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.

Monday, July 25, 2016

The Reality Police

Jeremy was a scrawny young lad. I viewed him with the same glee I did any of my other victims. He was British, artistic, fey, and I was watching him. It was my newest assignment. But more on that later. He was talking with his friends in some fruity little cafe. Scene:

"You should go to London with us this weekend. Go to the clubs. Get laid, for fuck's sake." Jeremy's friend Kevin told him.

"Nah. I need to stay here. It's just not my thing."

"Nothing is ever your thing."

"That's not true. I just...I like to live in my imagination more than actually doing those things in real life."

"Well that's fun. Seriously, you need to live a little Jeremy. I mean you're not bad looking."

"I know that."

"You never do anything with any guys."

"I'm happy the way I am."

"No you're not! You're always wishing you were someone else."

"That's...hard to describe. I mean, I would love to be someone else. Someone masculine. Someone confident. But I'm not. I'm me. I like kittens and My Little Pony and I don't have a very high sex drive."

"What you're saying is you can't change, you just like to imagine. And you're fine with that."

"It's more like, I know reality, and reality sucks. Reality will always suck. I'll always be this way, and I can't be any different. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go put rhinestones on some T-shirts I'm selling."

"You're hopeless."

"Have fun in London!"

Jeremy walked home, wishing with typical fervor about being various other people. I licked my lips in anticipation.

"Excuse me, are you Jeremy Flynn?"

He stopped in his tracks. He had the cutest Harry Potter sans glasses look to him. Like Daniel Radcliffe but thin and a little gayer. Scratch that. A lot gayer. No stubble.

"Yes, I am. How do you know me? Do you know me from uni?"

"Yes, in part. I just got here," I said, and he thought I must have meant a plane. My accent was very flatly American. "If I could have a moment of your time, I have a job offer for you."

"Really." His brow furrowed.

"Please. Come into my office. My name is Matt. Matt Clockwise."

He followed me in the building, not knowing it was a construct of time and space and we had passed into a dimensional slip. He couldn't go back to his normal dimension even if he tried. My office was in a loft, 30 foot tall ceilings, tall windows. Bicycles hanging from the walls, antiques from my collection decorating the room. He stopped to admire a vase.

"Is this Chinese? I looks old."

"It's a Ming vase."

"You're joking."

"Jeremy Flynn. Age 23. 140 pounds, 5'6". Homosexual with low sex drive. Heavily bullied in school. Sister's name: Jennifer. Mother's name: Amanda. Men you have been sexually active with: 1."

"Okay, who are you? I thought this was for a job interview."

"In a manner of speaking. That's part of it. Have a seat, Mr. Flynn."

"No, I think I'm going to go." I smiled. So cute.

Jeremy walked downstairs and out into the open street. People walking across the street, including a woman walking her dog and several children were stopped mid-air. A woman was pouring coffee on pause in the cafe.

"Did I mention that you're not going anywhere? Or anywhen?" I said, approaching him from behind. "Let's go back upstairs, buddy."

He had this look on his face like he wanted to bolt, but my voice was authoritative and carried with it a strongly persuasive bent to it. Also I could stop time. He followed me back up to the loft and sat down, not taking his pretty boy eyes off of me. "Mr. Flynn, I've been selected to tell you that you are in violation of several key crimes for which I am personally assigned. It will be up to me to determine your sentencing and rehabilitation."

"Okay, you're crazy. I don't know how you know me but..." I silenced him by moving my finger as he was talking mid-sentence. Put him on automatic mute as it were. His eyes bugged out.

"You finished, buddy? Good. Now, shut up and listen." I watched him as he tried to talk fruitlessly. "The Reality Police have judged you to be a noteworthy case of crimes related to our jurisdiction. Essentially you have spent your entire life complaining that you don't like your reality. So it is up to me to take your reality away from you. You can talk now." I ran my hand through the air again.

"Okay. I'm officially freaked out. But whatever it is you think I did I didn't and-" I moved my finger through the air and we were suddenly standing over a scene in a high school cafeteria.

"Watch yourself here."

"I wish I could be like, really tall. This is as tall as I'll get." Fast forward. Kids sped through the scene over a few days. "I wish I could talk like a tough guy. I'll never sound tough." Fast forward. "I hate my voice." Fast forward. "I hate my life. I wish I could have a different reality. One where I was a natural jock." Fast forward. "I wish I could just push a button and become like, a boxer or something. I don't want to even be a boxer, I just want to want to be a boxer." Friends laughed at him. Fast forward. "I wish I could just act all manly by pushing a button and then go back to being me. I like being me and all. I like being silly and funny but I also hate everything. I wish I could look like this guy." The last scene was not in high school but rather at Jeremy's house as he watched porn with a friend.

"Okay, I get it. Can I go now? I don't like this. I'm sorry for complaining."

"Oh, it's not just a matter of that." I waved my hand and we were back in my office loft. "See, it's in your thoughts, too. You hate reality. You have a resentment of what we do, of the order we create. You don't think your reality is good enough."

"No, I to pretend!"

"I think what you need is a lesson. We're done here, buddy." I waved my hand.

"Ugh. What happened?" Jeremy woke up on his bed. For some reason there was a skateboard next to his bed.

"Jeremy, you're late for rugby practice! Put a move on!"

"Rugby?" Jeremy wandered to the bathroom mirror. "My voice. My body. What in the hell?"

I watched with fascination as Jeremy spent the day slowly understanding I'd given him a new rugby based life, with a mind chock full of jock information. He played with his new mates and they celebrated another good day of practice. He felt a new comfort with his body in the locker room, something he never felt before. His new body was a little improvement on his old one.

"What did you think of today?"

"I loved it. I mean I'm kind of surprised. But, can I go back now? To my old life?"

"Your OLD life? Tsk tsk, no Jeremy. We're just getting started." I smiled evilly. I love my job. Matt Clockwise doesn't just choose anyone for punishment. "Now, you've often complained about not being manly enough. The rugby was a good start, but let's up our game."

"No, please. I'm done here. I appreciate the chance but-" I flipped my hand and he disappeared.

"Alright, champ. Let's start."

I watched once again as a hapless Jeremy found himself a boxer now. He was filled with testosterone now. I watched his coach and him practice. He was terrible at first but then as his new programming kicked in, he began to get the hang of it. I popped in as his gym session was over while he was changing in the locker room. He showed no shame over his junk, and was strutting a bit, just a bit as he saw me.

"Hullo, mate."

"How was today?"

"Great. I don't really have to fight anyone, though. Do I? You're not goin' to make me, right?" I had given him a lower class accent in comparison to the one he had before, and his voice was huskier.

"You like those new muscles, lad?"

"Who are you calling lad?" He shot back, in kind of a swishy gay way, batting his eyes. "I love the feeling, though! It's terrific! Look! I'm so...manly!" He giggled.

"I don't think I'm satisfied entirely that you've learned anything." I waved my hand and Jeremy was suddenly in the ring.

"Hey, no! I only started practicing! Come on, Mr. Clockwise!" The bell rang and his opponent came in. I watched from my seat completely entertained. He was dodging like a girl at first, running away from his opponent, some huge Russian monster a head taller than him. "Please, I'm sorry I complained about reality or whatever!" The crowd started to boo him for running away like a coward. Then, he found himself responding automatically as the Russian beast came right at him and he put up his dukes in defense, then aggressively fought for his life like a maniac. He did two rounds and was a beast mode now. See, for each life I give him, he has to initiate it by giving his own personality up in lieu of the new one I'm giving him to replace it. Then the changes come. Delicious changes. Jeremy, like the Hulk, felt anger enter into him and he snarled and poised himself and like a cobra stuck the Russian in a three punch with one fist two punch with the other knockout. The larger man went down and the crowd roared.

In the celebration afterwards, I found him at the pub, happily helping himself to a pint.

"Wait a minute. I don't drink beer!" New friends of his laughed as if he'd said a funny joke. I was right there reassuring him.

"You do what we tell you to do. If I say you're a boxer, you are. You have no college degree now, by the way. Your rent is overdue and you are always begging sponsors for money. It's kind of pathetic how they love you one minute and the next you're nothing more than dirt. But that's the life you always wanted, huh champ?"

"Please, mate. I just want to be a real man. I didn't want to give up all I had."

"Does it look like I give a fuck?" I smiled cockily. "Let's see, how many times have you wished you were raised in America..." I waved my hand and he disappeared...

 Jeremy blinked.

"Shit, what happened? Hey, my voice! It's different. I sound like..."

"You're from Texas? Well you are. Welcome to your new life, cowboy!"

"Aw, shit, mister!"

"Now when you're ready to make your next change, just think to yourself that you want to give up who you are and embrace your new body's personality."

"I ain't gonna do it again! Ya'll can't make me! I just want to go inside and watch cartoons and...and...find some glitter or something!"

"Oh Jeremy. You have a job to do. Now get to work." I snapped my fingers and vanished. I watched him that day. He didn't realize that being a cowboy would be such a demanding life. His parents owned a ranch and he was saving up to go to college. The US was a different place and in this life he didn't have the test scores he needed. His new parents told him to wash the truck, and he got a hose. He couldn't find any stuff to clean the truck with so he went ahead and gave the approval to welcome in his new personality but he was fighting it.

 For part of his new job, he had to talk with people about animals. He liked animals and wanted to take photos of all the baby animals he saw, and wanted to skip around like his normal self, but his body kept self-correcting. He would begin to skip around like a sissy and then his body would take over and force him to walk like a confident cowboy. He started to strut his stuff as he walked around and eventually took his shirt off. It was a hot day and he was so hot! Why should he deny the world a look at this fucking stud body?

I showed up after he was loading some farm equipment.

"You seem to be fitting right in, partner." I mocked him.

"Ya'll gotta do somethin'. I don't wanna do all this. I mean I like all the baby animals but I ain't even allowed to talk to girls about how cute they are. I don't have any girlfriends I can just be gay with!"

"No, you can't be out. You only sneak out for illicit gay sex when you can. You meet guys at truckstops, mainly. Pretty hot stuff, if you ask me."

"I just wanna go back home to England, ya'll gotta send me back!"

"I don't have to do anything. You haven't really learned that much yet. Tell you what. I will grant you one change."

"I don't wanna live with those people. It's weird havin' parents that aren't my own."

"You don't want to live with parents and you'd rather be on your own."

"Please, it's so weird. And I have all these chores to do! I'd rather if I hafta be a cowboy to do it on my own terms!"

"Alriiiight," I said, drooling over the possibility.

Jeremy found himself with another cowboy with a mustache.

"Alright, hon. Will see you later, bud."

"Will do, sweetheart." Sweetheart? A bristly mustache touched his own handlebar ever so briefly. The two got out of their truck. Jeremy's hand went to his new facial hair. "what...I..." He walked back to his pickup truck. His husband walked into the store in which he was an employee. Jeremy leaned over the rearview mirror and saw he was now middle aged!

"Hey there, Tex!" I said, taunting him.

"You made me old!" He shouted at me, rather immaturely.

"I made you better. I like this side of you. It's more rugged."

"I am not doing this anymore," he crossed his arms and swayed his hips rather effeminately.

"That husband of yours loves to pleasure you in the sack. I think it's time we try out a new sex drive for you. The minute you're ready."

Jeremy's new job involved similar tasks to the ones he had, but now he was running a ranch. He was in charge of the numbers, of every aspect of buying animals and feed. He gave in pretty soon because he had people calling him and had no idea what to tell them. His new personality was rather different. More forward.

"No, I don't want that by Tuesday. I need it by Monday! Get it together, and make sure it's on time. I don't want to take my business elsewhere but I will if I have to. Thank you." Jeremy hung up the phone. Being a cowboy was a lot more business oriented than he ever imagined. After an entire day of hard manual labor and management, he was ready for his new husband to come home and suck his dick!

He had never had sex the way he did when Kevin got home. He outright fucked Kevin, whose hole was smooth from years of taking it up the ass by his amazingly perfect 7 inch dick. He had never considered topping before but the minute the tip of his dick hit that ass he was in heaven.

The next few days I let him be a confident older man. I let him be in charge of his relationship with Kevin, a total man's man with clients, a competent businessman employing and directing ranch hands.

"Well, how do you feel?"

"I feel like a new man!" He shook my hand confidently. "I never want to go back to being a young man again. I absolutely love this life. It's hard work, but I love it."

I snapped my fingers. Jeremy reverted to his original personality.

"Oh my god, you have to make this stop! I have dirt inside all my fingernails! Look at my nails! They are so disgusting!"

"Oh, poor thing." I gave him a sarcastic sad face. "Alright, cowboy. You have one thing you can change."

"I want a college degree back! And to be educated! Everyone here just talks about beer and country music! Like none of them read anything! And okay, my husband is hot, I would like to kind of keep him but I don't know if I want to top anymore. I don't know if it's really me and..." I froze him.

"You want a college degree? You got it!" I waved my hand.

Jeremy found himself in a party filled with affluent people.

"So, Jeremy. Why don't you give me the skinny on those stock options. You keep telling me you have something big waiting just for me. Well, I'm waiting." Jeremy realized he had something in his hand with smoke wafting from it. The only thing he ever had that smoked was incense. And some kind of hard liquor in a small bottle.

"Well, I..." His new voice was gravelly. He was wearing a suit. "Excuse me, I'll be right back." Jeremy excused himself and with a panicked look on his face found a way outside the vicinity of the party and I was right there waiting for him. He caught his reflection in the mirrored reflection of a large glass window. "Is that me? I look like someone's dad. And look! I can't smoke cigars! They're...gross!"

"I have at least 12 instances of you wishing you could be a cigar smoker."

"Well, I changed my mind! I can't smoke this thing! I don't even know how to smoke! And I can't pull it off! I mean, honestly, do I look like the type of guy that smokes cigars," he said with his hand on his hip in the gayest possible way. "Oh well, I suppose I do, but you know what I mean. Sir, please. Please just let's forget about this whole thing and send me back to England. Pretty please?"

"Welcome in your new personality, Mr. Flynn. You have business to attend to." I smiled and disappeared. I watched as he fretted and looked at the cigar like he didn't even want to hold it.

"Oh alright! Fine!" He stomped a foot and then the new personality started to kick in. "Mmm." Jeremy brought the cigar to his mouth and took his first drag. "OH god, that's good."

"And that, gentlemen, is why this business deserves your attention right now. Biomedical advancements in sending nano-machines into the bloodstream requires a lot of investment but it's going to be worth it. Imagine the future."

"I'm sold. You give a good presentation, Flynn."

"That's what I get paid the big money for." Jeremy smiled confidently in his new husky dad-voice.

After Jeremy drove his new sports car home, his new personality took over. He was confident. More so than any other personality. The boxer was constantly worried about his future but let his primal anger rule in the ring. It was savage and satisfying but ultimately a scary existence. The rugby player was fun but dumb and all his friends were boring. The first young cowboy was closeted and hated being controlled by his parents all the time. And the older cowboy resented being in a place without any culture.

I spent several days watching him as he drove himself all the time as a workaholic devoted to high end finance. He was a man who inspired other men and fired them as well. He was merciless to those that didn't make a profit and cold in his philosophy. He didn't give a crap about anyone that wasn't in his business or that didn't make him any money. He smoked cigars confidently every day and walked around like he owned the world. I popped in for a visit.

"So tell me how you like your new life."

"I love my life. I'm in charge of everything. I rule. I snap my fingers and someone jumps. I don't answer to anyone except the IRS. I could buy and sell most lesser men. I don't need you to change things at all. I'm pretty confident I've found the place I need to be. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a very important meeting to attend to." I snapped my fingers and Jeremy's original personality was returned to him.

"And now?"

"OH my god, he doesn't care about anyone!" He whined. "He doesn't even like cartoons! He thinks they're for children! He looks down on anyone who watches them. And he hates glitter! Take me out of here! I can't spend my life like this!" He sounded like he was on the verge of crying.

"I'll let you change one thing."

"Well I want to love someone! He doesn't even have any friends!"

"Oh, I can do that. Well, bye!" I waved my hands and his personality went back into business mode. That night as he got home he disrobed and his boy toy, a fresh faced young man still in college showed up.

"Hello, sir."

Jeremy lit up a cigar and inhaled deeply. It was so satisfying.

"Yes, boy. Did you do all your chores today?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what do you think Daddy would like you to do for him?"

"I think you'd probably like me to suck your big cock, sir."

"Very good, boy. Why don't you get to work on that?" Muscles suddenly inflated as his boy sucked on his big dick, and he grew proportionately bigger than his smaller "son".

Jeremy was so much bigger than his college boi, who he had an arrangement with. Kevin was a good boi, and he was in agreement to be his willing servant in every way. If he told him to do a list of chores, he expected them done. Jeremy was totally in charge in the bedroom as well as the boardroom. Kevin could take his big dick without any gagging and was absolutely subservient. If he clapped his hands, Kevin was on his hands and knees begging his Lord and Master to give him instructions. Kevin was taken care of as long as he did every single thing he was told.

"That's right. Suck Daddy's dick. Suck it like you worship it, bitch."

After a few hours of using his toy, Jeremy sent his boi bitch to make his dinner. He lounged on his couch as I popped in.


"He's such a hot piece of ass. You want a piece of my dick, too?"

"Tempting, but I'd like to talk to Original Jeremy." I snapped my fingers.

"Oh wow. I'm a Daddy. This one"

"You like this time? You actually approve of one of my lifestyle choices?" I mocked him slightly.

"It wasn't...terrible."

"I'm so glad you approve."

Jeremy, in his dominant alpha male form, crossed his legs effeminately. "I just had never experienced anything like it. I mean, I just don't like the order giving. I'm so mean."

"You're a dom. You're supposed to be fucking mean. It turns your sub on to service you in every way. He's only happy if you're happy."

"But that's the way I used to be! That's me!"

"I reversed it. Sue me."

"I wanna go home, sir." Jeremy whined.

"You want to go back to England. It's possible."

"And I don't want to be mean. It's not me. I just want to give men their fantasies. I want to make THEM happy." Jeremy's alpha gravelly voice really did not gel well with his Original Jeremy personality.

 "You know, I think all of those things are possible." I waved my hand.

"Oh, god. Oh god!" Jeremy found himself feeling better than he ever had before. He was built. Huge. Muscles covered his frame like he never knew were possible. His dick was a machine. He came into his partner's mouth.


The porn shoot took a break while Kevin licked his lips and savored Jeremy's cum.

"Nice one, Jeremy. You always have the most delicious loads."

"Th-thank you."

Jeremy excused himself to a dressing room so he could gape at his new size. He suddenly wished his personality away. He adjusted. He realized he was in a porno but he was in shock from how big he was to the point where that was actually more enveloping his thoughts. They were on location in England for the next month or so. He was booked as an escort every day and his British clients were willing to pay much more than escorts made in the US. He was a very hot rent boy due to his fame within the industry. He was a very big catch and richer men often rented him for upwards of $1000 an hour.

I left him to his non stop fuck sessions. Jeremy reveled in his gym workouts, in his size, in the sheer feeling of sexually empowering other men to newfound heights of joy. Sometimes they wanted to be in charge, sometimes they wanted him to be in charge. Sometimes they wanted to worship him, sometimes they wanted him to be a cowboy, or an executive, or a rugby or soccer player. There were so many fantasies and he fulfilled them all and they begged for more. His dick was the hottest property imaginable. One man bought him a $30,000 Rolex.

He had made so much more money as a rich executive when he was one, but this was somehow the happiest he had been out of his many bodies.

"Okay, moment of truth." I surprised him after he got home one night. "What do you think, pumpkin."

Jeremy was silent. His Original Personality was in place.

"I'm...amazing. This body. The men. The sex. I never knew sex could be like this. It's...heaven."

"You bring joy to other men."

"But I do miss my old life. Sort of. But...these muscles. I could never have muscles like this before. Men worship me and I make them happy. I never knew it could be like this. I'm making them happy but in a different way, in a physical way's like I'm the ultimate fantasy. Me."

"You are a cum machine."

"But...I don't have any other career options. I have a major in theater but this is what I got with it."

"Actors shouldn't be picky."

"Yeah, I'm never gonna break into Hollywood. Not with my resume."

"Well. I think ten years more of being a rent boy should suffice."

"Ten years?"

I snapped my fingers and the new Jeremy personality took over.

"Do you want me to thank you, Mr. Clockwise?"

"Yes, I do. Get on your knees. You're going to suck my dick, Mr. Universe."

Jeremy smiled and he started working on my dick for the first time. I smiled blissfully as my dick engorged in his perfect mouth. Did I ever tell you I love my job? 

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Authoritarian Muscle Growth Story: Wesley and Master Ed

A few people have asked me why I didn't have a Father's Day story for you guys. Well, to celebrate this Father's Day I wrote a much longer story than usual, which you can view NOW over on the Evolution muscle website:

Synopsis: A young adoptee and his stepfather begin an authoritarian relationship (authoritarian, muscle growth, muscle theft, master/slave themes) No violence.

I picture Master Ed as looking like this, minus the cel phone (the story takes place before they became popular for the most part)

Monday, May 30, 2016

Myostat Syndrome Stories - Brian and Me

February 19, 2040

As I write this journal entry, I am so scared because I thought it would be so different. Brian has been diagnosed with Myostat Syndrome. Brian. Little fucking Brian. 

I always thought I’d get Myostat and get all buff by the time I was 12. I was always bigger than most of the other kids. Myostat cases are only 1 in every 200 kids now. They peaked in the 2020s so when I was growing up in the 2030s all these kids were getting buff. Like, we’re talking in the 8 to 14 range. They look like adults, but they aren’t, they are still just kids inside. It changed society for a lot of reasons because they passed the Myostat Adult Equivolency Act. If you have the body of an adult, you are free to join the military if you are 10 or over or get a job if you are 13 or over, with the approval of your parents.  It sucks. The statistics shot way up so that it was almost 10% of all the kids in that age range. That meant a twentieth of schools were not children, but adults walking among children. Well, those that didn’t join the army. And Myostat only affects boys. And not just any adults, but superhuge adults. 

I admit I didn’t take it well when I didn’t get it. The statistics had already dropped to 1 in every 100 kids again. My school only had three “men” and they kept to themselves. No one in the 7th or 8th grade dared to bother them. 

I decided to go after Brian because no one liked him. He was such a dork. The little fag liked ballet and hung out with girls because they liked having gay friends who could talk about dresses with them. I fucking hated his guts for pretty much the reason he always had these witty comebacks when I called him names. Every time I tried to make fun of him, it backfired. 

There were days when I shoved him into walls “accidentally”. I mean, how could I not? It got a laugh from all the other kids. We went to school in a rural area and our school district couldn’t afford an anti-bullying program. They had a robot guard for a while but the kids sabotaged it and they had to scrap it. And with all the wars we have fought, the school budgets are always being cut so they don’t really mind bullying these days. Bullies are usually secretly given perks by the gym coach. He gives us more food rations for our families if we do well on track meets and he overlooks our “fun” with kids like Brian.
Anyway. So one day we beat him up because we wanted to show other kids who was boss of the school. The Myostat kids no one bothered didn’t really throw their weight around except one named Rock, and we all deferred to him whenever he showed up. But he didn’t say anything when we bullied other kids. He just told us his “little” brother, who was actually older than him by a year, was off limits. That was our only arrangement. He didn’t participate because he said it was too easy to throw us little twerps around and he preferred to hang out with real men. 

I should also point out that we had nothing against gays. I mean, most Myostat kids turned gay because the two went hand in hand. And Myostat was genetic for the most part, though 1 in a 100 Myostat kids could actually “breed” other Myostat cases, but only past the point of puberty. But because you had to fuck them, it was looked at by many like an STD. And it works on anyone male. Myostat kids with the gene to fuck other men into muscle studs were rare. I actually asked Rock about it when I got tested and they said I didn’t have Myostat, and he said he didn’t have the gene so I couldn’t get it from him. Still, it happened. Parents who were desperate for their son (14 or older) to have an advantage would find a handsome Myostat “kid” or Myostat adult, who could fuck their kid and turn him into a huge muscle stud in just a few months. It was also a reversal because normally you could only contract Myostat Syndrome if you were under 15 but you could get it from someone that had it if they were an adult and had the gene to pass it along. The government had eventually taken steps to make that illegal to fuck to get Myostat for pay, but it happened if you had the money. And it wasn’t illegal if you claim it as an “accident”. It is estimated that a full 25% of the adult male population over 18 is of bodybuilder class.  Most of those are former Myostat kids, grown up (as it were). The obesity rates had risen to 40% by the 2020’s so many think the government secretly engineered Myostat to combat the epidemic and unleashed it on the public without their knowledge. Today only about 33% of the males over 18 are obese. We are truly a nation of alpha and beta males.

None of us were really making fun of Brian for being gay. We were making fun of him for being an effeminate poofball who minced around like a fairy. He was just too easy to make fun of.

Then one day, he didn’t come back. Then we all heard he’d been diagnosed and the rumors started to fly. We heard his parents paid for it. We heard that he just had the gene and it was dormant until the age of 13, which did happen. Usually it happened sooner, though.
Then we heard he was moving. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Feb 21, 2040

Only…the thing about rumors is they are sometimes just rumors…this is what happened today. I ran into this guy who looked like he was a high schooler but with the body of a soldier, so I thought he was one, at first.


“Well well well, if it isn’t the little fairy.”

“What? Are you talkin’ to me?”

“Yeah I’m talkin’ to you, FUCKHEAD. Who else is around?” I looked around. This huge dude was talking to me and all I was doing was taking a walk. It was Saturday. No school. Most kids were inside playing holo games or at sports practice. I was taking the day off from baseball to go for a walk and quickly wished I hadn’t. 

“Look dude, I don’t want any problems.”

“Dude? Do you know who I am? Take a better look, loser.”

I did. Oh god. Oh no. No!

“Yeah. You recognize me now, pencil dick?”


“Yeah. It’s me, twinkle toes. God, you’re so fuckin’ tiny now.” Brian’s voice rumbled. His face was still so angelic but his voice was rich and thick and had dropped considerably. He started to walk towards me and I turned and ran like a coward. I heard him laugh. “I’ll see you at school on Monday, tiny!”

This was a nightmare. I tried to convince my mom to send me to another school and tried to explain it, but she wasn’t having any of it. She hadn’t been too happy to learn about my antics, and I admitted just a little bit of it. She said I’d made my bed and could lie in it. Besides, assault was still illegal. She told me not to worry. 

Mom didn’t know how schools worked anymore.

When Monday came the school was abuzz and Brian made his debut. Suddenly, he was everyone’s newest best friend. A few kids came to him about “protection” from bullies and he kept them in his circle. He had a circle of people around him at lunch just eating out of the palm of his hand and waiting on every word. I observed from a distance.

I thought I was safe for the day. Gym was my last class and I stayed long to do inventory check with the coach. I was doing it because he could talk to the high school coach about getting me on the team next year, and besides which he was the one who let me get away with the most shit, especially in the locker room. I’d bully kids frequently and he would just look the other way. “It’s the way of the world, strong dominate the weak,” he said once. Like I said, schools didn’t have the money for anti bullying programs anymore and with the war, society didn’t really give a fuck anymore. That was just so 2010s. 

So I was dressed and coming out of the locker room and there was Brian, leaning against the wall. 

“Hey, man. Wanna talk?”

I immediately ran. He was too quick for me and from behind he threw me onto the ground and laughed. I tried to get up and he had me in a vise like grin. He still looked 12 in his face because the Myostat hadn’t progressed to give him facial hair yet, but he would look 30 in a matter of months. He picked me up like a grown man would pick up a five year old. 

“So little. Isn’t he, boys?” My three best friends were there, looking stunned. He had chosen them to be there. They were looking at the ground or up at me with apologetic looks on their faces. “See, things have changed a little bit, haven’t they Short Stuff?” He grinned at me, just inches from my face. He gently put me on the ground and then with a violent shove on my back send my face into the dirt. I choked as I tasted dust and spit it out. Brian laughed. “Am I enough of a fairy now, boys?”

“You aren’t a fairy. We never said that!”

“Yeah. We never said that!”

“Shut up,” he ordered. My friends…well, former friends, shut up.

“I’m sorry,” I sputtered. 

“Yeah, you’re sorry. Sorry doesn’t really cut it, bitch. I want revenge. So listen up.” He yanked my shirt and lifted me up into the air with one arm and lifted me above his head, and casually talked. “I’m in charge of this school now. You don’t tell anyone what to do, ever. Your reign is over. I’m the new king. You got that, FAGGOT?”

“Y-yes. Please don’t hurt me!”

“Please don’t hurt me!” he cried in falsetto, mocking me. “God, what a fucking PUSSY. You’re more of a pussy than I ever was, at least I never begged you. I fucking straight up told you to leave me alone. I mean my voice was a little bit different but honey, I’m gonna make you my personal bitch from now on. So when I show up to school tomorrow you’re gonna carry my books for me like a girl would. You got that, princess?”

“I don’t want to-“ I whined. He put me down and smacked me across the face. I collapsed to the ground, dizzy. My former accomplices backed up in horror.  “Say no to me again and it’s another smack. You want another smack, sweetie?” I got up again, meekly looking down at the ground.

“N-no. Please!” I cried. I begged. 

“You’re my new bitch. SAY IT.” He crossed his huge arms. 

“I-I’m your new bitch.”

“Call me “boss”.”

“Okay. Boss.” 

“Good, now call me that tomorrow. In front of other people. I’m your new boss and if anyone asks, just say it’s a joke between us.”


“Good. Now see boys, that wasn’t difficult. Your little hero is now my bitch. Isn’t that right?” 

“We could all take you if we worked together,” I spat out bitterly. 

“No, you really wouldn’t. See, I have the gene where I can fuck any man into a bodybuilder.”


“Sorry, man. He promised to fuck us in a few years if we become his friends and back him up.”

“More like my minions,” Brian laughed. “They’re my friends now, wimp. And for you, all you can hope for it to leech off of my popularity. You’re not gonna be on any teams next year. You won’t try out for anything in high school. I’ll be the new jock and you’re going to be a big nobody. If you even try out for sports, I’ll make sure you regret it and no one will care. It’s totally legit for Myostat kids to be on sports teams as long as both teams have equal numbers and you know that everyone who is Myostat plays football around here. It’s tradition, after all. I’m gonna be the best, and you’re gonna be no one. Say it.”

“You’re gonna be the best and I’m gonna be no one, boss.” I cowered in fear.

“Good. Now get up. Tomorrow you’re gonna give me your lunch that your mommy makes you. I need more calories than you, shithead.” 

I sunk in fear. How far would this go? How much would he own me? Brian snapped his fingers and my former friends jumped at his command and followed him. “Let’s leave the little pussy to cry himself home,” Brian said laughing. I heard my former friends laugh with him. 

August 10, 2040

So that’s my story so far. I’m starting high school next week. I’ve spent all summer as Brian’s personal servant. I do his laundry. I clean his room. We tell his mom it’s because he’s protecting me from bullies. I follow him around like a girl. Brian’s dad is a soldier and with him away, Brian is the man of the house. He’ll drink beer and I’ll be doing his chores. Then one night he wanted something more. He wanted me to suck his dick. You can’t get Myostat from oral sex if someone has the gene. You can only get it through anal sexual or blood contact. He actually shines a flashlight in my mouth every time to make sure I haven’t cut myself in the hopes of his cum infecting me via my mouth. He orders me to suck his now enormous dick. Now I’m just a faggot. He calls me faggot when it’s just us. He chuckles as he plays gay porn and forces my head down, choking me with his manhood.
Oh, and as for ballet, he is still really into it, but of late he’s entered into the realm of ballroom dancing. Every woman in town wants to fuck him now and the ladies at the dance studio love him. He has fucked several women. Some high school girls, sometimes their moms. But he’s mostly into men. He has men lined up to get fucked by him. He’s turned several into Myostat gene carriers. You see, the going rate for being fucked by someone with the gene is about 100K. Brian has enough money to last him well into his 20s. He now has adult bodybuilder friends who he hangs out with at bars and clubs. I’m just his suckslave. I think his mother knows and looks the other way. I think she knows everything that has happened and has no sympathy for me. Here’s my Boss with one of the guys who worships him. He’s gay but hasn’t been “initiated” yet. He doesn’t have the money for a fuck session to give him the Myostat gene so he is “working it off” by doing all sorts of favors for Brian. He works for the police and makes sure Brian can get away with bullying anyone in town he wants to. This picture was taken in late May. Brian was able to grow facial hair by this point, making him look older and definitely more imposing than he was already.

As for me, my name isn’t important. I’m not important. Only Brian matters now. Brian calls the shots. My only shot at escape is to get good grades on my SAT. I’ll be spending most of my time in high school studying books like a nerd. Maybe I’ll be able to join the army when I’m 17 and can do so legally. But for the next four years, I’m just Brian’s bitch. My name is Bitch, or Faggot, or Fuckhead. 

Oh and this was Brian by the end of summer. He’s matured since May, you see. He can legally smoke and drink, or do anything else a grown man has the legal right to do. His hair receded a bit, making him look more like he’s in his 30s.

“Hey, Faggot. Make me my usual sandwich. I’m hungry.”

He’s always hungry.

“Yes, sir. Turkey and swiss. Right away, boss.”

“Good faggot.”

That is our relationship now. I have to say that as much as I hated it at first, the last four months of school and three months of summer vacation being Brian’s bitch has taught me my place. Brian has taught me that I am indeed a faggot. I do enjoy sucking his big dick and I realize that I only made fun of him before because I was secretly gay. I now am happy to have a real man like him in my life. He has taught me that other men and women will beg him for his godhood, and I get it for free. I am grateful to him for showing me the errors of my ways when I was a bully, and I will never do so again, as he has ordered me not to.
Don’t feel sorry for me. I actually am at peace with being his bitch. It’s almost a load off. He has banned me from gaining any muscle at the gym and I am to watch as superior boys become men before my eyes as the years pass. All my friends will be able to work out but I will not be allowed. I am to suck them off if they tell me to at any point in the future and at least one of them, who I must call Boss as well, has decided to take up the offer. He was once my friend, once my minion who jumped at the opportunity to bully kids with me or for me. Now he orders me to suck him off and laughs at me. 

I was not one of the chosen and I never will be. I am Brian’s bitch. I say it a hundred times in the morning and a hundred times before I go to bed. I must. Brian has me wake up in the morning with my mantra and before he goes to bed he wants to hear it. I also must say it whenever we are alone, first thing. I am Brian’s bitch, I am Brian’s bitch, I am Brian’s bitch…this is my life and it’s who I am. Would you like to meet Brian? I know you’re the new gay kid at school and after you came out, Brian really wanted to talk to you. Yes, he can make you huge. He’s willing to do if for free, yes. Yes, I will probably suck you off as your bitch, too. But only if my Boss Brian is okay with it. 

There he is now! Hello, Boss. Yes, sir. 

Well, it looks like I’ll be calling you Boss as soon as this weekend. Yes, sir. I am a faggot. Thank you, sir. 

I hear the sound of laughter but to me it’s just any other day being Brian’s Bitch. The laughter means nothing like it used to. It just means I’m the lucky one to be given the honor to serve. Can I get you something to drink, Sir?