Friday, November 25, 2016

The Town Where Age Went Crazy Part 4

Some time ago a device was stolen and activated which affected a small town in the Midwestern part of the USA. This device warped spacetime of the male biology of humans living within a certain perimeter. Specialists wiped the memories of the rest of the town and sent most of them to reassigned lives. We gave new identities to the males affected in this town, and many of them are quite happy with their new lives. It required a lot of cleanup and faked deaths to avoid discovery, but the government is now chronicling the effects of the device while we try and reverse what it has done for the segment of the population that has been altered negatively. All subjects have been placed in a biological limbo stasis that stops them from aging altogether. Our experts are assessing when individuals need to be reassigned to different towns. It may be that their immortality will require constant rotation to different locales to avoid suspicion, though we haven't crossed that bridge yet. Right now we are concentrating on how to keep the town off of the radar maps. We have established a private school for the "new children" in town. We have also set up check ins with the townsfolk a few times a year to make sure they are adapting to their new circumstances. Here are some of the case files from this ongoing report.
The nearest town to this one is a good 30 miles away. It is in an isolated part of the country, with low amount of traffic passing through. The cover story that we are giving surrounding towns is that a chemical spill occurred which required a massive cleanup and that many residents fled, only to be replaced within the last six months by "new" residents who were looking for cheaper real estate. We invented a number of fake backstories, educational requirements, and jobs for the new "adults". Children or seniors who wished new abilities/education for their new vocations were given instantaneous learning capsules that are unavailable to the public. This technology is not allowed within mainstream America and will not be made available for several decades, for reasons of national security. For the older residents who have been reyouthened, they got their pick from what we had available. Some businesses were simply re-employed with new owners and workers. Others we created to fill a gap, in other words give residents an excuse to be present in the town.  
As far as maturity goes, we did the best we could. We instructed the residents not to talk to outsiders about it, but reversed our stance on talking among themselves regarding the events that occurred that changed everyone's ages and permanently altered their bodies in stasis for that given age. For psychological reasons, we feel they should now be allowed to discuss it. These stories range from the first confusing days of the timespace breach to the present day. Names given are of the new identities.

CASE FILE # 65/66 - Al and Marty Brooks

"Mr. Booker? We're ready for you now."

"Why are you calling me that?"

"Because," said the government man wearing a white scientist's coat and white construction hat "You're an adult now. Grown men often go by Mr. and their last name. Look, Matt. I know it's hard to imagine, but you are going to have to be the grown up in your family now..." he said, as Matty burst into tears. The man sighed. "Mr. Brooks-"

"Stop calling me that, my name is Matty!"

"Your name is going to be Al Brooks from here on out. Look, Matty, we know this is hard but it won't be very hard once you undergo the procedure."

"You're gonna make me into an alien!" He swung back and forth and huffed his face defensively, just the way an 8 year old would.

"What? No, we aren't," the man said patiently. He hoped the kid wasn't going to run. He would have to call in a sedation. The entire town had been quarantined quickly and hundreds had been sedated already. Others were with experts being hypnotized as I spoke. We let Matty play outside if he promised to be a good boy while we worked on turning his dad, who was now only six years old, into the best 1st grader he could be, blocking his mind from adult memories.

He looked up at me with pouting lips and distrusting eyes. "I don't like you. You're making everyone different. I wanna go back to school with my friends."

"Your friends are mostly grown ups or teenagers now." He continued swinging and the swingset buckled under his new enormous weight. "Haven't you ever dreamed of being big, Matthew?"

"Only my grandma calls me that and now she's gone! You sent her away!"

"Well yes, we weren't sure if the women in town were contagious so we sent them to a separate facility. After that, after we're she is okay medically, we'll bring her back."


"Yes, I promise." Most of the kids in this town were either thrilled or horrified to be in adult bodies, depending. Some were fat and obese, some were thin, some were muscular. Different people had absorbed traits of others, sometimes those in proximity to them when the rift occurred, sometimes randomly. This kid was one of the ones that freaked out the most. He had tried to run when we first came in, with his six year old father shouting at him to come back. This was one of the worst days of my life, dealing with all this nonsense.

I led him back inside, all hulking 26 year old, 220 plus pounds of him.  We sat him down in the kitchen and flashed a ray in his eyes and he went under. I injected him with a nanoprobe that would deliver a complicated series of information to his brain. Behavior was a little difficult to predict, but he should be able to fill in as one of the local firemen. He had showed enthusiasm for the idea but was still visibly freaked out and intermittently cried as his father told him to calm down, barely coming up to his son's knees.

When the procedure was over, and he came to, I shone a flashlight in his eyes. He flinched. I stopped.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Brooks?"

"Good, I guess. I mean I'm okay considering I'm___" He struggled to talk but couldn't.

"If you're trying to talk about the event, we stopped your brain from being able to discuss it vocally. At least for now. We might change that in a few months but for now, just try and absorb all the new abilities about firefighting. Think of the station, the equipment, the exercises, and taking care of your 6 year old son." His eyes went wide. He stood up, a new man, suddenly born.

"I'm only 26 years old. I'm 26 years old. Why can't I say it?"

"What, that you're 8 years old? Because I told you not to say it. I programmed you. Look, Mr. Brooks I realize this is difficult, but you will get used to it. Take some time to try to get used to all the information in your brain. It will take some getting used to being in such a big body. We switched cars around in the town so you have the Honda in the driveway. It's now registered in your name. Here are the keys."

"I'm not allowed to drive!" the man said, incredulously. See, some things could slip through. Reprogramming was a difficult business.

"Don't mention that to anyone, Mr. Brooks. Or can I call you 'Al'?"

"Yeah, sure. Hey, my name is Al! Al! It won't let me say my name!"

"No, we made sure of that. Try to get used to it. Your name is Al Brooks. Your six year old boy is named Marky. His mother is dead from the chemical spill and you're her surviving widow. Now, we brought you some groceries for your first week. Why don't you try spending the day together getting used to your new bodies, okay champ?"

"Okay. Thanks. My son..." He had tried to say "my dad..." but his lips formed new words against his will now.

"Hi, Daddy!" said the little boy at his side. "I guess I can call you that now. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I mean, I guess." He held his head. I excused myself.


I checked in on Marky and Al a week later.

Al was walking around shirtless making breakfast for himself and his new son. It was a day off from work and his week had been very busy preparing for potential wildfires. He had made Marky a pancake stack and some bacon. He smiled to himself as I came in.

"Make yourself at home. How'd you like some breakfast?" He confidently strutted around the kitchen, absentmindedly rubbing his chest.

"Uh, no, Mr. Brooks I already ate."

"You were already 8?" He smiled slyly. He wasn't allowed to talk about the Incident but he could get around it.

"No, I'm not affected in that way," I said back. "So how are you adjusting?"

"Daddy is a fireman now!" Marky said. He showed me a crayon drawing of his daddy wearing a fireman's uniform and equipment.

"Good boy! Why don't we go into the living room while Marky finishes up. The grown ups are going to talk, son. I'll see you in a few minutes. You can watch TV when you're done here."

"Thanks, daddy!"

We sat down in two armchairs, him still shirtless.

"I'm fucking horny as hell," he admitted.

"So how do you find your behavior now?"

"Fuck, man. It's crazy. It's like I still wanna play on the playground, you know? But then I have all this stuff in my head and I act all cool. Like I'm acting like grownups that I've teachers I've had. Course they're all kids now." He rubbed his muscled arms.

"Part of the programming. Part of it will be you basing your behavior on grownups in your life, or maybe something we tailored for you. We try to get your personality to mature as it would have naturally."

"It's crazy but I love it now. Kinda. I mean I love being big and having muscle. It's amazing!"

"You're sounding more mature as well," I added.

"Sometimes I want to do kid stuff still. Like I want to jump up and down and run around in the supermarket and I kind of did do that," he blushed. "Felt so stupid, but then I remember I'm a grown up. It's like my body just suddenly remembers I'm like a dad now and other things." He rubbed his crotch.

"We try to repress the behavioral aspects of childhood but some of that will be up to you as well," I added. "It's not perfect."

"I guess the first few days were the worst. But now when I wake up it's like, oh yeah, I'm the dad now. It's like I still have all my memories up until a week ago of playing around and going to school. I feel like I'm just playing pretend and it's so much fun! I get to wear a fireman suit! Well, sometimes. Only in training sessions. I know everything about fighting fires! And other stuff. CPR! Lifesaving! And my son doesn't remember how to do anything."

"I think you two are adjusting nicely."

"Yeah. I think I'll take the little guy to the park later so we can go on the big swings. I um...I still like swings. Is...that okay?"

"Sure, big guy. Just don't have more fun than the little ones."

"Okay. Yeah," he blushed. "Hey uh, so what about my Grandma? Is she really coming back or did you make that up when I was just a kid so I'd swallow the medicine that made me act more adult?"

"Well, we are considering it. It will probably be about 3 or 4 months. If she comes back and anyone asks her where her son and grandson are, she'd have to say they're dead. If we keep her identity, so we have a lot to work out. But we'll see if we can get a phone number for you to call her soon. Okay, champ?"

"Alright, man," the former 8 year old, now 26 year old said, with a nod.

As I was leaving, the new Mr. Brooks admired his muscle in a mirror. Still marveling at the sheer size of his new frame, and posing as he smiled. I watched him through the screen door touching himself sensually before remembering his new fatherly duties awaiting him in the next room. He went to go check in on his little former father.

Just another day in the life of a secret government lab, I thought.

CASE FILE # 510 and 511 - Burt and Tyrell

"We have to call a zoning expert for that," Burt said for the third time. "Look, I don't want to waste time with this anymore. We'll talk to the zoning guy and then we can move ahead with giving preference to building a new lumber yard."

"But sir, the environmentalists are in an uproar over that," explained his new assistant, a balding 40 something that used to be 21 just a few months before.

"It look like I give a fuck? My job is run this town management style, not to cave into the demands of a few fruitcakes." Burt chomped on his cigar. Just a few months ago, he'd been a liberal hippy college kid, and now he was a card carrying member of the NRA and was a proud Republican.

"And sir, you got a call from the government about weekly updates. They want you us to do weekly calls more often to let people know they're coming."

"I barely have fucking time to do my laundry and these guys want me to do their job for em'. Bunch of whiny brats, all of 'em." Burt thought about the Town and its secret age problem every other day. Each week government guys were were interviewing different households of age shifted adults. "We gotta get these assholes to cool it. They can't be here this often. It attracts too much potential attention."

"Sir, they go undercover. Or they come in UPS trucks."

"I don't care. They want us to keep a low profile, they're gonna have to do the same. Arrange a meeting and we'll discuss new schedules with them. And uh, did you finalize the arrangement with the boys down at our new clubhouse?"

"Yes, sir. They're opening this next weekend. It's been toned down. Nothing advertised in front but the gogo boys are all pretty excited."

"So am I. I got lots of dollar bills to stuff and their tight little buns are just begging for it." Burt chuckled and smiled as he chomped his stogie. Just a few months ago he was a young man who couldn't imagine giving orders and making deals, let alone running the town's mayoral post as well as his own small law firm. And now he had a sizable investment made in the Town's first strip joint. Because of the nature of the Incident, all males in town had become homosexual. It was to remain a secret for several years. They didn't want to draw a lot of attention to the Town. They were still dealing with the women who had been in town previously, to bring them back so no one no outsider noticed the town was entirely male and entirely gay.

"I understand Tyrell will be working for you?"

"Of course," Burt said around his cigar as he went through various paperwork. "Boy's very excited about it."

Tyrell had been skateboarding all morning. He had been pretty carefree for the last three months. He had a job at the local grocery store as a stock boy a few days a week and the rest of the time he lived to work out, skateboard, play video games and smoke weed and cigars with his new young friends.

Not bad for 74, he thought. He loved walking around shirtless. It was an amazing thing to walk down the street attracting stares from all the hunky guys. He could never have imagined being gay before, as a conservative elderly lawyer. Hell, he'd even donated money against gay marriage to make sure it was never legalized. He'd lost track of the number of mouths he'd let suck his dick the last few months. Oh wait, he could...17. And soon he was going to get paid for it! His cel phone rang. It was Grandpa Burt.

"Hey, Grandpa."

"Hello, boy. Get over here."

"Right now."

"I'm stressed out about all the work I have to deal with and I'd like to eat lunch with you. And uh..."

"And what?"

"Grandpa wants you to suck his dick, son. Badly."

"It'll cost you, old man."

"Oh I'll be willing to pay. Course, you get free rent so I don't know if I have to."

"That used to be my house...son." Tyrell smiled, admiring the reflection of his image in a store window. He checked himself out every chance he got...he was so unbelievably hot and horny all the time now!"

"Get your skinny but over here." Burt hung up. Soon enough his skinny young new grandson, formerly his grandfather came strolling in like he owned the small office.

"Hey, pops."

"Didn't I teach you any respect? Give your Grandpa a hug." He sensually hugged the young man and felt up his ass.

"You know this used to be my office."

"And now it is again, when you're being the office slut. Every office needs one," Burt said arrogantly, and planted a kiss on her former grandfather.

"Oh, Grandpa. You are horny today. Well luckily I'm hot and young and don't have to worry about other people's legal problems, just how to keep my abs looking good."

"Lots of men are gonna love looking at those abs on the weekends. Hope you're ready."

"What, for easy money being a boy whore? Yeah. I'm pretty psyched. Sit back now, old man. Fuck, I can't believe I used to be that old."

"I like being this old. I can order around other people and not have to worry about returning to community college across state. Oh GOD!" The old man's dick sprang to alertness as his former grandfather took it in his reyouthened mouth and sucked until a slight dribble of cum fell into his eager mouth.

CASE FILES # 1,619 and 1620 - Raymond and Buzz

Raymond and Buzz were working the holiday rushes about ten months after the Incident which turned their town upside down. They ran an online toy business and it was the busiest time of year for them. They smoked cigars in their office and reminisced about what an amazing year it had been.

"I can't believe it's almost the holidays," said Raymond.

"I know," said Buzz, who was wearing a tacky reindeer tie that formerly belonged to his father, who was now in his 70s, whom he no longer lived together with. The two had a small staff of five that worked for them, all men who were equally affected by being warped younger or older by a few years or even decades.

"Government inspector is coming tomorrow. Did you have a talk with your kid?" Raymond said.

"I did. Made sure if he didn't tell them I was the best parent ever, I'd bash every toy he had into bits." Buzz laughed cruelly. He had volunteered to be a father to his former bully as had Raymond. The boys who had been just a few years older and much bigger had made his life a living hell. Now, instead of being a shy 11 year old fearing the reprisal of at the time some very intimidating 14 year olds, he was an adult who could do as he liked and they were 5 and 6 years old. He had had the idea and Raymond had jumped on it as well, claiming they really cared about the young little tykes when really they just wanted to get even.

It was fun. Every day was a reminded that he was three times bigger than his former bully and he could distribute spankings any time he wished. His former bully was now an obedient little boy who did everything he was told.

"You getting him anything special for Christmas?"

"I might get him some books. I'm trying not to spoil him, ya know?" He smoked his cigar and pulled it away from his mouth, savoring it and taking it all in. Every day was pretty much heaven, he thought. "Now, let's take care of that order that just came in..."

CASE FILE #1,511

This is me. My name is Dirk. I used to be 25 years old and now I'm about 50. I'd been trying to find work and basically was unemployable. I hated my life before the Incident and now I was as happy as could be. Being an older daddy had its advantages. I love having a beard and I live outside of town in my own small cabin. I lived alone for a while before finding a cub who wanted to live with me. I have my own garden and discovered I could make money doing coding work online. I asked the guys from the government if I could do that. It used to be hard for me, I had no job skills. I had very little family and was couch surfing with friends. Now at least I had my own place and instead of wanting girls, I want a hairy guy! Luckily, I came across Chuck. Here I am in the photo I put up online of myself and Chuck found me there. It was love at first fuck haha. He moved in shortly thereafter and ours was a beary match made in heaven. I love everything about being older, quite frankly.  I never felt like I was comfortable in my own 25 year old skin. I was anxious and depressed. Now I'm happy, have a huge beard and get to play around with my husband to be all day, when I'm not making websites. Also, since I work from home he sometimes likes to sneak in and suck me off while I do so. My life rules now. I hope they never find a cure!

CASE FILE # 407 - Chuck

I guess there isn't much to say, is there? I'm a fat bear! I was a skinny 16 year old twink just half a year ago and now I look like my own dad! And he is now 20 years old and works at the new strip joint downtown as a boy toy. Things sure changed after the Incident. All the men in town adapted and it's weird since everyone is gay and we aren't allowed to tell the outside world. The weird thing is I actually don't mind now. When it first happened, you should have seen me. I couldn't stop crying over being fat. I mean, I liked the beard but being fat? Gross! I thought it was the end of the world. Then they gave me a shot and I suddenly felt a lot better and more confident. I always hated the way I looked before, I was always worried about what people would think of me. Now I don't give a fuck! I like eating pizza and patting my belly while my hot daddy tells me to suck his dad dick! I love being a total pig and our sex lives are exciting and hot. Leather, latex, piss. I learned about a whole new world and quite frankly, it beats geometry! I hope they never find a cure and if they do, I'm staying put. I love being a fat dad, and quite frankly, my hubby loves me just the way I am. I never want to go back to high school. This is heaven! Now uh, I think I need to get some lunch...

Sunday, November 6, 2016

Halloween Swap Cards Part II: Growing Out of Foster Care

They say a son learns everything about how to be a man from his father. In some cases, there are fathers that soon wish they had been better examples. After all, when you teach someone kindness, it comes back to you. Unfortunately, there are some people that don't understand this concept until it is too late...

Take Mr. Jordan Frazier for an example of bad parenting gone awry...

"I don't want any lip from you, either. If you want to live here in MY house, you live by MY rules, and I don't put up with any CRAP."

"I just.."

"You shut the hell up! I'm not taking you trick-or-treating. It's a goddamn stupid thing to do, it's nothing more than begging. I don't give a shit what you want. Go get your work clothes on that I gave you and start chopping wood. You're a damned fairy but I'll make a real man out of you, if you listen and don't fucking whine. I don't want to hear any complaining from you or I'll take you across my knee, do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

Little Nate Wallace was in foster care. His mother was in jail and his father had been in jail, until he had gotten killed in a brawl. His life became a living hell in the orphanage. Older kids stole all his things and the people who got paid to set him up with parents didn't care what happened to him or what kid beat him up. They only cared about getting their paychecks. They set him up with a man who wanted to be a father, but he was a mean, mean man who just wanted the extra state money. He worked as a machinist, and was very conservative. He believed that children shouldn't speak unless they were spoken to, and he had been very abusive to Nate in just a few short months. Nate did many chores and was terrified of his new foster father, but Mr. Frazier told him what happened to lots of foster kids that was far, far worse. Things like getting killed or molested. There were plenty of worse fathers, he had said.

That night, Nate was cleaning the dishes after dinner and Mr. Frazier was drinking again. He liked to drink a lot. Nate didn't like him when he drank.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Mr. Frazier slurred.


"I suppose you want to leave because you think I'm so horrible," Mr. Frazier accused him of. "Hmm? Little shit. You think you're better than me. Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you! You don't like me, do you? Well, by all means, try and find something better. Maybe the next foster family will decide to be nicer to you, hm? Won't happen. Most of them live in fucking shitholes and they have other kids. You got a good thing going here, kid." He drank more of his Jim Beam out of the bottle.

"Can I go to bed now?"

"Can I go to bed now?" Mr. Frazier mimicked him rudely. "Stop bein' such a pussy, Nate. Jesus. You know you're lucky to have me. You know that?" The phone rang. Jordan answered it. "Yeah, why not? Sure, pick him up tomorrow."

"Who was that?"

"That was a friend of mine. He's gonna take you to the carnival tomorrow. See how nice I am? Let's see you get that at your next place..."

And that is where I gave little Nate his wish card. I told him to save it for something really good. I told him it could change him or any other person. He looked like he wanted to believe me, and I never know which cards will be used. But using my crystal ball later, and looking into his life, I couldn't wait for him to do so...

A few nights later, Nate made a mistake. He was so nervous living in a new house and Mr. Frazier was drinking and told Nate to make him a sandwich. Nate took the knife that Mr. Frazier liked to use. It was a nice knife with a wooden sheath and Nate had never used a knife with a sheath before. Jordan had told the young lad to clean it and always put it back in its place OR ELSE. It made Nate afraid and he put the knife back in with peanut butter all over it. He panicked as soon as it happened and took out the knife. There was peanut butter in the sheath and he frantically tried to wash it out in the sink. Mr. Frazier walked in just as he was doing it, since his sandwich was taking too long.

"What the hell you'd DO to it!?" he shouted. "It's fucking ruined now! Didn't I tell you to be careful of my things, boy?"

"I'm sorry! It's late! I'm tired!"

"Those are excuses! I'm gonna make you work hard to pay that off!"

"I already work hard! I work hard all the time!"

"You don't work for shit, boy. You don't know the meaning of the word!"

Something inside Nate wanted to rebel.

"Oh what, are you getting mad now? I put a roof over your head and I just let you go to a fucking carnival, and this is how you repay me?"

"You didn't take me! Mr. Grant did!"

Mr. Frazier got a look on his face of undeniable rage and he smacked Nate across the face and sent him flying across the floor.

"Now look what you did! You made me hit you! You want to make me really mad?"

"No," Nate cried.

"Too late for that," Mr. Frazier finished off his bottle of Jack Daniels, came over and picked Nate up and smacked his butt four times, hard. Nate started crying and blubbering. "Get upstairs before I kick your ass!"

Crying himself to sleep, Nate held the wish card in his hands.

"I wish I was big. And that he couldn't hurt me anymore, and that I could do whatever I wanted." The wish card with Madame Illusia's image in evaporated in a puff of smoke in the middle, leaving a hole in the middle. Nate sat up quickly and his eyes widened. "No way..." He went to sleep and hoped tomorrow would be different.

When he woke up, he wasn't a big grownup and he thought he must have imagined the thing about the middle of the card disappearing. It was just some stupid magic trick, he thought. Some joke shop trick. He put his clothes on and they felt tight. His shoes didn't fit. He frowned. It was Saturday and he needed to do chores but his shoes didn't fit. Great.

He went downstairs and Mr. Frazier was sitting and snoozing on the couch. His hair had become more of a buzzcut and his muscles were a lot bigger than Nate remembered.

He was even more afraid of him than before now!

He snuck out of the house and into the backyard. He used his work boots, which were bigger than his shoes by several sizes with lots of room so his feet sort of jostled around in them.There was a chicken coop so he collected the eggs. He cleaned up the chicken shit and turned the compost heap, which was a lot of work. Then he started to get the pitchfork to break up dirt for the vegetable garden. He kept feeling pain in his legs and back. His pants were struggling against his skin. He forgot he needed to put his workclothes on. Mr. Frazier kept them in the barn. He went into the barn where they were kept and felt relief when he put them on. One was just a loose fitting camo shirt that Mr. Frazier used to use, and some pants that Mr. Frazier used to use as well, that were now old and dirty. The pants he needed a belt for and he cinched it very tight even though they bunched around him. Over the next two hours he worked and toiled in the growing morning sun.

"Geez, I'm thirsty," he said out loud to himself. "Oh no, I hope I'm not getting sick!" His voice was thick and husky. He didn't feel sick and he hoped Mr. Frazier wouldn't be mad if he had to go to a doctor. He stretched his muscles. and flexed. His...arms were different. He flexed again and his penis throbbed. He realized that all of a sudden his pants were lifting up and the belt was really tight! He loosened it and continued to work. Work became much easier and he found himself taking great pleasure in lifting and throwing up dirt. He imagined he was big and strong like Mr. Frazier. His imagination must be running wild, he thought. He looked at his arm. He must be dreaming! It looked huge! It looked like a grown man's arm!

"Wow." he said. "My voice! What's going on?" He absentmindedly had kept loosening the belt and now he realized that it was impossibly on one of the last notches. "What? Why are my pants not bunched up anymore?" Sure enough, they fit him like a glove now.

He trudged back to the house and his muscles throbbed. He stopped several times as if he was absorbing energy of some kind. It was so pleasurable he couldn't believe it. He got to the door and his suspicion leapt in his heart. He was in disbelief. He was taller. He was almost as tall as the top of the door. He took off the boots and wandered into the bathroom and couldn't believe what he saw in the mirror.

"Oh," he said. "Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. I...I'm big! It worked. Oh my gosh, it worked! Oh no. Oh no! It worked!" He panicked. What was he going to do? He had to escape, he thought suddenly. He had to get to a bus station. He had dreamed of leaving and going somewhere but...he didn't have any money, he realized. Mr. Frazier didn't give him an allowance. He felt like a giant. His legs were powerful and he loved the way they felt as he walked. He gingerly felt the outline of his pants and realized his penis was a lot more hefty than it used to be. His arms and chest were tiny boulders attached to his body. "Wow," he said. "I don't believe-"

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" A man said, coming in the bathroom. "I have a gun and if you don't get the hell out of my house or tell me what you're doing here, I'm gonna use it to put a bullet in your ass, motherfucker!"

"Mr. Frazier? Is that you?"

"Course it's me, who the fuck are you?" the man shouted. The man had brown hair and looked like he was 30 at the most.

"You...look different. I'm me. I mean it's me! It's Nate!"

"Oh so are you some kind of nut? Because I'm gonna kill you if you-"

"Look in the mirror!" Nate cried, just as Jordan saw himself finally.

"What the fuck? What the hell? My body. face! This isn't possible!"

"Yuh huh cause I made a magic wish and it came true and it made me bigger but it made you younger! Cause I wanted to be older so I guess it had to make you young cause that's the way it works or somethin'. I don't know. I hope you're not mad at me!"

"This is impossible. I haven't even had a beer yet. Look at me!" He turned in wonder at the huge man cowering in fear, looking like he was about to cry.

An hour later, the two had talked extensively about the carnival and what had happened.

"So what do we do, Mr. Frazier?" Nate asked. 

"Kid, I'm fucking 30 again. Or younger! What are we gonna do? We ain't doin' nothin'. But you gotta go. I'll give you some clothes but you gotta get the fuck outta my house."

"What? Why? I don't have anywhere to go!"

"Well I guess you should have thought about that before you made a magic wish, huh junior? Now I'm not gonna fight you on this. I'll have to report you ran away, and you are gonna have to find some way of being an adult out there in the big world. You aren't a kid anymore, which means I can't make any money for taking you in. And I'm thinking of going to Florida. Fuck, look at me! I'm gonna get tons of pussy! Oh, man. I remember being this age! I got pussy all the time!"

"W-what do you mean?" Nate asked, confused. Mr. Frazier laughed, delighted at his ignorance. 

"Kid, I mean sex. See, you stick your dick in a woman's hole. In her pussy. Then you fuck the bitch until she screams and you pop your boner inside and it feels like heaven. Just don't get a bitch pregnant. You wear a condom for your dick. There. That's our sex talk. You shouldn't have any problems now finding some pussy, hell you look bigger than me. Guess I'll have to get a new foster kid."

"Oh yeah, well I'm glad you aren't my foster dad anymore! You're stupid and I hate you!" The grown man screamed the words and ran away and it seemed very immature both in the way he said it and the way he ran. He just didn't know anything about being a grown man yet and he was in the body of a muscular stud! What was he going to do! he thought. He went to the barn and cried. 

After he was done crying, he went for a walk. He put on his workboots, which now fit his feet very snugly where before his feet loosely jostled around in them. He loved walking around on his new legs. They were so big! He loved the feeling of being so heavy and he loved being bigger than he was. It felt so good! It just made him feel warm feelings in his penis to think about it. He walked to the guest house on the edge of the property, which Mr. Frazier rented out most of the time but was still currently looking for a tenant. He thought about what Mr. Frazier had said and wondered how his penis could get hard like that. Just then, he noticed something falling in his eyes. He swiped it away and noticed it was his blond hair. he felt his head and enormous clumps of his hair started to just fall right out, painlessly.

"My HAIR! NO! NOT MY HAIR!" He felt his head frantically. All of his hair had fallen out, all at once. He felt a surge of energy and testosterone. His muscles became taut and grew. He was overwhelmed by his own masculinity and strength. It was intoxicating like nothing he'd ever experienced and he moaned his new baritone voice in sheer pleasure. "Oh GOD that FEELS SO GOOD!" After the feelings subsided, he thought about it, and the way he'd worded his wish. 

"I got older! That means..." He started to run back to the house on his huge legs and smiled to himself.

 When he came in the house, or rather stomped in the house, there was a young teen screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Alright! You got younger and I got older again!"

"No! Make it stop! I was happy being 30! You did this you little son of a bitch!"

Nate realized he was looking down on his new foster father. By a head. He crossed his arms.

"I don't have to be sorry," he realized. "And I'm BIGGER than you now!"

Coming out of the house, with a huge smile on his face, Nate dragged his new stepfather in a headlock.

"Let me go! Let me go! Let me go, you little faggot!"

"I'm not little anymore! Stop saying I'm little!" Nate felt surges of testosterone flooding his system. He was right and he was in charge and he was going to show this fucker that he was gonna tell him what to do now, because he was way bigger now!

"Get off me! You can't do this!" Nate let him go. Then picked him up by the lapels of his now oversized shirt.

"Gimme your car keys!"

"No! No, you ain't drivin' my car!" Nate put him down and shoved him onto the ground, and then to Mr. Frazier's shock, he sat on top of him. 

"Get off me, get off me! Help! Help!"

"No one is around for miles! Ha ha! Now gimme your keys, little man!"

"Okay, okay, here! But you don't know how to drive!"

"It's okay, I can learn! Come on, I wanna go down to the river! It'll be fun! Oh but first we should change clothes."

Jordan screamed and ran at Nate, who simply threw him aside on the ground.

"Ow! You hurt me!"

"Yeah, cause you're a little BITCH now." Nate had never cursed before but he felt excited by it and was breathing more quickly. "And I tell YOU what to do now! GOT IT? And if you don't like it, I'll...I'll give you a smack across the face!"

Mr. Frazier, now a slight 14 year old boy with auburn hair and thin demeanor, couldn't believe how much smaller he was than this fucking kid! The kid outweighed him now by at least a hundred pounds! He tried on some of Nate's bigger clothes, that he had been handed down by the orphanage in the hopes he would grow into them. Nate didn't fit into many of Mr. Frazier's shirts because he was way bigger than he had been, but managed to find something.

An hour of practicing on the farm later, Nate felt like he had gotten the hang of driving enough to take the jeep out to the river. He delighted in being a good driver along the road and Mr. Frazier in his diminished position told himself that at least it was a flat road without curves and he sighed in relief.

"I can't believe you can do anything you want now and you're blowing bubbles," Jordan said.

"I like blowing bubbles! This is gonna be fun!"

"You can't do this. We can't do this. I'm not going back to school. You can't get a job. We have social security numbers, and people expect me to be into work. People know where I live. So does the foster system. What happens when they come for a visit and find two strangers living in the house!"

"I dunno, but it's your problem, huh?" Nate blew bubbles.


Jordan yelped as he was picked up in midair.

"Shut up, KID. I'm the daddy now and what I say goes. Now why don't we go home and you can make ME some dinner. And you're doing the dishes afterwards! Ha!"

"No! No no no no no! This can't be happening! I wanna be older again! You can't do this! You're just a kid!"

"Shut up and get in the car!" Nate ordered. He felt so grown up! He felt his face and noticed he was starting to grow a beard. "Hey look, I have facial hair! Cool!" He drove them back to the farm without problem.

When they got home, Nate was gloating and was feeling the high for the first time in his life of being big and threatening and his cock throbbed with power at the thought of telling Mr. Frazier what to do. Nate sat back on the couch watching TV while Jordan slaved away at dinner. Nate took great satisfaction in this and he checked in on the now youthened lad's progress.

"How are you coming along?" he said gruffly, loving how his voice now sounded.

"It'll be done when it's done."

"Are you mouthing off to me? I'm an adult now! You can't mouth off to me, you have to do what I say and respect me! So there!" He grabbed the boy and lifted him up in the air. He was so big! His muscles swelled.


"No! Stop!"

"I'm taking your age again!" The boy struggled in his arms. "HELL YES! GIMME THAT AGE, BOY!" he roared.

"No no no!" Mr. Frazier screamed, his voice getting shriller and shriller. "No no nooooooo!"

Nate could feel the mass from the boy moving into him, flowing into him. His muscles and back expanded. He moaned. He drained the boy until he was only 8 or 9 years old again. He put him down and his body swole with muscle and age. Tattoos swirled around on his arm. His beard grew out more fully.

"Oh god. My voice. It's so deep now!"

Mr. Frazier looked far up, helplessly. His new clothes were now much bigger on him.

"Look how big I am! I'm so big! I'M HUGE!! And I'm hungry! What's for dinner!" he demanded.

"I...I made some spaghetti."

"Great! Sounds awesome!" Nate helped himself to a large portion of the food, helping himself to as much as he could shovel in his mouth. He started eating without asking Jordan if he even wanted any. "I'm starving! God, I'm hungry! I've never been this hungry before!" He made disgusting noises as he practically inhaled his meal.

Mr. Frazier, in a daze, got out a beer and took off the cap. Nate heard the hiss and as the now mere boy sat down just opposite to him, he couldn't help but laugh to himself.

"Are you kidding me? Really?"

"I need a beer," the 8 year old Jordan told him.

He moved quickly to pounce over and snatch the beer out of the boy's hand.

"Little boys don't drink beer. They can have milk, water, or orange juice. You can have one of those. Only grown ups get to have beer." He sniffed. "Hey, that smells good." He tried a sip. "Mm. That's yummy! Course, I'm not gonna be a total alcoholic like you. So you can't drink anymore. Little man. Got it?" He finished off his first beer. "Wow, that's really different. Kind of gross, but kind of good." He put some spaghetti on a plate and offered it to the young boy, who had gotten some milk for himself wordlessly. Jordan looked up at his new "dad" worriedly. He wanted to make things right now. He was so innocent looking, Nate thought.

After dinner, he sat down.

"We need to have a talk, boy."


"Do you remember things now? Did you notice how things have changed? Look at the photos in this room." Jordan did so. All of the photos were of the now grown up Nate.


"Yes. I'm a state machine inspector. Do you know what that means?"


"Well, that's because you're a dumb kid. I'm a big grown up, and you're a kid from foster care. This is my house and if you live here, you are gonna live by MY rules!"


"Yeah, and I ain't gonna be an alcoholic loser like you, either. I make way more money than you did. And I work hard for my money. So you're going to respect that and respect me and you will call me 'SIR'. Do you understand?"

"I...this is my house! Mine!"

"Oh really? You're an 8 year old. You're trying to tell me you're the boss of this house, buddy?"

"You little faggot! I can do whatever I want! I can do anything! You can't tell me what to do!" Jordan yelled, mustering all his strength. Nate grumbled a laugh.

"Oh?" He stood up. Way up. He was so much taller and bigger than Jordan now. He grabbed Jordan before he knew what was happening. He was now over Nate's knee. No! No! he thought.

He smacked little Jordan on the butt four times. Jordan blubbered after the spanking.

"Yeah. Trick or treat, you little bitch! You want another one?"

"No, I'm sorry!" Why was he crying like a little bitch? He was acting like some dumb kid!

"Apology accepted. Are you going to make me spank you again?"


"No, what?"

"No, sir. You're in charge."

"That's right and I take that seriously. I'm going to be a good foster father to you. And don't go telling them we swapped ages because they won't believe you. And don't tell them I spanked you unless you want to go back to the big, bad orphanage. You understand me, BOY?"

Jordan shook his head up and down yes.

"Now, why don't you go be a little angel and wash the dishes for daddy?"

Jordan did so obediently. Nate put his feet up and relaxed. His old foster father's training had begun...



"Yes, Mr. Wallace?"

"Are you ready yet, son?"

"Yes, sir."

The little boy came trotting downstairs with his baseball glove. Mr. Wallace, as Nate went by now, had taken an interest in getting the boy into athletics. He would raise Jordan right this time. The boy had already forgotten everything about how to be an adult and only marginally remembered being big and old. He smiled. He was a true mentor now, guiding the little tyke into male bonding activities like baseball, going to the park, farm work they did together (he didn't feel right just giving the boy chores like he had been given, and he wanted to set an example) and showing the little boy how he worked out with his huge barbell and dumbbell weight set in the backyard. He promised little Jordan that he could start lifting weights when he turned 11 or 12.

They had swapped ages, swapped rooms, and swapped life roles. Only Nate was popular, had some very manly friends in town, and was a more successful man than Jordan ever was. All thanks to a very special lady named Madame Illusia and her magic wish cards.

So come one, come all. The next time you go to a Halloween carnival, and you see her tent, take advantage of the opportunity! Your entire life could change overnight!

Monday, October 31, 2016

Halloween Swap Cards

Ah, Halloween. My very favorite day of the year. My name is Stefan and I am the assistant to the one and only and fabulous Madame Illusia. She really can transform Halloween into...well, really she just transforms period. I have a penchant myself and have since the 1870s, for exchange boys and men to live in each others shoes, in particular fathers and sons. I love to dabble in this regard. It's quite fun, and I love the transformations either just before, during or after Halloween the most. If we don't transform our audience members, we give voucher cards to...interested young men. Let's gaze into my crystal ball and see some of the results...


"I choose you, Bulbasaur! Pew pew!"

"Simon? Sweetheart? What are you doing?" I looked at my son, slightly horrified by how a costume that perfectly fit him this morning now barely covered his enormous adult body.

"We're going trick-or-treating! Trick-or-treating! Remember! I still have my costume but I'm big now!"

"Sweetie," I said, trying to remember the man who had shot up to be my age and my height within a few short minutes was actually just my little 9 year old Pokemon loving little son.
"The thing is, you became an adult and grown men don't go trick-or-treating."

"But I want to! Please daddy, please please please! I wanna go trick-or-treating!" It was so odd to hear a grown man talking like my 9 year old son, or whining like one.

"Look, now you told me you used magic to get big and if I didn't see it I wouldn't have believed it." I had seen it, too. One minute my little guy was watching some cartoon show and the next he was shooting up out his jammies and entering puberty before my very eyes. Within an hour he had a five-o-clock shadow! "But here's the thing, I don't know how you did it. If you tell me, we can make you into a little boy again and THEN I can take you trick-or-treating.

"Maybe...maybe because I have a cool costume I can say I'm doing it for another kid?"

"Sweetie, when was the last time you ever saw an adult trick-or-treating."

Simon looked glumly at the ground and pouted.

"They don't. Only kids get to." He hugged his Pokemon stuffed toy.

"Okay, so why don't you show me how you did it, and we'll figure out a way to get you trick-or-treating and be a kid again, okay?"

"Okay, but you have to take me trick-or-treating!" he shouted.

"I promise."

"Yay!" He ran out of the living room and stomped up the stairs not understanding his own strength and weight. He stomped back down and awkwardly walking on his new tall legs brought me an illustrated business card with the words "Your wish is my command". Huh. A hole had been burned in the center of it and on the back the words "Madame Illusia in highly stylized lettering covered the rest.

"The carnival!"

"Uh huh!"

"It's still in town. We'll go back there right now!"

"Can I wear my Pokemon costume, daddy?"

Sigh. "If it were any other night, pumpkin, I'd say no but you know what,  you'll blend in on the one night everyone is dressed in something ridiculous."

My son beamed as I opened the door and he managed to scoot outside, still taking little steps and not understanding that as a big adult he could take larger strides.

I drove us to the carnival as fast as I could. It was on the outskirts of town and it felt a bit eerie. When we got there I was exhausted. I leaned back in my seat. My son shuffled excitedly next to me, and I was surprised that he was looking down on me.

"Sweetheart, did you get bigger?"

"I don't know! Did I get bigger, Daddy?"

"Let's get out of the car..."

I did so and as I grappled with getting down I realized I never had a problem getting down out of my truck. My legs were...shorter. I marched around the front of my truck and sure enough I was now at eye level with my son's chest. My pants started to sag down and my shirt was too big. My arms were much thinner.

"No. No no no no no! What the hell!" I panicked and ran to the rearview mirror to check myself out. I looked no older than 15 or 16 years old.

"I'm a teenager! How! Oh my god!" My voice had changed, it was cracking through my excitement as if all the cool manliness I'd striven for when I was that age had just drained out of me. All the years of adopting a studly and cool image reduced in just mere moments of time. "What did you wish for? Exactly? Can you tell me, sweetie?"

"All I wished for was that I could be big," Simon said, unsure. He shuffled his feet.

"You can't hide anything from me, mister. Spill it." I suddenly realized a 15 year old chewing out a grown man looked odd, like...really odd. I thanked God no one was around in the dirt parking lot to hear us.

"I just wanted you to have fun! So I wished that I could be big for Halloween and that you could go trick-or-treating cause you said daddies can't go trick-or-treating up to get candy and stuff."

"We have to find that Madame Illusia now! Do you remember where the man was that gave you the card?"

"Uh huh! I think. Maybe.

We walked up to the ticket booth and I paid for us.

"Your dad letting you pay for you guys?"

"What?" I asked, my voice sounding like I'd just swallowed a balloon of helium. I caught my pants again. They were now bunching up at my feet! Hopefully people would think it was some kind of weird costume. My shirt billowed over me as well. How old was I, 12? 13? This was a nightmare! "Oh, uh..yeah." My son giggled.

"Alright, son. There you go."

Son? Did...he just call me son? We had to hurry!

"Excuse me! Can you tell me where Madame Illusia's tent is?"

"Uh..I don't know that attraction."

"She's a fortune teller."

"Fortune teller. Huh. No. Don't know. Sorry, kid. Say, what's your costume? You look like you're wearing your dad's clothes here." I looked up, way up at my son.

"We switched bodies!"

I was so exasperated.

"Daddy, you said not to say anything..." I led him away by the hand. The man behind us laughed.

"Hey, that's a great costume idea!"

We searched in vain and I was finding it difficult to keep up with my son with his now long legs.

"We need to find a bathroom!" I was scared and needed to see myself. We asked for help and were directed to the nearest one, it was the only permanent structure here. I gasped when I saw myself. I let go of my pants and stepped out of them. My shirt clutched the ground. I was an 8 year old boy. My eyes welled up with tears."My clothes don't fit. Help me!"

"Do you want my clothes, daddy?"

"Yes. We have to switch. I can't wear these..." He dutifully gave me his pokemon shirt, overalls, and shorts. I gave him my regular street clothes and he looked at himself in the mirror. We had switched ages.

"Wow...I look like...a grown up!" He touched his stubble in wonder and smiled.

We walked outside and I told him to button his shirt like a good boy, which would have sounded ridiculous to anyone overhearing us.

"Come on...we have to find that woman!"

"I'm way taller than you now, dad!"

"Yes. I know. I noticed."

We walked around for another hour. Night fell.

"Daddy, look at all the rides! It's so cool!"

"We went just yesterday. Don't you remember?" Again, this is a very odd conversation to have with me using the voice of a small child.

"I know but I'm tall now and I can see more!"

"Yeah well I'm not and I can't see anything! Try to remember where you were!"

"Daddy, I wanna go on that ride over there!"

"No. You're not old enough." Oh God.

"Yeah I am! I am! I'm tall now! Come on!" Sigh.

We discovered that I was no longer to ride the scary ride and my son was. He looked at me to pay for the ticket, and I reminded him with a nudge that the wallet was now in HIS pocket.

"OH right! I'm the adult so I'll pay for the ticket!"

"Uh huh," the bored ticket seller said, with a raised eyebrow. My son swung in his metallic chair as it pivoted and the ride started. He started whooping in delight and the ride was one of those spinning ones. When it was over he stepped out and was dizzy but he had the biggest smile plastered on his face!

We walked away and I was rather happy for him, I have to admit.

"Daddy, let's play some games!"

"We don't have time for that!"

"Uh huh! We have all night! Come on! Besides, I'm the grown up so I get to say we have fun tonight and you're the kid, so you need to have fun! Right?"

Sigh. Was I mad enough to entertain this? I looked up at my new adult son with his big goofy grin. I felt like crying and screaming. So I did what anyone having a nervous breakdown would do. I went along with it.

"One hour."

"Yay! Yay!" He jumped up and down in joy. "Can I say what games we play?"

"You're in charge of fun for the next hour!"


So I played the games and went along with it. Then we saw a jack o lantern carving contest and marveled at all the original designs and faces and pumpkin art. My son "oohed" "wowed" and said "aw cool" to everything. I smiled. What a goofball. He was still carrying around his Pokemon toy. I had taken the ball. I mean it was my costume now.

"Dad, look, popcorn!" My son paid for some without asking me for permission. He had gotten used to being the one that pays fairly quickly, I thought with some faint concern. This is what him being a teenager would be like, no doubt.

We ate what had to be some of the best smelling and best tasting popcorn, with real butter, in the world as we sat on a bench. He patted me on the back.

"Havin' fun, daddy?"

"Yeah. I actually am. Oddly."

I spied a beer seller across the midline.

"God, I wish I could have a beer right now."

"Why, daddy? It always smells so gross."

"Yeah well, it tastes like heaven."

"Really? Can I have some? I'm a big grown up now."

I thought about it. For a brief moment.

"No. It makes you sleepy. We need to be awake to find this woman."

"But what if we can't find her, daddy?"

"Then we are going to have a few more problems than exchanging outfits tonight. Like how to get home. Do you know how to drive?"

"No!" He laughed. "Pbth. I don't know how to drive, I'm only like 9. Oh. Waitaminute!"

Oh no.

"I can drive now! I can drive the car!"

"You are not driving anywhere. We're changing back. Keep looking."

We looked all night. I got really tired but my son still had energy. We sat down and he looked really bored and started to pout.

"I wanna go home, dad!"

"We can't." I said faintly. "We can't just...go back. We can't stay like this!" I was beginning to get terrified. I shivered.

"Are you cold, daddy?"

"A little," I said, sounding pouty.

"It's okay." He bent over and hugged me. I smelled his shirt and felt his big body lovingly caress me for comfort and his chest hair rubbed me in my face.

"Hey. Look." Suddenly, we were the only people in the park. Everyone else had disappeared. "Did they close, daddy?"

"Hey, that's where I saw the guy! The one who gave me the card! By the horses!"

"The carousel?" It was foggy all of a sudden. I shivered more. We got up and walked towards it.

"Mr. MacKenzie?" I jumped. A caramel skinned man in a red suit stood behind us.

"Hey! It's you!" Simon exclaimed. "Daddy, it's him!"

"Okay, I know this sounds insane but did you grant my son some kind of...wish?"

"You're a little young to be having children," he said with a grin. "Follow me, please. Your presence is requested. I've been watching you on my ball just now, it's a rather brief version but it was enough for me to gauge the situation."

He led us to a dark tent shrouded by fog.

The woman seemed like she could be in her 40s or 50s, I couldn't tell. Black hair, gypsy getup, hoop earrings, streaks of gray in her hair. Had a vaguely Eastern European/Italian accent.

"Ah yes, the new father and the new son! How are you liking seeing things from another viewpoint? Is very educational, I think."

"Well. Yes. It was but...we can't stay like this."

"They always are saying this!" she said loudly to her companion. "Always I cannot! I cannot do this! I cannot be a donkey person! I cannot be a horse or a dog because I have a job! I cannot exchange gender! I can't be my wife! I can't be my husband! I can't go to work at his job! Americans. Always the same."

"Okay, that's..all fascinating but he really can't go to my job. You see, he doesn't look like me so he can't really impersonate me, and number two, he is nine in the body of an adult man, so he doesn't even know how to do long division yet, much less keep food on the table, nor should he!" I said in my shrunken voice. I should be a child actor, I thought.

"You should be a child actor! You would be so adorable!"

"Hey. I didn't tell you that." I frowned.

"Daddy, can you and me both be grown ups? Then I could have fun with you all the time!"

"When I take from one, another must get. If not you, someone else. I give and I take." She shrugged.

"Okay well can you give me years so I can keep paying our rent?"

"If I tell you money is not the problem, would you want to remain a child? Think of all the pressure you are under. All the stress."

It was true. My ex wife demanded alimony even though I kept Simon. She was a basket case and I was lucky to have custody but she got on my nerves and so did my boss. All the time. My life would be nothing without my little guy.

"If I say I have the magic so your son can be a grown man with a grown man's mind, maturity, and knowledge, this I must take from you. Would you like it?"

"Yes! Daddy, yes! Then I can be the dad! It would be so great!"

" No, son. I'm responsible for you. I love you. That's why I can't do it."

"I am afraid it is the decision for the grown ups." The Madame said sadly.

"You mean my dad?" Simon said looking down at me.

"The grown up is you now. You decide." I looked panic stricken. "No! No! Please not that!"

My son looked guilty and looked back and forth between me and the Madame. It would have been comical were he not deciding whether or not to send me back to 4th grade.

"I'm sorry. I...can't do this. Go ahead and switch us back, please. I'm sorry for the wish I made, I just wanted you to have a good time and for us to have fun!" I looked up at my big son and went over to hug him.

"I know you did. But I brought you into this world, not the other way around."

"I just wish you could be happy always, Daddy."

I looked up at him. And smiled.

"So. Change us back?"

No one answered. Suddenly we heard the crowd again. The tent faded and we were outside the carousel. Everything was being shut down. All the carnival people were closing up the rides, attractions, and vendor stands.

"No. No! Where did she go?"

"I think...she granted my wish," my son said in amazement.

"What do you mean?"

"I wished for you to be happy. And..." He took out my wallet and he produced a driver's license...with his photo and name. Only his age was now 32.

"No, this isn't possible."

"Can you remember how to drive, dad?"

" hit the thing." I looked up at him in horror and he looked at me with comprehension and lightly rubbed my back.

"I'll take good care of you, dad." I walked in shock with him, and he took my hand.

" have a job."

"I have a job. At the lumber store. Remember?" I blinked. I did. I also remembered being big but that was a long time ago...

We got into the car and he effortlessly started the ignition. I thought the entire trip home was a dream, him smiling and watching the road as he drove. The next morning I woke up and he had made breakfast. He told me I could stay home the first day because it was Sunday, but he couldn't be late for work. He apologized and ran out the door. I walked through the house and noticed pictures of my son and wife together as husband and wife. Only in this dimension, he had only used her as a surrogate mother. Which seemed odd, but it worked for the sake of whatever magic had been used.

That night, he came home and seemed a lot more subdued. He told me he could do my job but he lamented he only made $14 an hour. He was really trying to get a job as a manager and I said I believed in him, and he said he knew and the only thing he needed to make him happy was me.

That's our story. I'm writing my book report for Tom Sawyer and my new dad is calling me by my first name instead of "Dad".

"You about ready to go to bed, Kevin."

"Yeah, dad."

It was still a little strange calling him dad.

"Son, I have some news for you. I'm...I met a nice lady at work. She works at the copy shop across the way. And she's very special. I'd like to invite her over for dinner tomorrow night. Do you think that would be okay?"

"Yeah," I said. "That's fine." He smiled and kissed me goodnight. "That's my boy," he said.

After tucking little Kevin, formerly "dad" in, Simon went downstairs and helped himself to a single beer and flipped on the TV to watch a little porn before bed. He wasn't wasting time with this body, and he felt at peace with everything. He grabbed the Pokemon stuffed toy he had been so excited about just a month before and gave it a squeeze. Now that he was a real man, he had enjoyed adult experiences, but he was going to be just as devoted to being a good dad and making sure his former dad got the best possible childhood. He now understood what an awesome responsibility that was, and was still not sorry he had made his wish. Inside, he had been thinking that night how desperately he wanted to stay. And it looks like Madame Illusia agrees with me, he thought.

And after using the dumbbells he had just bought, maybe he could go as Captain America or Superman next Halloween, he thought with a smile...

Saturday, September 10, 2016

A Karmic Redistribution of Bodies

"To us!"

"To us, man!"

The jocks clinked beer glasses in a toast. They had just won another game and as much as I hate sports, I was devoted to my prey and so I watched them intently from afar.

"I think we're gonna go all the way, man. We're gonna win state."

That buzz cut gorilla you see there is named Charles. Charles is a beast of a man. In more ways than you would assume. A dominant alpha male. A football player on his way to going pro in just a year from now. I know, I can see these things. Charles is also a bit rapey. My client was one of his many conquests, and she has hired me for you see, I deal in such matters.

Now, before I continue, please know that my services are not to be requested for any mere paltry excuse. When someone requests my services, it is because someone recommended them to me. At that juncture, I can then decide whether or not I personally want to interfere. However, I will say that a great deal of young people these days are confused as to what constitutes the need for help. If you don't want someone speaking at your campus because it hurts your feelings, don't come crying to me. I'll perform a memory spell that makes you forget you ever heard my name. I shit you not, a girl contacted me a few months ago because some jock she didn't like used a sexist hashtag she got offended by. I gave him a bigger cock, made her forget me, and upped her sexual libido and need to get fucked by about 500% and she went from being a feminist SJW to a campus slut who participates in group orgies with the same jocks she used to scream about. So don't waste my fucking time.

Charles, however, was right up my alley. He was a classic bad date. My client was date raped in an alleyway, because that's sometimes how Charles gets his kicks. She woke up on a park bench. That's how much he cares. And before you go off about who tells the truth, I have a spell to determine that rather easily. Charles was a perfect match for what I like to call a karmic redistribution. It's somewhat of a specialty with me.

Who am I? I'm slightly older looking than your average college aged student. You’ll forgive me if I don’t share much in common with them, though, seeing as I originally went to college in the 1960s. You'll never know I'm right behind you, listening to your conversations and taking note. I could be in your dorm room or your shower, or even your car. You would never know. I'm perfectly happy with the wealth I have accumulated and yes, I do know quite a bit of magic. There's a group of us, you see. We all keep in touch. It's a magician thing. We tend to have our cliques based on what we do. There's Mr. Cachimbo, Mr. April, about 7 of the genies that work at that Spells R Us place (all of them are named Kevin and we just tell them apart by the color of their suits. So there’s Red Kevin, Brown Kevin, White Kevin, Blue Kevin, Gray Kevin, Green Kevin and Yellow Kevin), The Manager (not his real name but he doesn't give that out to just anyone), Jeannie the Genie, Robert Khavar, The Trickster Prince Kaululaau, Madame Deveaux, Peter Hookline (formerly of a certain not-so-fictional island and yes, he grew up eventually. Moved to an island full of bikini babes and let some Indian kid take over his gig. He’s actually the CEO of our main office but that’s rather a long story), Detective Matt Clockwise of the Reality Police, and of course good ol' Zoltar. I'm not counting the entities. There's that one Halloween maze that is somehow sentient, and I don't even like to think about it because it's so unsettling. I’m not in the know for everything. How the fuck does that even happen? A living Halloween maze? Fuck that shit. That thing is just plain creepy, and it does NOT like to make friends. I’m the most recent inductee of The Male Transformation League, or MTL for short. There are others in the League, but those are the ones I’m friendly with.

Who am I? I don’t like for people to see me, or speak of me. I don’t like to interact with my victims much. But for the purposes of this particular account, you may call me Buster. My full name now is Mr. Buster Trader. Because I like to bust guys and…yeah it’s an obvious meaning when you think about it. 

Oh. And here comes the best part. Watch with me. 

A strange look comes over Charles's face. It's that look I live for. Because you see, I don't reveal myself. Others in the League like to. I like to remain quiet in the corners of restaurants, bars, classrooms..and wait. My work is simple and I don't plan on explaining anything. They don't know who I am and that is fine with me. I remain anonymous. I am in contact with people here and there, I ask who I can trust to keep my secrets and my spells tell me who won't go sharing things they shouldn't unless it's to find me another victim. It's my ultimate joy to punish and reward. I am a god. And tonight is a very special night. 

His face looks around him, disorientated. 

"Where am I? Who are you?"

"What do you mean, who am I? I'm your fucking wide receiver, dummy." The big college jock laughed it off but Charles face was still blurry from the ride. Generally it's quite exhausting for a soul to transfer while in a conscious body. It's a bit of a thrill for me. The others all have different methods for making the transition easier but I am a bit more cruel. I don't give warning. I just yank them out of their lives and give them another. Charles's arms steady him on the table as he stands and scoots out of the restaurant booth. He isn't sure if he's dreaming or not. 

"I was in my room. I know I was. I think...I don't know how I got here. Why do I sound weird? Am I sick?"

"Hey guys, is he kidding us?"

"I can't tell, Charles is usually confused more by tests than real life. Hey Charles, you feelin' all right buddy?" Three jocks looked at him. "Charles. CHARLES!" 

"Uh...are you talking to me? My name isn't Charles. Hey. My arms. Hey, waitaminute." 

From his perspective, he walks to the bathroom and steps in not expecting to see the image of a man who for all intents and purposes like every magazine or internet stud he's ever jerked off to. The man he could never be is now staring at him, mimicking his every expression, touching his face as he touches his face. 

"No. No way." he looks down at his chest, at his arms. Feels them for the first time. 

But just a few moments before...

Now meet my Chosen One. This is Billy. Billy is someone I followed for a while. I pick who I change carefully. Billy had a very hard life. Thrown out of his parents house for being gay. Lived with an aunt for a while and then off to college, on his own with no hope of moving in with anyone in his family ever again. The parents died in a car accident just a few months after throwing him out. He has no siblings. The aunt is poor. She can barely pay her bills and she told Billy she did her duty, but that if he wasn't a Christian he couldn't stay with her. Oh, foolish woman. That was her loss, because now I have a soul perfect for my needs. Billy is so sad but amazingly keeps up a positive attitude, in spite of having lost nearly everything.

"Ehhhh. I dunno. I think I might have to cast a fire spell."

"Another one? What are you, a Charmander?"

"Wrong game, and shut up. I keep rolling under 5! This game could not be any worse. I need more points here."

Young Billy is playing some kind of meticulously dreadful board game. I transported back and forth, watching him and watching my prey. I also was able to find someone in Billy that had a connection with my client, the one who wound up in an alleyway. That will be important later. It gets me off the hook of getting involved.

"Dude, I'm so fucked. I can't get out of this fucking swamp!"

"So get a protection spell, duh."

A look comes over Billy's eyes. He spaces out for a second and then sits up on the bed.

"What the fuck? Where are my friends? Where am I? How did I get here?"

"Uh, is this part of your character?"

"Who the hell are you? Why does my voice sound so weird?" Billy's body walks only just a few steps before seeing himself in a wall mirror. He is confused at first. That can't be a mirror. It must be some kind of illusion trick. "What the hell is that?"

"Dude, are you in character? I'm seriously confused right now. Are we gaming or not?"

"What the fuck are you talking about? I don't play fucking board games. I have way better things to do with my time. Oh my god. My arms! What happened to my arms??!" He is screeching now. His booming voice is gone. His voice is high pitched and tinged with panic. He grabs the door handle. This is a house he doesn't know. He sees a bathroom across the hall and walks in and sees himself in better light. The reflection doesn't lie.

"Oh my god. Oh my god! I think I'm having some kind of drug trip! THAT'S NOT ME!"

"Dude, you don't do drugs. That I know of. Did you take any drugs?" The fat nerd beside him asks.

"No. I never do drugs. Coach would fucking kill me if I did"

"The coach of what?"

"Of the football team, what else! And where the hell am I?"

"You're in my house."

"Where's your house?"

"Dude, are you okay?"

"NO! I'm...That's not me. That's not my reflection. Is this some kind of trick mirror? My arms! My chest! Oh my god, I am...I'm someone else. I was just sitting with my buds in the diner and now I'm here and I'm in some total nerd's body and I'm totally fucking puny WHAT THE FUCK! I worked out for years! Where are my muscles! Where's my face!"

"Okay, okay, I think I'm gonna drive you home. Or to a hospital. I'm not sure which."

"I just need to get back to the restaurant. Can you take me to Happy's Diner?"

"Yeah, I guess. So you don't know who I am."

"I have no idea."

"Dude, if this is an amnesia spell you just invented that is totally going outside the rules."

Charles's spirit looks out from Billy's face at the fat nerd in total disbelief and frustration.


I go back to the diner. I can't be in two places at once, after all. The jocks are freaking out because they think someone slipped their friend some drugs and they are thinking about taking him to the emergency room and two of them debate it, saying that it could get him thrown off the team if anyone thinks he took drugs voluntarily. One of the jocks (I don't know their names and I don't care. All I know is they are all hot, and that's really all I need to know) calls his pre-med girlfriend and they bring him out to the parking lot for some air. It's night, and there's a nice cool breeze. It's a warm autumn night. The jocks are telling Charles his name and he's taking it well. The one dude's girlfriend arrives and performs a check on him. For a bunch of partying assholes, they actually do look out for one another. Maybe I won't turn the rest of them into animals or animal hybrids for my amusement.

"I don't think he has any hallucinogens in his system. Whatever it was might have just caused some dizziness." She lists off a few medications including anti-depressants that could cause him to temporarily zone out. "But my guess is Ambien," she concludes. "It would explain the amnesia delusion or why he called himself by a different name. It's like he's dreaming. He has all the symptoms and his body checks out, it's not narcotics. Go home and sleep it off, Charles. I'm sorry this happened to you."

"Who do you think gave him Ambien?"

"I don't fucking know! Let's just get him home so he remembers who he is and shit." The jocks consult each other and decide not to talk about this with anyone.

In the car again with the nerds.

"I'm not Billy. I told you. I'm Charles Strickland."

"You're actually not, and I still think I should take you to the hospital, dude. You're telling me you switched bodies with someone..and you don't really look like the football type. You don't know anything about football."

"Then how would I know..." Charles-as-Billy starts talking football and it goes over my head because I don't care. Fat nerd seems to be unnerved.

"Dude, maybe you have like, another personality or something."

"No, I just had my body stolen and I'm trying not to freak out. I'm too fucking mad to freak out! When I see me, I'm going to have a long talk with him. Me. You know what I mean. I have to fix this."

They get to the diner and no one's there. New Billy asks about the jocks and the waitress says one of them got sick and left with his friends, who took him home.

"Shit," says new Billy.


Charles lives in a rather large guesthouse built on the property of another house. It's a nice bachelor pad and his reward for his senior year. No more dorms. Just all the bitches he can fuck, and the ones that don't want to fuck he just wants them more. I don't know if he took liberties with anyone else, but New Charles is alone now. His bros told him not to go anywhere, and to just stay there the rest of the day. It was Saturday tomorrow and he didn't need to go anywhere.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my GOD. My arm..."

New Charles is much better than the old Charles. Old Billy is now noticing his body for the first time. Before it was like his mind was wrapped in cotton. Now that he's alone and walking around, he realizes that he is wearing enormous clothes and that he somehow fills out those clothes. It is such a strange sensation to much of him. To be able to feel big. Really big.

"Oh my God, this is amazing! I bet I could life like a hundred pounds totally easy! Wait, or more. I never lifted anything before. God, this is incredible! And my voice! My voice! Testing with my voice! This is my voice! Hey man. Hey, you wanna go back to my place and FUCK?" Old Billy looks at himself in the mirror and the overwhelming joy crawls over his face. Incredulous overwhelming joy. He rubs his face. Perfect stubble. He then remembers to check down below. His hand pats over a rather large bulge. "No way." He undresses and sees a godly cock twice as big as his old one, maybe bigger. "HOLY SHIT! This is real. I'm a stud. I'm a huge stud. My name is Charles uh, something. Oh man. Oh man, I wonder if this guy has a phone. Of course he has a phone. Duh. Okay, where is it?"

I watch as he tries to call himself, looking at himself in the mirror, smiling stupidly. They always look so dumb when they first swap.


In the car with the nerds again. New Billy doesn't have Billy's phone on him, but luckily the fat nerd is there, and he gets a call from someone he doesn't know.

"Here, could you answer this?" He hands New Billy his phone.


"Oh my God, is that me?"

"Oh shit. OH SHIT. It's me! It's my body! Is that me?"

"Yeah. Is that me?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm at your house. Is Guillermo there?"


"My friend. This is his phone number."

"Oh right, yes."

Guillermo! So that's the fat nerd's name! Well now I know. Not that I care. This part is always so delicious.

"Uh, so I guess you should come over?"

"We're already on our way, we're about five minutes from you. What's your name?"

"Billy. And you're Charles, right?"

"Yeah. And I want my body back. Did you do this?"

"No! I thought you did it!"

"Me? Why the hell would I want to give up my body? Have you fucking seen me? I'm a fucking stud! I mean, most women would die to have sex with me?"

"Now I know you're crazy," Guillermo says. Ha! I like Guillermo.

"Shut up! Look, I'm not leaving tonight without my body! There has to be something you did that made us switch bodies. You're the ones with the spells and shit."

"Dude, those aren't real spells. It's Dungeons and Dragons. I don't have any idea how you swapped bodies with someone. Holy crap, I can't believe I'm actually going along with this." Oh god, I love the fat nerd friends. They are the best.

"Yeah," New Charles says in his husky voice. "I don't know how this happened."

The car drives up and the moment of revelation has come. I gleefully smile invisibly as New Billy arrogantly gets out of the car. The door opens from the guesthouse. The man himself is there. New Charles. He looks like a god in his silhouette against the light.

"Hey, Guillermo!"

"Oh, shit. Please tell me this is all a joke someone is pulling on me. Like, you can't tell me that you are him and this is nuts, you guys. This has to be a prank."

"Guillermo, it's me. It's Billy. I was just playing D&D with you!"

"Nice to meet you, Billy. I'm Charles." New Billy looks way up at his former body. "Jesus, you're fucking short, dude!"

"Not anymore!" New Charles laughs. "Oh. Sorry."

Inside they go over details to convince Guillermo that it's really Billy. New Billy tells him he wants his body back, threatens him. And then that moment. Oh, that moment. That moment! I love that moment. That slow smile. New Charles stands up. Towering way over New Billy. Crosses his arms.

"Oh yeah? Or what? You gonna beat me up? I'm fucking HUGE now! I mean, look at these muscles! And you think you could beat ME up? That's like that one game where I was a paladin and I tried to take on a dragon emperor."

"I don't know WHAT THE FUCK THAT MEANS!" New Billy yells.

"It's not from DandD. It's from-"

"Shut up!"

"Don't tell Guillermo to shut up. He's nice!"

"Dude, how does it feel to be like, a Ranger now?"

"Oh my god it's so awesome. I wish you knew how it felt. It's like I'm me but...more. I wanna go running! I wanna lift stuff! I wanna play sports even!"

"Yeah, I'm good not knowing how any of that feels."

"Look. We need to switch back. Do you know how to play football?"

"Kind of. Sort of. I mean I've watched it for the hot guys." New Charles laughs.

"Wait, you're gay?"

"No I said hot guys because I'm straight."

"Technically you're in a new body now, so doesn't that mean you guys swapped that as well?"

"I...I don't think so."

"How do you know?"

"I uh..I used it. You know. Your um, I got excited earlier. So uh..."

"Wait, why would that aspect not change?"

I live to fuck with people, and I'm a fucking wizard, Guillermo. That's why.

"You touched my dick?!"

"No, I touched my dick! And it's really big now!" New Charles says giddily to Guillermo.

"Look, I know I'm not into dudes and if you do anything gay in my body I will find a way to get even with you so don't even think about it! I'm going into the fucking Marines after I graduate!"

"Uh, gays are allowed in the military now so maybe you shouldn't be so homophobic." New Charles says.

"Yeah and I'm gay too, so no offense dude, but I'm the only friend you have right now and I don't really feel like being disrespected."

"It's not about that! Okay well it kind of is. Army guys you kind of expect that but not Marines. Marines are not cool with gay. If I switch back and everyone thinks I'm gay, I'll never get laid again!" New Billy shrieks.

"He does have a point. Except about the Marines, because I think you need to be more open-minded. But we don't even know how to switch back. I mean, what do we do now?" New Charles asked. No one had an answer.


The next part was my turn to shine. I went to my client. I teleported into her dorm room. She was shocked. I smiled my slow smile.

"How did you do that?"

"Magic. Because that's what I am. It's done. I swapped your gay little friend and your rapist. It's all yours now."

Her jaw drops. "You...really are. I thought..."

"You thought I was full of shit and that you were just getting me to go along with a fantasy. No, it's real. I swapped their bodies. You'll have to tell them it was because of what he did. Now here are some ideas..." I told her the basics. "Well, I'm beat. I'm off to Casablanca for some lunch." I teleported out of there, leaving her in a state of shock. She just watched me disappear, after all. Of course, I lied and I'm going to stick around to watch all the suffering and pain.


She comes over that night. New Billy decided to stay with New Charles for a night. They were tired and just about to go to sleep, New Billy taking the couch because he was small enough to fit on it now, and New Charles taking the comfy queen sized bed.

"You? What...what are you doing here?"


"I'm just here to have a little chat with you. Charles. And hello Billy."

"Hey, she knows who you really are!" New Charles says. "So. That means..."

"I did it."

"Wait. You two...know each other?"

"I'm someone that knows him but we aren't really friends. But he helped me a lot with my physics homework. He's a very sweet guy who has been utterly shit on in life so when I decided to take your body away I gave it to the person who I thought deserved it the most."

"But why? I mean, thanks and all, but maybe you should put us back."

"No. It's a one way ride. Once you swap, you can't go back."

Good girl. Make the bastard pay. Oh man it's sinking in. I see his face fall. He's just beginning to realize this is his life now, as some puny little bitch. God, this is great!

"You mean we're stuck like this?" New Charles cried out.

"Why the hell are YOU so upset? I'm the one that should be upset? You're the one with the fucking body of a REAL man! I built that body up for YEARS! You HAVE to give it back to me!"

"Or what? You'll fuck me while I'm unconscious again?"

"What?" New Charles whispered. "What did you say? What did you do to her?" he said, horrified.

"He raped me. And now you get his body. Because that's his punishment. And, what's more you are going to help Charles with football and make sure he adjusts to his new life."

"Or what? What are you gonna do to me?"

"Switch you again with something worse. See, I can't switch you guys back but I can switch you again with someone new. Maybe someone in a wheelchair would like your body. Maybe an 80 year old man."

New Billy's eyes grow wide. I like this girl, she's a keeper. If I was straight...or mortal...or lived in this dimension...

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!" New Charles roared. Ah, the testosterone is flowing with this one and he is just getting a surge of it. Probably has never felt this powerful before.

"I didn't know! I thought she was awake! I was drunk! I'm sorry! Please!" The begging continued. The girl stopped New Charles from killing his old body.

So it goes. New Billy moved in with New Charles. It was better that way. And I made them both gay for a reason. Can you guess why?

"You ready to do another set on the bicep curls."

"I love the bicep curl machine!"

"Yeah, it used to be one of my favorites as well." New Billy said somewhat sadly, oogling his old body. At this point, he had been trying to hide and suppress his homosexuality for a full ten days and it was starting to slip. All the awesomely hot guys in the gym made him horny beyond belief. He was constantly getting hard but luckily his clothes loosely draped around his skinny frame making it harder to notice. Not so with New Charles with every muscle tense and bulging. 

After the workout it was time to go home and go over football maneuvers. New Charles came up with an excuse to take a week off from practice, saying a relative had died. New Billy was crash coursing New Charles on football. Of course his body had a lot of natural memory to it and New Billy found he could only describe it, not do it. Practicing outside, New Charles was a natural. The guesthouse was near a farm so there was a lot of land to practice as he jumped and leaped, ran with the football and went over plays and positions, and memorized as much as he could about defense and offense. He was a quarterback after all. 

"Alright, get inside. Time for you to make me some dinner." New Charles said. He had adopted a newfound cruelty to New Billy, and amazingly it had taken only a few days for New Charles and Katie to understand that they could turn New Billy into a practical slave for the two of them, under threat of swapping him with some 80 year old in a home shitting himself. I might have given her a few ideas. 

New Billy now served New Charles in every way. He made his meals, prepared him in the gym and gave him all his old routines, introduced him to fitness nutrition and supplements, gave him information about his life, his family, his friends. Everything he needed to know. New Charles didn't feel any sympathy or love for the coward that had taken advantage of his friend, and being morally outraged he had developed a quite natural and lovely streak of dominance. He didn't ask New Billy to do anything. He ORDERED it. It made me want to jerk off all the time as I watched them. God, nothing was hotter than watching a nerd turn into a muscle stud and then really become a dom. His entire personality was changing. Of course I wove part of that into the spell, but still. So hot.

"I want you to chop some wood later." 

"But...can't you do it? I mean, you have all the big muscle now." New Billy shyly looked away from New Charles. 

"Did I say I wanted to do it?"

"No, I just..."

"When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it. Do you understand me? HEY! LOOK AT ME, NERD. DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND. ENGLISH?"

"Yes. I'll go. I'll chop some wood. I'm sorry." 

"Yeah, and you're gonna be sorry if you ever say no to me again." New Charles said, stomping over and grabbing New Billy and pinning him against the wall, his legs dangling. "Maybe I oughta show you some respect. How would you like it if I rammed my big cock in your little ass, like you did to Katie? Huh? Would you like that, huh? Huh? Holy shit, you would. You're fucking getting a boner! Ha! What the fuck, dude! I thought you said you were straight!"

I was finished pouring a mixture of sex appeal, dominance, arrogance, and feelings of justification into New Charles. Now it was time for my dessert. 

"I...I don't know anymore. I get excited sometimes, that's all.." New Billy whined. 

"OH, you get excited, huh? You get excited by me? By my big fucking muscles? Huh, nerd? You like that? You like big muscles? WHY DON'T YOU LOOK AT THAT UP CLOSE?" New Charles shoved New Billy's face into his armpit. He grabbed his head and didn't let go. 

New Billy whined. 

"Say you like that. Say you like feeling my muscles like a good little bitch."

"I do okay! I do! I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me!" 

New Charles took him up by the hair and removed his hand so he could take off his belt and pants. "Take off your clothes. NOW. I'm gonna fuck you like I wanted to the first night I swapped bodies with you. NOW! CLOTHES! TAKE EM OFF!" 

New Billy complied, getting naked with his tiny three inch dick getting fat and hard and he dreamed of New Charles. 

"Let's just get one thing straight. You are a faggot. You are my faggot. You don't talk about this with anyone, especially not Guillermo or Katie. You are going to take my cock up your ass and you are going to do everything I say from now until the day you fucking die. GOT IT?"


"Call me sir," New Charles said as an afterthought, then grabbed New Billy and swung him around, pinning him on the floor and ordering him to fight back. New Billy did but he was no match for a man so much larger and bigger. New Charles laughed at the pathetic attempt and ordered him to put his ass in the air and slipped his big dick in after grabbing the lube from the nearest bookshelf and giving it a good squeeze. 


"Good. I'm glad. You're nothing but a little bitch now. How does it feel? Cause it feels good for me! OH YEAH! SO THIS is what's it's like ohhhhhhOOHHHHHHH!" New Charles had never had sex before and now that he had a powerful Olympian body he couldn't help but give in to its carnal urges. For New Billy it was agony getting his cherry popped by an enormous 9 incher. But as much as it hurt, it was important for New Billy. He had been dreaming of this moment. But it was like having a cucumber shoved up his ass. He never imagined the pain and indescribable joy of having his first rectal orgasm. Now New Charles was using him, ramming him repeatedly like an animal, and it hurt like hell. He finally shoved the nerd off his dick and ordered him on the floor to open his mouth. He wiped his dick off with a rag.

"How about you worship me now? You may jerk off while sucking on my foot, slave."


"Yeah, you pretty much are my slave now. My slave for fucking life, bitch! You're gonna do this for the rest of your days as my personal bitch. You got that?"

"Yes, sir."

"And after that, you can suck my big ol' dick off again and then make me something to eat. Like a good bitch."

"Yes, sir."

"Yeah, you're gonna swallow my jiz like a girl. And I want my laundry done by tomorrow morning, nicely ironed."

"Yes, sir."

I honestly could watch this for days. I pour my heart into my projects. I know you probably have issues with it, but let's be honest, Old Charles could have gone to prison and gotten this but it's sooooo much more satisfying this way. Instead of five years in prison, he gets to be a sex slave for life. If that isn't satisfying, I don't know what is. 

For the record, I'm always up for a new challenge. Tell your friends about me. The name is Buster Trader, and I love my job.