making my own elixirs, and they actually worked! A whole new world of possibilities opened up to me. And with it being Halloween, the veil between our world and the spirit world is at its thinnest. Which means I can achieve things only possible in my wildest dreams..."</p><p>Jack shivered. What was this brat going to do to him? He'd already been drugged and allegedly hypnotised. Brady was, what, sixteen? Eighteen? He wouldn't do anything uncouth, surely...<br /></p><p>Brady chuckled. "Don't worry, What I have in mind for you is much worse than what you're picturing. You see, I'm still looking for a Halloween costume. And you are just what I had in mind."<br /></p><p>"What? No..."</p><p>"I don't know if you've ever noticed, but I have a little crush on you." Jack had, in fact, noticed. It wasn't exactly subtle. But teens had crushes, so he used to let it slide whenever he noticed the kid watching him from afar. Who knew it would end up like this? Brady continued, "But the more I watched and followed you, seeing you live your life, I realised something. I didn't love you, I envied you. A sexy, wholesome man. A pastry chef, and part-time model. So many friends and people who loved you. And that was when I knew I had to become you by any means necessary." With a little flourish, Brady revealed another syringe filled with a golden liquid. "With the help of this elixir, I'm going to make it happen. I'm going to become Jack Redwood!"</p><p>Jack stared dumbfounded at the creep. "Y-you can't! One, magic doesn't exist! Two, you look nothing like me! Three, there can't be two of us at the same time! What about your family, your friends? If you went missing, and I'm acting different, then the jig is up for you. Brady, please..."<br /></p><p>"I've done all the proper calculations, and if I'm right, Brady will no longer exist. You will no longer exist. There will only be me, the new Jack." And with that, Brady swooped toward his stunned prey.<br /></p><p>There was no time to react. Jack flinched as the cold needle pierced his neck. But the sudden burst of pain was immediately dulled, until only the shock of the situation remained. A peculiar numb sensation swept through his body until he couldn't feel a single thing. Not the wall against his back, the carpet beneath his feet the rope that binded his arms and legs. Nothing. He tried to open his mouth to scream, shout, wail, but it was as if it were full of cotton. All he could do was stare at Brady, his eyes pleading for hope or compassion. But the teen merely smiled that wicked smile.<br /></p><p>With a sudden jolt, Jack's legs collapsed beneath him. He sank to the ground, his back sliding down the wall, caught in slow-motion. Once he hit the ground, an abnormally soft thud that didn't even register any sort of sensation, Jack's eyes darted to his legs, and his heart stopped. He hadn't just collapsed, his legs had simply shrivelled into paper-thin flaps that were rapidly receding up into his torso. He tried to scream once more, but his lips were sealed tight, not even a moan could escape. He twisted his head in a panic, his eyes locked onto the wall of mirrors that hid his wardrobe. It wasn't just his legs, his arms were similarly distorted, flattened into two strips that wobbled uneasily against his hips. Even his cock and balls were collapsing into themselves until nothing remained. He tried to look away from the disturbing reality, but he could no longer move his head. He tried to close his eyes, but they were locked in place. All he could do was watch as the horror unfolded before him.<br /></p><p>This was just a nightmare, Jack concluded. It had to be. He had drunk too much and was experiencing a larger than life nightmare. That was why he felt no pain, very soon he would wake up in his bed, and all would be right. He wasn't shrinking at a rapid pace, his bedroom expanding around him until he was shorter than even his prized boots. His fleshy block of a torso also wasn't being compressed, his noodle arms twisting back to lock together and merge into what was once his hips, now a seamless band of material as thin as cardboard. And his skull certainly wasn't being flattened into a flimsy fabric, his skin getting paler and sheer, his facial features sinking into oblivion, fading away until all traces of his personhood was nothing but a memory. No, none of this was real. It was a nightmare. He wasn't turning into... He couldn't be becoming... It was only... Only...</p><p>------------<br /></p><p>After a brief pause, Brady shuffled over to the spot where there was once a proud human being. Now, all that remained were a small pile of tied rope, and a pair of white underwear. Gingerly, he nudged a toes against the soft piece of fabric, half expecting it to scream or curse him out. But it merely crumpled in on itself. Releasing a heavy sigh, Brady reached down and picked the undergarments up, turning it around in his hands. "I didn't strike you for something so kinky," he chuckled as he marvelled at the underwear, all that remained of Jack Redwood.</p><p>"Well, no point hanging around," he mumbled under his breath. He gently placed his prized briefs on the bedside table, then took off his own clothes, leaving them in a hasty pile on the floor. He picked up the Redwoods, and slid the silky fabric up his pasty legs. He cupped his meagre cock and balls in its inviting pouch, then stood in front of the mirror and pouted at himself. He looked like a squat, stocky teenager in too tight underwear. He didn't feel any different. If anything, he felt ridiculous in his skivvies, alone, in his crush's home. "C'mon, it has to work..." he mumbled under his breath, clenching his fists.<br /></p><p>Finally, he turned away from the mirror, dejected. He reached down to the Redwoods, prepared to take them off and put his clothes back on, when a jolt rushed out from the underwear and up Brady's body. He stood upright, his hands to his side. He stared at the bedside cabinet as it slowly but surely sunk below his line of view. He was getting taller. His head bobbed down to see his pudgy torso was melting away as his feet got ever further away from him. "Holy shit!" He hollered at the top of his voice, which crackled with static, two conflicting voices raging in battle. <br /></p><p>He rushed towards the full-length mirror once again, almost stumbling over his feet as they inched ever larger beneath his soles. "Yes..." he growled to himself, his fingers clumsily pawing at his changing features, brushing a hand through his shortening hair that was losing its blond sheen, darkening to the pitch black that dwelled in his fantasies. "It's really happening... I'm actually becoming Jack... Fuck, yes!" His goofy grin growing wider as his awful acne melted away, a suave mustache and heavy stubble breaking out across his face in its place, the dark shadow scattering across his sharpening jawline. </p><p>He gazed adoringly at his body as the shapeless mound of his former teenaged body was being moulded into the beautiful grooves and muscles of the man he had crushed on for so many years. He groaned under his breath as thousands of dark hairs trickled across his chest and down his abs, giving him a wonderful coating of fur that tickled his fingers as he clutched at his growing pecs with unfound glee. He vibrated as pump after pump of hard-earned muscle pushed out from his biceps and triceps, his thighs radiating outwards as they swelled to tree-trunk proportions. he winced slightly as a large tattoo etched itself onto his upper right arm. <br /></p><p>But the main event wasn't over yet. Brady watched with baited breath as the bulge in his fantastical underwear bobbed and quivered into a once believed unfathomable size. He couldn't take the wait much longer. He snatched at his briefs with greedy hands, yanking them down and releasing the python from within.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLcl6JB9aLksAsJUHDean_exs-1qeMzbVAj_yLYJTUjUqryIeD3Gb3bmtN1pmwjOnku9ZL1lCv-SuaEs4mZKvPqqgA0z4Xulu4vp_S1Fmw8TUC9-FB3JN2iIXxFI_Bvw7wX1u1khzwkv9wpvJnw3di1oewUsQkI3nceCKqr4h260fPBFHwzuvmqukxAz6f/s1200/D9NVqGQWsAAPxYh.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1110" data-original-width="1200" height="592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLcl6JB9aLksAsJUHDean_exs-1qeMzbVAj_yLYJTUjUqryIeD3Gb3bmtN1pmwjOnku9ZL1lCv-SuaEs4mZKvPqqgA0z4Xulu4vp_S1Fmw8TUC9-FB3JN2iIXxFI_Bvw7wX1u1khzwkv9wpvJnw3di1oewUsQkI3nceCKqr4h260fPBFHwzuvmqukxAz6f/w640-h592/D9NVqGQWsAAPxYh.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>"Even the tan line..." he muttered with awe as he gazed at his proudly erect cock with an unsatiable hunger. He grasped it with a shaky hand. His eyes rolled back in sheer ecstacy as an explosion of pleasure bounced through his whole body. "It's mine, it's really all mine!" He roared as load after thick load erupted from his dick, splattering the mirror with gusto. With a satisfied grin, Brady took the pouch of his Redwoods and wiped the pink head of his beautiful penis free of any remaining cum before tucking his junk back inside the cotton confines. He prodded the stained fabric with pride, knowing there would be many more to come. </p><p>But before he could catch his breath, it appeared the changes hadn't come to an end. An abrupt pain seared through Brady's skull, catching him off-guard. He grabbed at his head, and gritted his teeth. Years and years and years of memories flooded into his brain. Birthdays, and holidays, school and work, family and friends, relationships both good and bad, sports and movies and food and hobbies, all of it was being condensed down into Brady's brain, overwhelming and threatening to make him black out entirely. But after a few intense minutes, the deluge of knowledge trickled down to nothing. Brady closed his eyes for one second, and Jack opened his eyes a second later.</p><p>After such an experience, Jack sunk down to his bed, and finally caught his breath. He'd done it. He'd achieved his fantasy, and all it took was a very special pair of underwear. Even now, the existence of that fat, creepy teenager was being whisked away into stardust. Barry, or Boris, or something. Benny? It didn't matter now, he was Jack Redwood, and he was ready to start living his life anew.<br /></p><p>He stared down at the underwear that started it all. The Other Jack. If he even still existed within its confines. Jack gave the pouch a little stroke, and smiled. "I have no idea if you're
conscious or even still alive. But I want you to know, you will always be my lucky underwear. I'm going to wear you whenever I can, as long as I can. Nothing will tear us apart, even when you inevitably get loose and ragged and frayed." He moaned at the thought, slipping his cock out once more. "Yes, you and my cock are going to have a wonderful relationship..."<br /></p><p>He was getting horny once more, but as much as he wanted to spend the night exploring the wonders of his body, it was still Halloween, and he wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. With a heavy sigh, he slid open the wardrobe doors, and scratched at his
stubbly chin with a grin. It was time to let the world see the man that Jack Redwood had become.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKg962J4PjeDv8y_fiWOq2t84vnUQCMcGFu8TFB1WveZbxyhCRHFbJIS79RnR7JVKo1QhKBr8WYrGEzh8ig4wLC7XGzloo731PghFC8x_odXSaYdY61IrCPik1ISsmhfBZpGdm_Q6HW0c0LH0u7ScIyUHyZ1hFNW6kiC1XeENHwM5cQ9Xkl0UsgKk4b7KL/s1200/04.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1200" height="630" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKg962J4PjeDv8y_fiWOq2t84vnUQCMcGFu8TFB1WveZbxyhCRHFbJIS79RnR7JVKo1QhKBr8WYrGEzh8ig4wLC7XGzloo731PghFC8x_odXSaYdY61IrCPik1ISsmhfBZpGdm_Q6HW0c0LH0u7ScIyUHyZ1hFNW6kiC1XeENHwM5cQ9Xkl0UsgKk4b7KL/w640-h630/04.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-88062603241515201142023-10-20T17:27:00.002-07:002023-10-21T03:47:19.596-07:00The First Night<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://agingtime.blogspot.com/2022/10/in-moonlight.html"><b>PART ONE </b></a><br /></p><p>This was it, the night of the full moon. Tonight's the night... I tried to distract myself with a cheesy movie, but I couldn't help but check the clock every 5 minutes, or glance at the closed curtains, fighting the urge to throw them open. When was it supposed to happen? Was it going to hurt? What if nothing happened, would I be okay with that? I groaned, and shoved my face into a pillow. Why can't things be easy!? </p><p>It was only a month ago when my roommate, and now closest confidante, inadvertently revealed his deepest secret to me, a month since I unwittingly put myself at risk, and a month since I was infected... That night was such a blur now. I remember Harry changing, obviously. How could I forget the moment he transformed before my very eyes, his body twisting, contorting, and growing into a full-blown weredad. I didn't even know they existed until that moment. But after that, I only had vague memories of our bodies intertwining in the moonlight, as he pounded my ass in the cold night... Then, I remember waking up the following morning, both of us still in that forest. Harry was young again, and it was clear that we both regretted our actions.</p><p>That first night after, I was questioning everything. I didn't feel any different. I didn't look any different. Harry called them residual days, where the moon still looked full, but was waning in its power. He himself still changed, but he didn't get as old as that first night. He was still daddy material, with a beefy dadbod, and salt & pepper streaks through his hair, but noticeably younger than before. Meanwhile, I was still myself. Maybe I was a little hairier, and thicker. But if I was, I couldn't tell. I began to think I was immune, which was a little disappointing. But Harry said it was all part of the process. Nevertheless, we spent those nights in the bedroom. He broke out his leather, genuinely pleased to have a use for them again, and I offered my body up to him once again. Maybe in the hopes another few rounds would increase my likelihood of gaining that weredad status.<br /></p><p>All was forgotten as the moon continued its cycle from full to new and back again. That is until the past week. I noticed something peculiar. I was finding myself drawn to the smell of leather and fine tobacco. The taste of a rare steak, and a good brandy. I felt a desire to wear a suit and tie that I'd never consider outside of a wedding. And even stranger, I was beginning to think of men around my age as being boys, and far younger than myself. I wanted to guide them, and teach them in the ways of the flesh, as they submitted their bodies to me... Even now, I get the chills thinking about it. Surely it meant something. That I was preparing for the change. But I was too scared to ask Harry about it, in case it wasn't...<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>I was getting nervous now. I left work early, so that I could have time to prepare. I didn't know what to expect. Thankfully, I still had Harry by my side. I could tell he was pleased to not have to hide away for a few nights like he used to for all those months we'd been roommates. There was no need, we were both weredads now. I hoped. I still couldn't tell which outcome would be preferable.<br /></p><p>Harry came into the room in his full leather gear. Harness, vest, spats, the works. The fact he was still the rake-thin twink he usually was, and thus he was practically swamped by the get-up, made me chuckle. It was good to laugh, it took my mind off of other things. "The amount of times I wear this, you'd think I'd remember how much it chafes," he mumbled as he tossed some of his wardrobe by my side. "Thought you might want to give it a try."</p><p>"Maybe after I've changed," I said. "If I change..." I'd actually put on some old clothes I was planning to give away to a thrift store, just in case. The thought of outgrowing my closet was intoxicating, though I didn't want to ruin any of my actual clothes. That would be wasteful.</p><p>"Well, there's only one way to find out," Harry announced as he strode over to the windows, grabbing a hold of each curtain, and throwing them open with as much flourish as a man wrapped in leather could. I flinched at the sight of the night sky, and jumped to my feet. I could see the moon high above, its ethereal light flooding the room with a soft glow. I gazed up at it, transfixed. It was so beautiful. I could almost reach out and touch it. I raised a hand up to the window, wishing I could be under the gaze of its watchful eye, when I felt a sudden twitch. A jerking motion that ran through my body. I spun away from the window, and looked around. Harry was nowhere to be seen, he'd left me alone... That sudden jerk ran through my body once more. I felt a twisting in my gut, followed by a guttoral growl that escape from my throat. And it began. </p><p>I gritted my teeth as wave after wave of excruciating pain flooded through me. Harry said nothing about this being so painful! I stumbled away from the window, regretting everything that had led me to this moment. I fell against the counter, and gripped it tight. My body felt like it was on fire. Through the pain, I managed to glance at my arms, and I could see the skin rippling, my muscles pulsing underneath. It was sickening to witness up close. An unbearable heat rushed through me, and I grabbed at my shirt, clawing at the fabric as the harsh warmth focussed around my chest. I couldn't take much more. A fuzziness flooded my head, and my vision blurred. Then, darkness.<br /></p><p>When I came to, I was laying on the floor. My head was throbbing, but the pain that had rendered me unconscious had all but dissipated. I groaned, and pushed myself up to lean against the wall. The first thing I noticed was my skin had darkened to a golden hue, a tan that my pasty, white ass could never normally achieve. Then I noticed my tattoos had faded a little, their colour less vivid than before. And of course, I noticed my cock as it ached for my attention, proudly erect and free to the world as I had ripped my clothes to shreds during the fever. It had to have doubled in size, thicker and veinier, and nestled within a forest of greying pubes. My breath caught in my throat. Not only was I far hairier than I used to be, there were a lot of grey hairs mixed in with the black. But where it gathered most was across my chest, like a soft blanket of snow. The sight had fully awakened me, as I scrambled to my feet in search of a mirror.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinihsSBEZKlYhWgrqds9f8kDhl0DA4BjgtTDgTwo5fiK_D6ST_PXUvr0DTOHSCwo4jbOkOWpWZmPt2GmNBY15K-wHN79gMWhn6WdHAby6_Vwy3PtKWFlvEzsXjZ44MTuie7PLsNY_HR2A73C2kvacDlRj7S87l-l91dwm0dNhEeReV9_CSu5Xa9-UuzNKc/s1280/images_blog_posts_Adam-Dupuis_2016_09_15_2K6A3872-update-V8.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="878" data-original-width="1280" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinihsSBEZKlYhWgrqds9f8kDhl0DA4BjgtTDgTwo5fiK_D6ST_PXUvr0DTOHSCwo4jbOkOWpWZmPt2GmNBY15K-wHN79gMWhn6WdHAby6_Vwy3PtKWFlvEzsXjZ44MTuie7PLsNY_HR2A73C2kvacDlRj7S87l-l91dwm0dNhEeReV9_CSu5Xa9-UuzNKc/w640-h440/images_blog_posts_Adam-Dupuis_2016_09_15_2K6A3872-update-V8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>I gazed at myself, unable to put words to my feelings. The man before me was far more experienced and rugged than mere moments before. With skin weathered by the elements, and a shaggy white beard that combined with the steel grey hair atop his head. I brushed a hand through my hair, watching that mysterious man copy my movements. I had to say, I was a little relieved to not have gone bald in the commotion. Yet there was still a disconnect between me and my reflection. Because that guy couldn't be me. He was handsome, he was distinguished, he was old... How old was I? Younger than Harry was, maybe. With all that white hair, it was difficult to say. At the very least, I was in far better shape than he was. I was beefy, with bulging biceps and a chest even women would be envious of. It was a far cry from the slender man that I used to be. And it didn't pain me to say that I liked it. All of those regrets and fears over the past month had vanished as I gazed into the eyes of the mature man I had become, a smile finally cracking through my beard.<br /></p><p>A low whistle brought me back to my senses, and I turned to see Harry in his full weredad glory, his leather vest now rested snug against his broad, hefty body, a cap perched atop his smooth scalp. "Well, well, well. You certainly grew into your looks. In fact, I'd say you're looking mighty fine," he growled with a nod of approval.<br /></p><p>"You're not so bad yourself," I replied in a husky, dulcet tone far different to my normal voice. The bass tones of it sent a shiver up my spine. I cleared my throat, then asked, "So how old are we exactly?"</p><p>"There's no exact science to it. We could be twenty years older, or forty. It's magic, the best I can say is we are prime daddy material."</p><p>"You got that right," I muttered, running a hand over my chest. The silvery wires slipped through my calloused fingers, and I gave my nipple a little tweak, moaning at the feeling. If I didn't already have a raging erection... I was pent up with an abject horniness, and I was yearning for a release. Yet when I looked at Harry, that wild, primal urge to breed that I felt that cold, autumn night a mere month ago was non-existent. "God I'm so horny!" I finally admitted with a cry. "Don't you feel turned on right now? Why aren't we going at it like wild animals?"<br /></p><p>"Well, we're both daddies. Our natural musk, and alpha pheromones cancel each other out. Not that I'm saying I wouldn't be interested." He gave me a good one-over with a wink. "But it's not going to help. We weredads need the warm, submissive embrace of a young man a good twenty or thirty years our senior to truly feel satisfied."</p><p>"So what do we do? I don't really want to create another weredad," I lied. I was desperate to spread my seed, and bring my very own boy into the fold the same way that Harry did to me. And there were so many places I could go to find the perfect specimen. I mean, in this apartment building alone...<br /></p><p>Harry chuckled to himself, unconvinced. "Well, I do know a good place close by." He nodded to the leather he gave me earlier. "Bears Delight. It caters to the older crowd. The guy who owns the joint holds a leather pride gathering every month for like-minded men, if you know what I mean. I haven't visited in a while, since I was trying to go cold turkey. Trying to find more holistic avenues to handling the change, and it gets pretty rowdy at times. But for a newbie like you, it's the best way to meet our kind, and find some support. And I'd really love to see the gang again."</p><p>"A whole bar that caters to weredads every month?" I said, a little astounded. Just how many of us were out there? "Surely bottling such raw intense masculinity and libido in one building isn't a good idea. What if a young guy turned up to the bar expecting an actual meet with leather enthusiasts?"</p><p>"Well, they wouldn't be a young guy for much longer." Harry replied bluntly. "Now gear up, and let's get going. I'm hankering for a whiskey on the rocks."</p><p>I grabbed the harness, and yanked it into place, shivering as the cool leather pressed against my bare chest, my silver chest hair brushing against it. Then I put on the leather jockstrap, grumbling as I tried to shove my erection into its sweaty confines. It was going to be tough trying to control the urge to dominate and breed the first twenty-something I came across. But with Harry by my side, I hoped he'd at least guide me through my first night. That is, if the pure scent of two weredads didn't lead to boys crawling at our feet. Just the thought alone had my head swimming. I wiped away the pre-cum that was leaking from my desperate cock with a sigh, and grabbed the other clothes Harry had provided me. It was going to be a long night if I didn't get to fuck a sweet, young stud, and drain my balls into his welcome ass. I'd never felt so horny in my life. I was the epitome of manliness, a weredad in the making, and I felt caged if I couldn't treat a young lad to the salty, musky taste of my sweaty cock and balls. These thoughts of sex and debauchery were drowning out everything else. I needed to make love. to copulate. to fornicate. to breed. to fuck. Fucking. Fuck. Fuck...<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1AIdxWsGVyCQSQl3naWpS-gdcT6EAXbrR6LSNpmcHaRVNX6h36xP01TMcLIyzIQCwsSJEoNikghaSOq473-LXPH-CoqIi2-diLMCyaBDaWO7LXC-MNCf8ln2L9PEZso52kxN7CcEcXu1-2RAamxtg7bUdUV25nTkc3ydXxHN8FzLRJCRkHGnKMQRhRbO/s1280/large.DatenightinNYCwithGabeLaDukeandAnthonyVarrecchia-14.jpg.7150facbe3321c24b4d491b15f9296cb.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1065" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1AIdxWsGVyCQSQl3naWpS-gdcT6EAXbrR6LSNpmcHaRVNX6h36xP01TMcLIyzIQCwsSJEoNikghaSOq473-LXPH-CoqIi2-diLMCyaBDaWO7LXC-MNCf8ln2L9PEZso52kxN7CcEcXu1-2RAamxtg7bUdUV25nTkc3ydXxHN8FzLRJCRkHGnKMQRhRbO/w532-h640/large.DatenightinNYCwithGabeLaDukeandAnthonyVarrecchia-14.jpg.7150facbe3321c24b4d491b15f9296cb.jpg" width="532" /></a></div>"Hey Batman, are you coming or not?" I glanced over to Harry, who was stood by the door, and cocked an eyebrow. "You know, because you're brooding in leather?"<p></p><p>"Right..."</p><p>"Jeez, first timers... Time for an intervention." He sauntered up to me, and planted a solid kiss on the lips. "I'm only doing this for you once, alright?" I watched as he sank down to the floor, and unzipped my jockstrap, freeing my cock once more. Before I could even react, he grabbed it by the base and deepthroated the motherfucker, leaving me gasping from the intense pleasure. I scrambled helplessly at him, trying to grip and guide him, but he was clearly more experienced than I. Within a minute, a powerful judder enveloped me, and I came right down his throat. He slipped my dripping dick free, and wiped his mouth with a chuckle. "Oh dearie me," he grunted. "I hope you have better control than that when we're in the thick of it at the Bear. It'll be embarrassing if you're the first to tap out, so to speak."</p><p>I pushed him away with a breathy growl. "Shut up, you just caught me off-guard..." But his intervention was well needed. That invasive brain fog had finally cleared. I was still craving the embrace of a man half my age, of course, but it wasn't so intense. I could finally focus on matters at hand. I finished getting dressed, and followed Harry to the door. It was my first night as a weredad, joining the paternal community that was built up in this crazy town, and I was going to savor every last minute of it.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-13359219609950899372023-09-30T16:44:00.001-07:002023-09-30T16:46:07.112-07:00What About The Ritual<p style="text-align: center;"><i> <a href="https://agingtime.blogspot.com/2023/05/a-ritual.html">PART ONE </a></i><br /></p><p>The past week has been one of the strangest in my life, and yet also one of the best experiences I've had in a long time. Now, as the week was drawing to a close, there was a sense of melancholy, the kind you felt as your vacation was drawing to a close. I wasn't quite ready to go back to the way things were, yet I'd certainly had my fill. All I had to do now was pack my suitcase. Or rather, find Greg and get him to do it. Technically, it was his, after all.</p><p>I hadn't heard much from him this morning. It was like he was avoiding me, drawing out the inevitable. Which was ridiculous, he was the one who had gotten the worst end of the stick this week! And yet, I couldn't find him anywhere in the house.</p><p>Eventually, I thought to check the back yard, and there he was, resting on the porch. He was topless, stood in the last beams of the available sun, and quietly puffing on a cigar, which made me frown. "Hey," I called out as I approached. "What are you doing out here for?"</p><p>"Soaking in the sun, smoking a cigar." He replied nonchalantly.<br /></p><p>"I can see that," I grumbled. "I just wish you would've asked first. Those cigars were a gift, I don't like wasting them on such frivolities."</p><p>He merely grunted, and blew a puff of smoke out into the breeze. "Believe me, I already know." He tapped his bald noggin with a grin. "I figured it was a special occassion for me. The last chance I'd have to smoke one, given how you're supposed to -" He paused for a second. "How I'm supposed to head home today."<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd00LCloq1AYxWYfBUSt-MbKcfW-b2xSERtgznXbkVknbizOFaHDwfH4PTJUPXakD2I-UBwGFLtK0z2bVe2vW6SaXrCezlzob7B-FAc9nlrzDazkqwNdJvx2OwcJ1i1c-1x2TKuxFjRbKfaCkFSpSRoAY1JgpPQnnmY1Oaw3ELKZ0J3cSsnyCNf0L8OQ/s1600/EZsex_7X0AU9NoW1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd00LCloq1AYxWYfBUSt-MbKcfW-b2xSERtgznXbkVknbizOFaHDwfH4PTJUPXakD2I-UBwGFLtK0z2bVe2vW6SaXrCezlzob7B-FAc9nlrzDazkqwNdJvx2OwcJ1i1c-1x2TKuxFjRbKfaCkFSpSRoAY1JgpPQnnmY1Oaw3ELKZ0J3cSsnyCNf0L8OQ/w480-h640/EZsex_7X0AU9NoW1.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><p></p><p>"Yeah, yeah. Just wrap it up quick. We still have to do the ritual before your mom gets here, or you'll be stuck being Grandpa Greg until Thanksgiving, at least."<br /></p><p>"MbeIwntbgrmpagreg," he grumbled under his breath. Something nonsensical, before he raised his voice. "Maybe you should pack if you really wanna get rid of me that badly."</p><p>"Excuse me?"</p><p>"Pack my bags while I finish this cigar. Or else it'll go to waste. Then we can do the whole switcharoo."</p><p>I tried to think of a comeback, but I could only grumble. As much as I hate him smoking my vintage cigars, I also don't want it to be wasted halfway in. And it wasn't as if Greg had packed much, I could be done in half an hour, tops. Besides, I was done arguing about these totems once again. I gave him a final death glare, before turning back to the house with a huff.<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>----------<br /></p><p>The first day after the change was pretty good. I had boundless energy that I hadn't felt in decades, and I was raring to make the most of it. I had the whole day planned out, much to the behest of Greg, who wanted nothing more than to rest, and watch TV. His whole demeanor had changed almost overnight. He'd become grouchy and irritable, complaining about pretty much everything he set his sights on. Of course, being fifty years older was going to be a toll on the lad, but it seemed almost like a caricature.<br /></p><p>I eventually recognised what he was experiencing was nicotine withdrawal. He mellowed somewhat after I allowed him to smoke my pipe. Begrudgingly, of course.
It's practically a family heirloom. I offered to show him how to use it
properly, but he managed to pack the tobacco and light it like a pro. In
fact, it dawned on me that I couldn't even remember how to use a pipe at
all. It was a horrid feeling. Something I would do every single day,
like clockwork, extinguished from my memory...</p><p>Even weirder, the sight of Greg smoking didn't feel me with jealousy, or
envy. It made me feel disgust. Unpleasant. Like the mere thought of
tobacco felt icky, the smoke settling in my body. Is this what Greg used
to feel when he saw me smoking? He did use to excuse himself if I sat
down with him, pipe in teeth. I know it's a nasty habit, but the
revelation was eye-opening. I hope I can recall those unpleasant feelings
when we
swap back. Nicotine withdrawal is a sonnuvabitch, but maybe I can
finally quit the habit. Then again, despite Greg's apparent hatred, he took to the pipe like a duck to water. I supposed the swap makes fools of us all.<br /></p><p>While Greg had gained some composure after breakfast, he was still testy about taking me about taking me around the city. But in this new reality, I'm apparently still learning how to drive. It's usually second nature to me, and yet when I sat at the wheel, I could actually feel the gaps in my knowledge gnawing at my brain. Knowledge that Greg was suddenly well aware of. It's hard to explain this lack of knowing something you used to. It's a hollow recollection, like the vestigia of deja vu.</p><p>We started at the skate park downtown, where a part of my brain had unlocked these spectacular tricks that I was putting to the test on the half-pipe. When I wasn't skidding off of my board, that is. But even the pros take a tumble every now and then. And It felt good to
get knocked about, while still being able to get up and give it another
go. I could never do that at my old age. Greg, meanwhile, sat on the outskirts of the park with the newspaper,
giving the crossword a go, smoke billowing from his pipe. </p><p>Then we went to the activity center that opened recently, with rock climbing, and laser tag, and one of those inflatable obstacle courses. It was like young heaven, and just the best way to exhaust all of my pent up energy. Unlike Greg, who decided he would rather go and browse the antique market down the road, like a boring, old man. Finally, we went to a fantastic pizza joint where I practically ate an entire extra large pizza to myself, while Greg mostly stuck to the salad bar, and a glass of ginger ale.</p><p>After my day of fun, I was fully prepared to swap back. I didn't need to continue pretending. And I really didn't want to face going back to school. However, Greg was still insisting we stick to the week. Even after a day of crosswords and salads, he still wanted to remain a grandpa. At this point, I was more than worried about my first day back at school in four decades. I was prepared for the worst. Not even my original worries of not understanding the current curriculum or being up to date with the latest trends. Was there a life-changing exam? Was someone bullying Greg? Or even threatening his life? Whatever it was, it was bad enough to make him want to stay a grumpy, old man.</p><p>So that first day back at school was... alright, actually. It turned out that I was one of the more popular kids. Not only that, but I'm an ace tennis champ, with colleges already lined up, begging me to take their scholarships! I didn't even have to worry about my classes. Much like how I lost my driving knowledge, and gained skateboarding skills, I'd somehow gained general wisdom elsewhere. It was nice to let my brain go on auto-pilot, and feel myself be one of the guys. Every other day at school was more of the same. A lovable jock with perfectly average grades that people let pass due to my charming, dopey personality. I really could not fathom why Greg was so afraid of going back.</p><p>He won't admit it, of course. Whenever I bring up the topic of swapping back into our own bodies, he manages to find an excuse or a diversion tactic to delay things even further. He didn't even seem happy with his new life. Whenever I came back from school, he was on the sofa smoking his pipe, and watching old game shows. It was pathetic to see. He was a shadow of his former self.<br /></p><p>---------- <br /></p><p>As I zipped up the small suitcase Greg had brought with him, I cracked a grin. I don't know why I was complaining, it took me all of fifteen minutes. Now all I had to do was wait for Greg to come back inside, and I'll be the man of the house again. Old, obese, and wrinkly with hair in weird places. Dodgy joints, and poor eyesight, stuck at home with nothing to do all day...</p><p>How was he doing anyway? I peeked outside the window, looking down on my wizened grandson. He was still smoking his cigar, now sat down as the high fences cast the back yard in dim shadow. But Greg wasn't just smoking, he was doing something peculiar. I watched as he massaged his chest, feeling his hairy pecs, almost transfixed. Then he would rub his stomach, run a hand through his beard, and even stroke the top of his bald head. If I didn't know any better, he seemed to be aroused by his body... </p><p>His hand drifted further down his belly, slipping down to his jeans. He unzipped the front, shoving his mitt into his underwear before slipping out his cock and balls. I gasped and turned away from the window, cheeks red. He wasn't doing what I thought he was doing... Was he? Quickly, my eyes darted from house to house. Our backyard was well secluded, but was it that secluded? I couldn't help but drift my focus back down to Greg, who was slowly rubbing his fist up and down his cock, coaxing it into an erection as he first stroked his beard with his free hand, then slipped down to his chest, teasing his nipples. I was transfixed by his apparent lack of embarrassment as his strokes grew heavier, and quicker. Then in a sudden moment, he groaned aloud and shuddered as he spread his seed across the lawn. He slowed down, resting after such an excursion, before taking the stub of his cigar from his lips, and crushing it into the patio floor. I ducked back down, hoping he didn't catch me staring.</p><p>It was a lot to process. I have a lot of teen hormones running through me, and even I haven't done anything so brash as that this week. But it made a lot of those weird moments finally click into place. He was the one who researched the totems, insisted that we swap, then kept putting off the inevitable swap back. He was playing up his grumpiness, despite those tiny moments where he appeared happy, even thrilled at being a man. Because it was an act. He never wanted to swap back. But why? Before I could question things further, the doorbell rang.</p><p>I answered the door to my daughter Mabel, a strained smile on my face. "Mom!" I cried, getting a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach at the word. "I didn't think you'd be back so soon!"</p><p>"Well, I managed to slip away a little earlier than planned. Where's your grandpa?"</p><p>"Outside." I nodded my head to the back of the house, making sure I stayed ahead of her. Who knew what Greg was doing now. To be safe, I shouted down the hallway, "Hey gramps, mom's here!" <br /></p><p>With the early arrival of Mabel, we had lost the opportune moment to swap back. And yet, as I guided my daugher through to the dining room, I noticed that those two totems were still tucked up high on the shelf I couldn't reach. It only further proved my hunch, that Greg hadn't even considered setting up the ritual. Speak of the Devil, he came into the room, now wearing a thin sweatshirt, and looking a little sheepish as he spotted the two of us. </p><p>"Hey Mabel," he grumbled in his gravelly voice. "I wasn't expecting you so soon, I would have prepared some coffee for you."</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE4tQzhZ8jHpOjW8WouH_bxtVe5OUh6fdzktKwruHu1k3m8MeW6EyHk4POIU1ZA_1KumY31EpDU6f9c32KQ7SO8uQus2fz43GpMddGE3EApuK3OFXaR6QTU3s1ecJHzjWND1BHYS4_1pGIyeIwe7FmEY5OmxkyEEMbvjf6oZSV4K0qebuk_q9AeMGW2w/s1600/EZ1ww4lWAAAxmiQ.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE4tQzhZ8jHpOjW8WouH_bxtVe5OUh6fdzktKwruHu1k3m8MeW6EyHk4POIU1ZA_1KumY31EpDU6f9c32KQ7SO8uQus2fz43GpMddGE3EApuK3OFXaR6QTU3s1ecJHzjWND1BHYS4_1pGIyeIwe7FmEY5OmxkyEEMbvjf6oZSV4K0qebuk_q9AeMGW2w/w360-h640/EZ1ww4lWAAAxmiQ.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>"Oh, don't worry about that, dad. Traffic's a bitch, so the sooner we leave, the better." Mabel turned to me and asked, "So, have you had a good time with grandpa?"</p><p>I looked over to Greg, and he had the most guilty look on his face. I only smiled and said, "I've had a great time. We learned a lot about each other."</p><p>"We sure did," he replied a little nervously.</p><p>"I can't wait to do it all again sometime!" I added, before opening my arms for a hug. <br /></p><p>He looked shocked, but stepped forward, and embraced me. I heard him whisper in my ear, "What's your angle? What about the totems?"</p><p>"Don't worry about it," I whispered back. As we unlocked from each other, I gave him a wink, and added, "I'll just go get my stuff, and we can head home."</p><p>As I ran up the stairs, I heard Greg suddenly call out, "Hang on, let me help you."</p><p>"He's a strong boy, dad. He can get it himself."</p><p>"No, I insist!" </p><p>I heard him clambor up the stairs behind me, and we entered the bedroom together.</p><p>"I'm sorry I left things too late, but what's with the change of heart?" He asked as the door closed. "You've spent all week pestering me about the totems and now it's all fine?" <br /></p><p>"Well, after thinking it over, I came to a realisation. You're not ready to swap back, and I don't want to force you into it."</p><p>He scratched at the back of his neck, and grumbled. "I mean, I guess I could be Grandpa for a little longer, if that's what you really want..."</p><p>"Greg..." <br /></p><p>"Okay, you got me," he sighed as he sat back on the bed. "I like being old. It's weird saying it out loud, but I do! I could do without the dodgy back, but I like my beard, I like my tattoos, I like smoking my pipe, and having hair on my chest and not on my head. But I didn't mean to, at first. I thought I'd be pleased to give it all up. But as the week progressed, I just kinda settled into it? Everyone has high expectations for me at school, mom's always pushing me to be the best, and it can be overwhelming. But then I swapped with you, I became a retired man who doesn't have to do shit for anyone, and has the time to finally relax... It's just nice..." He sighed, and rolled away from me. "I'm sorry, that must be weird to hear."<br /></p><p>"No, I get it." I sat down on the bed next to him, and stroked his head, the way I did to soothe him. He used to have a full head of hair back then, but it still sufficed. "After being you for a week, I understand the pressure you're under. Except, I see it as something to strive for. I could never achieve what you already have, so to have the chance, even for a week? It's like a dream come true. And obviously, I enjoy being young, and scrappy again! But I shouldn't be, this is your time I'm taking. So just know, whenever you're ready to swap back, I'll be there."<br /></p><p>He smiled, and pulled me into a big hug before we went back downstairs to say our final goodbyes. And as I walked out of my front door, suitcase in hand, I could see that mischievous little glimmer of Greg's younger self as he waved us goodbye. He no longer had to put on an act, he could be happy as the old man he had become. Maybe in a few months time, I'll get the call saying he wants to swap back. But I would be just as unsurprised if those little totems suddenly go missing the next time we see each other. <br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-76420699746204141882023-08-31T15:59:00.001-07:002023-08-31T16:17:01.453-07:00No Refunds<p>It was an unusually quiet day in the store. So quiet, I actually had time to finish the crossword in the newspaper without a single disturbance. I suppose money is tight nowadays. But even the reliable window shoppers hadn't turned up. I was considering closing up early when the bell above the door tinkled. Finally, a customer.</p><p>"Hey! I've got a bone to pick with you!"</p><p>I frowned. A <i>customer</i>. There goes my quiet afternoon... I turned around to see a stout man with a round, bearded face striding towards me with a sour expression. "Ah, Mr. Grant," I chimed pleasantly. "How lovely it is to see you again." The man paused mid-stride, clearly surprised that I remembered him. But it's my job to remember every single person that enters through those doors, regardless of current appearances. It still gave me a smug feeling every time, however. I asked him, "What appears to be the problem."</p><p>Grant snapped out of his stupor, and grunted. "Isn't it obvious? Look at me!" He waved his hands up and down his bulky body.</p><p>"Yes, you're a man now, just like you wanted." Grant was a young lad the previous day, just on the cusp of pubescence. Like many of the youths who enter the shop, he was desperate for a means to grow up, to become an adult. And like many of them, I had exactly the means to do so. In Grant's case, I had a box of aging cream I was just about to throw away before he turned up. I thought it was luck, although it appears things have turned sour... I switched tactics, and said with a sly wink, "And might I add, you've grown into quite the handsome gentleman."</p><p>"Shut up!" He growled, slamming a carrier bag down onto the counter with a sharp thud. So much for sweet talk. "I'm not handsome, I'm old! This isn't what I
wanted at all! I want a refund."<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>That aging cream? Yeah, it was expired... But still usable! So I gave Grant the whole box for a hefty discount. I
didn't expect him to use it all, of course. But I hoped he'd
have been so enamored by the experience that he would then distribute
the rest of them to his peers. Fat load of good that was...</p><p>I pursed my lips, and inhaled sharply. "Ah, I'm sorry, but I can't in good conscious offer a refund on expired goods. Maybe you could share them with your friends, I'm sure they'd love the chance to be grown-ups too."</p><p>"I'm not letting my friends see me like this! Even if they wanted to grow up, they'd take one look at me and laugh!" </p><p>"Now now, don't be so down on yourself. I wasn't lying when I said you were handsome." He raised an eyebrow at me. "Maybe it wasn't exactly the result that you wanted, but maybe if you gave it a bit more time..."</p>"Stop that!" He yelled, slamming a fist into the counter. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. This is all your fault! You said that the cream would make me grow into a hunky, muscular man. But look at this!" He pulled up his shirt to reveal his decidedly unmuscular torso blanketed with thick hairs. "That stupid cream made me so old, it gave me a gut and moobs, and all this gross hair. I wanted big, smooth muscles, like Thor!"<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGFqKcQJuKnBSyxWgBtqZIBYZFkd4MIhvAJV3RMwYxFNATYOKdOx0KFJgePd6Q824Rp1ziaprukG7utGNyKZK67FKWWTHBOp7FZ1P8j1Duy9MNaz7922D7VdUuyOK0lO4QekzS487wyWTsBZl_3krDaAiiBI5wpKNFUn0O6CJAekEr8N7uo6POOn9OfQ/s1280/tumblr_ow8lzjF21P1usbzmyo1_1280.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1040" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGFqKcQJuKnBSyxWgBtqZIBYZFkd4MIhvAJV3RMwYxFNATYOKdOx0KFJgePd6Q824Rp1ziaprukG7utGNyKZK67FKWWTHBOp7FZ1P8j1Duy9MNaz7922D7VdUuyOK0lO4QekzS487wyWTsBZl_3krDaAiiBI5wpKNFUn0O6CJAekEr8N7uo6POOn9OfQ/w520-h640/tumblr_ow8lzjF21P1usbzmyo1_1280.jpg" width="520" /></a></div><p></p><p></p>"Now, now. I merely said you could grow up to be a hunk. It was never a definite." I reached over to give his bloated belly a stroke, as if I was a doctor examining a patient. Grant flinched at my touch, but didn't bat my hand away. While jiggling his bloated, furry stomach, I explained, "Everyone grows up differently, and you're certainly no exception. There could be any range of reasons to explain your bearish body, from an unhealthy lifestyle to simple genetics. Besides, I prefer a man with some meat on him. The definition of a hunk is subjective." I gave him a wink, which must have been the last straw.<p>"You wanted this to happen to me, didn't you?" Grant snapped as he pushed me away. Oops, busted... So the creams were from my own special collection made to enhance the more bearish qualities in a man. Can you blame me? But I kept my expression blank as he huffed and yanked his shirt back down, shimmying it a few times to get it over his larger stomach. "You don't even seem surprised that I'm some middle-aged loser. I'm older than my both my parents, I'm fatter than my dad, his clothes barely fit me. I'm even losing my hair! I didn't want to grow up this much!" He crossed his arms tight, resting atop the curve of his belly, and hiccoughed, trying his best not to burst into tears.<br /></p><p>I sighed. Watching a big lug like him acting like a stroppy child was such a mood killer... I patted him on the shoulder sympathetically, and said, "Okay. Walk me through what happened when you used the cream."</p><p>"I waited until this morning, when I would be home alone, before I opened one of the tubs. The cream itself smelled weird, kinda like my grandma's house. Then I wiped off the bit stuck to the lid, and rubbed it into my face. I waited a few minutes, but nothing happened. I remembered you said it was expiring, and I thought that maybe it wasn't as powerful as it would usually be. Which is why you gave me so many tubs, in case I used up the first one, and it only made me, like, five years older."</p><p>"Oh, honey, no," I said with a shake of my head. "Aging cream gets more potent as it's left to ferment. It's best to use it sparingly in small doses, so you don't go overboard. I told you this as I was bagging it up for you."</p><p>"You definitely did not! Otherwise I would have been more careful!" Grant snapped back. "And because that first test did nothing to me, and since those tubs are so tiny, I figured I may as well use the whole lot. It was too much to put on my face, so I took off my shirt and rubbed it all over, almost like I was putting on sun cream. I rubbed it into my chest and shoulders, my arms and stomach, until it was all gone. And this time, I felt it working."</p><p>"I see where this is going..." <br /></p><p>"I grew, like, two feet taller in seconds, and I fell to the floor after tripping over my big feet, which ballooned out just as quick. When I looked down at myself, I could see my pants were being torn apart, my manhood now swollen to appropriately manly proportions, and surrounded by a bush of hair. Even more hairs were popping up all over my bare body. Once I managed to get to my feet, I rushed into the bathroom so I could look in the mirror, and I was dumbfounded to see that I was already an adult. I had hair on my chest, and thick stubble on my face. My jaw was squarer, and I could see my Adam's apple in my throat. But as I scratched at my stubbly neck, I could see more hairs sprouting on my shoulders, and when I spotted the first gray hair on my chin, I knew I was already far older than I wanted to be. I didn't know what to do, it wasn't like I could wipe the cream off! So I jumped into the shower, and covered myself in soap in the hopes I could wash any leftover cream off before it was too late."</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5Zp_Wlmvfhl7Z_0st7DlTFGeMlecRUnhQgThjkOgadjvCwwXjeA93NexAmrAEbx92yLNUxUGL0QEgaZkbd6vdyd1zuZPZYiM2ShJ7FUMkzv3l5cg1tpnKBx0r3JRbeoPJZgUi8Z_v3yRWscHh2bRLIDWoYvqhGmzEYC2suhXEIGXNBNDGd-zCFNjjcEC/s1080/Untitled.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="922" data-original-width="1080" height="546" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5Zp_Wlmvfhl7Z_0st7DlTFGeMlecRUnhQgThjkOgadjvCwwXjeA93NexAmrAEbx92yLNUxUGL0QEgaZkbd6vdyd1zuZPZYiM2ShJ7FUMkzv3l5cg1tpnKBx0r3JRbeoPJZgUi8Z_v3yRWscHh2bRLIDWoYvqhGmzEYC2suhXEIGXNBNDGd-zCFNjjcEC/w640-h546/Untitled.png" width="640" /></a></div> "Yeah, that wouldn't help," I chimed in. "It's a fast absorbing formula. The second it's spread onto your skin, it's sinks in and does its magic, all without leaving a greasy residue!"<p></p><p>"No kidding," he grumbled through clenched teeth. "That would explain why no matter how hard I scrubbed, I wouldn't stop growing. I could feel myself getting older with every passing minute, as small aches, and pains made themselves more known. Even more hairs were sprouting across my body while the hair on my head was falling out, and my little stomach kept getting bigger, and bigger with every breath I took, my chest growing softer and meatier until it rested atop my belly. Eventually, the feeling subsided, and I stopped trying to scrub off the cream. My skin was red raw by this point. I stayed in the shower for a little while after that."<br /></p><p>"Exploring your new body, right?" I nudged him with a wink. "Making use of that new appropriately manly appendage of yours?"</p><p>"It was more an existential episode of grief and horror as the full realisation of what I'd done gripped me, but <i>sure</i>. I just <i>had</i> to jack off in the moment, <i>thrilled</i> by my sudden masculinity." I could practically swim in the sarcasm that oozed from him. "You know, I can't even see my dick without looking over my belly, right? No, I had to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror once I left the now cold shower to actually see it once again, buried underneath the mountain of fat that is my middle aged body. Hairy, flabby, balding, stupid, ugly-"</p><p>"Hey now!" I gave Grant a slap on the cheek, softened by his dense beard. "Don't beat yourself up about this. You're a perfectly handsome looking man. There are a lot of guys out there who would kill to look as manly as you."</p><p>"Yeah, well maybe you should've given this cream to them then, huh." He straightened up, giving me a sharp glare. "I only wanted to look like I was in college, but instead I'm a washed up guy on the verge of a midlife crisis. And since it's your fault for deceiving me, I think you should fix it. My mom was already worried about how rough I sounded on the phone when she checked in on me. If she finds out that I'm an adult, that I'm older than her..."<br /></p><p>"What did you think would happen if things went the way you wanted?" I asked. "Would your mom be happier knowing you weren't a forty-something bear but merely a college-aged lad?" Grant squirmed, he clearly hadn't thought about it. I chuckled sharply. "Never mind, magic like this has a way of fixing whatever problems that may arise itself. I wouldn't be surprised if you were already your mom's older brother, with a one-bedroom apartment downtown, a stable office job, maybe a partner if you're lucky."<br /></p><p>With that, Grant reached into his pockets in a frenzy, and gulped as he pulled out a a hefty chain of keys, along with a battered wallet. He muttered under his breath as he opened it up, only to yelp suddenly. "This has gone too far!" He growled, shoving his driver's license in my face. It looked like it had recently been renewed, with the same bushy, ginger beard, and a similarly receded hairline. He buried his face in his hands, and moaned "I don't want to be this guy! Isn't there anything else you can do!?"<br /></p><p>"Well, there's always something else I could do."</p><p>"Really? You can make me young again?" He perked up at the thought.<br /></p><p>"You're not listening, I said I could do something. But I don't want to. I prefer you like this, and I'm sure if you gave it a chance, you would grow to like it too. But there is something else..." Before he could object, I grabbed Grant by his shirt, and pulled him in close and locked lips. He resisted at first, but quickly fell into the kiss. When we broke, he was in a stupor, completely hypnotized. I shook my head, and sighed. "This always happens. They just don't appreciate being a man the way they should..."</p><p>I circled around him, then reached up to his head, and rubbed my fingers deep into his thinning scalp. A few hairs broke free, and drifted lazily to the floor. I leaned in close, and whispered in his ear. "You're going to stop being so negative about your change. You love the man that you are now. In fact, you want to spread the love, and give the other creams to your friends so they can experience the thrills of being a middle aged bear as well." I give him a small kiss on his bald spot, then spun him around and gave him another smooch on the lips.</p><p>Grant broke free of his stupor, and shook his head clear. "Woah," he mumbled under his breath, rubbing his beard as if for the first time. <br /></p><p>"So, you feel any better?"</p><p>"Yeah... Yeah! I feel amazing! I don't know what's in that kiss of yours, but I feel a whole new man!" He patted his stomach with a hefty laugh that bounced around the room.<br /></p><p>"Wonderful!" I picked up the bag he left on the counter, and shoved it into his grasp. "So you'll find a way to get rid of these for me?"<br /></p><p>"These?" Grant peeked inside the bag, and nodded. "Sure, I can pass them out. I know a few kids 'round the neighborhood. It shouldn't be difficult convincing them, not when I look as manly as this!" He smiled wide, and gave me another kiss on the cheek. "I can't wait to just share the love, you know? Everyone should get to know what it's like to be beautiful bears like us, right babe?"</p><p>"Right!" I said with a mischevious grin. I can't say when I suggested he may have a partner, that it would be me. But I can roll with it! He is a handsome devil, after all. I blew him a kiss, and waved my hand as he stepped out of the shop with a new spring in his step. It always feels good to help someone reach their full potential!<br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-70342147398147039642023-07-20T18:11:00.002-07:002023-07-20T18:11:53.707-07:00The Beach Is Magic<p>The secluded cove of Tānetanga Beach was looking a bit more lively nowadays. The once under-the-radar spot had gained a new wave of admirers recently, thanks to the wonders of social media. Its unspoiled sands, and mysterious workings were drawing in people from all over, and singing its praises. Which is why Jordan just had to drag his best bud Lamar away from their tour group while they were in the area. <br /></p><p>"Even if they notice we're missing, they're not going to wait for us, you know," Lamar moaned as they pushed through the overgrown foliage that lined the wanderer's path to the cove. "They're gonna leave us stranded at this dumb beach with no way back to the hotel. My mom's gonna kill me if we're not on that bus..."</p><p>"We have a whole hour before we have to worry about that, "Jordan reasoned, trying to sound reassuring. "Trust me, It's going to be worth the detour."<br /></p><p>"Right, because TikTok says the beach is magic," Lamar grumbled. "How do you know they're not fakes? Do you ever see anyone changing?"</p><p>"Well, no... But why would they make it up? And practically every single account that talks about it gets deleted! You should really check out r/Tānetanga, you'll-"</p><p>"Nuh-uh! I ain't checking out no Reddit about some conspiracy theory!" Lamar complained, trying to stand his ground, but Jordan didn't wait. With a roll of his eyes, he bounded after his friend as the beach came into full view. There are several men spread out around the cove, taking in the sun, wading in the waves. "Woah, those guys are naked," Lamar noticed, turning to avert his eyes from the sight. "This is some nudie beach! No wonder those TikToks are being deleted. We should definitely not be here..."<br /></p><p>"Relax, it's all part of the magic! You'll see." Jordan dumped his bag on the sand, and stripped down to a pair of speedos that could have been mistaken for tighty whities. "You said you wanted adventure. It's better than some stuffy architecture tour, right?"</p><p>Lamar stared dumbfounded at his friend, not even dignifying that with a response. Jordan merely shrugged and bounded towards the ocean, leaving him alone. He looked around, noticing a few men looking in his direction, expectantly. He felt a shiver up his spine. Realising how much he didn't want to be left alone, he threw his shirt aside and begrudgingly followed his friend up to the ocean. His feet tingled underneath the warm sand in a not entirely pleasant way. That tingling only increased as they waded into the ice-cold, blue waters. He gave Jordan a pat on the shoulder, then asked, "Okay. So what happens now?"<span></span></p><a name='more'></a>"We wait!" he declared loudly, his voice deeper than usual. "Can't you feel it already? That surge of raw power sinking into your skin? Filling you up with unbridled testosterone?<br /><p></p><p>"The only thing I feel is stupid," Lamar grumbled under his breath. He turned back to shore, looking out to the several dozen men who dotted the secluded beach. It felt like they were all staring at them. That same shiver ran up his spine at the thought. It was clear to him that they were unwelcome on the beach. He turned back to Jordan, and shook his head. "I can't do this, I have to-"</p><p>Before he could finish, Lamar felt something heavy hit the back of him, sending him tumbling into the water. Another large wave swept over his head, engulfing him in a torrential whirlpool. He swam this way and that until he managed to break free of the waves with a desperate gasp of air. He scrambled back to his feet, and rubbed the water from his eyes. The first thing Lamar noticed was the black mass that hung down into his vision, smeared across his forehead. He yelped, and reached up to swat away whatever seaweed he'd gotten draped in, only to freeze. It was attached to him, but it couldn't be. He ran his hands over the top of his head, his heart beating fast as he felt long, kinky curls thread between his open palms. It wasn't seaweed, it was hair. So much hair, more than he'd ever known in his life. "What the fuck..." he uttered under his breath, half with dread, half excited. This had to be a trick, there was no way Jordan was right about this beach. There was no way he had become a man.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCw3-Ytr3JUun90kj_OhSLp9MJ6iXwN9VDGl5xAVGMfINK-_idiVRpRrU3hePXofvVH5tCQqmmBwCuwgA8JaPltTdr4zn4b9DyjTlf2ZoXjZgveR7WexBz1rOVnZ8mH0_B7JtX4lqAvgYRZwBylWi7O8GYC3nrhFwezpG2yA33F_MirENwybSXzSKI_hv/s1484/tumblr_37b824bd6257a3fc905e147db65e4714_0697c759_1280.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCw3-Ytr3JUun90kj_OhSLp9MJ6iXwN9VDGl5xAVGMfINK-_idiVRpRrU3hePXofvVH5tCQqmmBwCuwgA8JaPltTdr4zn4b9DyjTlf2ZoXjZgveR7WexBz1rOVnZ8mH0_B7JtX4lqAvgYRZwBylWi7O8GYC3nrhFwezpG2yA33F_MirENwybSXzSKI_hv/w466-h640/tumblr_37b824bd6257a3fc905e147db65e4714_0697c759_1280.jpg" width="466" /></a></div> <p></p><p> "This isn't happening," he muttered aloud, his silky, baritone voice resonating through his chest, and only further freaking him out. That wasn't a pimply teen in the midst of puberty, it was the voice of a grown-ass man. "Mmmm... It's happening..." He dropped his hands to his face, his fingers quivering as he felt the short beard that covered his cheeks, and hid his squared jaw from view. "Jordan's not gonna shut up about this..." Finally, he allowed himself to look down to his body. His eyes widened. He had muscle upon muscle, bulging biceps, rounded pecs and a pair of sculpted abs. He had chest hair that served to better accentuate the shape of his chest. Even his brown skin was more stunning than when he was a teen, with a noticeably healthy glow. But most importantly, he had lost his trunks in that powerful wave that had knocked him underwater! He instinctively reached down to protect his shame from prying eyes, only to yelp in surprise. He couldn't help but notice his dick had gotten bigger. Far bigger. Almost embarrassingly so. It bobbed about under the water, like a snake slithering through grass. He crouched further under the waves.<br /></p><p></p><p></p><p>"This is too much..." Lamar groaned. He shook his head clear, his natural Afro hair bouncing against his cheeks and brushing his shoulders. He'd always wanted to grow it out, but his school had strict guidelines regarding hairstyles that prevented him from growing it out more than a few inches. He grinned as he bounced his hands through his hair. Ms. Turnpike would hate it, that was for sure! And, of course, Jordan was going to be so jealous. Speaking of whom...Amongst all the excitement, he'd almost forgotten the boy who'd dragged him to the beach in the first place. Carefully, Lamar waded out of the ocean and back towards dry land. He cupped his dick as best as he could, needing both hands to properly shield the girthy beast. He tried to think unsexy thoughts, doing his best not to get an erection. He'd had enough attention drawn his way already without putting a proper weapon in hand, after all. <br /></p><p>Lamar looked around, trying to spot Jordan. It would have been easy if he were still a teenager, but if he had also grown into a man, then any of the beach inhabitants could have been him. There had to be a way to spot him. Something distinctive. Lamar heard someone call his name. There, someone waving in his direction. The guy was wearing those ridiculous white speedos that Jordan had insisted on wearing. Even from this distance, Lamar could see the pink bulge of his genitals pressed against the tight, translucent fabric. But as he closed the distance, he began to have second thoughts. Surely this couldn't be Jordan. The man looked... Well, different to him, to say the least.<br /></p><p>As Lamar stumbled up to the man, a head taller than himself even with the hair, he grinned and threw his arms wide. "Mar! It took you long enough." Jordan joked. "You're not exactly difficult to spot in this crowd of white men."<br /></p><p>"Is that really you? Shit, you're so... Grown up... You look like someone's dad."</p><p>Jordan chuckled heartily. "I guess that's one way of putting it," he said with a scratch of his stubbly chin. There was a stark contrast between the two men. While Lamar was a young buck in his twenties, Jordan had to be well into his forties at this point, with a lean build, and a dusting of dark hair that clung to his damp body. His heavy salt and pepper stubble was joined by an impressively thick mustache that hung over his upper lip. If he were twenty years younger, his beardstache would have been the height of fashion. But paired with his expansive forehead and rugged skin, it only made him look more old fashioned. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSBuwNVxLvONqL2Qg8bxJcjEPOxFK0_dBAaS8_HX6U5WZk2aHlX77eOAu1tPVjsl7GnIlxafx7EE-b7YvBOMUXQTYRlCbn7PtH0FyzFZ37WVF9zRgbdJkeLug5uzNj22n1d6dUoRJ4OTz9rQ4h5DRBDYNE5o_uPljIVQYV79_loTlj4ww_NVc9QXKknab/s1350/39803a2a9e96c9860c7a957f7d08e170.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSBuwNVxLvONqL2Qg8bxJcjEPOxFK0_dBAaS8_HX6U5WZk2aHlX77eOAu1tPVjsl7GnIlxafx7EE-b7YvBOMUXQTYRlCbn7PtH0FyzFZ37WVF9zRgbdJkeLug5uzNj22n1d6dUoRJ4OTz9rQ4h5DRBDYNE5o_uPljIVQYV79_loTlj4ww_NVc9QXKknab/w426-h640/39803a2a9e96c9860c7a957f7d08e170.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>But Lamar still couldn't wrap his head around the age discrepancy. He scratched at his own beard, saying "What happened? You're so old now, and I'm so much younger than you! It doesn't make sense."<br /></p><p>"I'm not that old. I don't think I am, anyway..." Jordan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "The beach has the power to make anyone into a man. Old, young, in-between. There's no rhyme or reason to it. I knew there was always a possibility, but I had to take the risk." He stopped, noticing Lamar's reaction. A subtle look of pity. So he added, "But I'm okay with it! I'm happy, even. Because we're both men now. And I was right about everything!"<br /></p><p> "Okay, I get it. I should've had some more belief..."<br /></p><p>"Although I have to say, I'm a little jealous of the 'fro. Especially when I have this predicament." Jordan tilted his head forward, and rubbed a hand over his receded hairline, where a slim band of severely thinning hair was all that stubbornly remained atop, a large bald spot resting at the very back of his scalp.<br /></p><p>Lamar suppressed a laugh, instead giving his friend a friendly slap on the shoulder. "I didn't want to say nothing, but I knew it. It's bad enough being old, but losing your hair too? That won't be me!"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. I'm practically bald now. But on the plus side, at least I'm not fat. I may not be Mr. Muscle like you, but I'm in decent shape! I also pack a decent package, though, again, it's nothing compared to yours." Lamar blushed, forgetting that he was baring it all to the world. Jordan laughed at his reaction, and nodded towards where they left their bags. "Don't worry," he chimed. "I brought some stuff with us, because I knew we'd need it. Because this was a magic beach, and we've magically become men!"<br /></p><p>"Yeah yeah, no need to brag about it, old man."</p><p>"I told you, I'm not that old!" Jordan yelled, chasing after Lamar as they bounded back to their belongings.<br /></p><p>While Jordan dug through his bag for their spare change of clothes, Lamar dug through his own bag until he found his phone. He switched the camera on, and held it in front of him, cooing at his appearance. "Damn!" He growled at his reflection. "I look fine as fuck!"</p><p>Meanwhile, Jordan peeked over his friend's shoulder with curiosity. He rubbed his dense stubble with an impressed smile. "Hmm, I look pretty good for my age. I think it suits me. Makes me look mature. Distinguished, even."</p><p>"Don't beat around the bush. You look old."</p><p>"That too," Jordan added with a chuckle. "I'm a little past my prime, but as I keep telling you, I'm not unhappy." He puffed his chest out a little with pride. He wanted to be a man, and he was definitely a man, bald spot and all.<br /></p><p>"Whatever you say, daddio," Lamar joked as he finally got dressed. Yet even now, his shorts moulded around his monster of a cock. He sighed, there was going to be no hiding that. But why would he want to deprive the world of his beautiful body? With that in mind, he tied his shirt around his waist. Now that he had the physique of a warrior, he was going to flaunt it for all it was worth. Jordan, meanwhile, dressed a little more conservatively befitting a man of his age. He left the top buttons of his shirt open, allow a tuft of chest hair to peek through. Lamar looked back to his phone, and said, "Well, we have another 20 minutes until the bus leaves. If they even let us on, that is."</p><p>"As long as we have our tickets, I doubt they'd even notice. Besides, that coach was full of folks my age. What's another balding, middle-aged man to them? You though? They might be suspicious of a male model trying to board their rickety coach."</p><p>"Well they'll be so blinded by my perfect looks, and my rock-hard abs, that they'll practically beg me to jump on board!"</p><p>The two men laughed together, gathering up their belongings and walking back towards the forest that separated the cove from the main beach. But not before another two young lads crossed the threshold, bickering to each other about conspiracies and magic. Lamar shook his head with a chuckle. It seemed like there would always be visitors to Tānetanga Beach, believers and skeptics alike.<br /></p><p><br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-46198337738939538132023-06-30T17:11:00.004-07:002023-06-30T17:19:29.748-07:00Affirmation<p>Loud pop music pumped through the packed streets of Roselake, doing its best to be heard over the crowds of people decked out in their loudest outfits. Pride was in full swing, gripping the usually laid-back town in its glittery grip for its annual weekend festival. Everywhere you looked was glamor, and color. Which made it easy to miss the short man wearing a bulky, black hoodie in the middle of summer. Not that Logan wanted to draw any kind of attention to himself. He kept his head down, sticking to the backstreets, and weaving through the throngs of people cheering on the drag act up on stage. Finally, he ducked around a corner towards the shopping plaza. About a dozen stalls were set up selling handcrafted merch, and providing help and advice for anyone interested. Still, he stuck to the covers until he finally stepped into the air-conditioned paradise that was his destination; Costume Plaza.<br /></p><p>Almost immediately, Logan was caught off-guard by how quiet it was. Especially compared to the noise outside. He was expecting dozens of people looking for something to wear. In fact, he didn't see another customer at all. The only other person inside was a bored employee with his feet propped up on the counter, head in a book. <br /></p><p>Logan gulped, thinking of leaving entirely. But he had to hold his ground. This was his only opportunity, all he had to do was ask... He shuffled up to the counter, and waited for the guy to notice him. He was a homely lad, with longish hair and a patchy beard. He had no name tag, but there was an ace flag sticker stuck to his shirt pocket. Logan found himself unconsciously scratching his own, beardless cheeks. He sighed, and finally gathered his courage. "Excuse me," he blurted, his voice catching in his throat at the last minute. He really hated being the center of attention, especially in current times. The quicker he could get through this interaction, the better. "Are you still open?"</p><p>"Mhm?" The guy looked up from his book, disgruntled by the interruption. "Of course we are."</p><p>"Uhm, sorry..." Logan gulped, embarrassed by the minor issue. "It's just so quiet. I thought you'd be jam-packed today, what with Pride and all."</p><p>"Anyone who needed a costume for Pride bought theirs in advance."</p><p>"Oh, right. Of course. Silly me..." Logan chuckled nervously. The man cocked an eyebrow, questioning whether he should get back to his book, until Logan dug his phone out from his pocket. He scrambled with his apps, saying aloud, "uh, I received this weird email the other day, and, you know, wanted to know more details...? Aha!" He found the email in his saved folders, and flipped his phone round to the employee.<br /></p><p>The man took his phone, and mumble-read the contents to himself, before handing it back with a nod. "Right, the Pride Promo. I suppose they're targeting that stuff, huh. Feels like an invasion of privacy to me. But what do I know..."</p><p>"Cookies, and trackers, I guess... Heh..."<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span></span><br /><p></p><p>"Right. So I suppose you're here for the gender affirming promo?" He gave Logan a look up and down, a judgemental one-two that he always hated to encounter. He looked away, his cheeks burning red, until the employee merely gave him a short "Cool," before stepping out from behind the counter. He walked over to a sheltered section of the store, and rattled off the details. "So you can choose any costume you like from this part of the store. You then have to try on the costume before you leave, obviously, and I'll have some paperwork for you to sign. Legal mumbo jumbo so you don't sue us if things aren't to your liking. And finally, we'll waiver the permanence fee, free of charge."<br /></p><p>Logan nodded, trying to hold back his excitement. Costume Plaza had a reputation for charging exuberant fines for anyone trying to keep their costumes to themselves. Enchanted clothing wasn't cheap, apparently. So to basically remove that fine was a deal of a lifetime. This wasn't his first time using Costume Plaza. In fact, it was a
costume mix-up that gave Logan the epiphany that he may
actually be a man. In hindsight, there were other signs when he was growing up. His hatred of make-up and dolls, not wanting long hair, the desire to pee standing up.
His mom always called him a tomboy, and he clung to that title with pride. But the day he accidentally
ordered a male costume for a party, that sudden epiphany hit him
hard. Since then, he'd rented a costume semi-regularly. The cheapest
costume he could muster, just so he could exist as a man outside and in
for a day. He'd been old, young, short,
tall, smooth, hairy. Always masculine, always a man. Every single costume had felt
familiar, and like home. Then he would return to his old, feminine body,
and feel cold. It was never enough, and the dysphoria he felt when
returning to his normal self hit harder every time.</p><p>Eager to get it over and done with, Logan skimmed through the rack until he found a nice looking suit, and dug out the price tag. His stomach dropped. "How much!?" he cried upon seeing the four digit price tag. "There has to be a mistake! I can rent a suit like this from the online store for, like, twenty bucks!"<br /></p><p>The man merely shrugged. "This is the premium stuff. You can't expect the store to give this stuff away, we're not running a charity," he declared. "If it makes you feel better, it's like ten times cheaper than the permanence fee. And, if you think about it, far cheaper than surgery."</p><p>"That doesn't mean I can afford it, though..." Logan sighed. His dreams of finally having a body he was comfortable with were dashed as quickly as they'd appeared... A costume worth thousands would definitely put him deep into debt. Even with the money he'd saved up with his crappy coffee barista gig, it'd take him years to afford such a lofty goal. But he couldn't give up now, he was so close! He flipped through the rail of clothes, first checking the costumes that took his fancy, gulping at the steep price, and moving onto the next one. This quickly dove into checking every single male-presenting costume for the cheapest option he could muster.</p><p>When he was just about to give up, Logan's hand landed on an outlying price tag. It was more than half the price of everything else he'd seen. It still a little pricey. But it was 'flight to Europe' expensive instead of 'six months rent' expensive. He pulled it off the shelf, and almost immediately cringed. It was barely even a costume, more an amalgam of leather accessories. No wonder it was so cheap, there was almost nothing to it!</p><p>Logan held onto the hanger tight, rapidly firing through the racks to find something, anything, more appropriate. But alas, there wasn't a single costume that came close to being as cheap as the leather ensemble. It was his only option. But it still gave him pause. It was so...revealing... He'd be showing off so much skin. And given how he was wearing a hoodie & jeans in triple digit weather, that wasn't something he was comfortable with. Logan glanced around, embarrassed to even be holding something so outwardly kinky. He was still the only one in the store, but what if his friends were passing by and looked in the window? What if his boss happened to enter, and saw him clutching all that leather? He'd never live it down! No, he shook his head. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. Letting his anxiety get the better of him. Not when it was ruining his chance at happiness!<br /></p><p>Logan glanced towards the changing rooms, his head swimming as his legs guided him towards an open room. He was really doing it. He had to. He couldn't keep hiding away like this, he wanted to be free to be himself, to be happy with himself. He took a deep breath, turned his back away from the mirror, and began to strip down until most of his clothes were on the floor. He stared down at his diminuitive frame, his heart pounding. With shaky hands, he reached up and unstrapped the binder that had helped him all those months, letting it hit the ground with a light thud. Then he grabbed the leather off of its hanger. Arm bands. Wristbands. Hat. Those were the easy parts. He struggled with the odd jockstrap - chaps combo that clearly swamped him. The boots weren't any better. Finally, with tears in his eyes, he pulled the ill-fitting chest harness down over his breasts as best as he could. He suppressed a sob, he looked ridiculous. A puddle of leather on his unwelcome, feminine frame. But thankfully, it wouldn't stay that way for long.<br /></p><p>With every piece of the costume in place, Logan could finally feel the magic swimming through him, the familiar lapping up and down his body in warm waves. He shut his eyes, and winced in preparation for what was next. A sudden sense of vertigo overcame him, as his tiny body suddenly stretched up toward the ceiling. The leather chaps creaking slightly as they no longer scrunched up around his ankles. He wiggled his toes as his feet inched forward to fill his big boots. His whole body pumped and slightly ached as his slender form filled up with muscle. His torso widening, and losing its womanly curves. The arm bands getting tight against his emerging biceps. His harness slowly yet surely sliding into place as his breasts dimished in size, the fat dissolving away. A literal weight off his shoulders. Logan finally cracked a smile, and opened his eyes. His cumbersome breasts were a thing of the past, until his chest thrust out further once more, this time thickening up with tight muscle. He was already overcome by how masculine he looked, and he was still changing! </p><p>A familiar itch overtook him as thousands of hairs began to break out across his body, his arm hair thickening up, his new pecs getting a healthy dusting. A dense stubble scratched across his cheeks, growing denser around his chin and lips. And a small treasure trail slid down his belly button to his crotch. That trail appeared to ignite a new feeling within himself. He groaned slightly, his voice deepening with each utterance, as he felt his organs rearranging themselves. There was an almost overwhelming sense of arousal as his sexual organs pushed outwards, reforming into a pink-headed cock, and a scrotum brimming with two hefty balls, each continuing to grow and fill up his jockstrap with a sizable bulge. His round jawline broadened, and squared off into a solid, angular chin that finally signalled the end.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr9ZvyMaVAtbuq1MTS1prrlO16IKwm0ei4H4Z8wuaGtksXnMvYcEpuS5vfYGz7J6VgSEZJRPOFSkWLEao5DuJJ9Ns5sJvuzvuGCusmUimpK25Ksc5D5T5KhN7NcpE094SI_r_31hL1B_GtRJnYTsg7-SF7a09QKDgzGOjbVvkcsOdMObplC0DkCYBb1Bh3/s1137/12554_06.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1137" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr9ZvyMaVAtbuq1MTS1prrlO16IKwm0ei4H4Z8wuaGtksXnMvYcEpuS5vfYGz7J6VgSEZJRPOFSkWLEao5DuJJ9Ns5sJvuzvuGCusmUimpK25Ksc5D5T5KhN7NcpE094SI_r_31hL1B_GtRJnYTsg7-SF7a09QKDgzGOjbVvkcsOdMObplC0DkCYBb1Bh3/w450-h640/12554_06.jpg" width="450" /></a></div></div><p></p><p></p><p>Logan fell to the floor, panting. The transformation had taken a lot out of him. But what he got from it was nothing less than incredible. He gazed at the leather-bound man in the mirror before him, a little dissociated from his reflection. That was him. That handsome, hairy, stud was actually him! He rubbed a hand across his chest, feeling the hairs that sprouted across them. His chest was admittedly still large, yet it felt so different from his
heavy breasts. There was no softness to their size at all. A grab and
squeeze confirmed it was all muscle, tight and hard to the touch. Those wretched breasts were finally gone. He chuckled to himself, a rich baritone that made his heart leap with joy. No amount of vocal exercises would have gifted him such a hearty voice. He stood up to his full height with a grin. No level of surgery could ever make him this tall. </p><p>Speaking of which, Logan reached down to his crotch and rubbed his newly born genitals through the leather. His fingers fumbled with the jockstrap, finding a small opening that allowed him complete access. He growled in pleasure as his cock and balls spilled out. To think this was actually his. No more pussy. No more periods, he thought with resounding relief. He couldn't help but give it a good rub, his warm meat growing hard within his palm at the very sight of the man he had become. That short, petite, feminine body he was once cursed with was all but gone. In its place was a broad, strapping young man. Tears dripped down his cheeks again, but he wasn't upset. He was happy. All those years of hiding himself from others, from himself. But no more. He had a body to be proud of, because he was finally a man in both body and mind.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4kNwphvNVJz1sJo4ZUBMOJgtbrdzI1i3YIJTQXV-0roFYw8rZ1RqY7B7mLpu8HEMb3Jd4CpAzeiHsOPLoE0TBsy3fnQ_nBLoPMziUvYrU3a3JLawk_xavxchejZPCWK94z16s2gm9FQWIiRyAcD1s-DkQ6EluUI0Ohh-6YAAoI0Twgp_t1Q-2BWgtq_b/s1200/05.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4kNwphvNVJz1sJo4ZUBMOJgtbrdzI1i3YIJTQXV-0roFYw8rZ1RqY7B7mLpu8HEMb3Jd4CpAzeiHsOPLoE0TBsy3fnQ_nBLoPMziUvYrU3a3JLawk_xavxchejZPCWK94z16s2gm9FQWIiRyAcD1s-DkQ6EluUI0Ohh-6YAAoI0Twgp_t1Q-2BWgtq_b/w426-h640/05.jpg" width="426" /></a> </p><p>As he dwelled on his new position in life, Logan couldn't help but fondle with his penis some more, giving it a good stroke. He really shouldn't, he thought. But that was the old him, the cowardly him. He was a new man, with a new outlook on life. His grip on his cock tightened, his pace growing rapid until he grunted and howled. His knees buckled as he shot a thick, ropey load of cum directly into the mirror. He panted, and leaned against the wall with euphoria. His first ejaculation, but not his last. Because he was a man. There was a time he didn't know it, and a time where he didn't accept it. But that was all in the past, because here and now, he was a man. All of that cowardice, and timidness, and frailty had been thrown out the door. He was confident, brash, cocky, and ready to go out into the world to show it all off. He picked up his old clothes, using them to wipe the semen off of the mirror, before dumping them in a trash can on his way out of the changing rooms.<br /></p><p>As Logan saunted back to the main desk, the store employee almost sensed his masculine presence. He looked up from his book, and did a double take before whistling. "Damn!" He declared. "Talk about a glow-up!"<br /></p><p>"Damn right it is," Logan growled. "Look at me, so sexy that even the asexual's noticing."<br /></p><p>"Cool it meathead, I can be ace and still tell when someone is good-looking." The employee sighed. Logan knew he was insulting him, but he couldn't help but push his chest out in pride. He was a meathead! "Now the boring part," the guy continued, tapping the pile of paperwork next to him. </p><p>Within minutes, Logan stood at the store entrance once more, several hundred dollars lighter. He'd have to budget for the next year, maybe even get a second job. But it was worth every cent.To think he almost didn't go through with it because of his revealing costume. And now, he couldn't wait to reveal his masculine body to the world. Logan stepped out into the sun with a cocky grin. He looked around the plaza, and all eyes were on him and his leather. Just as they should be, he thought. He strode straight into the crowds with newfound confidence, eager to finally be the man he always knew he could be.<br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-56006913969287212592023-06-18T16:28:00.002-07:002023-06-18T16:28:23.423-07:00DILF Elixir<p>It was mid-morning, and Trent was still resting in bed. He had no work, no plans, no responsibilities, except for sleep. That is, until he was rudely awoken by the curtains in the room being thrown open, and his boisterous husband bouncing onto the bed beside him. "Get up, sleepyhead" Frank cooed with a sharp prod.</p><p>"Mmm, noooo," Trent mumbled. "Sleep..."</p><p>"Don't you know what day it is?"</p><p>"Sunday," he grumbled. "The day of rest... So let me rest!" He dug himself under the covers further.<br /></p><p>"It's not just any old Sunday. It's..."</p><p>"I'unno... S'not my birthday... Not yours..." Suddenly, he jolted upwards. "Fuck, it's not our anniversary, is it? It can't be..."</p><p>"No, of course not." Frank laughed. "Bit worrying you forgot we married in the winter... No, it's Father's Day!"</p><p>"Father's Day? You woke me up for that!? Our dads suck, you know that!"<br /></p><p>Trent chucked a pillow at Frank, who only laughed at his partner's tantrum. "Well, I suppose I should just get rid of this then," he said, dangling a small bottle just teasingly out of reach.<br /></p><p>Trent stared at the vial, a little confused, until his eyes widened in recognition of the shimmering blueish contents within. "Oh shit," he muttered. "Is that...? You didn't..."<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>"I did!" Frank announced proudly. "The one and only DILF elixir. I noticed it was on sale recently, and I thought we could have a little fun. I could only order one, though. So we'll have to decide who-"</p><p>"You drink it."</p><p>"You don't want to think about it?"</p><p>"Noooo, I want you to be my sexy daddy for the day." Trent pouted, and looked up at him with his big eyes that could make his husband fall for anything.<br /></p><p>There was no arguing with that. With one swift motion, Frank uncorked the round vial, and downed the contents in a single gulp. Then he stood back, and held his arms out, ready for the magic to happen.<br /></p><p>It came in waves, each impact adding more pounds onto him. His chest broadening with muscle and a good dosage of fat, his stomach even moreso as it pushed itself ever outwards. His thighs jiggled as they grew into thick hams, topped off by a rounded, hefty ass that squished up against his tightening underwear. His body hair was next to thicken up, sprouting across his chest and stomach in bountiful patterns. It rolled up his shoulders, and scattered across his back. His usually groomed stubble lengthened until a short, dense beard covered his rounder cheeks, and chin, his jawline having gotten lost in a layer of fat. His hair was next to go, patches of it thinning until a sizable bald patch spread across the back of his scalp, leaving his hairline relatively intact, if an inch higher. The dark color drained from his newly formed beard, turning it a steel gray that also leapt to his temples and to the center of his chest hair. With a final wave, multiple lines criss-crossed his face, leaving him scarred by the talons of maturity. With a loud growl, Frank reached down and tore his underwear off of his flabby body, his stubby, hard dick bouncing as it was freed from captivity, cheered on by Trent who had watched the entire spectacle with a massive grin, eager to get his hands on the newly minted daddy.</p><p>Frank spun around to a mirror, recoiling on reflex at the stranger who was reflected back. Not a stranger, he thought with slight despair. He actually bore an uncanny resemblance to his own father. A man he didn't exactly have a great relationship with. Although there were differences between the two men, his short, gray beard for one. His thinning hair was darker, if more sparse. He was also a smidgen taller, and much slimmer, even with the hefty belly he now possessed. In fact, the more he focused on the differences, the less he saw his father in his appearance. He could see himself. A good thirty years or so older, but still himself. Frank cracked a smile, adding deeper lines to his already craggy face, then turned back to his husband, who had crawled out from the covers, ready for some lovemaking. He strode towards the bed, and laid next to him, posing seductively. "So how do I look?" He purred in a rumbling bass that made both their hearts leap.</p><p>Trent reached over, and stroked his partner's salt and pepper chest hair, then reached up and tilted Frank's gray-stained chin upwards with a smile. "You look over the hill," he cooed with a grin. "Well past your prime."</p><p>Frank's smile deflated. "Hey," He snapped in faux outrage. "C'mere, you lil' whippersnapper, I'll teach you not to be rude to your elders!" With surprising dexterity, he swooped Trent up, and dragged him into a tight embrace.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnSEZrEQNGjca4RcH5pFavvLK7UpgV73EV0N2lk-HjxVerVry_TMkvuypRLzkUABAH9jYJ5wcg1PglJrqzTSYhwVDas2ITLVzTxGQmv30LoLwxu5g9D2xLUihdi-BfhO4io-Y93XnejNTpj20wRi_gQiNW0wHKQF0f4oHZg6mckySRy6RpHkDf9nk65A/s1200/1446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnSEZrEQNGjca4RcH5pFavvLK7UpgV73EV0N2lk-HjxVerVry_TMkvuypRLzkUABAH9jYJ5wcg1PglJrqzTSYhwVDas2ITLVzTxGQmv30LoLwxu5g9D2xLUihdi-BfhO4io-Y93XnejNTpj20wRi_gQiNW0wHKQF0f4oHZg6mckySRy6RpHkDf9nk65A/w426-h640/1446.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>"Hey!" Trent cried, trying to squirm away from the older bear. "Get off, you're all sweaty!"<p></p><p>"I'm sorry," Frank said. "I thought this is what you wanted. A big, bulky, sweaty, old man to tussle with!" He gave it a few more beats until they both devolved into laughter, and made up with a short kiss.<br /></p><p>"Ooh," Trent said with a shiver. "You feel so much rougher now. It's almost like I'm kissing a stranger. It feels a little taboo..."</p><p>Stranger. That was how Frank felt. Compared to his usual self, he felt cumbersome, and weary. But also powerful, and seasoned. Ready for action, even if that little tussle had worn him out. As he gazed into his partner's eyes, now a man several decades younger than he was, he couldn't help but feel a little insecure. "So, for real this time. How do I look?"<br /></p><p>"You look beautiful, hon. Manly, mature, distinguished even. The potion lived up to its name, because you are a major DILF. A daddy I would definitely love to fuck." Trent gave him another quick kiss before reaching over, and squeezing his ass cheeks. "Oooh, I can't wait to pound those meaty cheeks into submission."</p><p>"Now hang on," Frank grumbled. "I'm your elder now, I'm the dominant daddy, and it's Father's Day. I should be the one fucking your ass, and asserting my dominance as the man of the house."</p><p>"Oh honey," Trent chuckled. "Don't you want to be the mentor, the caring man who teaches little inexperienced ol' me how to fuck like a real man, giving me tips and affirmations while I tease your hole to perfection?"<br /></p><p>"Well, we have the whole day until the elixir wears off. Maybe longer," Frank chuckled. He scratched at his prickly beard, wondering just how long it lasted. The guy never said, just that it would be a while. "So there's plenty of time to try all the scenarios we can think of."<br /></p><p>"Okay, I suppose I can be versatile for the day,"<br /></p><p>"But," Frank added with authoritarian in his voice. "Seeing as I bought the elixir, and I drank it too, I should get first dibs on the roleplay scenario. So you're going to be a good boy, and you're going to treat me to a wonderful Father's Day by sucking your daddy's cock, getting it all nice and ready for me to teach you the wonders of being a submissive bottom for a mature, dominant, man such as myself."<br /></p><p>Trent opened his mouth to argue, but seeing his husband's serious face, exaggerated by age to a stern, commanding figure, was enough to make him give in. "Okay..." He sighed, shuffling off the bed, and sliding down to Frank's hard dick, grasping it with a hand.</p><p>"Okay, what?"</p><p>"Ugh... Okay, daddy!"</p><p>"That's a good boy," Frank growled, giving Trent a solid pat on the back. Maybe he should think about making this a yearly tradition.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRxBg5TutEyUCNXawwMuY_9e28IROLv92sBkxtLhl9Mh4XofKdMWCTpKUFhu0e8GHqDaZDwDidfSZdR0pVM61odbf8I-ioEnQGa5as9CHaCCt6sXqImYJX1nZuFwzzsqnL6w3ZjUD6m_gjeMpxXpXtIQeoB9_QJpNaS6bouaKTYpcBIW5N3TMSYeIzyw/s1380/430746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1380" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRxBg5TutEyUCNXawwMuY_9e28IROLv92sBkxtLhl9Mh4XofKdMWCTpKUFhu0e8GHqDaZDwDidfSZdR0pVM61odbf8I-ioEnQGa5as9CHaCCt6sXqImYJX1nZuFwzzsqnL6w3ZjUD6m_gjeMpxXpXtIQeoB9_QJpNaS6bouaKTYpcBIW5N3TMSYeIzyw/w640-h418/430746.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <br /><p></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-36987897976663422092023-05-31T16:15:00.001-07:002023-09-30T16:47:23.164-07:00A Ritual<p></p><p>It started as a hypothetical. Not even that. I wasn't even the one who introduced the idea. And now our lives have been flipped, traded, intertwined. But I'm getting ahead of myself... Many decades back, whilst backpacking through Europe, I picked up a pair of of totems from an antique shop. I didn't understand the significance of them back then, I just thought they looked like unusual knick-knacks. The person who sold them to me surely didn't know either, I'm sure they can't have. Or they wouldn't have sold them to me for so cheap...<br /></p><p>Those totems still sit on my bookshelf alongside all the other various tchotchkes I've acquired over the years. I'd never even thought to look into their origins. Why would I? They were mass-produced tat for all I knew. It wasn't until my grandson, Greg, took a sudden interest in them. I was looking after him for the week while his mother went on one of her business trips. And as soon as he arrived, he made a bee-line for my bookshelf, and plucked them right off the top. He then went off on some tirade about a documentary he'd seen on the internet about old-world rituals. Apparently, these totems were used as part of a ritual that would allow two people to air grievances by putting themselves in the other's position, and working through their issues together. Or that's how it sounded to me.<br /></p><p>"Nuh-uh," Greg sighed with a shake of his head. "The guy on YouTube literally said they swapped minds."</p><p>"Exactly. They swapped their thoughts and troubles to better understand each other's position, and come to a mutual agreement." </p><p>"You're not getting it, Gramps." Greg took the totems, and swapped them around in his hands. "They swapped for real life, body and mind. They each became the other!"<br /></p><p>"Don't be ridiculous," I spat, upset by the very notion. "It's clearly metaphorical."<br /></p><p>Suddenly, a mischievous smile crept across Greg's face. "If it's so metaphorical, why don't we give it a try?"<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>"Excuse me?"<br /></p><p>"The vid details everything you need to perform the ritual, and it's super easy. Then we can see if it's literal or metaphorical. It'd be a fascinating learning experience. You're always saying I need more of those."</p><p>I did always say that, I thought with a grumble. But the whole situation sounded ridiculous. I mean, a magical ritual to swap bodies with another? It was like out of a sci-fi novel. And I didn't want some hokey voodoo bullshit messing up my kitchen. Yet Greg was oddly persistent in his desire to perform the ritual. He'd tempt me with tales of regained youth, and the experience of a lifetime. Of course, I'd counter with the fact that he'd be stuck as an old man for lord knows how long. Not to mention, he still had to go to school the following week.<br /></p><p>It was before dinner when Greg finally wore me down. If he truly wanted to do this, then I could tell there was no stopping him. Plus, it did mean the dinner table was cleaned up in minutes, which was a nice bonus. All that was left were the two totems, and a few tealight candles. Thankfully, there was no weird mumbo jumbo like sacrificial blood or what not. There was, however, a blend of herbs and flora mixed with spring water that Greg had so helpfully pre-prepared. He really wanted to do this ritual, huh. We rubbed the mix into our palms, and clasped the other's hands. Then we read aloud the incantation from Greg's phone. He'd written it out phonetically, and I think I still messed up a few of the words. But I guess it didn't matter because, as soon as we said the last word, the candles extinguined.</p><p>In the darkness, the totems had an ethereal glow to them that I'd never noticed before. A glow that seemed to strengthen until, before I knew it, the whole room was bathed in light. Then the totems emittted a fine mist. Each of us backed away as the mist flooded the room, lapping at our ankles. There was no stopping it from flooding out of the totems. I looked at my grandson, a faint, blue glow surrounded him. I looked to my hands, and there was a similar, yellow glow that seemed to eminate from within me. Before I could question it, a blast of wind formed around me, sending the mist spiralling around us. </p><p>I felt a weirdness in my body. I looked up at Greg, who was surprised to say the least. He was the one who believed in the ritual in the first place, yet he was now in complete shock. The light was pulsing around him, the light playing tricks on my eyes. He almost looked like he was getting taller, his shirt riding up his body. A dark shadow spread across his cheeks, and swept down his neck. Before I could speak, he was swallowed up by the fog. I couldn't see anything outside of the fog. But I could still hear Greg as he panicked.</p><p>"Gramps!?" He cried out. "Are you still there?"</p><p>"I'm still here, son!" I cried out myself. I tried to step forward, to reach out towards his voice, but I felt like I was glued to the spot. That glowing from my body had increased in brightness, almost blinding me as I gazed at my hands. Maybe it was my imagination, but underneath the light, my skin seemed to squirm and shift, the grooves, and callouses, and wrinkles seemingly smoothing out and vanishing before my very eyes.<br /></p><p>All over, I felt that bizarre tightening. Especially around my waist as my rounded stomach began to deflate. I grasped at it in vain, assuming that I was melting away to nothing! I was slimming down at an alarming rate, I would finally have been able to see my feet without bending past my gut if my pants hadn't fallen to the ground in the process! As the rapid weight loss came to a halt, leaving me as rake-thin as the teen who started all of this, I felt another peculiar notion. Underneath my tent of a shirt, a wave of squirming overcame me. I jammed a hand under the fabric, feeling smooth, supple, and completely hair-free skin. Then something brushed against the nape of my neck. With a jolt, I reached up to swat it away, only to encounter hair. Thick, shaggy tendrils that tickled my shoulders, and bounced around my ears. I patted around my head, feeling more hair than I'd probably had in decades! A sharp tug of the roots made me wince in pain, and reveal that it was all too real...<br /></p><p>All at once, the mist fell to the floor, and I collapsed into a chair along with it. I stared at my hands. They were slender, not a single callouse or wrinkle damaged the skin. My arm hair looked sparser, and was back to its reddish sheen. Any age spots, or roughness had simply vanished. I scrambled up to my face, feeling that same unnerving, soft skin, and a proper jawline no longer swamped by additional chins. The usual grit of stubble, and, to my horror, my prized mustache had all but vanished. Not even a wimpy attempt at a 'stache remained. I pulled myself to my feet, wobbling slightly from the unusual events. I was so slim, my clothes had practically fallen off of me.</p><p>Finally, my attention was drawn to Greg. He was stood in the center of the room, staring vacantly at the wall. I almost couldn't believe my eyes. Where I had been reduced to a shrimp of a lad, he had taken the full brunt of my maturity. He looked almost unrecognisable. His beautiful hair had all but fallen out, leaving behind a smooth dome dotted with age spots, and the stubbly shadow of what remained. A scruffy, white beard framed his round face. Wrinkles clawed at his eyes, and dented his large forehead. His clothes had ripped off in the change, leaving him almost naked, his underwear clinging on for dear life underneath the paunch he'd developed. More white hairs spread across his chest, and down his flabbier stomach. Surprisingly, several tattoos graced his arms, already slightly faded. Or had he always had those? Surely he wasn't old enough... Before this whole mess, anyway. "It worked..." I finally heard him utter. His voice was hoarse, and
gravelly. Even deeper than mine ever was. "I can't believe it..."</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ApIQIjHryzygCfw056zZtAyvM5I9Wb9mreDpPDEUDrT7lM8tTotf8ZgnogyKst1moDbLsNPXu7B1J11Q7DScGm-drznFmXc7-5mZn7zwNOCuF9yQRwrIFRaSQqoeF_i4AFUW04yz4zEDGGhTFwa7szsz8EJhlAcVa6wdvvevezPO5TPDMQYnjROzwg/s1280/EWiFyRzX0AAxY5o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ApIQIjHryzygCfw056zZtAyvM5I9Wb9mreDpPDEUDrT7lM8tTotf8ZgnogyKst1moDbLsNPXu7B1J11Q7DScGm-drznFmXc7-5mZn7zwNOCuF9yQRwrIFRaSQqoeF_i4AFUW04yz4zEDGGhTFwa7szsz8EJhlAcVa6wdvvevezPO5TPDMQYnjROzwg/w480-h640/EWiFyRzX0AAxY5o.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><p></p><p>Cautiously, I approached him from the side. I still could barely believe my eyes, that this heavyset, old man was actually Greg. And there I was, practically a beanpole of a kid. As I got closer, I noticed he was now a few inches taller than myself, enough that I had to gaze up at his dull stare. I rested a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at the touch, but didn't turn to face me. Finally, I yanked him into a tight hug. "Oh, my poor boy," I sighed. "You didn't deserve this..." </p><p>"The ritual was real..." <br /></p><p>"Yes, it was," I replied, stroking his bald head as I would have done to calm him down when he had hair. Unsurprisingly, it didn't help. I shook my head, and tutted. "Don't worry, son. You said this thing wasn't permanent, right?" I grabbed the totems off of the table, clacking them together. "We just have to set everything up again."<br /></p><p>The clacking must have woken Greg from his trance, as he reached out and grabbed me by the arm. "Now hang on a minute," He growled, his rough voice cutting through the room. "What's the rush, Gramps? I thought you wanted to be a teenager again?"</p><p>"I never said that," I rebutted. "I said I liked the thought of it. But I could never accept rejuvination if it meant you were the source of my youth. So let's do the creepy fog magic again, and forget any of this ever happened."<br /></p><p>Before I could place the totems back on the table, Greg suddenly snatched them from my hands. I tried to take them back, but he merely shifted away from me, putting them on the highest shelf he could muster. "You're not thinking this through properly." </p><p>I shook my head in disbelief, and cried "Me? Clearly you're not thinking this through! You can't seriously be suggesting we stay like this!"<br /></p><p>"We have a whole week before Mom gets back from her trip. That's a full week where you can have a break from being old."<br /></p><p>"A school week," I replied. "I'm not going to school for you. It sounds more like a break for you to goof off and do nothing!"<br /></p><p>"Well, it is one of the few benefits I get as a retiree," Greg said with a chuckle. Was he really making light of the situation? Then he pulled out a chair, and gestured for me to follow suit. As we sat, Greg rested a hand on his chin, his fingers combing through his beard. "Heh, that's weird," he mumbled under his breath.</p><p>I could barely believe my eyes. It was almost like this was a game to him. "You're really suggesting we live the other's life? Because I don't know if I'm capable of even pretending to be a teenager again. And, no offense, I clearly got the good end of the stick in this situation."</p><p>Greg laughed once more, a gravelly bark that didn't sit right with me. "You're right," he said. "Being old isn't fun, you know it. I definitely know it now. But I can put up with a few aches and pains for a week if it'll make you happy."</p><p>I stared at Greg for a moment. He sounded genuine. He had a soft smile that broke through his white beard, and creased his leathery skin. I could just about see the young man he used to be within that rugged exterior. He seemed genuinely okay with the turn of events. And while I knew it was a ridiculous situation, I have always dreamed of having a second chance at life. And maybe it would be a good learning experience for the both of us, for me to know what it's like to be young in the modern era, and for Greg to understand the realities of maturity and old age. I sighed, and bowed my head. "It feels like I should've been the one begging you, but okay! You broke me down. If you're definitely okay with it, we'll postpone the ritual. But only for a few days!</p><p>With a loud guffaw, Greg reached over to ruffle my copper hair like I would have done. "That's the spirit!" He cried. "With that sorted, why don't we get ready for dinner? I'm famished all of a sudden. How does chinese sound?" He rubbed his stomach, then pulled himself out of his chair with a grunt, and made his way towards the staircase, presumably to find the take-out menu, and put on some clothes.<br /></p><p>As he left, I looked back up to the totems, tucked away on a shelf I could no longer reach without assistance. I just couldn't shake that weird feeling that something wasn't right here. That Greg had something to hide, an ulterior motive that had him wanting to hide in a matured body instead of facing it head-on. Was there something happening at school? I sighed, and leapt out of my own chair with a grace I never could have mustered in my old body. Whatever it was eating at him, there was only one way to find out...</p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://agingtime.blogspot.com/2023/09/what-about-ritual.html">PART TWO</a></i><br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-77251001438198202332023-04-29T17:53:00.002-07:002023-04-29T17:53:25.092-07:00Man Flu<p>Rohan whimpered as his mom pulled the thermometer out of his mouth. She studied the end before tutting and shaking her head. "It's ninety-eight degrees. That's normal, you're perfectly fine."</p><p>"But moooom," he whined, his voice unusually deep and husky for a twelve-year-old. "I don't feel good! Even my throat hurts." He coughed meaningfully, as if to prove his point.<br /></p><p>"But nothing! What you have is a case of the man-flu. Now get ready for school."</p><p>As his mom left him to get ready, Rohan only dug himself further under the bed covers. He felt awful, and it hurt that his mom didn't believe him. Sure, there had been times in the past that he may have faked a flu to get out of school. And he did have an exam to take, one he hadn't prepared for. But he really wasn't faking it this time. He may not have a temperature, or clogged sinuses, or even a runny nose, but that didn't mean he wasn't actually sick!<span></span></p><a name='more'></a>Ever since that field trip to the National Museum of Science & Innovation, Rohan had been feeling under the weather. Maybe he shouldn't have messed with the equipment in the medical sciences exhibit, but he was triple dog dared, and you can't back out from something like that. And it's not like they wouldn't sterilize them before putting them on display, right? Rohan groaned as his stomach twisted in pain. He'd felt so much worse since he woke up. His whole body ached, twinges of pain flaring up when he moved. His head felt heavy, sweat dotting his forehead. Yet it wasn't until his voice suddenly dropped an octave, he knew something was wrong. He sounded like a grown man, husky and resonant, nothing like his usual dainty tones. There was a dull throb that squeezed through his joints, causing him to groan and squirm deeper under the covers of his bed.<p></p><p>Underneath the covers, Rohan shivered from the pain that rolled through him. He was unaware of how his body was actually changing, stretching longer, and growing thicker. It wasn't until he felt a cold draft across his feet that he noticed something was up, as his legs now struck out over the edge of the bed. Yet all he did was yank his legs closer to his body to keep them warm. Next to pop out from under the covers was his back and butt, the sudden change in temperature shocking him more than the rounded muscle that had swollen out from his <span aria-level="1" class="yKMVIe" role="heading">derrière</span>. He pulled the cover over his back, allowing his longer arms and heaving chest to emerge from the darkness. Rohan groaned, half from pain, half from frustration, and rolled onto his back, the bed creaking as he shifted his weight, until he managed to find a position that kept him entirely buried underneath the fabric.<br /></p><p>Alongside the uncomfortable aches that randomly throbbed throughout his ever-growing body, Rohan now felt an increasingly irritating itch that swept across his skin. It gnawed at his arms and legs, his torso and crotch, and everywhere in-between. Unbeknownst to him, it was the growth of tiny new hairs breaking free. It swept across his skin in a hirsute wave. He gritted his teeth, doing his best to ignore the irritating movement, knowing it could only end in tears. He sobbed into his pillow, wishing the whole experience would come to an end. And then it did.<br /></p><p>Rohan slowly opened his eyes, relaxing his clenched jaw. He felt fine. More than fine, he felt better. The unimaginable pain, the unbearable itch, they had vanished. Now a fleeting memory, or a distant dream. Had he imagined it all? He allowed himself to relax his whole body, unrolling from his ball, when something felt wrong. His arms flung over the sides of the bed, his legs spooled out, his feet hitting the floor. There was significantly less bed than there was before. Confused, Rohan popped his head back up from the covers, and frowned. It wasn't just his bed, his room felt smaller than usual, or was it just his imagination. His eyesight wasn't the best, after all.<br /></p><p>Reaching to his bedside table, Rohan scrambled for his glasses. Yet even they felt small in his grip, and even more snug against his face. His world turned smudgy, and he groaned aloud. Did he have his baby sister's glasses instead? But hers were pink, and these were his distinct moss green. Certainly an illness couldn't correct his vision, right? He gazed intently at his glasses, noticing how his hand swamped the frames. Each finger long and slender, his palm wide and square. He flipped them over, gasping as he noticed short, dark hairs littering the backs of them. The hairs multiplied and lengthened as they raced up past his wrists, and wrapping his forearms in a bristly coating. This was definitely not something an illness could do!<br /></p><p>In a panic, Rohan ripped the covers off of his body, and his eyes widened in shock. It wasn't his bed, it was him. He was huge! It was as if he'd doubled in size. And much like his arms, a soft layer of black hairs spread across his body. It curled all across his torso, and fluffed up around his crotch, obscuring his evidently larger package. He instinctively slammed a hand into his mouth in surprise, only to recoil as the blow was softened by the thick, black beard that enveloped his cheeks. He froze for a moment, trying to process what had happened. He felt unwell, he felt an intense pain, and he had grown large, and hairy. He thought back to what his mom had said before leaving his room. Could he really have become a man?<br /></p><p>Dumbstruck, Rohan slowly reached a hand toward his chest, flinching as his fingers brushed against the soft hairs that carpeted them. He pressed a palm against his left pec, giving it a light squeeze as he felt the solid muscle underneath. A smile broke his lips as he tugged downwards, his stomach clenching as his hand passed over the newfound brawn and curls, until he reached his crotch. He wrapped his fingers around his cock, hard and proud. A jolt flew through him, up his spine and down his legs. It felt good. He gasped, and covered his mouth. But the contact with his beard made his cock twitch again, sending that wave throughout his body once more. He moaned aloud, his voice guttural.<br /></p>Unluckily, his moans attracted the attention of his mother, who stomped upstairs. Rohan came to his senses with just enough time to pull the covers back over his nude body. Seconds later, his mom burst through his bedroom door in a frantic manner. "Rohan! You're going to be late if you keep this up! Stop fooling-" She stopped mid-sentence as her eyes fell upon the large, hirsute mass laying on her son's bed. The covers half covered the man, his hairy chest fully exposed. <p>Rohan looked up at his mom with a weak smile. "I told you I wasn't well," he said, almost excited. His hoarse baritone echoed around the room. "But I feel much better now. I think you were right, I had the man-flu".</p><p>She screamed.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjasqg6Mx5M6P74fVxVranTfhKoPwYfo47rHOsAVKSWPsMhUxHHA-IrXHz1q4leKp7w1_iTflWqIwgSMq1iBJFdnoGSzH8jNJOSlj1fr9kiLW3tQRh4rns6EC-lBIksAf9MfcxE9dANOax6-o1AAh6y_qpSSD0brgTYb_FT5B1if3q-XNtdxgu8yYWt1w/s1153/tumblr_6fe2069217a12a40b926c8017d408924_f4272a3b_1280.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjasqg6Mx5M6P74fVxVranTfhKoPwYfo47rHOsAVKSWPsMhUxHHA-IrXHz1q4leKp7w1_iTflWqIwgSMq1iBJFdnoGSzH8jNJOSlj1fr9kiLW3tQRh4rns6EC-lBIksAf9MfcxE9dANOax6-o1AAh6y_qpSSD0brgTYb_FT5B1if3q-XNtdxgu8yYWt1w/w600-h640/tumblr_6fe2069217a12a40b926c8017d408924_f4272a3b_1280.jpg" width="600" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-62477814832494278342023-03-24T19:15:00.000-07:002023-03-24T19:15:12.314-07:00Birthday Bumps<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILHGHkW-HWiUwvE_hNHthnK1eJs7vZKngsmk5tm9Ds3hAvy4fguV_vq_nNJYvMz6wkmcx90-hXCrTyQUfr3hJICOdOCGQj1dJxdNS1MKir7v5rRSzGKPX1Q2tJen_p_K9bjW8tyxMPBIlFzxtOWPKWUn8Y80UmEEn8gx0ZXjWb6mAJDM0Da9MZYM-mQ/s750/tumblr_pks8b14FRh1sp6btd_1280.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILHGHkW-HWiUwvE_hNHthnK1eJs7vZKngsmk5tm9Ds3hAvy4fguV_vq_nNJYvMz6wkmcx90-hXCrTyQUfr3hJICOdOCGQj1dJxdNS1MKir7v5rRSzGKPX1Q2tJen_p_K9bjW8tyxMPBIlFzxtOWPKWUn8Y80UmEEn8gx0ZXjWb6mAJDM0Da9MZYM-mQ/w640-h640/tumblr_pks8b14FRh1sp6btd_1280.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p>"What's wrong? You've been a little distant this whole meal."</p><p>"Huh?" I glanced over to Ethan, who had put an arm around my shoulder. I shook my head, and took a puff of my cigar. "It's complicated..." I sighed. "Just dwelling on the uncertainties of life, and the future, and stuff."</p><p>"Aw, babe, you shouldn't fret about that, especially on your birthday!" He took me by the arm, and led us back to our table where a small designer cake with a single candle sat atop. "Relax, you only turn 38 once, after all."</p><p>Ethan tugged lightly on my beard, pulling me closer as we locked lips in a loving kiss. I smiled for him, and blew out the candle to his delight. But I couldn't help but dwell on my thoughts. Everything was happening so fast, it wasn't supposed to be this complicated.</p><p>--------------------<br /></p><p>It was while we stood at the front of the restaurant, waiting for our server to return and lead us to our reserved table. I was bouncing on my feet impatiently, when I felt a heavy figure crash into my back. I stumbled with an "oof!" Turning around, I glared at the man who had bumped into me.<br /></p><p>He looked apologetic but didn't even stop. "Sorry, kid!" he cried out, almost as an afterthought, as he rushed through the crowded restaurant, to the balcony in the back.</p><p>I frowned, but shook off the accident. I wasn't going to let some jerk ruin my birthday. I was finally entering double digits, the big 1-0. I was going to have an awesome lunch with my best friends before heading to the entertainment complex that recently opened down the street. There was an arcade with VR, laser tag, mini golf, and a Ninja Warrior style obstacle course all under one roof! It was going to be the best birthday!<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><br /><p></p><p>It wasn't until we were all sat down at the table and made our order, I wanted the biggest burger on the menu of course, that I found myself lost in thought. Dwayne had everyone engrossed in his latest Fortnite venture, while I dwelled on the future. Outside of the party, and the presents, I've never particularly enjoyed birthdays. It was a reminder that I was another year older. Closer to finishing school. Closer to getting a job, and getting married, and having kids... It was years off, decades even. But the passage of time was still inevitable. I couldn't stay a kid forever, even if I wished for it.</p><p>I sighed, and cupped my chin against my palm, elbow resting on the table. But instead of skin, I felt something rough and scratchy. My eyes widened, and I yelped, jumping back in my seat. Everyone turned to stare at me. "Yo, it wasn't that scary," Dwayne chortled, my other friends joining him in the gentle mockery.<br /></p><p>"Yeah, no, I..." I felt my tongue lock up in my mouth, my cheeks burning red. But I didn't dare touch them again, in case that roughness was still there. I became acutely aware of my clothes against my body. They felt uncomfortably tight, as if plastered to my skin. Glancing down, they almost looked too small for me. I tugged on my shirt, which was riding up my belly, then mumbled "I'm gonna go to the restroom..."</p><p>Jumping up from the table, I almost ran to where the restrooms were, bursting through the door, my breath heavy. As I cautiously stepped further inside, I jumped as a figure appeared to my right. A young man, maybe college aged, in a crop top and booty shorts. I turned to face him, and he turned as well. I rose my hands up, so did he. The mimicry was uncanny, until I noticed the corners of the mirror. My breath caught in my throat, and I stumbled back from the sinks. It was me! But it couldn't be, he was tall, and had hair on his arms and belly. There was a big lump protruding from his throat, and his face was covered with a dense scruffy stubble. I had to be imagining things. And yet,glancing down, I could see the hairs covering my belly. The bulge in my too-tight shorts. My hairy legs, and massive feet close to snapping the straps on my sandals. I brought a hand to my stomach, clutching at the dark curls around my belly button, and yanked hard. I flinched. The resulting pain was very real.</p><p>Panting in fear, I ducked into a cubicle, and tried to calm myself down. Which was hard to do, considering I was a freakin' man! My clothes felt even tighter against my growing body. In my resulting panic, I pulled the shirt over my head, revealing another forest of curly hairs circling my chest. Then I yanked my shorts off, letting my dick and balls roam free, their weight bouncing against the toilet seat with a soft thud. Now completely unrestricted, I could feel my breath begin to deepen, my heartbeat slowly returning to normal. I opened my eyes once more, still not thrilled to be greeted with the mound of hairy flesh that was now my body. One thing was for sure, I needed new clothes. But who could even help me? My hands were too shaky to even open my phone. I dropped it on the pile of ill-fitting clothes, and whined quietly. "Why is this happening on my birthday..."</p><p>"It's your birthday?" A voice asked meekly. I didn't even realise someone else had entered the restrooms. "Sorry, it's just... It's my birthday today too." The voice sounded sort of familiar. Carefully, I creaked open the cubicle, and peeked through the gap. Standing on the other side was a familiar figure.</p><p>"Hey! You're the guy who pushed me!"</p><p>"Me?" The man threw his hands up in defence, shaking his head wildly. "You have the wrong guy, I haven't pushed anyone!"</p><p>"Yeah, you did! At the entrance, you ran into me, and barely even said sorry!"</p><p>"The only person I remember bumping into was a young kid. I didn't bu-" He paused for a second, scratching his furry cheeks, then whispered, "Oh no... No, that's not possible..."<br /></p><p>"You're the reason this is happening to me!" I growled, before swinging open the stall door. The man looked away with a blush. </p><p>"Woah, what the fuck, man! Where are your clothes!?"</p><p>I jabbed a thumb to the floor. "They're too small for me. Because I've grown bigger. Because you did something to make me older!" I glanced towards the mirror over the sinks, and almost looked away myself when I saw the hairy, naked man I'd become. I had bulked up considerably, my shoulders were broad, and there was significant definition to my chest. My stubble had grown out to a short beard, now a solid inch off of my face. As if in retaliation, my hair had also shortened considerably. From this angle, my dick looked even longer, and veiny. It gave an involuntary twitch when I caught sight of it.<br /></p><p>I cocked my head back to the man, who shook his head defiantly. "Don't blame me, I have no idea what's happening either!" He leaned against the counter, as if taking in his reflection. "I was chatting with my partner when he commented on me growing my hair out. I always have a buzzcut, and yet it was like I hadn't shaved in weeks. So I came here to see what was up. And apparently, a lot is up!"<br /></p><p>"So you have hair again. What's that got to do with me?"</p><p>"My gray hairs are gone," he muttered with a tug of his beard. "And my beard is shorter, that took me months to grow... I think I'm getting younger? But it makes no sense!" He slammed </p><p>I grunted myself, and scratched at my chest. I was even hairier than before, the curls lapping up to my shoulders, edging closer to my thick beard. "Maybe it's a birthday thing."<br /></p><p>"No, that's just a coincidence. Like if if we were both left-handed, or our names were Thomas."</p><p>I gasped, "That is my name! Same name, same birthday, it's like some bizarro magic!"</p><p>"Coincidence!" He stressed once again. But I knew he was thinking the same thing. Some sort of birthday magic was affecting us. Even now, one glance in the mirror, and we practically looked like brothers. He sighed, and dragged a hand down his face. "This shouldn't be happening..."<br /></p><p>A minute passed as we dwelled on the situation. I could only watch as I continued to get older. My beard puffed out ever longer, my hair receding back into my scalp. My muscles would pump ever bigger, my torso getting thicker, and wider to accomodate my increased bulk. Likewise, Thomas seemed to get younger. His beard was diminishing rapidly until it was barely a couple inches long. His frame was also shrinking, his brawny muscles deflating within his baggier clothes. Neither of us looked happy with the situation. Eventually, I sniffed, and wiped away a tear. "I don't want to be old..."</p><p>"I'm not that old!" Thomas grunted. "Besides, as if I want to be some snot-faced brat? Things were just beginning to look up for me. I got promoted at work, and a decent pay rise. Things are going so great with Ethan, we talked, and decided to move in together. I just found the perfect house for us, we were going to take a look next week... And now I'm being faced with a second puberty, and possibly reliving the worst years of my life! It's just not fair!" I dwelled on his words with sadness. I wanted to stay a kid, the thought
of growing up scared me. Whereas Thomas wanted to stay an adult,
because his childhood scared him. It was like some sort of sick
punishment... </p><p>I tugged on my beard, nervously toying with it. It had gotten so long, it now brushed against my collarbone. I could feel the individual hairs catching and curling against my chest hair. Completely new sensations that felt unnerving to me. I rubbed my scalp, my hair now reduced to a scratchy, irritating stubble.<br /></p><p>By now, Thomas looked noticeably younger. His beard was non-existent, a mere shadow still clung to his cheeks. His hair had grown out into a short, layered cut. Not only that, but his frame had diminished significantly, his clothes now hanging off him like a deflated balloon. Any thinner, and they would just slide off his body. He was fighting a losing war against gravity. Eventually, I sighed and asked, "Do you want to trade clothes? It's not like mine will fit me any longer."<br /></p><p>He paused for a second, as if there was still a way to return to his original size. Eventually, Thomas nodded slowly. I tossed him my clothes, and he pulled a face. "Ew, why did you leave these on the floor?" I shrugged my shoulders, and he only rolled his eyes in response. <br /></p><p>We both ducked into a cubicle each, Thomas hasitly shoving his clothes underneath the divider. As I unfurled the pile, I stuck my nose up. Even his clothes were so stuffy, and boring. I mean, a waistcoat? Seriously? But it's what I had to put up with. It even felt nice to not be naked after all that time. Once I was fully dressed, I tugged on everything with a frown. It fit me perfectly. And I almost wish it hadn't.<br /></p><p>I left the cubicle and surveyed my features. By the looks of things, we had reached the end. I looked a lot like Thomas once did, with that close buzzcut, and the really long, bushy beard. There were even, to my dismay, several dozen white hairs sprinkled throughout its tangled mess. breaking up the brown monotomy. Yet, underneath the harsh, masculine features, I could still see a semblance of myself. That little familiarity made me feel a little better. Something to cling to in this strange situation. I filled out his clothes with gusto, my broad shoulders contrasting with my slimmer waist. At the very least, getting to grow so buff without putting in the effort was a positive. Although now I would have to keep it up... <br /></p><p>I tapped my fingers on the counter impatiently. "You OK in there, Tommy?"</p><p>"It's Thomas!" The squeaky voice called out hesitantly. "I can't believe you'd wear this shit..." The other toilet stall opened, and Thomas came out with an annoyed look on his face. He was a short kid with fluffy hair, and a cherub face. Was I really that small? I couldn't believe it. He threw me a horrid glance. "I mean, Rick & Morty?" He whined, tugging on the graphic tee that fit him perfectly. "Seriously?"</p><p>I gave him a shrug. "It's funny, I like it. So do my friends."</p><p>"Whatever..." He came over to the sinks once more, and we stared at our reflections. We were almost perfect doubles of who we once were. "So what now?" Thomas asked. "We just... Pretend? Go and live a new life like nothing happened here?" <br /></p><p>"Well what else is there to do? Nobody's going to believe us..."</p><p>"Right..." He looked weary, as if holding back tears. I felt the same way. Our lives had been thrown into disarray, and all we could do was accept it.<br /></p><p>"Well, my family's to the right. You can't miss them, they brought balloons."</p><p>"Right... Well, Ethan's out on the balcony at the back. He's wearing the most garish shirt you've ever seen. I told him not to wear it, but he insisted." He smiled wistfully at the thought. "Well... Good luck..."<br /></p><p>I watched as the kid left the bathroom first, headed towards my former family, and leaving me alone. I waited a minute, gathering up the courage, and finally headed towards the back of the restaurant. As I approached the balcony, I noticed a man sat alone. He looked a few years older than me, with a salt & pepper beard, much, much shorter than mine, and a thick head of kinky curls. Not to mention a hot pink hawaiian shirt that popped against his dark skin. He perked up as I walked towards him. It was strange, I'd never seen this guy before, and yet I just instantly knew who he was. What he was like. Where we first met, where we danced, and dined, and played, and lived. I almost froze from the cacophony of feelings until he pulled me into a big hug. <br /></p><p>"You were away so long, I was about to send a search party!"</p><p>"Haha..." I chuckled, unamused. "You know what it's like with restrooms."</p><p>We sat down together, drinks already on the table. A bottle of champagne, and two full glasses. A plate of charcuterie sat untouched. Ethan smiled. "So, birthday boy! Here you are." He unveiled a small present wrapped with string.<br /></p><p>I opened it politely, gazing at the contents with shock. "Woah, is that..."</p><p>"Your favorite!" I reached into the box and pulled out a long cigar. I'd never seen one up close before. I twisted it around in my hand, unsure what to do. Thomas may have smoked, but did that mean I had to? Before I could decide, Ethan took the cigar from my hand, along with one of his own, and graciously prepared them for us. "Happy birthday, Tom!" He grinned, taking a puff of his own cigar.</p><p>"Thanks," I mumbled, following suit. Preparing myself for a new life. It had already taken a turn I hadn't expected.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVCwQ-uCMbmQWjGXbDUx685N92gsoIE-BOqrOxAYYNBmNqLl1ieof-2kCWpEEA6DjaBHzulhztpPV_FPhqBFQSVZta-5CIdk7nJZon0YkyZjYgBPKNn_lstu2oFvhsi3MXmUBKZeU5aZqpBMeCzCenAchnP6srW_n3Izejg1Y63MuTF--38ODmMnZWlw/s1080/75439578_754393715023754_567495273588551671_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVCwQ-uCMbmQWjGXbDUx685N92gsoIE-BOqrOxAYYNBmNqLl1ieof-2kCWpEEA6DjaBHzulhztpPV_FPhqBFQSVZta-5CIdk7nJZon0YkyZjYgBPKNn_lstu2oFvhsi3MXmUBKZeU5aZqpBMeCzCenAchnP6srW_n3Izejg1Y63MuTF--38ODmMnZWlw/w640-h640/75439578_754393715023754_567495273588551671_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>An hour passed as I smoked my cigar, drank champagne, nibbled on light snacks, and chatted with Ethan. It sounded like he had big plans for the day, but I couldn't help but let my mind drift, wondering how I ended up in this situation. Then my ears perked up. Inside the restaurant was a rowdy singing.</p><p>"Sounds like you're not the only birthday boy," Ethan said with a chuckle.</p><p>"I suppose not," I replied, craning my neck to look inside. I could see a large birthday cake lit up with candles being handed towards a crowd of a dozen, the boy in the center had a nervous smile. He glanced up, and we locked eyes. I gave him a nod of the head, a wry smile imperceptible beneath my beard. He smiled wistfully before blowing the candles out to a resulting cheer. </p><p>Ethan gave me a tight squeeze. "The good ol' days, huh? When we'd gorge on candy and cake with boundless energy, and nothing to get in the way of having fun."</p><p>"Yeah..."</p><p>"We should probably think about getting a move on if we want to make that art tour. Oh, and then I was thinking we could-"</p><p>"Actually..." I interrupted, still watching as the cake was cut, and the kids fought over the best slice. "I was thinking. There's that new place down the street, with the mini-golf? What if..."</p><p>"Satisfying the inner child, huh?" Ethan remarked with a chuckle. "Why not. It's your birthday, after all! But I'm not going easy on you."</p><p>I joined him in laughter, laying my head against his shoulder, and he kissed the top of my forehead. We watched over the streets, smoking the remnants of our cigars. I finally allowed myself to smile. I may be older, but that didn't mean I had to give up on fun. In fact, I could find new ways to have fun, adult things I could only have imagined. I never thought I'd be the kind of guy who enjoyed smoking a cigar, or drinking champagne, and yet here I was. Meanwhile, Thomas could have a better childhood the second time around, filled with friends and family. And who knows, maybe we'll bump into each other again. We never did figure out the logisitcs.<br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-11851577206337423642023-02-24T18:29:00.003-08:002023-02-24T18:32:41.756-08:00Bigger<p style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-family: Permanent Marker; font-size: medium;">Want to be bigger? <span style="color: #2b00fe;"><u>CLICK HERE!</u></span></span></b></i></p><p>Jerry stared at the ad on his phone. He only wanted to look up a walkthrough to a game he'd gotten stuck on. Then the video he'd chosen was interrupted by an ad break, as was typical. However, the ad choice was unusual. Even weirder, it didn't end. There was no timer counting down the remaining seconds. No X to close that would resume his video. Despite the irregularity, Jerry remained transfixed by those six simple words. <br /></p><p>Because of course, he wanted to be bigger. It was his strongest desire, one he hadn't told anyone before. Not that they'd be surprised. What eleven-year-old didn't want to? And here was this intrusive advert, just begging him to interact. He knew not to click on dodgy links, that was basically Internet Safety 101. Yet, that innate desire of his, to be bigger than he was, it was too much. He squinted his eyes, and tapped the glowing link, before releasing a breath he didn't even realise he was holding. </p><p>As the page loaded, Jerry dwelled on his predicament. It just wasn't fair. He was the shortest kid in his class. He was the thinnest, too. His best friend used to be as short as he was. Then he had a major growth spurt, leaving him in the dust. Everyone seemed to tower over him. His dad would always laugh it off, saying he was also the runt when he was the same age. But now he was tall, and broad, and so much bigger than everyone else in the family. It just wasn't fair, he'd waited years for that hypothetical growth spurt, when was it even going to happen? He wanted to be bigger now!<br /></p><p>Finally, the website loaded. It was a garish looking piece of work that Jerry would have immediately backed out of, were it not for its promise. Still, it looked like it was made by an amateur in the early days of the internet, with pixellated GIFs, bold colours, and mismatching fonts. In the centre was a single message.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #ffa400; font-family: Rock Salt;">Do You want to be BIGGER? The biggest in your CLASS? In your SCHOOL?? Even bigger than your DAD???</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Rock Salt;"><span style="color: #ff00fe;">Follow our <b>INSTANT</b> embiggening plan below!!!</span><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merienda; font-size: x-large;"><u><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">BIGGER</span></b></u></span></p><p>Jerry raised an eyebrow. That was a little too specific, almost as if it were aimed at him. But surely he wasn't the only one... With a small bit of hesitation, he tapped the blue link. As the page loaded, his phone sparked. He jumped back in shock, dropping it on the floor. He slammed a palm into his forehead, why would he do something so foolish!? Had he busted his phone? Was it now a virus-ridden block? His parents were gonna ground him for a year! It was a hand-me-down, too... Carefully, he picked the phone up, and sighed in relief. The screen still worked, and it wasn't cracked either. The website now displayed a progress bar. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merienda; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Permanent Marker; font-size: small;">EMBIGGENING</span> - 3%.</span><span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>Jerry cocked his head, curious. What did it even mean? Had he stumbled upon some weird role-playing site? His answer came in the form of a discomfort across his body. His clothes had shrunk on him. "No way..." he whispered as he tugged on his once baggy shirt, now tight and short, pulling it off before it tore. Looking around his room, it felt like he was standing on a chair. But he was on solid ground. Striding up to his door frame, he could just about touch the top without getting on his tip-toes. "Oh my god..." His eyes lit up, "I'm actually bigger!" It was actually happening! He could whoop with joy!</p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merienda; font-size: medium;">17%</span></p><p>Jerry ran down the hallway, and into the bathroom. He didn't want to miss a single moment. He was giddy with excitement as he burst through the door. He looked at himself. Sure enough, he had to be a foot taller already. Not to mention broader, too. He was no longer a matchstick. There was a healthy amount of weight piled onto his body to match his increased height. There was now a lean definition to his body, the kind he could only dream of attaining. Boy, was everyone going to be shocked when they finally saw Jerry Kitts, Big Boy!<br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merienda;"><span style="font-size: medium;">36%</span></span></p><p>As he gushed over his increased body size, Jerry noticed something else. Something weird. A darkening layer to his arms and legs. A furry shadow spreading across his chest. He tugged on the curls that had appeared on his chest, and flinched. He wasn't imagining it, he had chest hair. He was getting hairy. But that didn't make any sense, he only wanted to be bigger. And it wasn't just the body hair. His face appeared different. No longer rounded and cherub-like. It had gotten longer, his jawline more angular. And at his throat, there was a small lump that wobbled as he gulped. "I'm not just getting bigger, am I?" He uttered in a deep, resonant voice that startled him. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merienda; font-size: medium;">49%</span></p><p>He watched as more hair surrounded his mouth. He rubbed at the bristly growth, his heart pounding. There was no denying it, he was getting older. He scratched at his new scruff with intimidation. He wasn't sure he liked this anymore. He hadn't considered that there were many ways to be bigger. Some he clearly didn't anticipate. Even now, it was obvious that was he an adult, a man in his mid-twenties. "Jerry Kitts... Big Man..." He growled, his guttural voice making him tingle. It was exciting, he was a grown up now! With chest hair, and muscles. He couldn't believe he was so buff. His pecs were solid as granite, and his arms and legs built like tree trunks. It wouldn't be long until his rock-hard abs would surface upon his flat stomach.<br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merienda; font-size: medium;">65%</span></p><p>More and more mass continued to pile onto Jerry's growing frame. He couldn't tell, but he had to be nearing his dad's height. The thought alone made him giddy. He almost didn't notice the roundness of his stomach. He poked at the curve with a frown, he thought for sure he'd have abs by now. A frown that dropped to abject horror, as his belly began to inflate in size. "No!" His eyes bulged as he grappled with his growing stomach, trying to stop its encroaching path. "Stop...Growing..." He wanted to be bigger, but he didn't want to be fat! He looked back up to the mirror with desperation, as if his reflection could somehow help. Yet he only noticed his square jaw was rounding out with an extra chin. He was looking more and more like his dad now. And he wanted to be bigger than him... He wasn't ready!</p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merienda; font-size: medium;">81%</span></p><p>He was getting too big, much too big. Not only that, he was still getting older. Wrinkles were folding into his weary face, too tired to resist. When his hairline rapidly began to recede, he merely accepted the loss. Because <i>of course</i> he was losing his hair. His dad wasn't, but he was. Much like his dad didn't have a beach ball for a belly. But here he was, stomach still inflating beneath his fingertips. To think this was something he desperately wanted mere minutes ago. But he hadn't really considered what being bigger meant to him until this moment. His stomach continued to bloat outwards, pushing forwards with every breath. His chest piled up on top, sagging a little under the weight. His hair had continued to erode away, his short spikes vanishing into thin air until not a single follicle remained on his scalp. <br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merienda; font-size: medium;">98%</span></p><p>There was a chime from his phone, and Jerry was done changing. He was bigger. Bigger than anyone in his class, in his school, even bigger than his dad! But what that entailed, he couldn't decide was good or bad. He stood in front of the mirror, poking and prodding at his bigger form. He stroked his soft goatee, pushing a finger into his double chin. Then he stoked his smooth scalp, the lack of hair twisting his gut. He flexed his arms, showing off the large bicep muscles that still existed underneath his fatty form. He shook his enormous belly, it didn't jiggle like jelly. It bounced like a rubber ball. Solid and formidable. It was a massive change compared to how he used to be. And faced with the reality of being bigger, it left him uneasy. Maybe there was a way to reverse it all. To unbiggify himself. When he grabbed his phone, the progress bar had vanished. In its places was a loading screen.<br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Merienda;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Updating Mentality - Acceptance</span></span><br /></p><p>Before he could question what that meant, Jerry felt a sudden shiver shake through his body, making his ball belly quiver. A smile crept onto his face. His gaze in the mirror softened from uneasiness to pleasure. Maybe this wasn't exactly what he wanted. To be a fat, hairy, middle-aged man. But he was bigger than his dad. In height, in age, in width, and presumably elsewhere. And the thought now made him positively happy. He'd had that growth spurt his dad promised him, and then some! Not only that, but he'd become a man, well into his forties with the middle-aged spread, and male pattern baldness to show for it. And he felt all the better for it, because his only desire had been achieved. He was bigger.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Rock Salt; font-size: medium;">Thank you for using our embiggening services! Remember to rate, review, and share with your friends!</span></p>Jerry
tapped a finger against his bristly chin. He hadn't considered telling
anyone else about it. Not everyone would be so thrilled to become a
huge, quivering wall of mature muscle and fat like him. Then again, the
world could do with more big blokes like him around. "Eh, why not!" He
growled
in that grizzly voice of his, giving the OK button a sharp tap. Except
it led to a dead link. There was nothing to rate, nowhere to review,
not even a link to share. The web address was non-existent. Yet somehow,
he knew it had done its job. Or his name wasn't Jerry Kitts, Big Man!<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsZ8t32i7v59HsDk9nH1OWXJizPq7b0r0bsYzZEnCu0FeNxDIRqccMIhkG5ZDAM3ZdT63AS_gayNLifNUy28HaY352GrKmwIQbKDljnd9yDBOfvrvS1s4nn-dvGBHJT7_Lllm0uTR2iruC-UjXHuN3dTL2e0Lf0G73MLUnhveeHY5MEXG-5Y4mMUFuQ/s1280/tumblr_nfbkxgMKF61qcjoxlo1_1280.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="989" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsZ8t32i7v59HsDk9nH1OWXJizPq7b0r0bsYzZEnCu0FeNxDIRqccMIhkG5ZDAM3ZdT63AS_gayNLifNUy28HaY352GrKmwIQbKDljnd9yDBOfvrvS1s4nn-dvGBHJT7_Lllm0uTR2iruC-UjXHuN3dTL2e0Lf0G73MLUnhveeHY5MEXG-5Y4mMUFuQ/w494-h640/tumblr_nfbkxgMKF61qcjoxlo1_1280.jpg" width="494" /></a></div><p></p><p></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-3263649148058976492023-02-01T15:59:00.001-08:002023-02-01T16:00:17.410-08:00Tānetanga Beach<p>Louie grumbled to himself as he forked several banknotes over to the scruffy cashier in front of him. Sunscreen, bottled drinks, snacks, beach towels, even a tacky inflatable toy. His son had somehow forgotten to pack everything required for their visit to the beach. Then instead of staying with him, Sean decided to run off and find a spot on the beach while he paid for the lot. </p><p>When he booked a getaway to New Zealand, Louie specifically chose a quiet looking town within the Bay of Plenty, wanting to stay away from the hustle and bustle of the bigger, more populated cities. However, it seemed the entire country had the same idea, as the summer vacation crowds became apparent. It was Sean's desire to visit Ōhope beach in particular. There had to be countless, beautiful coastal areas further afield. Yet here they were, mere yards from their hotel, in what appeared to be a locals hotspot.</p><p>As Louie left the gift shop, he swept his head left and right in search of his son. But it was no use, there were too many people. Thankfully, he'd stuck Sean's phone on a location tracking app, just for emergencies. He opened it up, and frowned. That couldn't be right. According to the little dot, Sean was on the other side of the forested headland west of the beach. Sure enough, as Louie approached the hill, there was a wooden pathway up and into the forest above. He climbed the stairs with a grumble. Why was Sean sending him on a wild goose chase? </p><p>Following the directions on his phone, Louie came to an abrupt halt. The manmade path continued to the left, but a wilder, natural path led straight ahead. The only sign of civilisation were several signs stuck in the ground, and hammered to trees. They were grimy and faded, but the message was clear; don't pass this point. He looked at his app, and cringed. Sean was on the other side of those signs!<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>Nervous, Louie approached the most intact sign, trying to make sense of the worn-out letters. "Something-tanga... Access limited... No kids or women?" He scratched his head, was it a male only beach? Did those exist? Maybe it was a New Zealand thing. But it went on. "Be aware of... effects... Masculinity... Huh? What in the..." Whatever the signs were for, it didn't sound good. And Sean was definitely disobeying them!<span></span> </p><p>As the trees cleared, Louie gasped at the view. It was a secluded beach surrounded by cliffs. There were only a few men sunbathing, paradise compared to the throngs on the other side of the headland. It didn't look to be dangerous, despite the abundance of warnings. In fact, it was rather serene. A hidden gem of sorts. No wonder Sean had sought it out. Speaking of whom, Louie couldn't see him at all. He followed his phone until he spotted a pile of dumped clothes, a towel, and a backpack. He recognised them all as his son's, and yet couldn't spot him anywhere in the area.</p><p>As he looked around, he spotted a man by the water's edge waving out to him. He was relatively brawny, with a short beard, and a bald head. His body hair clung to his muscles, looking like he'd been swimming in the ocean. Louie was relieved, this man must know where Sean was. He dumped his bags with everything else, and rushed towards him. "Excuse me," Louie gasped as he caught his breath. "I'm looking for my son, and I saw you waving. You wouldn't happen to know where he is?" <br /></p><p>"Your son?" The man nodded his head with an impish smile. "About ye high, short, black hair, blue eyes, weedy looking teenager who grew half a foot in a week, and now nothing fits him, so he's got hand-me-downs from his nerdy cousins which also don't fit him?"<br /></p><p>"Uhm, yes?" </p><p>The man snorted, his face twitching until he suddenly burst into laughter. "I'm sorry!" He gasped between breaths. "I can't help it, it's just so funny. You're looking for me, and here I am!"</p><p>"Excuse me? No, I'm looking for my son."</p><p>"Yeah, I'm Sean. See? I got your trunks on." He tugged on his swimming shorts, which Louie recognised, even if they were a bit generic. "Oh! And the signature scar on my leg!" He rolled his trunks up a little to reveal a nasty spiral of a burn. "From that glue gun incident a few years back!"<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrlu5v2HahP_NWRP2JP7A5102Zzf5eU6vnpbozLe5H1o3pzlRkUNYx6Q_cK83dI4__Pfal1Xlv9cWPfgtBK26sj1BfO1ULDCG8Mgyyd6GYUKm6IuEHmBB66kphBBBQXqW6Ej147fVFwzaN6K14fDz0Gs87i4XqdANuEz4caRJMwO7Sxciba6b0GSalww/s1603/tumblr_9ddd4ef2d289deaf341adddefde43d43_7527817c_1280.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1603" data-original-width="1063" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrlu5v2HahP_NWRP2JP7A5102Zzf5eU6vnpbozLe5H1o3pzlRkUNYx6Q_cK83dI4__Pfal1Xlv9cWPfgtBK26sj1BfO1ULDCG8Mgyyd6GYUKm6IuEHmBB66kphBBBQXqW6Ej147fVFwzaN6K14fDz0Gs87i4XqdANuEz4caRJMwO7Sxciba6b0GSalww/w424-h640/tumblr_9ddd4ef2d289deaf341adddefde43d43_7527817c_1280.jpg" width="424" /></a></div><p></p><p>Louie gaped at the scar, too perfect to be a coincidence, then back up at the burly, middle aged man. He began to stammer, "Wh...But...No. Nooonono. This doesn't... How could..."</p><p>Sean put an arm around his dad's shoulder, who immediately shook off the friendliness and stepped away. "Okay, I know it's a shock. But it's simple to explain. The beach made me a man."</p><p>"The beach... What?"</p><p>"Tānetanga Beach. It means masculinity beach. It's a bit of a local legend. Nobody knows if it's the sand, or the waves, or the location, but anyone who visits the beach who isn't a man will become one. Simple enough. And it affects everyone differently. It could make you a baby faced twenty something, or a retired old man. Or a middle aged DILF, like me." He pointed to himself with a cocky grin.</p><p>"How do you even know all of this?"</p><p>"TikTok."</p><p>"Okay... This is too much to take in..." Louie paced in front of the man claiming to be his son. It didn't make any sense. And yet, all those warning signs told a different story. Then he paused. "Wait... Hang on..." He jabbed an accusatory finger. "You wanted to go to Ōhope Beach. You left all our stuff in the hotel. You made me spend all that money!"<br /></p><p>"Oh, I think he's catching on!" Sean cackled as he slung his arm around Louie's shoulder again. This time, he wasn't rebuffed. "C'mon, I'll explain over a drink. And boy am I gonna need that sunscreen," he added with a chuckle, and a rub of his naked scalp. The two men walked back to the pile of belongings, a grin on one, a frown on the other.<br /></p><p>--------------------</p><p>He had to hurry. His little diversion wasn't going to distract his dad forever. Sean darted through the forested headland until he spotted the warning signs. Tānetanga Beach. He'd first heard about it while trying to find something to do near their hotel. On the weird side of TikTok, he found someone discussing the beach and it's manlying effects. It sounded crazy, and yet after finding more accounts, and even stuff on other parts of the web, he couldn't help but get drawn into the hype. <br /></p><p>Sean ignored the dilapidated signs, and entered the cove. Here, there was hardly anyone. A few men lounged on the sand, or bobbed in the ocean, but no women. And most importantly, nobody under twenty. Sean rubbed his hands together, pleased that his scheme was going to plan. Soon, he'd be just like them.</p><p>"Oi, kid!" A loud, husky man on the cusp of getting a sunburn caught his attention. "Didn't you read the signs?"</p><p>"I sure did!" Sean replied with unbridled enthusiasm. Luckily, the man only shrugged, rolled his eyes, and got back to reading his book, clearly unconcerned. </p><p>Sean jogged further down the beach, dumping his belongings with haste. His feet tingled against the warm sand. "Tingling, check..." He muttered as he tried to recall how to enact the change. He couldn't help but lay and roll down the slight incline towards the ocean, until he splatted into the wet sand. He grinned and rubbed it into his skin. "C'mon, it's gotta work..." He mumbled as that tingling rushed through the rest of his body. A slight, dull pain accompanied the tingles, which only led to him coating himself in more grime. </p><p>Were his feet getting bigger? Was the hair on his arms and legs multiplying? It was hard to tell underneath all that mud. So to finish his makeshift ritual, Sean waded into the cold ocean water. Each step Sean took into the water, he felt a shudder shake through him. When he was approximately chest-deep, he clenched his jaw. "Here goes nothing..." He closed his eyes, held his breath, and ducked underneath the waves, forcing himself to stay under the water as long as he could, until he burst free with a mighty gasp. </p><p>Licking his lips, Sean grimaced and grumbled in a bassy tone, "Ugh, saltwater..." His eyes snapped open. "Wait... Is that my... Holy shit!" He instinctively reached to his face, only to encounter a fuzzy barrier that made his heart leap. He immediately rubbed his cheeks with passionate glee. "It worked... My voice is super gravelly, I have a beard, it actually, really worked!" He felt his face, cradling his sharper jawline. His fingers traced across his rougher skin, and up towards his head, encountering a vast expanse of exposed skin. "Okay, it's not entirely perfect," he grumbled as he rubbed a calloused palm over his bald head. "But only men lose their hair. Manly men. And I'm definitely a man!"<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBU41XKPmornmx-yppy2kx7saUFsmopVWyYJ8M8qsG-gX5HSwi7dYQjj0K74FZONrKL4lt7fF7R1qEnIsWQ-Jzjix3_zxC1LxIUuqa1_dzKbio4mEczDUrJMi-U2-7zaJvpCLPpgYCywQ0ap8pBCIzoZr0vUuEEsvZY1PK1x-2CQBka1UNhgL7aN7Gg/s1024/media_E5_aY8kVEAAJhuM.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBU41XKPmornmx-yppy2kx7saUFsmopVWyYJ8M8qsG-gX5HSwi7dYQjj0K74FZONrKL4lt7fF7R1qEnIsWQ-Jzjix3_zxC1LxIUuqa1_dzKbio4mEczDUrJMi-U2-7zaJvpCLPpgYCywQ0ap8pBCIzoZr0vUuEEsvZY1PK1x-2CQBka1UNhgL7aN7Gg/w480-h640/media_E5_aY8kVEAAJhuM.jpg" width="480" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sean waded out of the deep ocean water, his eyes wide as his thick, hairy body came into view. Heavy pecs topped his wide torso, curls of wet body hair clung to his skin. As he reached shore, it became apparent his trunks didn't survive the trip. It took all of his effort not to reach down and stroke his hardening cock. The beach was almost deserted, and it's not like the few men present were looking at him, right? He grasped his cock, his breath catching in his throat. It felt warm within his grasp, and throbbed needily. But it could wait. He had the entire vacation to find a more suitable time to explore his body. For now, he needed something to wear.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thankfully he had prepared for this embarrassment. Sean rushed back to his belongings, and dug out a pair of his dad's trunks, along with his phone. He immediately switched to the camera so he could marvel at his manly appearance. "Damn, I look old," he growled in a husky tone that did nothing to hide his excitement. "I'm even older than Dad now. But man, do I pull it off!" He couldn't help but smile, wrinkles stretching from his eyes, and denting his large forehead. Now all he had to do was wait for his dad to come along. He was going to be so surprised.</div><p></p><p>--------------------</p><p>"And you're caught up!" Sean chuckled as he reached into the bag of goods for another cold drink. "Ahh, this is fun. We're gonna have an awesome vacation now that I'm basically your cool, older brother. We can try surfing, or kayaking, or whale watching, or-"</p><p>"Hang on!" Louie growled in irritation. "You can't just tell me you deliberately made yourself a man, and then act like we're buddies. I mean, older brother? Really?"</p><p>"Yeah! I mean, look at me. I've got to have a decade on you, at least. It'd be weird if we were friends. Even weirder if we were lovers."</p><p>Louie grimaced at the thought, but Sean was right about one thing. From his balding dome, to his greying beard, he appeared to be somewhere in his forties, nearing his fifties. Not that the older man seemed to mind. In fact, he looked quite pleased. "And you're okay with that?" Louie asked with a gulp. "Being older than me, I mean."<br /></p><p>"Why wouldn't I be? I'm brawny, and hairy, and oh so manly. I'll probably have to invest in a decent hat collection, but other than that, I have no regrets!"<br /></p><p>"But what about home? All our friends and family? You won't even be able to leave New Zealand without a proper passport, and I can't just leave you here without any money, or somewhere to live..."<br /></p><p>"Eh, that's a problem for next week..." Sean gulped down his cola in an instant, and belched. "For now, let's just enjoy the fact I'm old enough to drink, and call it a day! There's supposed to be a decent Irish pub not too far from here..."</p><p>Louie scrunched his face in frustration. It was just like Sean to do something so impulsive, then try to ignore the consequences until it was too late. Which left no more doubt that this bearish man several years older than himself was truly his son. He looked out to the waves, and sighed. Maybe they should have stayed in Auckland instead.</p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-13953128861323957022022-12-29T17:13:00.001-08:002022-12-29T17:13:10.311-08:00The Christmas Spirit<p><span style="font-size: medium;">A merry belated Christmas, everyone! And a happy early New Year! To celebrate, here's a very special, Christmassy TF story for you all. A collaboration with the wonderful <a href="https://visceral-stories.tumblr.com/">visceral-stories</a>, who has so graciously teamed up with me to write this story full of festive cheer! Do go <a href="https://ko-fi.com/visceralstories">give him your support</a>. And, hey, maybe<a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/AgingTime"> throw me a bone</a> too. 😉</span></p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://visceral-stories.tumblr.com/post/705021096367456256/the-christmas-spirit"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT</span></b></a><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">It's nearly Christmas, and all Trevor wants is to ruin the holidays for everyone in his home of Mistletoe Valley. After his gang of destined high school drop-outs cause a ruckus at the mall, Trevor happens upon a golden invitation offering him the opportunity to escape his delinquent life, and begin a new one as the greatest festive icon of all. But will he take it? It appears he has no choice in the matter!</span></i><b><br /></b></p><p><br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-59551513131264521932022-12-19T18:37:00.001-08:002022-12-19T18:37:24.901-08:00Better Treatment<p>Scott grunted as he pushed a lawnmower around his neighbor's yard. It was freezing outside, and there was still frost on the ground. Yet even though he couldn't see over the handles, he persisted. He knew he hadn't been the best boy this year, but even this wasn't worth getting into Santa's good books. He grumbled, recalling how Mr. Drummer suggested to his mom that he could do good deeds around his house to appease those watchful elves that reported on his daily doings. Scott knew the grump only wanted some free labor, for him to do the stuff he didn't want to. But he couldn't back down now. They were so close to Christmas, he could make it on the nice list, and get that Lego set he'd been dreaming of.<br /></p><p>Speak of the devil, Drummer came out from the house wearing a bulky overcoat that clung to his belly, and a knitted hat atop his bald cranium. He stopped at the border between grass and pavement, and shook his head with a tut. "You won't be finished by sundown at this rate."<br /></p><p>"Couldn't I have a break? My back is killing me..."</p><p>"Wait until you're my age, then we can talk about backs," Drummer grumbled back. "You wouldn't complain so much if you did your own chores at home. Now you know how your poor mother feels."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah..." Scott gave another push of the lawnmower, the motor vibrations shuddering up his arms. "But surely this could have waited until after Christmas? I can barely push the thing..."<br /></p><p>"Ah, quit whining!" As Scott came closer, Drummer proceeded to pull a Santa hat from inside his coat, and hastily shoved it onto the boy's head. "There we go, may as well be festive while you're out here. When you're done with the lawn, I'll find you something warmer to do. Cleaning the stove, maybe..." He wandered back to the house with a cackle.</p><p>Scott groaned. His neighbor was deliberately making this tough for him. They weren't exactly on good terms after he knocked a tennis ball into his greenhouse, but this was too far. He sighed. "I wish Mr. Drummer would treat me better..." But that was as likely as catching Santa in the act. After a moment of self-pity, he got back to mowing the lawn.<br /><span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>After a few minutes, Scott was finding it easier to handle the lawnmower. Maybe it was his imagination, but he could suddenly see where he was guiding the machine, as if the handle had shrunk. Plus, the mower itself felt lighter. It was like he'd had a power boost. Feeling newly motivated, he'd managed to reach the halfway point. He paused to wipe his brow, and huff out a misty sigh. <br /></p><p>Before he could start up again, he suddenly heard someone cry out, "Oh, my poor boy! You look a wreck!" Scott turned to see Mr. Drummer rushing up to him with a blanket. At least, he thought it was Drummer. The man appeared more exuberant than usual. His beard lacked its distinct gray streaks, and his belly no longer strained against his coat. He wrapped Scott in the blanket, and said, "please, do come back inside!"<br /></p><p>Scott cocked his head. "You just told me I couldn't come back in until I finished mowing the lawn." He cleared his throat. Did he sound weird? His voice was deeper, and rougher. It must've been the cold air.<br /></p><p>"Oh, nuts to that," Drummer disregarded with an uncharacteristic swish of a hand. "What matters is keeping you from catching your death out here!"</p><p>While Scott thought his neighbor was being a tad overdramatic, he couldn't say no to a break he desperately needed. He followed the man back into the house, and the smell of cinnamon and chocolate wafted to his nose. He cracked a smile, Mr. Drummer was baking! He did love his treats. Maybe a little too much, he pondered, placing a hand on his stomach. He retracted it immediately upon feeling bare skin. He hadn't noticed while outside, but his shirt had rolled up his stomach, exposing it to the world. Even his jeans felt several sizes too small on him. And even weirder, there were dark hairs poking out around his exposed ankles, and a trail of dark hair leading from his belly button, into his pants. "What the-"</p><p>"Ah, I knew it!" Drummer cried. "Your clothes have shrunk!" Scott felt confused. Could clothes shrink after being outside in the cold? He reasoned that it made sense, coming into the warmth from the cold simply shrunk the fibers. It was that, or he himself had grown bigger. Which was ridiculous. Drummer tutted, and said "Take those off, and I'll find you something else to wear."</p><p>As Drummer left the room, Scott wasted no time stripping off those tight garments, so small that they could have been kids clothes. But he was a kid, wasn't he? Looking down at his bare body, he almost laughed at the thought. He was six feet tall, dark hairs gathered around his broad chest and across his sinewy arms, not to mention the obscene bulge in his underwear, He was a man, for sure. Yet he didn't know why, he felt so insecure as he stood in the kitchen in his undies, clutching the blanket around his torso in an attempt to warm up. It wasn't the first time he'd been in Drummer's kitchen almost nude. Slowly, he allowed himself to relax, shaking out his tough body.<br /></p><p>"Goodness, Scott!" Drummer cried upon seeing the burly man in the kitchen. Scott blushed, he felt like he had to explain his actions, until Drummer added, "Go and sit by the fireplace, where it's warmer! I still need to find the rest of this outfit, and I don't want you catching a cold."</p><p>He did as he was told, stepping into the living room, which was far warmer than the kitchen. He took a spot by the fireplace, stretching out his body. He scratched at his hairy chest, then at his short beard. Something felt off, but he couldn't quite place what. He allowed a stray hand to slip into his underwear, giving his cock and balls a squeeze, lost in thought.<br /></p><p>Finally, Drummer came into the room holding a bundle of clothes. Scott snatched his hand back, trying to look like he wasn't just fondling his junk. If he noticed, Drummer didn't say anything. "Here you are, my dear." He placed the clothes in Scott's lap with a smile. </p><p>Scott looked up at the man suspiciously. Didn't he use to have a beard? And no hair? But that didn't make sense, he was a young lad with hair thicker than his own. He was pleased to still have any at his age Which was...What again? Still confused, Scott scratched at his own prickly beard, and asked, "Did you change?"</p><p>Drummer looked down at himself, and laughed. "Yeah, I thought I'd get dressed into something more comfortable myself." He tugged on the festive pajamas with a grin. "Plus, I have a little surprise for you!" <br /></p><p>The younger man scurried back into the kitchen, leaving Scott alone to slip on the clothes he was given. A white vest, a pair of red pants with suspenders, and a furry, red coat. He held the coat out, and almost laughed. If he didn't know any better, Drummer was trying to get him to play Santa. Sure, he was a little older than the man. Well, a lot older... His beard was white, his hair almost void of any color. And he was a little on the heftier size. But that didn't mean he was capable of playing the big guy.<br /></p><p>As he thought this, Scott heard Drummer come back into the room, humming Santa Baby. In one hand, he held a glass of milk, the other a plate of those delectable cookies. He turned around, and gasped dramatically. "Santa? In my house!?"</p><p>Scott chuckled, and shook his head. "Now Chris, I don't know if I want to play this game..."</p><p>Chris pouted, and sat down on the floor beside Scott. "Aw, but you'd look so handsome in the suit. Don't you want my milk and cookies?"</p><p>"Well, I wouldn't say no..."</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKUXrN6Wslz80pMMlPsNNR9daCuGuCcAKawOlL6QtscsJ2_BBZS1IJBgKSIW_6EWMUAWBKpkEPpypVxww6AKF-jRWOQu2K8jTMj1R0i0Fq5FxlRwVAhiXNinK2o3tfnwkRJi_pms2JFj0w4rq-XhxlDu9dAF848EzXh25-zFkW6apUfypPkxC8A29Cpg/s664/tumblr_oiqzpemfIz1s2wd3ho1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="664" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKUXrN6Wslz80pMMlPsNNR9daCuGuCcAKawOlL6QtscsJ2_BBZS1IJBgKSIW_6EWMUAWBKpkEPpypVxww6AKF-jRWOQu2K8jTMj1R0i0Fq5FxlRwVAhiXNinK2o3tfnwkRJi_pms2JFj0w4rq-XhxlDu9dAF848EzXh25-zFkW6apUfypPkxC8A29Cpg/w640-h386/tumblr_oiqzpemfIz1s2wd3ho1_1280.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>He grabbed the milk, and took a sip. It was warmed through, with a hint of vanilla and a hearty punch of liquor. Just the way he liked it, he thought to himself with a smirk.<br /></p><p>"Don't forget the cookies," Chris added, handing out the plate to the older man, who wiggled his fingers over the plate before nabbing the cookie studded with the most chocolate chips. Chris smiled, and rubbed a soft hand up Scott's furry arm, resting it on his shoulder with a loving grip. "I made them especially for you, Santa."<br /></p><p>"Could you stop it with the Santa act? I'm not that old," Scott grumbled, scattering cookie crumbs as he spoke. He may be gray haired and more than double his companion's age, but he was still under sixty for another couple of years. He grabbed the hat off of his head, and rammed it onto his neighbor's head as if to prove a point.<br /></p><p>Chris sighed. "I wish you'd at least play along."</p><p>"I'm not really the role-playing kinda..." Scott paused as he swallowed his cookie. "Damn, that's good..."</p><p>As Scott reached for another, Chris slapped his hand away. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said curtly. "These cookies are for Santa, and Santa only."</p><p>Scott eyed the plate lined with those golden, perfectly baked chocolate chip cookies. His stomach grumbled at the sight. He licked his lips, sighed, and grumbled. "Ho ho ho..."</p><p>"Say it like you mean it."</p><p>"Ho! Ho! Ho!" Scott boomed, his gravelly voice echoed around the room. With a smile, Chris obliged and handed another cookie to the big man, who eagerly nabbed it.<br /></p><p>"So Santa," Chris cooed, stressing the word in a way that made Scott want to roll his eyes. "Have I been a good boy this year?"</p><p>"You've been a very good boy this year. You certainly know how to treat a man right." As he wiped the crumbs out of his beard, he leaned in closer to Chris and spoke softly, his dulcet tones making the young man shiver. "In fact, you've been so good that Santa's going to give you your gift early." </p><p>"Oh Santa, you shouldn't have!" Chris grinned. He reached down to undo the buttons on his pajamas, revealing his lightly toned, youthful body to his older companion. Likewise, Scott yanked his vest off to show off his brawny, hairy, mature body to his young partner. Each man gazed at the other with a primal urge fuelled by their festive roleplay.<br /></p><p>Scott crouched down to his knees, wincing as he lowered down. "Oh, I'm gonna regret this in the morning..." he mumbled to himself. The things you do for your partner... Then he scooped Chris in for a whole-hearted kiss, his bristly beard scratching against the young man's chin. He continued to smooch his lover while Chris' hands roamed around his tough body, cupping his hairy chest, and his soft belly. </p><p>"Mmm," Chris moaned, tugging on Scott's red pants. "I need your present right now, Santa!"<br /></p><p>"Okay, Okay!" Scott growled, trying to do the buttons. "But first, gimme another cookie."<br /></p><p>"Seriously?"<br /></p><p>"Santa's gonna need all the fuel he can get if you want your present to last through the night!"<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcGfwI6UAVAEeQxcUnbl2SZyhEs3xMPNdwdNNV5QU2xruFVVPX0a5M5jfHdYJanJdDSxqkCHEqb1dUS0mHyWSbJ_fQC0g3rLOL2nsd6heso8EV0dtFe7tD47joawjxsVRHZq3NVAivd501bhTJTXFb2NcdWQ59XUYkjUju_M6211DJNVvmDU9va2vpw/s1600/navidad%20%C2%A1asd%20'.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1065" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcGfwI6UAVAEeQxcUnbl2SZyhEs3xMPNdwdNNV5QU2xruFVVPX0a5M5jfHdYJanJdDSxqkCHEqb1dUS0mHyWSbJ_fQC0g3rLOL2nsd6heso8EV0dtFe7tD47joawjxsVRHZq3NVAivd501bhTJTXFb2NcdWQ59XUYkjUju_M6211DJNVvmDU9va2vpw/w426-h640/navidad%20%C2%A1asd%20'.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-66006109154070189842022-12-13T17:51:00.000-08:002022-12-13T17:51:04.454-08:00Proof<p>I can't believe I've been grounded! So Mom caught me smoking one little cigarette, what's the big deal? S'not like I do it all the time. That she knows... Besides, it was all Tony's fault! He was the one who gave it to me in the first place. But he doesn't get in trouble, I do... And who cares if I smoke? Mom says it's a nasty habit, and can ruin your life. But lots of people do it every day, and they're just fine. Plus, Grandpa smokes! And he's healthier than all the other old people I've met. If only I could prove that Mom's acting all protective for no reason, then maybe I can get ungrounded...<br /></p><p>It's a good thing I have this hat. Brett says that these promotional Santa hats everyone's been getting have some sorta weird power in them. He says that he wished for better grades at school, and now he's the smartest kid in class! Sure, he always was a genius, but I s'pose it changes other peoples' memories too? At least, that's what it sounded like when he explained it to me. And he's the brainiest guy I know, so it's gotta be true! </p><p>I stuck the Santa hat on my head, and sighed. This better work... I thought through exactly what I wanted, and after a few minutes, I said out loud, "I wish I could prove I'll live a long life even if I smoke..." I waited, hoping that maybe some useful evidence or knowledge would suddenly come to me. But nothing. I can't believe I actually thought Brett was telling the truth. I feel so stupid...<br /></p><p>I slammed a fist onto my bedside table, only for the drawer to slide open. Weird, it's never done that before. As I was about to close it, I noticed something inside. I reached in, and pulled out some weird looking log. I gave it a smell, and recognized the tobacco. Of course, it's a cigar! But I never put a cigar in there. And I don't know anyone who smokes them. Even Grandpa sticks to his fancy pipes. Still, it's pretty cool to have around. I put the cigar between my teeth, and was surprised as it automatically lit itself. Then I knew. This was exactly what I needed. If I want to prove I'll live a long life, then that's what I'll have to do. The magic hat was working!<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>Even now, as smoke billowed from the cigar, and my eager mouth, I could feel its power flowing through me. Helping to push myself forward in time. My mom thinks that smoking at a young age can stunt your growth? Well, look at me now! I'm practically growing like a weed. I'm getting so much taller, my clothes don't even fit me! I rip them off, chuckling as I tossed them to the ground. It gave me a better look at my growing body. Check out all this muscle I'm putting on, smoking sure hasn't stopped me from bulking up. Giving me solid abs, and a nice pair of pecs. Haha, and it definitely hasn't affected my body hair either. I'm getting so hairy, I'm almost like an animal! Even my beard is coming in nicely, I can't believe it's grown so much. It's already covered my whole face, and it's so thick. I can grow a pretty mean beard. It feels so soft...<br /></p><p>I took the cigar out of my mouth, and held it aside. I stroked my hairy body with a grin. This is awesome, not only do I have the satisfaction of being proved right, but I get to enjoy being a grown man! I'm sure this was proof enough that smoking was that bad for you. I'm taller than my dad, and much more muscular too! It didn't stunt my growth in the slightest, and I've made it out of puberty coming out on top. Yet something was nagging at me. This wasn't enough. Sure, I proved I wouldn't be some little runt, but I still had a long road ahead of me. Plus, I was still young enough to get lectured about my future, and how I should listen to my elders... I need to push forwards even further. While it's nice to be a handsome, young man, I can't stay that way. It'd be a waste of a perfectly good cigar...</p><p></p><p>I get it, smoking can do nasty things to a guy. But so does over-eating, so does caffeine, and alcohol, and so much other shit. And then the act of growing older brings its own problems. Your metabolism slows down, which means more time spent trying to keep in shape. Something I don't have, clearly, as my abs quickly disappear underneath a slab of growing flab. And sometimes, genetics have a cruel card to play. Even now, I can feel my hairline slipping back beneath my hat, leaving me with less hair up top than I have down below.
Which sucks, I love my hair. But sometimes you have to make
sacrifices... At least the amount of body hair I have elsewhere makes up for that. It's growing like a weed all over my skin, even giving my back its own generous coating. </p><p>Maybe this'll be enough. I'm a perfectly average middle-aged guy now. I'm even older than the both of them by a few years. A little overweight due to my healthy appetite, but otherwise okay. What more proof do they need? I dig around in the cabinet next to me, and pull out a bottle of beer, cracking the cap open on the side of the cabinet. Ahh, I needed a good drink after all that. Growing up is hard work, after all. I wipe my mouth clear, feeling my soft beard underneath my hand. It's getting a little gray, but that's what happens when you reach my age. And how I wish I could stop here, comfortable in middle-age. But there's still some life in this cigar, and I can't snuff it out just yet. I need all the proof I can get...</p><p>So here goes nothing... I begin smoking once more, feeling myself encroaching into my senior years. But all of those worries about getting old have nothing to do with smoking. My beard is getting ever more white, until I look like a stern Santa, with the hat and all. And my face is getting ever more laden with crows feet, and bags. Smoking doesn't give you wrinkles, of course. It's just something that happens as you grow old, and your skin begins to sag. Much like my sagging belly and pecs. They used to be so tight, and now they droop atop another. Getting old does that to a man. I can't keep active as much, thanks to my weakening joints making it more difficult to get around. Plus, I don't shy away from all those sweet treats, each delicacy only adding more to my belly. Then all that extra weight I've put on only aggravates my knees and back even more. These old bones aren't getting any younger, you know! Besides, it's not like smoking makes you prematurely age, it... Well... You got me there... If anything, that's all that smoking has done to me! But it's for a good cause. If entering retirement is what it'll take to prove that it's not some death sentence, then that's what I have to do! </p><p>My cigar finally reached the end of its tether, I couldn't get any more out of it. I snuffed it out in an ashtray on the table and grunted with satisfaction. If they wanted proof, well I was living proof right here! Look at me, I'm old as fuck! I've literally smoked my entire life, and I'm in pretty damned good condition for a seventy-year-old. I may be a big-bellied, white bearded, bald motherfucker, but I'm still sharp as a tack! In fact, I think I'll have another cigar to celebrate.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQN7D8Otot-sND6MCPufG-w5Wjb3RSUc1IJwJmUjw9rn63B9BIaPw77OfSoYaWOFoW7iEqOw1SV2U0p3Mn-WAPVPYxUsdFwgJGoZDcYwZ9hcWRQ4y3Uo24ilNKsx0Uh3IjMmTk9-ObvnrVv5Wi51rkKJjZNYs8fKFDAVuKtMIWonDZm5QOb9uDL-T-gw/s960/tumblr_p1e7ph3Z2E1u15rhzo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQN7D8Otot-sND6MCPufG-w5Wjb3RSUc1IJwJmUjw9rn63B9BIaPw77OfSoYaWOFoW7iEqOw1SV2U0p3Mn-WAPVPYxUsdFwgJGoZDcYwZ9hcWRQ4y3Uo24ilNKsx0Uh3IjMmTk9-ObvnrVv5Wi51rkKJjZNYs8fKFDAVuKtMIWonDZm5QOb9uDL-T-gw/w480-h640/tumblr_p1e7ph3Z2E1u15rhzo1_1280.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>As I grabbed another one and took a sip of my beer, there was a knock at the door. And then in they came, the two freeloaders...<br /><p></p><p>"Jesus Christ! I thought we told you not to smoke in here anymore!"</p><p>"And I thought I told you that I can do as I damned well please..." I growled, clearly not pleased to see them.<br /></p><p>"Don't you think it's time to give it up? I mean, you're not exactly a young man any longer."</p><p>I smirked. If only she knew... "I've been smoking since I was just a lad, and it ain't done me no harm one bit. Now I'm an old man, so I think I earned the right to do as I want in my own house."</p><p>"But you're not the only one who lives here, you know," she fumed. She crossed her arms, and held her nose high, all snooty-like. "It'd be alright if you stuck to smoking outside, but you don't. I can't stand the stench, it permeates through everything!"<br /></p><p>"If it bothers you so much, you don't have to live here! You're lucky that I'm letting you rent the place for so cheap." I held my head high in defiance, jutting my jaw forward. Although with my beard, it wasn't as noticeable.<br /></p><p>She tried to argue once more, but her man put an arm on her shoulder. "Forget it, there's no arguing with him. He's just a stubborn mule." He pulled her in close, and whispered, "if he wants an earlier grave, we can't stop him. Besides, I've been doing some apartment hunting, and found..."<br /></p><p>He continued to speak quietly as they both left the room, and closed the door behind them. I could almost cackle with glee. Yeah, that's right. Walk away. I sure showed them! I'm not some impressionable little kid any longer, I'm a fucking old man! An old man who can smoke whenever he wants to, goddammit! I have the ultimate seniority, and I'm gonna use it to smoke 'til the day I keel over! Mmm, it feels good to be right. It feels good being retirement age. Heh, retirement. I'm so fuckin' old, man... I stroke my flabby, hirsute body with a satisfied grin. Then I stick a hand down my pants, and sigh. Yup, no regrets here. A guy could get used to this...<br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-22217990723526470642022-12-02T18:46:00.003-08:002022-12-02T18:46:45.069-08:00License To Drink<p>"Come oooon, dad! Just one drink?"</p><p>"Absolutely not!"</p><p>"But it's Christmas!"</p><p>"Not for another 3 weeks, it's not. Not like that would make a difference..." <br /></p><p>Max sulked as his dad walked off to greet another couple who had just knocked at the door. He was almost 16, he was practically an adult. It's not like he'd never tried beer before, so why did it matter if he had a little drink? It was a party! It wasn't even a cool party, just a gathering of some people his parents knew. None of his friends were allowed to come. At least alcohol would make things interesting...</p><p>Max knocked the white bobble on his Santa hat out of his face, and grumbled to himself. "I wish I could drink alcohol without getting into trouble..."</p><p>He slunk into the kitchen, preparing to grab a plate of finger food before retreating to his bedroom for the evening, when he stumbled into his uncle Jack, who had a sly grin on his face. "I overheard your little tiff with your pa."</p><p>"Yeah, so?" Max griped. He didn't want to talk to anyone else. Jack tapped his nose, then suddenly produced a bottle of beer from behind his back. Max's eyes lit up, as he snatched it from his uncle's hands. "O-M-G, you wouldn't!"</p><p>Jack shrugged his shoulders. "It's a teen's nature to rebel, and who am I to deny nature?" He reasoned as he took the bottle back, pouring the amber contents into a plastic red cup. "Don't worry, I'll keep your ol' pa occupied."</p><p>Max was bubbling with excitement as he took the cup from his uncle. "Thank you! You're the coolest!" Jack merely put a finger to his lips, then strutted into the main party room, straight up to his younger brother. Max ducked further into the kitchen, and took a moment to appreciate his alcoholic gift before taking a gulp from the cup. It burned the back of his throat, and sent a shiver down his spine. He'd forgotten how bitter beer could taste. He didn't like it much the first time, and it still left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. But he couldn't pass up his uncle's offering. He braced himself, then gulped down the whole cup in one go.<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>Immediately, Max felt light-headed. Maybe he shouldn't have done that, he briefly thought. His whole body felt tight. Was beer supposed to make you feel so achy? He rolled his shoulders, and arched his back in an attempt to stretch out the unusual dull pains ringing throughout his body. After a moment, the feeling passed. Except, now Max could only focus on how tight his clothes felt. He tugged on his shirt with a frown. The hem barely reached his jean waistband, which itself dug into his hips. He undid his belt, loosening it by a couple of notches with a frown. They must have shrunk in the wash. Maybe he could find a replacement in his room. But then he'd be missing the party...<br /></p><p>Against his better judgement, Max waded into the lounge and through the party guests, nodding and saying hellos to everyone politely. The thrill of being buzzed led him to the drinks table. He could still taste the beer in his mouth, and he didn't want to. Maybe he could concoct himself another drink. He swept his head back and forth. His dad and Jack were nowhere to be seen. And nobody was paying attention to him, even with his tipsy demeanor, and his too tight shirt that had ridden a couple inches up his stomach to expose his belly button and treasure trail to the other guests. </p><p>Reaching out for a few bottles, Max measured and poured whatever interested him into a metal mixer, shaking its contents with unbridled passion. He poured his concoction into a plastic cup, and took a cautious sip. A smile broke across his face, it actually tasted alright! Who knew he was a master mixologist in the making? Maybe he could make a living out of it... He took small, frequent sips of his cocktail, stumbling away from the drinks table, and into the heart of the party. </p><p>Passing from buzzed to tipsy, Max tried to butt into a few conversations. Yet, his attempts at small talk weren't too successful. It didn't help that he was distracted by a persistent scratch that seemed to linger across his entire body. He rubbed at his shirt, reminded by how painfully small it was, hoping he could alleviate the itch somewhat. Until it spread up to his face like a wildfire. He gulped the rest of his drink, and tossed the cup aside, so he could use both of his hands to scratch. His fingers rubbed against a persistent grit which rapidly gave way to wires, his scratching fingers changing to stroking as he calmly attended to his fluffy beard. Part of him knew it couldn't have appeared out of nowhere, yet his inebriated mind treated it as his own anyway. He tugged and pulled on the ends, kneading out an extra couple inches of fur he could play with. Already forgetting how itchy he'd felt, Max eyed up the drink table once more. Maybe he should have another drink, he reasoned. A white wine would be extra classy, and maybe people would take him more seriously.</p><p>He sauntered up to the table, and just about managed to pour himself a cup without spilling a drop. Yet that was where his luck ended. As soon as he tipped the cup of wine towards his lips, he misjudged how far away his hand was to his mouth, and tipped its contents went down his shirt. "Oh fuck," he mumbled to himself, swinging his arms wildly for some napkins, and narrowly missing party guests in the process. </p><p>The itch returned atop his scalp, as did a bloated feeling in his stomach. Without thinking, Max began fumbling with his shirt buttons as his stomach began to expand. He'd only managed a few before his belly did the rest, and he exhaled in relief. "Well, tha' takes care of tha'," he said, tossing his shirt into a nearby
trash can. It was far too small on him anyway, he didn't understand why
he'd been wearing it. He sighed, scratching at his chest as hundreds of hairs took root across his exposed torso. It felt good to be shirtless, his brawny bod on display. Just as nature intended. The only thing that'd feel better would be a drink in his hand.<br /></p><p>Max was ready to pour another cup when he heard a sharp voice call his name. He spun around, coming face to face with, "Dad? Oh shit..."</p><p>"Dad?" The concerned man questioned, before sniffing the air. "Have you been drinking?"</p><p>Max shook his head violently, but the slur in his voice gave it away. "Nuh-uh! I jus' spilled summin' on me. And 'sides, Jack was th'one who gave me the... the bottle firs'."</p><p>"Jack..." he spat, clenching his jaw tight. </p><p>"Y'aint mad a' me, righ'?" Max whined, as if being scolded.</p><p>"Of course not," He replied, reaching for a pitcher and plastic cup. "But maybe just stick to water for the rest of the night, bud. And maybe grab another shirt."</p><p>"Okay... Fanks Dan..." Max took the water and stumbled away, a little ashamed. He was never usually this much of a lightweight. Gone were the days he could out-drink the patrons in his bar, after all. But after two drinks? He sighed, maybe he couldn't keep up with the best of them anymore, but at least he'd grown into his bearish build. It was certainly easier to tempt in the customers when he had the goods to show off. He patted his soft stomach, maybe some grub would cheer him up.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDnk2cWYGgzPxdti_cvt4Jaou0DTyPNgPYv9_xpZTzv0gO9RaaF_QGHyslCMQVf2yi6EFfG-Lr8nPArD7hw7iqjzOQ2exAQGmvihWLWlRHtG0RRjZy_uBIkKHk52CogBZlY8mtXqcxe9_LzijmKsX80PQCj1OnzEgYUUjnH3H1dI4nr4OqsErSXAGCbw/s640/3009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="488" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDnk2cWYGgzPxdti_cvt4Jaou0DTyPNgPYv9_xpZTzv0gO9RaaF_QGHyslCMQVf2yi6EFfG-Lr8nPArD7hw7iqjzOQ2exAQGmvihWLWlRHtG0RRjZy_uBIkKHk52CogBZlY8mtXqcxe9_LzijmKsX80PQCj1OnzEgYUUjnH3H1dI4nr4OqsErSXAGCbw/w488-h640/3009.jpg" width="488" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As he watched the topless man head for the buffet table, Dan pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved out a long sigh. "Jack!" He snapped just as the goateed man passed him. "You were supposed to be watching out for Max this year, making sure he didn't get into the alcohol. Not bequeathing him a bottle!"</div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;">"Oh Danny boy," he chuckled, giving his brother a hefty slap on the shoulder. "It's not a party until Maxie gets started. It's the best part of the holiday season!"</p><p>"You know he's better at serving up drinks than partaking in them," Dan mumbled. He grabbed Jack by the scruff of his shirt to stop him from leaving, and said in a hushed tone, "You're responsible for any of his antics from now on."<br /></p><p>Jack scoffed, "What am I, his nanny?"<br /></p><p>"I'm not having another Independence Day Fiasco on our hands!"<br /></p><p>"You're still bringing that ancient shit up? He's forty-five, I'm pretty sure he's..." He paused as a few yelps from the party guests drew their attention. "He's trying to take his pants off... Okay, I see your point." He darted over to Max, who was now on the floor, tugging on his belt and complaining about how tight his jeans felt. His festive hat had fallen off of his bald head, kicked underneath the table by the resulting shuffle. <br /></p><p>Dan could only slap a hand to his face, groaning in frustration. "Every year..." He grumbled. Maybe it was time for an intervention...</p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-26178483140348820502022-11-21T15:08:00.005-08:002022-11-21T15:08:56.097-08:00Rough Day<p>Matt had been having a rough day. He forgot his homework was due, getting him detention for the week. Then he lost his lunch money to a faulty vending machine. And to top it off, he tripped on his own shoelaces during gym, face-planting in a pile of mud. He had never felt so humiliated, he was already preparing to have a fake sick day to avoid going back the next day. </p><p>So when he returned home after detention to discover his dad was already home, he was a little suspicious. His dad never left work early. He was in the kitchen, waiting beside two empty mugs. "You okay, little man?" he asked just as the kettle reached a boil.<br /></p><p>"I guess," Matt mumbled as he dumped his backpack and jacket on the floor. "I just had a bad day at school..." </p><p>His dad sighed, and grumbled. "I know the feeling..." He turned around and picked up a mug billowing with hot steam, and passed it to his son. "Maybe a good cup of tea will make you feel better."<br /></p><p>Matt grabbed the mug and gave it a sniff. It smelt sweet and fruity, with a little hint of something smoky. He wasn't much of a tea drinker, or any hot beverage really. But after the day he had had, it was nice to have a little treatment.<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>He took his tea up to his room and sat down. He gave it a precursory sip, the flavor was subtle and warm on the tongue. He approved of it. It wasn't long before he'd drunk the entire cup. And not long after that, he felt peculiar. And very itchy. He'd never felt so itchy in his life. He scratched at his body with a passion, worry flashing across his face. Of course he was having an allergic reaction. Just another thing to add to the list... He'd never had one before, yet it was the only explanation he could conceive. Even now, his entire body felt bloated, like he was outgrowing his clothes. He had to take off his shirt in case it got too tight, followed by his jeans. He didn't want to lose consciousness, after all. <br /></p><p> "Dad!?" He cried out into the hallway. "What was in that tea? I think I'm aller-GIC!" He yelped, and covered his mouth as his voice cracked. "Dad...?" He froze up. His voice was low and gravelly, not the middling, crisp tone he was used to. Then underneath his palm, he felt something shuffling underneath. He yelped again, his voice still comparatively deep, and slapped whatever was on his face. Until he came to realise it wasn't a fuzzy creature, it was facial hair! He could feel the wiry hairs clinging to his cheeks, and bristling around his lips. Giving a slight tug only confirmed its place on his chin.<br /></p><p>Matt sat frozen in fear on the end of the bed. What sort of allergic reaction could give him a beard? He groaned as his body creaked upwards, adding inches to his height, and pounds to his frame. All the while, that incessant itching came ever present as pinpricks of black hair burst free across his arms, and legs, a thick bush rapidly spilling out of his tightening underwear. What was happening to him? </p><p>His thighs had grown so meaty that it felt like his underwear was cutting off circulation. Quickly, Matt ripped them off, and allowed his crotch to breathe. He was surprised at the sight of his lengthening, dangling penis. If we weren't facing such an awful reaction, he might have been excited to be so well endowed. But the thick, black hairs sweeping across his bare body stole most of his attention. They were gathering around his chest now, forming a line down his stomach, and into the wild bushel of hair that surrounded his mighty cock.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2fbuXhSmz5bhKv8NWBmp08-BP-5M_qG1uy0KMAJqTxB3M3yMebEUtPRgTcNLm_DwOnnPxNREtd2XJ9M_PF49fUJOPhpE3FGl1cwZY0cBxw1Hzho4Mu_av2-v1JlIvROhZXHO2z_sRy1xBflOJgnGc9gZDwKrsmKpYO0cbLO2xzASvO-1IxjS1AD7Xw/s1714/cafe%200e%C2%A1w'.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1714" data-original-width="1239" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2fbuXhSmz5bhKv8NWBmp08-BP-5M_qG1uy0KMAJqTxB3M3yMebEUtPRgTcNLm_DwOnnPxNREtd2XJ9M_PF49fUJOPhpE3FGl1cwZY0cBxw1Hzho4Mu_av2-v1JlIvROhZXHO2z_sRy1xBflOJgnGc9gZDwKrsmKpYO0cbLO2xzASvO-1IxjS1AD7Xw/w462-h640/cafe%200e%C2%A1w'.jpg" width="462" /></a></div><p></p><p>And with a final itch across his upper back, it appeared that things were coming to a close. He couldn't believe it, he was so hairy. It was everywhere. Not to mention so big, in more ways than one. As he stared down, dumbstruck by his body, he heard his bedroom door open. He scrambled for a pillow to cover his crotch, as if that was the most important thing he had to hide from his dad. However, his jaw dropped as, lo and behold, in came... Himself?</p><p>No, the teenager at the door looked like his twin, but there were some little differences. The shape of his eyes, the length of his hair. Also, he had a telltale birthmark on his arm, a purple mark that he'd only ever seen on anyone else. "Dad!?" he growled in disbelief.<br /></p><p>"Not anymore, I'm not," the teen said with a cocky grin. "I think you'll find we've had a bit of a role reversal."<br /></p><p>"What does that even mean?" he barked, his deep voice sounded more authoritative than usual. "Why do you look like me? Why am I so hairy?"</p><p>"I look like me when I was your age. If anything, you looked like me... I suppose you still do, in a way. Only, as you say, hairier. I suppose that's your mom's side of the family..."</p><p>"Why are you so calm about this? I'm a frickin' monster!" <br /></p><p>"No you're not, you're a man." His dad sat down on the other side of the bed, and rubbed his hands instinctively. "I'm sorry, Matt, but I gave you that IdentiTEA for a reason..."</p><p>"Identity...?" Matt mulled it over in his mind, until it clicked. Of course, the tea... He knew there was something up with that tea. They never had tea, why would his dad suddenly have tea except for some nefarious purpose.<br /></p><p>"I got it from a specialty shop earlier in the week. If you share a brew between two people, they'll swap lives down to the letter. I've been having a rough time at work, you see. Really rough... I wanted a break from all the gossip, and drama, and overtime. Of course, I wanted to properly explain before giving you the option, but seeing you come home so down in the dumps, I figured you could do with a change as well..."</p><p>"You saw me upset about school, and thought I'd prefer being a man with even more responsibilities?"<br /></p><p>"It was selfish of me, I know... but I wanted to be young again. And we can always swap back. I think... There are more tea bags, after all. They wouldn't sell them in packs otherwise." His dad rubbed at his unruly curls with a sheepish grin, while Matt frowned at the possibility that they could be stuck in their altered lives. "Sooo... I'll leave you to it, huh?"<br /></p><p>His former dad left the room, leaving Matt alone. Despite the bombshell, he actually felt a little relieved. Discovering he'd just become a hirsute man his dad's age was admittedly better than assuming he was going to die from an allergic reaction. Although now he had the small problem of being a single dad in his late thirties with an office job he knew nothing about. At least at school, he was still learning.<br /></p><p>Matt stroked his beard in thought, appreciating how tugging on the soft hairs seemed to calm his mind. He then rubbed his hands through his body hair, trying to get used to the odd phenomena of his fingers tugging on the follicles. It may take a while, he mused, but it did make him feel funny. He could feel himself getting harder, his cock pressing against the pillow covering his crotch. He tossed it aside, and raised an eyebrow. He could worry about tomorrow later. For now, maybe he wanted to live in the moment.</p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-61118078058723727162022-11-13T15:38:00.000-08:002022-11-13T15:38:41.193-08:00Grandfather Clock<p>Tick...Tick...Tick... Greg stared at the grandfather clock with a frown, his arms crossed. The mystery of the clock had consumed him for the entirety of his stay at his grandpa's house. It ticked, which would usually mean it worked. And yet the hands had been stuck at 1:30 all weekend. Whenever he got close, his grandpa would shoo him away, warning him not to get too close. But why did he care? It didn't look fragile or expensive, unlike the other antiques in the room.</p><p>Greg stood in front of the clock, watching the pendulum swing left to right. Its incessant ticking taunting him. It was clearly working, so why was the time completely wrong? He looked at his phone to see that it was many hours out of time. If only he could nudge the hands to the correct time, it might restart and begin working once more. But his grandpa... Thinking on it, he hadn't seen or heard his Grandpa Drew all morning. He slunk through the house, looking for the old man, eventually finding him dozing outside with the morning newspaper resting on his belly. Greg grinned, this was perfect!</p><p>He rushed back to the clock and gingerly placed a finger on the wooden panel. Then his whole hand. Then the other. Greg smiled mischievously. He was touching the grandfather clock and his grandpa wouldn't even know! As long as he kept his grubby fingers to the wood and not the glass, he wouldn't risk leaving a stray fingerprint. Now all he had to do was adjust the time. He reached up on his tiptoes, and pushed against the minute hand to move it backwards. Yet try as he might, it just wouldn't budge. Gingerly, he nudged it forwards, and the hand moved! Doing so made a weird tingle go down his back. He chocked it up to the thrill of doing something against the rules.<span></span></p><a name='more'></a> <p></p><p>Gripping the minute hand tightly, Greg pushed as far as his tip-toes would allow him, managing to get it to 1:50. Then he felt an odd wave of vertigo wash over him. He glanced around. Nothing appeared different. He reached back to the clock face, and paused. Wasn't he just struggling to reach the clock hands? Now it was easy to reach it. He pushed it forward even more, stopping at 2:20 after feeling that same wave of vertigo. It was like the room was shrinking around him. Yet once again, everything was the same. He stared at the clock face, now face to face with it. He shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't a morning guy. He pushed the hand forward even more, now finding it easier to spin.</p><p>After a couple of spins, he let go of the hand at around 4:00. He felt peculiar... There was something strange going on. He stepped away from the clock, and scratched his face. He paused upon feeling a rough, prickly texture under his fingers. But that made sense, he hadn't shaved in a few weeks. Which was normal, right? He rubbed at his arms, also littered with thick hairs that both felt unfamiliar and normal. He tugged on his T-shirt, as if it clung to his body. It didn't feel so tight when he put it on, right? Yet it rubbed uncomfortably against his body. You'd think he'd just grown his chest hair, the way it itched. All these weird feelings, and yet, it was just him. Maybe this was why his uncle told him not to touch the clock. Could it have hallucinogens on it? He shook off the thought with a chuckle, as if that old man would allow that in his household!<br /></p><p>Greg spun the clock hands around until he stopped once more, around 6:30. Everything around him seemed to get blurry. He scratched at his head in confusion, ignorant to the hairs that scattered down in front of his vision. He had been thinning for a few years now, after all. He paused for a moment. He patted at the center of his meaty chest, fingers brushing against curly hairs, until he managed to grip upon something cold and solid. Aha! Of course, he always kept his spectacles tucked into his shirt collar when he wasn't wearing them. He stuck them on his nose, and everything came back into focus. He could see once more! Why he wasn't wearing them in the first place, he couldn't quite understand. Looking down, he was surprised to see a small gut hung over the waistband of his pants. He rubbed it, then smiled. He'd been putting on weight recently, his desk job was taking a toll on him. But he didn't mind, it felt quite nice to have a little bulk in the winter. He lifted a wrist, checking the current time on his wristwatch buried within his arm hair, and nodded. Not much further now. <br /></p><p>After a few more turns of the hand, ignoring the weird feelings throughout his body. The appearance of dull aches in his knees and back couldn't distract him, nor his stomach pushing out against the wooden body of the clock. Finally, he stepped back with a sense of achievement. He finally had the correct time, 9:40am. While he felt accomplished, he also felt a little out of sorts. Greg stumbled back to his armchair and slumped into it with a heavy thud. He felt peculiar. His shirt felt tighter than usual against his belly. He undid the buttons, allowing himself to let go, his large belly pooling out into his lap. He rubbed it with a sigh. He sure had let himself go over the years. This shirt used to fit him perfectly, and now he was close to popping a button. But he had to admit, it felt comforting to rub his soft belly, feeling its heft from decades of overeating and lack of exercise. It seemed like only yesterday, he was a spright, young lad with big dreams for the future. And now, he was a fat, retired old man with a big gut. Where did the time go?<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKrc9ulDziAcABl32yXk6vOXfrO_QWSXo-hu9lxBMz1SZ6_n2FL6jxi0-3E44vPh9LT02pzl1TC1vhejWREYn1sksU28fsAye6GGHpoHKqvNdycZWQJbVhPJVRSNWNZr1ZN1ZGEzeSkaj6E31pEjKNGmmo5sBL8mz9ksyOVopsEAJIt1nH6VtYPhmgA/s960/tumblr_3293a79c4136b9fe47f619a691c019f8_b77c6462_1280.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKrc9ulDziAcABl32yXk6vOXfrO_QWSXo-hu9lxBMz1SZ6_n2FL6jxi0-3E44vPh9LT02pzl1TC1vhejWREYn1sksU28fsAye6GGHpoHKqvNdycZWQJbVhPJVRSNWNZr1ZN1ZGEzeSkaj6E31pEjKNGmmo5sBL8mz9ksyOVopsEAJIt1nH6VtYPhmgA/w480-h640/tumblr_3293a79c4136b9fe47f619a691c019f8_b77c6462_1280.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><p>Greg continued to rub his swollen beach ball of a belly, lost in thought. His fingers traced over the soft hairs that sparsely covered it. A stray grin tugged at his cheeks. He had to have a bigger belly than his brother.</p><p>"Greg!" he heard a cry from across the room. Busted... He looked up to see Andew in the doorway, dumbstruck. "What the hell are you doing?"</p><p>"Uh... Enjoying this morning's breakfast?" he said unconvincingly. He was surprised at the gruff rumble that came from his throat, but that was always his voice, right? He really needed some coffee... <br /></p><p>"You look guilty of something..." Andrew stroked his wobbly chin until his eyes widened. "You touched the clock, didn't you!?"</p><p>"Maybe..." Greg said coyly, only to sigh. "But it was driving me nuts!" He declared. "You really should get someone to take a look at it. Such a fine looking clock shouldn't be mere decoration."</p><p>"I told you, it's not a proper clock!" Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. "It's an enchanted artifact that represents a person's lifespan. By touching the hands, you force your own time forwards. So yeah, it's a pretty big deal!" He stepped towards the clock, and the hands automatically spun backwards, settling at 9:25. He shook his head, and tutted. "If I didn't already know you were my older brother, I'd be shocked. I mean, why would you do such a foolish thing? What was the time before you tampered with it?"<br /></p><p>"Like I could remember that..." Greg muttered. "You know I'm forgetful. My memory's not like it used to be..." He didn't like his younger brother treating him like an idiot. So he was nearly seventy, what did that have to do with a clock? He scratched at his bearded cheeks, and mumbled, "I recall wanting to move the hands backward, as it would have been quicker. But they wouldn't budge."</p><p>Andrew could only groan at the response. His brother was quite clearly not his brother mere moments ago. And yet, he couldn't recall a single thing about who he could have been. Was he his son? His grandson? This was an entirely new development with the clock. He never should have agreed to look after it for his antiquity friend...<br /></p><p>He looked at his brother once more, seeing an old man with a receding hairline, a white beard, and a swollen belly, wondered what would lead someone to willingly get so old. The fact that neither of them could remember their life before the clock made getting to the bottom of things an impossibility. It wasn't like his brother had a bad life, after all. He was happily retired, and in good health despite his rotund appearance. Andrew sighed, and shook his head. "Okay... I'll forgive you for touching the clock this time. But since time can't go backwards, you can't get any younger. And if that clock ever strikes twelve, well... The less said about that, the better. So don't. Touch it. Again!"</p><p>"Okay, I won't!" Greg growled, rolling his eyes. He didn't believe any of that magical bullshit. If it really were some sort of mystic life drainer, surely he would have noticed, right? You don't just become elderly in an instant without remembering something like that. But no, he was the same old man he had been for years. It wasn't like he hated being old. He'd spent years of his work life dreaming of retirement, so having achieved that level of relaxation was wonderful.</p><p>Andrew frowned at his brother's defiance. He was always immature for his age. Or, he assumed he was. For all he knew, he used to be a child before tampering with the clock. It would explain a lot... "If you'll excuse me, I should give my client a call..."<br /></p><p>Greg watched as Andrew slunk out of the room, phone held to his ear as he tried contacting the original owner of the clock, hopefully to get them to repair it. He got out of his chair with a grunt, and turned back to the clock. 9:40. Exactly where he left it. He turned around, making sure his brother wasn't still about, and pushed the hands forward a little more to the new correct time. It wouldn't hurt, right? He felt an odd wave of fatigue wash over him, and immediately reached out for the armchair behind him. He patted along the arm until he managed to clutch his trusty cane, and sighed. Why would he get up without it? Entering his seventies had been hell on his knees, but it was only an inconvenience as long as he had his cane nearby. He tucked his shirt back into his pants, and made his way for the front door. Maybe his brother would have fixed the clock by his next visit. It sure would be nice to see it working again.<br /></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-70532677417617208552022-11-06T18:24:00.001-08:002022-11-06T18:24:26.911-08:00A Tough Decision<p><b><a href="https://agingtime.blogspot.com/2022/09/the-decades-cigar.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">THE DECADES CIGAR</span></a></b></p><p>Ethan was lounging outside, enjoying the warm morning sun, when he heard the patio door open. He opened his eyes, and turned to see Bruno stomp out with a mug of coffee, and proceed to collapse into one of the outdoor sofas with a long sigh.</p><p>"Phew! I'm so glad it's the weekend," Bruno mumbled after taking a sip of coffee. "Who knew that having a job could be so tiring."</p><p>"You're the top executive in your company, how can you be tired?" Ethan questioned accusingly. "All you do is sit at a desk, and hold meetings. Nothing like me..."</p><p>"Hey! I also do other stuff!" Bruno growled, rubbing at the back of his neck, working out a kink. "It's just tougher at my age. Being in your fifties can be such a drag... Not that I'm complaining!"</p><p>"Well, you did make that decision yourself, you know."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah..." Bruno smiled wistfully. "But I could still do with an extra day to relax." Suddenly, he snapped his fingers, his leathery face stretched into a grin. "Hang on, I'm basically the boss! From now on, we're going to have a four day week. It's the future, you know."</p><p>"I don't think that's how-"</p><p>"And there's only one way to celebrate such a momentous decision." He grinned as he leapt to his feet, and reached for a humidor hidden inside of an outdoor cabinet. Inside were a selection of fine cigars.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCugsg8zHR3TyIaozn6LB9bin1znsbBFO61MChmc23u8zX174oxgrK5C4faJu_0MmmmqBuV12NJj90yxgW3mW0TpdLbJvfZMfdFInOpxW7uTiytY9FUqg0iU-8UkzDnmn6x-26TIcbaSI_PwNp3K-WpN3txBcvKSlNybnd_vB1xQEglFDiX-ZmRKrDJg/s1322/189864355_467306341042383_2254602490934703330_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1322" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCugsg8zHR3TyIaozn6LB9bin1znsbBFO61MChmc23u8zX174oxgrK5C4faJu_0MmmmqBuV12NJj90yxgW3mW0TpdLbJvfZMfdFInOpxW7uTiytY9FUqg0iU-8UkzDnmn6x-26TIcbaSI_PwNp3K-WpN3txBcvKSlNybnd_vB1xQEglFDiX-ZmRKrDJg/w522-h640/189864355_467306341042383_2254602490934703330_n.jpg" width="522" /></a></div><p></p><p>He took one from the top, then turned to Ethan and held the box out to him. "Don't think I forgot about you."</p><p>"I don't know if I should, it's not even noon..."</p><p>"C'mon, just one little cigar. I know you want to."<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>--------------------</p><p>"Just one, and you'll understand everything..."</p><p>Ethan looked up to the gruff, middle-aged man who was goading him on. The man who used to be the same age as Ethan until he smoked the enchanted cigars he was pushing onto him. The man who was Ethan's best, and closest friend. And maybe he still could be. All he had to do was smoke the cigars, and join him in maturity.</p><p>He rolled the cigar between his fingers, and licked his lips. It was tempting, jumping straight into adulthood. He could finally be free of his controlling parents, and do the things he wanted to do without fear of upsetting or disappointing anyone. But then he would also have to get a job, and figure out how to live independently. And the men in his family weren't exactly prone to aging gracefully. Everyone over 30 had more hair on their backs than on their heads, and he wasn't exactly eager to join them. He was already shaving his face every other day, and was still a few months shy of his sixteenth birthday. </p><p>Finally, with a bit of hesitation, Ethan made his decision. "I can't," he said with a weary tone, placing the cigar back on the table. "I can't throw away my life so easily. Not without proper support."</p><p>Bruno looked crest-fallen, his rubbery face pulled into a disappointed scowl. He snatched the cigar back, and turned around to pour another glass of whiskey. Finally, he turned back and sighed. "I understand. It's a lot to ask. Just because I knew it was a good decision for me, it doesn't mean you can make the same call."</p><p>"I'm sorry, bud," Ethan said, reaching out to stroke his arm. "You come from money. Your parents probably have 'connections' that would get you a million dollar job with minimal effort. But my family, they wouldn't be so understanding..."</p><p>The two sat in silence for a few minutes, each knowing things between them may never be the same. Eventually, Ethan stood up, ready to say his farewells. With that, Bruno suddenly cried "Wait! Before you leave, I want you to have this." He handed Ethan a wooden box. Inside were a few cigars, each with the Decades branding on it. "In case you change your mind."</p><p>Ethan took the box from him with a quiet thank you, and that was the last they spoke to each other. He tried contacting Bruno, of course. But he didn't show up online, he didn't answer his texts. Ethan even went to his house, and his family kind of brushed off his concerns. They acted as if they didn't have a son, and implied he wasn't good enough for their daughter. Which made his skin crawl a little. It was as if Bruno had vanished off the face of the planet. It was a conundrum.</p><p>Meanwhile, Ethan's life had taken a turn. Without his best friend by his side, he began to struggle at school. His grades were slipping, he couldn't bring himself to keep attending his extracurricular activities, and then classes altogether. Eventually, he was caught red handed vaping in the school restrooms. His parents were fuming, of course. They locked down everything they could. Grounded for a year, no more TV or video games. His internet usage was surveyed harsher than ever. Yet all it did was make Ethan feel more isolated than ever. He found himself spiralling without Bruno there to support him.</p><p>Finally, things came to a head. It was a quiet afternoon, and Ethan came home from school to an empty house. Those brief moments after school were the only time he could be himself without his parents looming over his shoulder. Knowing his time was brief, he ran up to his room, reached for his secret vape cartridge, and brought it to his lips, hoping to get a hit of nicotine to destress. Yet he only received a puff of tangy air. To his dismay, it was empty. With his parents keeping track of his every move, he hadn't had a chance to buy another. </p><p>This was the last straw. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Ethan dropped to his knees, and stuck an arm underneath his bed. He rummaged about for a few moments, until his fingers brushed along solid wood. He yanked his arm back, and held aloft the small humidor Bruno had gifted him all those weeks ago. He opened it, an intoxicating aroma filling his nostrils. There were three cigars, a cutter, and a lighter. He picked one up, studying the brown cylinder with intrigue. All he had to do was smoke it, then he'd be an adult just like Bruno. No more surveillance, no more curfews, no more cages... </p><p>He followed the ritual to proper cigar usage, trying to recall everything Bruno had told him that fateful day. His hand trembled as he held a lighter beneath the cigar clenched between his teeth. He inhaled, doing his best not to breathe too deep. Smoke lingered in his mouth. It wasn't like anything he'd ever tried before. He was a frequent vaper but this was in another league. The flavor was so intense and complex, it was clearly made to be savored. As he exhaled, he felt a little leap in his chest. He was actually doing this, he was going to grow up. Even now, he could feel a tingle throughout his whole body, changing him in ways he was anxious to witness. His clothes felt tighter as he inhaled, his body felt itchier as he exhaled.</p><p>In time, Ethan came to reach the end of his cigar. He stubbed it out on a coaster, taking note of his hands. They were larger, the backs smeared with dark hairs. He smiled at the sight, following his gaze up along his furry arms, and straight to the sleeves of his tight shirt. Without a second thought, he gripped the front of his shirt, and tore it straight off his torso. His eyes widened, Bruno really wasn't kidding. The cigar had added a decade's worth of maturity to his body, and it definitely showed. There were thick, curly hairs all across his beefier chest and flat stomach, even spreading up towards his shoulders. He scratched his face, shocked to discover his sparse, day-old scruff had entirely filled in to cover his lower face with a gritty, sandpaper-like stubble. Ethan jumped to his feet, and ran to a mirror, gaping at the fully grown man before him. With his overly hirsute body, his dense stubble, and his noticeably receding hairline, he looked older than his 26 years, that was certain.</p><p>But having reached that first hurdle, the fear of growing up didn't feel so bad anymore. In fact, Ethan was curious about going further. So he didn't waste any time lighting up another. He sat in silence, aside from the occasional puff of his cigar. He watched as more hairs bloomed across his widening body, his stomach slowly bloating out into a small belly. He tracked the movement of his hairline as it crept further up and over his scalp until only a wreath of hair remained around the sides. He lit up the final cigar, the wispy smoke staining his dense stubble gray. His chest expanded with every breath, his stomach bloating further outwards into a soft ball. Each cigar added another 10 years to him. Each shortened his lifespan and made him more mature.</p><p>With the final cigar stubbed out, Ethan leaned back against his chair. The air was hazy, showing the thirty years of youth that had gone up in smoke. He scratched at his hair-soaked chest, which were beginning to make the transition from dark to white hairs. His pecs jiggled with his scratch, having sagged from age. Then he dragged his hand down to the rounded belly that rested atop his widened lap. It felt warm and soft beneath his calloused grip. But he felt no regret or shame. He was enlightened, bold, free to be the man he could have been weeks ago if he hadn't been so cowardly. He grabbed his phone and took a picture, a genuine smile on his rugged, 46 year old face. He scrolled down to Bruno's name and sent him the photo with a message. "I changed my mind."</p><p>As he rubbed the top of his smooth scalp, thinking about how he'd have to invest in some baseball caps, his eyes fell onto the time. It wouldn't be long until his parents came home. They would arrive to a house that smelled of tobacco, and a half-naked beefy, middle aged man in their son's bedroom. As the realisation of what he'd done to himself began to dawn on him, Ethan heard his phone vibrate. It was an unknown number that left directions to somewhere outside of town. Yet despite the anonymity, he knew who it was.</p><p>There was no time to waste. Ethan ran to his parents' room, and raided his dad's wardrobe for clothes. To his lack of surprise, he was a far bigger man than his dad. Even his largest shirt clung tight to his gut like a second skin. And while his sweatpants thankfully had an elastic waist, they still left very little to the imagination. But it would have to do. In a panic, he scoured the house for anything useful, stuffing it into a travel bag, and bolted out of the back door.</p><p>One Uber ride with a slightly perplexed driver later, and Ethan found himself in front of a modest, modern house. He checked to make sure the address was right, then knocked on the door. Then there he was. Bruno. He'd grown a short beard since they last met, but he still looked as craggy and lively as the day he last saw him. Ethan couldn't help himself, he pulled his older friend into a big bear hug, who squeezed him tight in return before leading him into the house.</p><p>"Why don't we catch up over a cigar or two?"</p><p>-------------------</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIprUox4KIP4WmDwcJmgS48Rskc0gk9Z98K3qJdLhruc9vggY4TXu0ZSXnulzH7PQLWZKf26s2TkFq_kUafFVeJKy-mJivnrZCAcSxa40wp9USxUjRQdj-UviQ9NKLO1lWVXuVsWBh3rVoUW8Lvr7SR06vUas9ghkLt2efIOHdq8SBjYyUk25MNbeKxA/s700/2020-05-11_100923.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="532" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIprUox4KIP4WmDwcJmgS48Rskc0gk9Z98K3qJdLhruc9vggY4TXu0ZSXnulzH7PQLWZKf26s2TkFq_kUafFVeJKy-mJivnrZCAcSxa40wp9USxUjRQdj-UviQ9NKLO1lWVXuVsWBh3rVoUW8Lvr7SR06vUas9ghkLt2efIOHdq8SBjYyUk25MNbeKxA/w486-h640/2020-05-11_100923.jpg" width="486" /></a></div><p>"Ahh, that sure hits the spot..."</p><p></p><p>"And to think you didn't want to join me at first."</p><p>Ethan cracked a smile through his bushy, wiry beard. "I just needed time to reflect on what was best for me." A few months had passed since he'd smoked himself into middle age. Bruno had welcomed him into his house, and back into his life with open arms. While catching up over a whiskey and cigar, he'd come to find his friend had a rocky relationship with his parents. They weren't too pleased with his decision to prematurely age himself into his fifties. They had plans for him, they said. His future was already mapped out. Until they realised his new maturity could be of use to them after all. Within days, he'd been appointed to the board of their company as a promising selection with decades of experience under his belt. None of it was true, of course. But Bruno took it in his stride. He knew he'd become their patsy, but if it allowed him to forge a path of his own with minimal effort, he didn't seem to care.</p><p>As for Ethan, he had no idea how to confront his own parents. He ignored their calls with increasing anxiety until they managed to track him down using his phone's location. The resulting confrontation did not go well, to say the least. After hours of angry yelling and accusations, they essentially disowned him, unable to understand how their controlling demeanor led him to seek out such a drastic change. Yet with his family completely out of the picture, Ethan felt that chip on his shoulder disappear. He didn't have to put up with them any longer. He was finally free! </p><p>Those first few weeks were like the best vacation. Ethan quickly embraced his middle-aged appearance, learning to shave his head, and letting his beard grow wild. He got a whole new wardrobe to suit his burlier body, and wasted no time on the dating scene. And without school or a job, he spent his days relaxing in the sun with a cigar in his lips. But while Bruno was more than accommodating, Ethan didn't want to be a leech. With a bit of help, he'd managed to find work on a construction site. He didn't earn much, and it was rough labor, but it was honest work, and it allowed him to appreciate his newfound maturity even more. And it made it all the more worthwhile coming back to the luxurious house owned by his ultra-rich roommate and best friend. While not everything had gone as planned, they did manage to achieve what they wanted all those months ago. Somewhere they could live and smoke together in peace.</p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-60277121402271945572022-10-30T15:29:00.000-07:002022-10-30T15:29:47.165-07:00Halloween Nostalgia<p>Maria pawed through her purse one last time, ensuring she had everything she needed, followed by an affirmative nod of the head. She looked up to her eldest son, home from college for a week, and beamed. "Thank you for looking after Carlos tonight," she said with a glance over to her youngest, who was engrossed in a battle on his Switch. "Remember to stick to the neighborhood, don't go any further than Maple Avenue, and be home before eight! I don't want you staying out all night. And don't forget to-"</p><p>"Don't worry mom," Gabe interrupted. His mom always worried. "We'll be safe."</p><p>"And Carlos." Maria leaned down to speak quieter. "Thank you for amusing your brother, I know Halloween isn't your favorite."</p><p>"Aha..." Carlos mumbled, keeping his focus on his game.</p><p>"You say it like I'm forcing him to go!" Gabe said with a exaggerated pout. "Now hurry along or you'll be late." He waved his mom goodbye, then ran to the storage cupboard where he'd stored two bags, each containing a costume. The words "Costume Plaza" in big balloon letters adorned each one. He chucked the largest bag to Carlos, who grumbled as he paused his game. Gabe was practically bouncing with energy. "I hope you're ready for a spook-filled night!"</p><p>"You know I'm not." Carlos groaned, taking his bag by the handle. "But you'll never shut up about it if I don't."</p><p>"That's the spirit!" Gabe cheered, watching as his brother slunk towards the stairs. "We should leave within the hour if we don't want to miss the good candy!"</p><p>Carlos stomped upstairs with his bagged costume, clearly unhappy with the situation. As for Gabe, he couldn't wait to try his costume on. He carefully slid the garment out of its bag and gazed upon its beauty. Well, it was a cheap looking Loki costume, the kind made for a kid. But the difference was that this was actually magic. Though, now that he had it in hand, he had to admit that he had his doubts. It was clearly made for a child half his size. What if the claims were bogus? He'd be fifty bucks down with a tattered costume and major humiliation... </p><p>"Well, here goes nothing..." He took his clothes off and began to put this tiny costume on. The first thing he noticed was just how stretchy it was. It actually stretched to fit his entire body, albeit incredibly tight. He felt like if he were to move any part of his body, it would suddenly rip. He waited motionless for a few seconds until he noticed the room expanding around him. He was shrinking! It was like the costume was pulling itself back to its original size, and it was taking him with it. He felt a weird wooshing as he crept closer and closer to the floor. Within minutes, he had become a kid-sized Loki. He couldn't help but marvel at what had happened. He stroked his face, now smooth and lacking his distinctive goatee. He felt energetic and care-free. And most of all, eager to go trick or treating! He just had to make one little arrangement...<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>----------</p><p>Carlos stepped into his bedroom and removed his outfit for the evening from its plastic confines; a gray business suit with a plain white shirt, and a few accessories. He nodded his head in approval, it looked high quality for a rental suit, fashionable even. Especially compared to his usual attire. Yet despite the impressive quality, it didn't appear to be magical at first glance. Carlos sighed, wondering how he managed to get himself caught up in his brother's crazy scheme.</p><p>Since Gabe was in his final year at college, he'd started to feel a tad nostalgic. The realisation that soon he'd be leaving education and starting an actual career was daunting. And nothing dredged up those nostalgic feelings more than Halloween. He used to trick or treat every year until he reached his teens when it was awkward to beg for candy with a bunch of little kids. He tried recreating those bygone days by taking Carlos trick or treating, but his little bro had no Halloween spirit at all. Even the enticing pull of free candy couldn't get him to budge. Then he stumbled across Costume Plaza. He could trick or treat once again! He just needed a chaperone. After relentless badgering, Gabe succeeded in convincing his brother to give it a shot, on the condition that Carlos could pick his own outfit.</p><p>Honestly, the only reason Carlos finally relented was to get to the truth. He had no interest in Halloween at all, especially now he was nearing his teens. but Costume Plaza had been a mysterious enigma to him, ever since it came to town. His friend insisted it was the real deal. He even showed pictures of the time he got a costume for a party he went to earlier in the year. Although there wasn't any way to really prove that busty blond cheerleader really was him. Now was his chance to see what the fuss was about.</p><p>He was pleased to discover that Costume Plaza didn't just sell costumes from comics and fairy-tales. They also sold clothes that were indistinguishable from normal clothes. Which had given him an idea. Gabe wanted him to be a chaperone for the evening, so why not go full adult? </p><p>Putting his doubts aside, Carlos finally stripped out of his own clothes, put on the supposedly magic outfit, and waited. He felt a little foolish, they were clearly made for someone far bigger than he was. He didn't feel any different, aside from the notion that he was dressed in his dad's clothes. Yet before he had the chance to take anything off, he suddenly sprouted a foot taller. He gasped, the sudden vertical lift made his stomach churn. </p><p>His arms wiggled down his shirt sleeves, bursting free with a wiggle of his fingers. He gazed in awe at his broader, veiny paws, noticing the little pinpricks of hair that thickened around his wrists. He had to release the buckle on his belt as his torso widened and his pants shuffled down his waist. Within moments, he'd gone from a pale imitation to a suit tailor made for his body. The finale came as an irritating itch, as thousands of hairs poked through his skin and covered his torso, slightly darkening his otherwise piercing white dress shirt. With it, a short, scruffy beard sprouted across his cheeks, heavier around the chin and under his nose.</p><p>Carlos stared at the man in the mirror, far older and buffer than he'd even been before. He was dumbstruck, he even unbuttoned his shirt to see if he'd changed completely. Judging by the abundance of dark hair, and impressively built muscles, he was a man through and through. A tiny smile cracked his lips. He couldn't believe it, it was all real! Then the realisation hit him. He'd transformed into an actual adult, who was incredibly handsome if he did say so himself, and he'd foolishly agreed to chaperone his brother for the night! Now that he knew of the costume's awesome power, ideas sprung into his mind for next time. And there would be a next time. He could go into town, maybe visit a bar or a nightclub. Or he could find a way to get closer to Gerard, and hang out with him, man to man... He blushed as he felt a pressure within in his pants at the thought of the bearish neighbor. Maybe if he rushed Gabe around town, they could be home early, and he wouldn't have to wait. Gerard was only a few doors down, after all...</p><p>----------</p><p>Gabe sat on the sofa, eagerly waiting for Carlos to come down the stairs. Finally, He heard that familiar stair stomp, now significantly heavier than it once was. He spun around on the sofa and got a good glimpse of his baby brother, who was not such a baby any longer. He'd grown into quite the attractive man. Gabe could tell that Carlos wanted to burst out laughing at his shrunken form, but he managed to stifle his laughter and spit out, "looks like you're ready to go."</p><p>"Almost, I've just got to grab a bag." While Gabe went looking for something to hold his candy, Carlos stood by the door, and fiddled with the various rings that came with his costume. He was raring to get things over and done with, so he could get more acquainted with his older form. As Gabe picked through a basket of shopping bags, he said aloud, "when you said you were just going to be some normal guy, I didn't expect this. You look very... formal..."</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhosYFgHl05Tgw12q-mzmGsUYemjNUIrK-NeefBNGTZkfISCX_8oFs94RjZ9ZMThrpa8kLViPWT8EXKLMX39VuWnz-TvymLNMlcYRnAytCZSUzhIZE2M5DVG953ZMa1AZlN0BAVVRED4qQgdm396g2iZJrXq7qU_Ob5nj-JiZGgQrwBjh1G9ISo5OEVyw/s1394/tumblr_06caba2a35070a188824c2d0a7f47228_7226fab9_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1394" data-original-width="1125" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhosYFgHl05Tgw12q-mzmGsUYemjNUIrK-NeefBNGTZkfISCX_8oFs94RjZ9ZMThrpa8kLViPWT8EXKLMX39VuWnz-TvymLNMlcYRnAytCZSUzhIZE2M5DVG953ZMa1AZlN0BAVVRED4qQgdm396g2iZJrXq7qU_Ob5nj-JiZGgQrwBjh1G9ISo5OEVyw/w516-h640/tumblr_06caba2a35070a188824c2d0a7f47228_7226fab9_1280.jpg" width="516" /></a></div><p>Carlos sighed. "Look, Halloween is your thing. But if I had to join your weird trick or treating scheme, I figured I'd at least look stylish."</p><p>"Well you'll definitely stand out amongst the others in a suit like that." Gabe stared up at the man, and cocked his head with a perplexed look. "So was this intentional, 'cause you look older than me..."</p><p>"I thought it'd make more sense if we looked like father and son," Carlos said, scratching the back of his head, a little self-conscious. Why, is it too much?"</p><p>Gabe shook his head. "No, you look younger than dad. But maybe show a little less skin..."</p><p>"I just wanted to look a bit more mature," he muttered, and ran a few fingers through his chest hair, before relenting and rebuttoning his shirt. He mumbled under his breath, "I bet Gerard would think I looked cool..."</p><p>"You mean the big guy at the end of the street? With the pottery studio?"</p><p>"He does more than pottery," Carlos replied. "He has this whole room filled with vases, and sculptures, and stuff. He's nice, he lets me stay at his place if I get home from school before anyone else does, and he lets me use the potter's wheel sometimes. He's really cool." He thought about the last time he visited, how the man offered him a quick sculpting lesson. His broad, manly hands delicately guiding his own around the clay, his soft belly occasionally bumping against his back. His cheeks flushed red at the memory, his rugged features softening for just a moment.</p><p>"Oooh, now I get it," Gabe piped up as a knowing smile flashed across his lips. "Somebody has a crush!"</p><p>"What? No, shut up!" Carlos snapped back defensively. "He's just the coolest guy in town, and he has some awesome tattoos, and a nice beard, and he's really big, and did you know he drives a motorcycle? And has a sword collection? And he has a chilli pepper garden! God, he's so awesome..."</p><p>"You know, we could always stop by his house last, and I could leave you two alone..." </p><p>Gabe made a smoochy face, and Carlos pushed him away with a scowl. "Stop it! He's a smart man, he'd see right through my costume."</p><p>"Well I heard if you take the costume off before time's up, you get to stay that way forever. I'm sure Mom wouldn't mind another big, strong man to help around the house now that Dad's gone. And you'd be there too."</p><p>There was a knock at the door. Carlos sighed, burying his face in his hands, hoping his bright red face would vanish. Then he jabbed a finger at his brother. "You stop that," he growled, before heading to the front door. </p><p>"Trick or treat!" A few boys screamed as he opened the door. There was a mini Black Panther, a little Captain America, and a tiny Shang-Chi .</p><p>Carlos rubbed the back of his neck, and muttered "Sorry, we were just about to leave ourselves..."</p><p>The boy in front looked passed Carlos and his face lit up. "Gabe!? Holy shit!" The group barged past an already disgruntled Carlos and surrounded their fellow kid.</p><p>"Why'd you pick Loki, I thought we were all gonna be heroes!"</p><p>"Well he's an anti-hero now."</p><p>"The TV shows don't count..."</p><p>"If I'd known, I would have gone as Thor!"</p><p>"Grr... Gabe!" Carlos bellowed, loud enough to grab the kid's attention again. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, then growled "what's going on here? How do you know these kids?"</p><p>"Well I may have mentioned my costume idea to a few guys at college and, well, here we are!" They all high fived, eager for candy.</p><p>"Woah now, you only said it'd be us two. There was no mention of other kid adults...adult kids...? Whatever this is supposed to be! It's bad enough you roped me into your weird little roleplay, but I'm not a daycare center!" </p><p>"But we're only kids mister P" one whimpered.</p><p>"No! Don't call me mister, it's-"</p><p>"We can't twick or tweat by ourselves, we're too widdle..."</p><p>"You're in college! If anything, I should-"</p><p>"We just wanna get candy. Pwease?"</p><p>The kids stared puppy dogs eyes at Carlos until he groaned and whined "Fine, fine! This may as well happen... Let's just leave before some actual trick or treaters arrive."</p><p>The mini heroes cheered, and headed towards the open door. But before Gabe could follow, Carlos grabbed him by the cape. "You owe me big time for this," he growled with a menacing snarl.</p><p>"Oh, don't worry," Gabe replied with a suspicious grin. "You'll be enjoying an exclusive private lesson with Pottery Guy by the end of the night, if I can help it."</p><p>Carlos released Gabe, and stuttered, "no, you're not doing that! I don't want you messing things up with him!" He watched as his brother darted off to his friends, and sighed. This was going to be a disaster in the making...</p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-11963783070164984622022-10-23T16:00:00.004-07:002022-10-23T16:04:28.487-07:00One More Round<p>"fuck ur one hot dilf... i'd fcukin kll to b tat sexy at ur age. wanna get toggether some time??? i got a hard dock wiht ur nmae on it"</p><p>That was the message Isaac had sent while drunk last night, along with several embarrassing, innuendo-laden emojis. He couldn't stop cringing when he reread it the following morning. He had to stop drunk chatting up guys on his dating apps. He was barely able to type, and always came off as horny. Usually it led to nothing but being ghosted by potential hook-ups. Yet somehow, his drunk forwardness had brought him some luck. The DILF in question, a hunk by the name of AbrahamHarker1704, contacted him back.</p><p>"I would love to. See you tonite, handsome."</p><p>Since then, he'd been waiting impatiently all day. What if he was a catfish? What if he wasn't interested? What if he bailed? Finally, the doorbell rang. Isaac made a last minute mirror check, smoothing down his unruly curls, and straightening his shirt, before opening the door. He couldn't help but gasp as he saw the man on the other side. He really was a DILF. Stark silver hair, short scruff across his lantern jaw, and a beefy body just bursting out of his clothes. His bare arms were coated with silvery hairs, and the curls of chest hair peeking out from his shirt collar made him swoon.</p><p>"Hey there. You are Isaac, right?"</p><p>Isaac blushed, he realised he was simply staring. "Sorry, yes, hi. I guess I forgot how stunning you looked..."</p><p>"I've been told I have an alluring presence from time to time." He flashed a beautiful smile, and Isaac could have melted. The two stared until Abe coughed, and gestured inwards. "So... Can I come in?"</p><p>Isaac blushed once more, and stepped aside. "Of course, yeah!"</p><p>As Isaac closed the door behind him, he felt the man tug on his shoulder, spinning him around, and planting his lips directly on his own. Abe leaned back with a cheeky grin. "Mmm, you taste as good as I hoped you would..."<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>"Thank you?" Isaac chuckled at the peculiar compliment. They kissed once more, side-stepping into the lounge before falling onto the sofa. Almost immediately, the man began unbuckling Isaac's belt. "Oh, we're just jumping straight in, huh?"</p><p>"Of course we are," Abe grunted as he attempted to yank the younger man's pants free. "I've been craving your sweet, young flesh since last night. I'm not waiting to get a better taste of you..."</p><p>"Weird way to put it..." Isaac muttered to himself as he helped yank his pants to his ankles. Despite the weird reaction, he was still rock hard and eager to please.</p><p>"Mmm, gorgeous... I can't wait to sink my teeth into that juicy meat."</p><p>"I'd rather you didn't," Isaac said with a chuckle. He had this banger of a DILF eager to suck him off, and yet he felt apprehensive. Something wasn't right. But before he could say anything, he felt Abe wrap his lips around his cock head, and all his worries managed to disappear.</p><p>The dick game was immense, he hadn't been this expertly blown in his life. Abe's tongue seemed to have a mind of its own, and he knew exactly how to get him going, how to edge him just enough to then go once more. Isaac was in such pleasure, he could barely move. It all came to a heightened climax, so sudden that he didn't even have a chance to pull out. It was such a mind-blowing orgasm that it left him lightheaded. He laid back panting, his eyes closed in bliss.</p><p>"Holy...Fuck..."</p><p>"That good, huh? I do aim to please..."</p><p>"Fuck, I need to catch my breath..." Isaac opened his eyes and looked at the smiling man. He seemed to have swallowed all of his cum, not a single white pearl remained. And something else was off. His shiny hair, once almost entirely a piercing white, had gotten duller. Darker, even. And his perfect stubble was darker too. Maybe he had misremembered? He skin looked radiant, he had a glow to him.</p><p>He didn't realise Abraham still had a hand gripped to his cock until he gave it few tugs with a sly smile on his cheeks. "Ready for round 2?"</p><p>Isaac pinched the bridge of his nose. That orgasm had left him feeling tired, but he couldn't say no to that handsome face. He'd already embarrassed himself once with that text, after all. He was at full mast once again. Against his better judgement, he nodded. "Alright, let's go."</p><p>Round two was as intense as the first. He almost didn't want it to end, but it was difficult to keep himself from ejaculating. He didn't last nearly as long as his first time, and yet the sweet release had left him feeling even more lightheaded.</p><p>As he opened his eyes, Isaac's gaze fell once more on Abe, and he gasped. Now he knew something was wrong. Abe's hair was even darker than before. In fact, most of it had turned a rich, chestnut brown. His beefy dad bod had even diminished, his once tight shirt now loose around his belly. The lustrous hairs that poked out from his collar seemed to have reduced in number.</p><p>There had to be an explanation, Isaac thought, as he brought a hand to his head to stable his light-headedness. As his fingertips brushed against his scalp, he froze. His hand encountered smooth skin. He snatched his hand back into view, his gut twisting at the sight. Clumps of his dark hair piled in his palm, with the occasional silver in the mix. "M-My hair..." He managed to mumble, sticking out a shaky hand to his partner.</p><p>Abe seemed nonplussed. "Yes, I suppose that happens when you get older. Damned shame, you have such lovely hair, too. Personally, I was lucky to keep a full head of hair well into my eighties. It's been many a decade since I was close to that age."</p><p>"Your eighties?" Isaac asked, a quiver in his voice. This man couldn't have been any older than fifty just moments earlier. And even now, he looked a full decade younger, at least. "What's happening to me? You? To us?"</p><p>"Let's worry about that later," Abe declared with a smirk before burying his face deep into Isaac's crotch once more. Isaac felt himself tense up as those waves of pleasure rolled over him again. He tried to move, to shove this imposter off of him, yet he was paralysed, unable to even lift a finger. It was like a spell had been placed on him, one born of pleasure and desire. After a couple of minutes, he ejaculated once more, and that overwhelming tiredness hit him once more.</p><p>"That's it... Give into me, let me lap all of your tasty essence right up..."</p><p>"No..." Isaac immediately reached up to his head. His hair was even thinner, and he could feel a large bald patch on the back of his head. He held back a choke, as his eyes began to water. "Who are you..." He managed to gasp. "What are you!?"</p><p>"Oh, I'm as human as anyone else," Abe said in an almost blasé tone. His gruff voice had lightened in tone, now sounding as young as he looked. "I've just lived longer than most. 3 centuries, by my count."</p><p>"But how?"</p><p>"Isn't it obvious? I feast on the vulnerable, the gullible, the overeager... I've been called an incubus, a cambion, even a vampire. But I don't feast on blood, that's far too violent for my tastes. I drain the youth from innocent, young men."</p><p>"You're making me older?"</p><p>"I'm making myself younger. Your own efforts at maturity are a mere side effect. Normally I try to stick to my forties, where I'm in the prime of my life. Or a DILF, as you so delightfully put it. But I fancied a change of pace recently. You can only spend so much time around folks with daddy issues before it starts to get stale. I could head back to college, maybe start a new band, or become one of influencers that are so popular nowadays. Find a new audience of tasty youths to manipulate... Then you fell into my lap with that inane message of yours, and it all fell into place!"</p><p>"But I was drunk! If I knew you'd..."</p><p>"Make you a sexy DILF yourself?" Abe reached over and rubbed at Isaac's head, more hair falling out. "There's some work to be done, but you're certainly getting there. But enough exposition."</p><p>"I don't want to..."</p><p>"I wasn't asking." Before Isaac could stop him, Abe had his cock in his mouth once more. Isaac could only watch in fear, paralysed from the youthening man's powers. Another minute passed, and he came once more, his younger partner eagerly lapping up all of his sticky semen. That overpowering tiredness had weakened him. He could barely muster up a groan as he noticed his once beautiful hair shower down in front of his vision. It was all gone, he could tell. </p><p>He managed to glance down to the man at his side, knowing that he was likely as young as he used to be by now. His hair had regained its beautiful brown coloring, and his stubble looked sparser than before. His shirt looked baggy against his slender frame, the collar hung low against his neck to reveal a chest free of any hair. </p><p>Meanwhile, Isaac managed to muster up the strength to grasp at his head, feeling no hair at all. Just the faint scratch of stubble around the side of his scalp. He wailed in despair at the loss, his curly mop was now a lost memory. Meanwhile, the rest of his body had managed to gain hair. His arms and legs were coated with dark fur mixed with silver. His own weak stubble had managed to fill in across his face with a salt and pepper beard. And underneath his shirt, clinging tight to his burlier build, he could feel more hairs tug against the inside.</p><p>For once, Abe sat back and observed the older man before him. "That wasn't so bad, was it? You've certainly grown into your looks, you look almost as sexy as I did. Your bald head really ties it all together. You'd make a killing on the daddy scene. In fact, I should call you that now. How does it feel, daddy?"</p><p>Isaac whined, and shook his head. "I'm not a daddy!"</p><p>"Well not with that attitude, you're not. Daddy..."</p><p>"Stop it! Stop all of this! Turn me back!"</p><p>"You just don't get it. This is a one-way street, and you're going to have to get used to it. It won't be long until you're my old age. Wouldn't you like that, daddy? You hoped you'd be as sexy as I was. And you're one fine piece of daddy ass already. A few more years will only add to that DILF factor. Come on, just one more go, daddy..."</p><p>Isaac sank back into his seat, his whole body felt heavy. He wanted to move, but his thoughts were foggy. </p><p>"Mmmngh... You can't... I don't..."</p><p>"Oh, but you look so eager. You're so hard right now. I don't want to leave daddy alone."</p><p>"Please... I-I ca-"</p><p>"I heard please!" Abe cooed as he reached once more for Isaac's throbbing dick, his lips delicately parting as Isaac prepared himself. He was too tired to interfere, it was easier to give in. Maybe the kid was right, he would be a great daddy. It wasn't as if he had a choice...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WLTYmeRynWJND5OPVEf5tvA8m2lWHWmaZwix15z0fMPZPeq5AfgOXBCmVDMadw4PuOMCkoFHHK9wBnKV5FojifHg37c4CvsujfqVjxjfjwseI6DlpxZ854U72WP6weQeHTWLKZ50_Gp7L2VQNXenWUKv2qnuJ8AFuRJZK-lxxXrUlvI8elizJVXzwQ/s2500/2503593.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="1667" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WLTYmeRynWJND5OPVEf5tvA8m2lWHWmaZwix15z0fMPZPeq5AfgOXBCmVDMadw4PuOMCkoFHHK9wBnKV5FojifHg37c4CvsujfqVjxjfjwseI6DlpxZ854U72WP6weQeHTWLKZ50_Gp7L2VQNXenWUKv2qnuJ8AFuRJZK-lxxXrUlvI8elizJVXzwQ/w426-h640/2503593.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><p></p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8784347630322256106.post-46786538091337279542022-10-15T18:03:00.001-07:002022-10-15T18:03:20.577-07:00Hijacked<p>Charlie's fingers danced across the aged leather pouch, eager to empty it of its goods. He grinned as metal clattered against the surface of his desk, admiring the emerald studded ring that fell from within. He'd had his eye on it for a while. It was calling out to him, begging him to buy it. He checked that antique store almost daily, hoping someone else wouldn't snatch it up before he had the chance. Then finally, he'd saved enough money, and here it was, in his possession. He lifted it up in his hands, admiring the simple design.</p><p>"Finally! It's been years!"</p><p>He gasped, and spun around. "Hello?" Charlie called out to his empty house. "Dad? Are you home?"</p><p>"I ain't your dad, kid!"</p><p>There it was again! A deep voice that was so clear in his head, it was as if they were in the room with him. Yet there was nobody about. "Who are you?" He called out. "Where are you!?"</p><p>"Cool it, kid. I'm right here in your hands."</p><p>He looked at the ring in his palm. "Wait... My ring can talk?"</p><p>"Not talk, per say," the voice explained. "More like mental communication via physical contact. I'm in your mind, kid."</p><p>"Oh... Well I'd prefer it if you weren't, Mystery Voice."</p><p>As Charlie proceeded to place the ring back on the table, the voice called out. "Woah, woah, woah!" It screeched, bringing him to a sudden halt. "Ain't you curious as to why I'm communicating with you?"</p><p>He was. But Charlie also knew that nothing good could ever come from cursed jewellery. Yet he couldn't unclench his fist. He sighed. "Okay, I'll bite."<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>"Glad to hear it," the voice replied with a snarky tone. "I was once as human as you. Eric's the name, and smuggling was my game. Real high quality stuff too. But someone didn't like me trading on their turf, and got their goons to off me. It was real gruesome, they slit my throat, and everything. But my will was too strong, bonding my soul to the ring you're holding now. I've spent years in this gussied up form, mulling over how I can move on, until someone salvaged me, and put me up for sale. Then you came along, and you rescued me."</p><p>"So you're a trapped ghost..." Charlie pondered the ramifications of his purchase before shaking his head in pity. "I'm sorry, but I don't know the first thing about exorcisms."</p><p>"Please! I'm begging ya. The only way you can help me is by putting the ring on. You wouldn't leave a poor guy trapped in purgatory. I can tell you're a good kid..."</p><p>Charlie clutched the ring tight, hovering his hand over the pouch it came in. The whole situation was sketchy AF. But Eric was right, he was a good kid. he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he abandoned someone in need. Charlie sighed, and put the pouch down. "Okay, but only because you were expensive, and I don't think I can return you..."</p><p>He placed the ring on the tip of his ring finger, the polished metal unnervingly warm to the touch. With his delicate fingers, he pushed it over his knuckles, admiring how it looked on his hand. </p><p>"Thanks kid," the voice exclaimed. "You've done more than enough."</p><p>With that, Charlie's vision began to blur. He felt numb, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to move his body. Even lifting his arm was strenuous. Eventually, he couldn't keep standing. His legs collapsed underneath him. He struggled to keep himself awake.</p><p>When he regained consciousness, something wasn't right. His vision was impaired, he felt more like he was watching a movie on a cinema screen. He still felt numb, and colder than ever. Yet he was already standing, and moving. He tried to lift a hand, yet he felt severed from his own body. All he could do was watch as his body performed by itself.</p><p>"It feels so good to move again!" He heard himself say. His body was pulling faces in the mirror, "It's a pity some pipsqueak took the bait, but I'll manage..."</p><p>Finally, Charlie found his own voice. "Hey! What the fuck is happening!?"</p><p>"Wh-" His body stopped, and rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're still around? Great..." </p><p>"Of course I am, this is my body!"</p><p>"No, you were supposed to assume my place in the ring..." His vision darted to the emerald ring now on the bedside table. "It ain't right having two blokes in the same body."</p><p>"Then get out! You can't just take over my identity!"</p><p>"Of course I can. I just did. You really think it was an accident I ended up in that ring? I was left for dead, and losing consciousness fast. So I concocted a little blood magic. Is it really unethical if it's your own blood? I bonded my soul to that ring, hoping one o' them goons'd come and pilfer my corpse. Then I'd possess his body, and all would be well. But no, now I'm in this puny form."</p><p>"You don't like my body? Then get out!"</p><p>"Okay, I admit your body is a tad cramped for my liking..." Eric rolled his shoulders, and clicked his neck. "But like I said, I think I can make it work." He clenched his entire body, his face twisted in concentration. "Nngghhh..." He pushed with all his might, until there was a horrible squelching noise. Charlie could only watch on in horror as his body began to morph itself in a grotesque fashion. It was like watching a horror movie. He couldn't look away, he couldn't feel the pain, he was detached from the horrors, yet engrossed in its proceedings.</p><p>His limbs reached abnormal sizes, and his torso barrelled outwards until his clothes couldn't handle the increase in mass, ripping to shreds of fabric that piled around his feet. From there, he could see dark swirls of hair billow up and across his increasingly beefier frame. It wasn't until Eric stopped grunting that Charlie could see the full effect of his terrible transformation. When he stepped in front of the mirror once more, Charlie's gut would've turned if he still had one. If his body wasn't his own after being possessed by the vengeful ghost, there was no denying the fact now. Instead of the timid teen he was used to, he was now looking at a buff, hair-covered man.</p><p>Eric couldn't help but roar in success. This powerful body was more than he had expected to obtain. He just had to show off the goods, preening in front of the mirror. "Not bad... Talk about a bitchin' upgrade!" he said with a smile as he flexed his bowling ball of a bicep. "Hard to believe you had this much potential burning up inside that lame, little body of yours. With guns like these, I could rival Rocky himself." He rubbed at his dark beard, his hand lingering on his chin, then grabbed at his pecs with a smirk. "My old body was never this buff. And I'm so much hairier than I ever used to be. Though maybe a little less up top..." Finally, his eyes were drawn downwards. "And this cock, now I'm really packing some heat!"</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Wa8zqzeYyWiqqCsAmAs48aAeFWNz2LT7meMqKaIiFc90yowFs05oo8uotvLxhSjuAR8kJqzZkFDyDmsjiYXiToYoX2-F8nXjW8kR2MvtvIQuH_XTmKQwyUcrFu-YwjAjdasUvsV1tdqE98aUBNgmCHOSF6Yme07ryO13XeVIyN51MFr-i-ryTFnfPg/s944/tumblr_meigoyW8wQ1r86ax8o1_1280.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="944" data-original-width="700" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Wa8zqzeYyWiqqCsAmAs48aAeFWNz2LT7meMqKaIiFc90yowFs05oo8uotvLxhSjuAR8kJqzZkFDyDmsjiYXiToYoX2-F8nXjW8kR2MvtvIQuH_XTmKQwyUcrFu-YwjAjdasUvsV1tdqE98aUBNgmCHOSF6Yme07ryO13XeVIyN51MFr-i-ryTFnfPg/w474-h640/tumblr_meigoyW8wQ1r86ax8o1_1280.jpg" width="474" /></a></div><p>Charlie could only watch on as the stranger reached down to his hardened member and gave it a little rub. "What did you do to me..." he uttered quietly.</p><p>"Well, I was hoping someone a little more mature would've been the one to put me on. Beggars can't be choosers, but I wasn't gonna spend the next decade as a spotty nerd."</p><p>"Hey, I'm sixteen!"</p><p>"You were sixteen, now you're a disembodied voice. Funny how that happens. As for me, I'm not sixteen. Youth is overrated, after all. I focused whatever magical prowess your wimpy former body possessed so I could accelerate the maturation process and bring me back to my proper age. And it feels so good! I feel so much more at home in my own skin, more like myself again."</p><p>"But nobody's gonna recognise me! I'm practically as old as my dad..."</p><p>"You're just not getting it..." Eric whacked his head a few times, making Charlie's vision spin out of control. "This ain't your body no longer. It's mine!"</p><p>"You can't..."</p><p>"Of course I can, kid," Eric replied as he gripped the emerald ring between his fingers and held it aloft. Charlie's vision splintered and turned a hazy shade of green. He was no longer looking at a mirror, he was dwarfed by the massive, hairy man he was previously inside of. Trapped in the ring. Eric tilted his head, and smiled. "You put your trust in the wrong guy. Maybe you'll find another body to possess someday. But it ain't gonna be this one!"</p><p>It couldn't end this way! Before Eric could grab the pouch, Charlie cried out "Wait, you need me!"</p><p>"I <i>need </i>you?" Eric cackled.</p><p>"You do! The world has changed a lot since you died. You're going to need someone to guide you in this new world. Like... Uhm..." Eric moved just enough for Charlie to spot something on the table in front of him. "That black rectangle over there."</p><p>Curious, Eric reached over to pick it up, and the screen flickered on. He looked unimpressed, mumbling "Okay... So it's some fancy light-up clock."</p><p>"No, it's my phone."</p><p>"Phone?" Eric scoffed, and almost tossed the ring aside. "That's bogus, kid. There ain't even any buttons."</p><p>"You don't need them. It's a touchscreen." Charlie watched as the man fumbled with the screen, engrossed by how it reacted to his touch. He continued, "everybody has their own personal phone these days. And it's not just a phone. It's a clock, a camera, a TV, a games console, library, record player, musical instrument... Really, just anything you can imagine. All in your pocket."</p><p>"Fuck me..."</p><p>"And if you're anyone under fifty who doesn't know how one of these work? Well, you're gonna have some trouble fitting in. People might get suspicious..."</p><p>Charlie could sense the gears turning in his former body. He knew Eric would want to keep a low profile, but would it be enough? Finally, Eric's slumped his shoulders, and groaned, "okay, kid... I s'pose I'm gonna need a guide to the future." Charlie sighed in relief. Maybe he'd find a way to regain his body after all, even if it was now grossly adult. "Then again," Eric continued in a foreboding voice. "That doesn't mean I need you sharing the same body as me." </p><p>If Charlie still had a gut, it would have dropped as the comforting warmth that surrounded him vanished in an instant. Eric smirked as he dropped the ring, into its leather pouch and chucked it onto the table.</p><p>"Sorry kid," he mumbled aloud, knowing full well that the ring would still be able to hear him. "Nothin' personal. I just don't want some pipsqueak yammering in my ears 24/7."</p><p>He proceeded to rummage through the house, until he found some half-decent clothes, some money, and some valuables he could pawn for extra cash. Which would be a great way to get rid of the kid too, he reasoned. When he no longer needed the brat to guide him through this newfound digital age. This was his body now. He'd made his mark on it too, he thought as he stroked his dense beard. How he missed having a beard to stroke, almost as much as he missed having a cock to do the same. Now wasn't the time, though. After admiring his reflection once more, Eric grabbed the leather pouch once more, feeling its contents burning up with anxiety and anger, and shoved it into his inside pocket. It was time for a new beginning, and he wasn't giving it up for anything. </p>revolwdwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03831263039317610463noreply@blogger.com1