Main themes: Cock shrink, cock growth, weight gain, age progression, age regression, humiliation, piercings, tattoos, silicone, butt growth, feminization, straight-to-gay, hair growth, hair loss, mind control, reality change, musk, neutering
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Chapter 1
Jesse met up with his bros, Tate, Edwin, Kyle and Jake, at the gay bar near the university on a sultry June evening. Even though they weren’t gay, they were supporters of the LGBTQ+ community and were there on a mission. Their soccer team captain, Jairo Ribeiro, had the idea of entering them in a date auction to raise money for a local shelter for at-risk youth.
“It’s for a good cause, guys!” he’d cajoled, punching Jesse lightly on the arm before catching him around the neck in a bro headlock. “And, besides, I have a bet with the football team that we’ll raise more money than they do.”
Jesse had laughed and pushed him away. He had no problem with being some dude’s date for an evening if it meant showing up the football team. Those guys were a bunch of arrogant pricks who needed to be taken down a few pegs. In the end, Tate, Jake, Kyle and Edwin agreed as well and Jairo had signed them up online.
They were conscious of the friendly attention they received as soon as they walked in. All eyes seemed to turn their direction as the predominantly male crowd took in the sheer magnificence of the soccer jocks. Jesse had to admit he liked the attention because women were never quite so appreciative. He felt his self esteem rise considerably and he squared his shoulders, displaying his impressively ripped physique. He was glad he’d chosen to wear a tight rainbow tank top for the occasion. (I gotta display the goods if I’m gonna beat those football fuckers!)
“Whoa, look at you studs!” Jairo laughed, sauntering up to meet them with a beer in hand and his beautiful girlfriend, Flavia, on his arm. “You remember Flavia, don’t you?”
Who could forget her? She was the most beautiful woman Jesse had ever seen and he both envied and hated his bro, Jairo, for snagging such a gorgeous piece of pussy. The fact that Flavia was Brazilian only made her more desirable.
He shook Flavia’s hand (to which she unexpectedly responded with a hug and a kiss on the cheek) before allowing Jairo to guide them over to the bar. He ordered each guy a beverage and leaned back against the counter, surveying the crowd. Somewhat shier than Jairo, Jesse sipped his Budweiser and covertly checked things out. The bar was dimly lit but he could tell it was packed. Everyone was not only celebrating Pride Month but also excited to be back to partying in big groups now that they were vaccinated and the pandemic was hopefully coming to an end.
“It feels great, don’t it, man?”
Jesse looked over at Jairo, smiling and dipping his head. “Yeah, fuckin’ awesome! Thank god for the vaccine!”
He was about to say more when a troupe of five hulking brutes pushed past them after exiting the stage. His mouth went slack when he saw what they were wearing. They were practically naked, clad in only the tiniest posing straps imaginable. To a man, they were incredibly ripped to the point of being bloated and steroidal. He wasn’t gay but even he couldn’t help ogling their oiled-up and completely hairless physiques. Those massive shoulders, tiny waists and incredibly swollen thighs! He blushed when his gaze dipped down to their crotches and he saw the pattern of their thongs was military camouflage. And, even more embarrassingly, their pouches were basically empty. In fact, each man barely had a bulge to speak of down there. They were smiling vacantly, almost as if waking up from a dream.
“The ROTC guys,” Jairo commented, following Jesse’s attention. “Their auction just finished.” He tipped his beer and took a long swallow, shaking his head. “Almost raised as much as the football team.”
Jesse froze, the gears in his mind ticking through the implications of what Jairo had just said. “Jairo, wait! We’re not–” His voice died in his throat as the cadets passed so close he could feel the heat emanating off their bodies. The tips of his ears went red when looked down and saw them from behind. Their big, bare, smooth bottoms were obscenely perky, the floss of their thongs disappearing between cheeks so swollen and full, they could only be called voluptuous.
“You were saying?” Jairo prompted, grinning at Jesse’s reaction.
Jesse shook himself, tearing his eyes off the spectacle of those balloon-like cakes. He turned to his friend in panic. “Jairo! We’re not gonna, um, you know…”
“What? Get naked?” Jairo snorted with laughter. “‘Course not, bro! But, ya know, it wouldn’t hurt if ya showed a little skin. The bidding went wild when the ROTC dudes stripped down to their little thongs and showed off their bods. I mean, you wanna beat the football team, right?”
Jesse’s heart was pounding. He didn’t know what to say. When he consented to do this, he hadn’t thought that he might be asked to strip naked.
“Relax, bro,” Jairo soothed, placing a big hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “You don’t have to do anything yer not comfortable with.” When Jesse didn’t respond, he goaded, “C’mon! Yer not feeling inadequate after seeing the ROTC dudes, are ya?”
Jesse sputtered, “What!? No!”
But actually he was feeling a bit inadequate. He was nowhere near as ripped as those dudes. He had a nice body, sure, but he wasn’t a bodybuilder. He did, however, have one thing they apparently lacked: A big dick. Even then, he could feel it fat and full and heavy, filling up his baggy boxers.
“Don’t worry,” Jairo said, squeezing his shoulder. “Yer in good hands. They’ll fix ya up real good before ya get up on the auction block. You’ll fetch a pretty penny, I swear!”
Before Jesse could ask him what he meant by that, a red light flashed on the stage and a tall, Rubenesque drag queen stepped out in front of the crowd. She was decked out in a red, low-cut, taffeta dress; sequined platform heels and a bouffant wig. Her long, fake eyelashes were caked with mascara and cherry-red lipstick covered her full lips.
“Many thanks to the fine boys of the ROTC. They certainly were generous, weren’t they? Giving up way more than they got,” she purred, casting a lusty glance at their deparing backsides. “Make sure to show them and their big booties a good time, huh?”
This was met with a chorus of cheers from the crowd and the emcee nodded, her lips widening into a wolfish grin.
“In case ya just got here,” she announced, “I’m Madame L’Bia Droulx and I’m your host this evening.” This was met with sporadic clapping and she bowed graciously before continuing, “Next up, we have the soccer team.” She paused to look over at the bar where Jesse, Kyle, Tate, Edwin and Jake exchanged nervous glances while Jairo put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. Madame Droulx laughed and beckoned to them. “C’mon, boyz! Now don’t be shy! Step up here to the auction block!” To the crowd, she added, “Who’s ready for the next round? Who’s ready for the hottest guys yet? WHO’S READY FOR THE MARSHALL STATE SOCCER JOCKS???”
The audience roared their approval and everyone turned to look back at them, the crowd parting to make way for their entry to the stage. Jairo clapped Jesse hard on the back and shoved him forward, encouraging, “Got ‘em, Tiger! Show ‘em who’s the sexiest beast alive!”
Jesse stumbled forward and started toward the stage when he stopped and turned back to Jairo. His friend was still leaning against the bar, muscular arms crossed and a proud smile on his face. “Wait, Jairo!” he called. “Aren’t you coming with us?”
“Nah,” the big jock replied, laughing. “No one wants to bid on an ugly troll like me. I signed you guys up because yer the hottest dudes on the team. Now go out there and knock ‘em over!”
Stricken by this news, Jesse stalled and would have fled if Tate and Kyle hadn’t grabbed his arms and hauled him along behind them. Before he knew what was happening, he was standing up on the stage with his buddies and Madame Droulx, the spotlights blinding him.
The crowd went wild, causing Jesse and Edwin to shrink back in dismay. Jake crossed his arms and studied his feet. Kyle, the strong-jawed, would-be model, was predictably aloof–Kyle was always aloof! Tate was the only one of the five who was unbothered. In fact, the little jock was actively lapping up the audience’s adulation. He paraded back and forth before the crowd, flexing and posing to demonstrate his undisputed masculine virility. At one point, he even kissed each of his rather modest biceps. It was almost embarrassing and Jesse looked away. Beside him, Edwin scowled and muttered under his breath. Edwin was the opposite of Tate in many ways, hating to be the center of attention.
Fighting back rising panic, Jesse shielded his eyes against the glare and stared plaintively across the darkened room toward Jairo. He could just barely make out the outline of his friend as he raised his beer bottle in salute before settling back against the bar next to Flavia. Jairo appeared to be having the time of his life.
“Well, well, well,” Madame Droulx breathed into her mic, sashaying around the five guys while raking them up and down with her lascivious gaze. “I do love me some USDA prime beef.” She turned toward the audience, asking, “Who’s ready to sink their teeth into some brotein?” The crowd cheered, throwing their hands up in the air and clapping wildly. Madame Droulx chuckled to herself and Jesse swallowed uncomfortably. He tensed when she placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
“Ah, yes,” she purred in his ear, “you must be Jesse Carter. According to your profile, you’re the quintessential boy next door. An honest to goodness, corn-fed Midwestern jock who grew up on a farm just twenty miles from here. What’s it like bein’ in the big city, Jesse? You look a bit wide-eyed. And straight. Where’d ya get those old cargo shorts, darlin’? They’re baggier than my tits! You know yer here to get bid on, right?”
Jesse’s cheeks were pink and he was quite tongue-tied. Even though he knew that Madame Droulx was just teasing him, he felt like she’d read him like an open book. He swallowed, feeling his big Adam’s apple bob up and down. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He was trapped! Madame had him by the arm and her eyes were locked onto his; it was impossible to escape.
“Tall and muscular,” the drag queen observed, moving her hand downward to clasp his bulging bicep before sliding it down further to squeeze his not-so-bulging buttock, “but not much of a caboose, I see. And here I thought all soccer players had amazing asses! Have you been skipping leg day,…bro?”
Jesse knew he should push her away but he could only stand there frozen. Worse, when he tried to muster the anger for an indignant reply, he found himself stammering, “N-N-N-No, I don’t! I always do legs!” It was a blatant lie; Jesse was religious about his upper body regimen but had never done so much as one squat.
Madame Droulx smirked, clearly not buying the lie. The crowd howled and pushed toward the stage, their delight at his discomfort palpable. He shifted, willing himself to look away from the drag queen but was unable to move a muscle. Sweat trickled down his broad back, pooling on the waistband of his shorts and running in rivulets down the crack of his (modest) ass.
After what seemed like an eternity, Madame Droulx released him, chuckling heartily as she gave his little, tight butt one last pat. Sauntering over to Jake, she commented over her shoulder, “So adorable! Our Jesse clearly needs a man to take charge.” Jesse’s ears turned beet red as the crowd laughed. He looked desperately over to the bar where he could feel Jairo’s eyes glued to him. His buddy smiled in the dim light, lifting his beer again. For some reason, Jesse relaxed, his face even breaking into an uncertain smile.
“Awww,” a deep baritone called out from the throng. “Don’t worry, Jesse! I’ll take care of you and yer little ass, babe!”
“Only if you place the winning bid,” Madame Droulx tsked archly, wagging a finger at the unseen man. “And I can tell that once I’m done with him, Jesse will fetch, ahem, top dollar.” For some reason, the crowd laughed at this but before Jesse could think more about it, the madame had Jake in her clutches. The jock was dressed modestly in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. His brown hair was freshly trimmed and he wore glasses, telegraphing his intelligence; Jake was by far the smartest guy on the team.
“Ah,” she breathed into her mic as she rounded the hapless Jake, “the prettiest of the lot.” (It was amusing to watch Kyle’s indignant reaction to this; Kyle fancied himself the most attractive of the quintet.) Madame continued, “You must be Jake Ochoa, the team’s rear guard.” By this point, she was standing behind him and, leaning in close, clapped her hands over his butt (which bulged out noticeably in his tight-fitting jeans) and squeezed, causing Jake to jump. Hoots and catcalls echoed through the bar; the audience was eating this up.
“Um, I’m a fullback,” he corrected quietly, “rear guard is a football position.”
“Yes, I see,” Madame Droulx all but moaned, massaging his perky ass with her hands. “You really do have a full back!”
Jake was flummoxed. Like Jesse, he clearly wanted to bolt but he was so startled that he could only stand there in stunned disbelief as the drag queen manhandled his buttocks. Gradually, his cheeks went from pink to red to flaming crimson.
“You need to learn how to relax,” Droulx continued, finally stepping back and releasing the nervous jock’s buns. “I hear you’re a 4.0 student who plans to attend law school after graduation next spring. Have you ever considered taking a break and, you know, doing something less mentally strenuous? Maybe put yer brawn to work instead of yer brain?” She reached up and ruffled his neatly-trimmed bangs as she said this, eliciting coos of delight from the crowd.
Jake’s ears were red by this point but his polite demeanor never cracked. That was one thing about Jake: He might be the smartest guy in the whole university but he never put on airs. His charm and kindness were almost as legendary as his good looks, academic skills and athletic ability.
After an uncomfortable silence, Jake managed to croak, “Uh, isn’t that what, you know, soccer’s for, ma’am?”
Droulx waved this off, flouncing her red feather boa over her shoulder. “You know that’s not what I meant, stud. Wouldn’t it be fun to let that amazing bod of yers have a little fun in the sun? C’mon, Jake! You’ve earned a break!”
Turning to the audience, she motioned to encompass the entirety of Jake’s body. At six foot three, he was the tallest of the five jocks. Broad-shouldered and muscular without being overly so, he possessed a coiled grace like a great cat getting ready to pounce. It was this grace that made him one of the best players on the team…in addition to winning the hearts of more women than Jesse could count. Jake, however, was as abstemious as he was brilliant and had been single for more than a year. When asked about it, he said he needed to focus on his studies and a relationship would just be a distraction.
When Jake made no reply, Droulx shook her head, nearly causing her towering wig to flop off her head. “Tsk, tsk. Such a beautiful boy, too. Don’t you think, folx? Isn’t it time for Jake to put his ‘fullback skills’ to good use?”
As the audience hooted their approval, Madame Droulx gave Jake one last wistful glance before heading over to Kyle. Tall and rugged and broad, Kyle was the most arrogant–and by far the most masculine–of the five jocks. He wore an expression of polite disinterest and his wide stance was one of practiced ease. That was the thing about Kyle; he always projected an air of unapproachability, like he was there to be admired but never touched. Right then, however, he wasn’t fooling anyone. Jesse knew him well enough to know his friend was pissed and uncomfortable. Like Jesse and Jake, he was no doubt reconsidering his decision to participate in this event.
“May I present Kyle Rupino for your adoration?” Droulx called out to the crowd; her tone was sneering. “Kyle here does double duty as a soccer jock and lacrosse stud, don’t you, Kyle?”
Kyle regarded her coldly. When he spoke, his voice was a deep bass that reverberated across the stage, instantly gaining everyone’s attention and respect. If you couldn’t already see it from looking at him, the mere sound of Kyle’s voice was a reminder that he was a true alpha. “That’s right,” he rumbled. “And don’t you forget it.”
The madame smiled but it wasn’t a friendly expression. “Doesn’t he just think he’s the best, folx?” She turned to the audience, motioning for them to give Kyle a big round of applause. They obliged but even Jesse could tell they were mocking the big stud. Droulx smirked, waiting for the clapping to die down before she reached out and caught a strand of Kyle’s thick, brown hair. (He backed away from her in distaste.) “Look at him!” she cooed sarcastically. “Dark hair and icy blue eyes! Thick stubble, cleft chin and a robust build! I ask you, folx, is there a man studlier than Kyle here?”
Jesse noticed that Kyle subtly puffed up at being called studly even though it was clearly meant derisively; the tall jock squared his shoulders and smiled imperceptibly. He didn’t condescend to reply to her, though.
“We have plans for you, Mr. Rupino,” Madame Droulx whispered into her mic, “BIG plans, my friend.” Was it Jesse’s imagination or did this sound ominous?
The words hung in the air for a moment before Droulx laughed heartily as if she had just told the most amusing joke. The audience laughed as well while the five jocks on stage looked on in puzzlement; they had no idea what was so funny.
Tate was next. Unlike Jesse, Jake and Kyle, Tate was eagerly awaiting Madame Droulx’s attention and all but pranced across the stage when she approached.
“My, my!” she exclaimed, running her taloned fingers over the short jock’s tight body. “You’re so sinewy, you could get stuck in my teeth!”
Tate laughed, clearly tickled. Lithe and lean, he possessed a runner’s build which made him one of the best strikers on the team. Standing just shy of five feet eight inches tall, his small muscles were etched against his porcelain skin. He was smooth and clean-shaven; even under the best of circumstances, he could barely grow any stubble. With pale, blond hair he had sparkling blue eyes and a cocky smile. His confidence was legendary and the rest of the guys on the team were envious of his ability to land any girl he wanted in bed.
He was also up on gay slang, something he demonstrated with his next comment. “That’s right guys,” he bragged, “I’ll bet yer bottom dollar that I’ll give ya the ride of yer life tonight!” To drive the boast home, he provocatively thrust out his crotch. Unfortunately for him, he clearly lacked Jesse’s size down there; his modest bulge was barely visible against the fabric of his tight-fitting shorts. Jesse smiled to himself, secretly pleased that at least he outranked his friend in one key area.
Madame Droulx watched his display with a wry smile, drumming her nails against her chin speculatively as she mused, “Hmmm, he crows like a rooster, folx, but does he have the cock to back it up?” Some people in the crowd snickered but she waved dismissively, continuing, “But no matter! By the time we’re done with the Big Tater here, he’ll be able to please even the most demanding size queen!”
Jesse, Jake, Kyle and Ediwn exchanged confused glances as the crowd roared with approval, breaking out into deafening applause. Tate seemed blissfully unaware of the strangeness of the comment as he savored the audience’s attention, puffing out his narrow chest and strutting around the stage like a prize rooster. What a little peacock! Jesse thought, rolling his eyes. It’s the little guys who are always so full of themselves.
“And last but not least,” Droulx continued, turning her back on Tate’s antics to capture Edwin in her sights, “we have Edwin Simmons, the richest and most conservative of our boys here. What do you think, Edwin? Isn’t it time you loosened up a bit? Are you ready for a trip to the wild side?”
Despite his fear of the huge drag queen, Jesse had to admit that Madame Droulx’s observations were on point. Edwin was notoriously uptight, wearing outdated preppy clothing–a light blue cotton sweater was draped over his shoulders and he wore a pastel plaid, button-down shirt with khaki shorts–and horn-rimmed glasses. He carried himself with a hauteur that was legendary on the team, exuding an air of superiority. As the president of a very illustrious fraternity, he only dated girls from families with impeccable pedigrees.
And talk about fastidious! Jesse had never seen Edwin break a sweat, much less get dirty. Even when they played in the mud, Edwin emerged spotlessly clean and perfectly coiffed. That night, his long, brown hair was oiled and swept back over the top of his head. At just under six feet tall, he possessed a classic mesomorphic physique, muscular yet not too stocky. His complexion was flawless and his brown beard was trimmed short.
As Edwin stared defiantly, Madame Droulx loomed over him, tickling his chin with a lacquered nail. Her red lips curved upward in a grotesque leer as he protested, “I am fine just the way I am! Now let’s just get this over with! I’m only doing this for charity after all!”
“Oh, alright, if you insist,” Madame Droulx replied, stepping back and folding her arms across her chest. Her oversized breasts jutted out in front of her like a pair of bombshells. “Since you’re in such a hurry, we’ll start with you. The money you raise tonight will be more than spare change. In fact, I promise that no change will be spared on you at all!”
She motioned to someone off stage and five attendant drag queens emerged, equally as tall and gaudily dressed as Madame. Each of the five wore identically-styled dresses of a single bold color. Taken together with Madame Droulx, Jesse noticed their dresses were the colors of the rainbow.
He didn’t have long to register this because, before he could react, the drag queen in the green dress had taken him by the arm and moved him into a small circle drawn on the floor at the center of the stage. A spotlight zeroed in on him, blinding him, just as the queen affixed a cap on his head. She secured it with a strap under his chin and stepped away.
What the fucking hell?!
Heart suddenly pounding, Jesse looked wild-eyed over at his four friends to see them similarly arrayed within circles around him. Like him, they each had a funny tinfoil cap affixed to their heads. Long wires ran up from their caps to the ceiling, disappearing into a mass of cables.
Of the five, only Tate appeared unphased, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face; as always, Tate didn’t care what was happening as long as he was the center of attention. Quite unlike their narcissistic friend, Jesse, Jake, Kyle and Edwin were in a state of panic. Before any of them could move, however, Madame Droulx flipped a lever on the side of the stage, releasing an electric current that flowed down through the wire and into their tinfoil caps. Jesse’s body instantly went rigid and he froze in place, broad shoulders thrown back and head staring straight ahead. With the guys immobilized, the five assistants rolled mirrors onto the stage and placed them before each of the jocks. They were slanted so each could see his reflection without blocking the audience’s view.
“Alright, that’ll do,” the madame pronounced, pulling the lever back into place. The current turned off and Jesse slumped forward onto his knees, breathing heavily. (What the fuck just happened???) His body felt heavy and tingly all over. After a moment, one of the assistants approached and removed the cap from his head and helped him to stand again. Obediently, Jesse took his place back in the center of the circle. Around him, Jake, Kyle, Tate and Edwin did the same. Soon, the jocks were lined up facing the audience once again.
Jesse noticed his anxiety had mysteriously disappeared and instead he felt numb…and kind of blissed out. He still had no idea what the fuck was happening but it never occurred to him to leave his circle. It was like he was planted in place. What was more, he didn’t seem to care. In fact, nothing really seemed to matter anymore. A soporific feeling flooded his body, leaving him drifting in a gauzy haze. When he looked up and met Jairo’s gaze, his friend pumped his fist and Jesse grinned proudly. He was a good boy who was supporting a good cause!
“Time for the fun to begin!” Madame Droulx announced, sauntering over to Edwin’s side. She turned to the audience, saying, “I don’t know about you but I’m ready for some action!” Cheers rang out and Droulx smirked, leaning toward Edwin. The arrogant frat president was staring straight ahead, almost as if he was in a trance. “Tell me, Mr. Simmons,” Madame purred, “What do you hate the most? Don’t think, just shout it out. You’ve lost your ability to lie now so don’t hold anything back, Ok?”
As alarm bells went off in Jesse’s (muzzy) head at these words, Edwin shuddered and seemed to be struggling to resist Droulx’ exhortation. In the end, though, he lost the battle and all but shouted, “I hate LOSERS!”
“‘Losers’?” Madame repeated, batting her long eyelashes. “Can you be more specific?”
Edwin wrinkled his elegant nose in distaste. “You know, those fucking tattooed and pierced losers who hang out in the filthy bars and drug dens and street corners asking for money. They’re disgusting!”
Madame Droulx looked to the audience, her mouth forming a theatrical ‘O’. Her eyes were so wide her fake eyelashes nearly touched her forehead. “Yes, yes, Edwin!” she exclaimed in a conspiratorial tone. “I know who you mean. They are indeed losers of the worst kind, aren’t they? Those dirty miscreants who refuse to get a job and spend their time in unholy pursuits. Quite disgusting if you ask me!”
Edwin smirked, nodding his head. It was clear he was delighted that he’d finally found a kindred soul who shared his distaste for the riff raff. Jesse was confused, though. What the fuck did this have to do with the auction? Weren’t they there to have people bid on them? If so, why was Madame Droulx wasting their time on such inane questions? He looked over and exchanged a puzzled glance with Jake. Jake met his gaze and shrugged his shoulders, turning back to Edwin and the madame.
“Why don’t you tell us more, Edwin,” Droulx coaxed. “Tell us exactly what you hate about these so-called losers.”
Only too happy to oblige, the frat boy was opening his mouth to reply when he stopped suddenly. There was an audible crack followed by another as his face twisted in pain. “Owth!” he cried. “Whath juth happenth?”
“Oh?” Droulx asked in mock innocence. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Edwin spat something out onto the stage. Jesse stared at it. It was a moment before he realized what it was: Part of the jock’s front tooth! His eyebrows shot up as Edwin stuck out his tongue, reaching up to finger the strange object that had mysteriously appeared in the center of it.
“A pierthing!” he exclaimed. “Youth pierthed mah tongth! Howth isth thith pothible?”
Jesse goggled, realizing that Edwin wasn’t lying: A huge nut and bolt was thrust through the center of the frat boy’s tongue. It was so big that the poor guy had trouble talking, not to mention the hazard it presented to his gleaming white teeth. By the end of the evening, more than half of the teeth in Edwin’s mouth would be chipped beyond repair.
Chapter 2
Edwin couldn’t stop fondling the ugly bolt lodged ignominiously in his tender, pink tongue. His eyes grew rounder by the moment and his pupils dilated with fear. Fixing Madame Droulx with a plaintive stare, he begged, “Whath ith thith? Makth ith goth awayth!”
She shrugged. “Sorry, bro. It’s too late. You signed the auction contract. All changes are permanent.”
“What changes?” Jesse demanded, finally shaking off his disbelief. He might be foggy-headed but he knew that piercings didn’t just randomly appear on people’s tongues. Something crazy was going on here! “What do you mean?”
Madame Droulx turned calmly to him, a calculating look on her face. “Jesse, darling,” she asked airly, “aren’t you horribly uncomfortable in all those clothes? Wouldn’t it be better if you took them off?”
Jesse was starting to tell her to shut the fuck up when suddenly he realized how hot he was. He was burning up! All of a sudden, his clothes were on fire and he couldn’t get them off fast enough. Heedless that he was standing in front of a crowd of people, he threw off his shirt, shoes, socks and shorts, leaving him clad in just his boxers. Somehow, he managed to restrain himself before he whipped those off, too, but it took monumental effort to resist the urge to strip completely naked.
Panting, he stood there with his hands on the waistband of his loose, blue plaid boxers, feeling all eyes in the room upon him. He flushed, his shoulders growing warm, as he looked out and met Jairo’s bemused gaze. The room was deadly silent but, as he stared, his buddy put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly. It was catalytic and soon the whole room was echoing with lusty catcalls as everyone present shouted at Jesse to take it all off.
Tate guffawed when he saw Jesse’s voluminous boxers, calling out, “Jesus, bro! What are ya? An old lady? Nobody wears underwear like that anymore. No wonder ya never get laid!”
Jesse ignored him, and looking imploringly at Jake and Kyle for backup, he begged Madame Droulx, “I don’t know what yer doin’ but please stop! I don’t wanna be naked!”
“And why not, sugar?” the sadistic drag queen rejoined. “You don’t got nuthin’ to be ashamed of from what I can see.” She waltzed over to him, looking him up and down. “In fact, I’d say you got an all-star package hidin’ in there, hon. C’mon, baby, drop ‘em and show us what ya got! The guys here wanna see what they’re biddin’ on!”
Jesse gritted his teeth, resisting the overwhelming urge to pull down his boxers and let his big cock and balls swing loose and free. Fighting the compulsion left him breathless but somehow managed to keep them on. Gritting his teeth, he gasped, “No…won’t…let…you…make…me!”
This was all too much for Jake. His friend came to his rescue, ordering, “Stop it! This is wrong! You can’t do this to him!” He spun around to the hapless Edwin who was still fingering the huge bolt in his tongue, “Or him! I don’t how you did that to them but they didn’t deserve it!”
“Such loyalty!” Madame Droulx cooed menacingly as the audience snickered. “Such a heroic friend, coming to poor lil’ Jesse and Edwin’s rescue!” Jake shrank away from her as she rounded on him. When he got to the edge of his circle, though, he jumped as if shocked, rubbing his arm and wincing in pain. The madame smirked at him, saying, “Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you that you can’t leave the stage until the auction is over. If you do, you’ll be punished. Severely.”
With that, she waved her mic at Jake and he stood bolt upright, arms rigidly at his side. As Jesse and the rest of the jocks watched in alarm, Madame Droulx teased, “Oh, poor, Jakey! It’s so hard being so smart, isn’t it? All that pressure to ace every test and show everyone how brilliant you are! It must be so tiring. How about if you let it all go? How about if you let your smarts drain out of that pretty head of yours? Why not let the head between yer legs do all yer thinkin’ now? You’ll feel so much better. Taste the freedom, Jake! Let it go and just be dumb!”
Jake’s face went white as he realized what she was talking about and he clenched his jaw, struggling to free himself from the mysterious power that held him and his friends at its mercy. Somehow, he gasped, “N-N-No! W-W-Won’t l-l-l-let y-y-y-you t-t-t-tale m-m-my…” And then something strange happened. He exhaled sharply and his body slumped to the floor. After sitting there with his head in his hands for a long time, he staggered upright again and turned back to face the crowd.
Jesse watched aghast as Jake’s normally sharp gaze softened and became hazy, unfocused. His brown eyes grew dreamy as a big, stupid grin spread across his face. It was clear from looking at him that there wasn’t a thought in his vapid head. His glasses lay broken on the floor at his feet; Jesse was surprised how dull his friend looked without them.
What the fuck?! Jesse thought, skin prickling even as he continued to fight the urge to pull down his boxers and stand naked in front of everyone. This can’t be real! This can’t be fuckin’ happening!!!
“That’s right, Jakey,” Madame Droulx soothed. “You feel so much better now, don’t you? Unburdened from all those heady and complicated thoughts. You’re just a dumb jock now. Not a care in the world!”
Jake laughed again, sounding completely moronic. “Huh huh huh,” he guffawed. “Yah, yer right! I feel good. Real good! ‘Cept I’m too hot. Need to cool off!”
When he started to undress, though, Madame Droulx stopped him. “Tut tut, Jakey! Not yet. There’ll be plenty of time to give the folx a show later. Right now, just stand there and look pretty, Ok?”
Jake nodded, his stupid grin widening.
The madame was turning back to Edwin when the audience lost their patience and started chanting, “Let us play! Let us play! LET US PLAY!!! LET. US. PLAY.”
Droulx stepped back in dismay as the chant grew into a deafening roar. Finally, she gave up trying to silence them and waved her arms in defeat. “Alright, alright! You win. What is it you want our boys to do?” She turned her head to the side, muttering, “Not that I don’t know already.”
“Make ‘em strip! We wanna see ‘em naked!” someone shouted. This was followed by a chorus of cheers. Soon the whole crowd was chanting, “Take it off! Take it off! Take it off! TAKE IT OFF!”
Jesse, Kyle and Edwin braced in fear when Madame Droulx rolled her eyes, capitulating. “Ok, Ok! Geez! You guyz are the worst, you know it?” Turning to the jocks, she ordered, “You heard them: Take it off…” her voice trailed off as all five guys felt an overwhelming urge to strip. Jesse, who was already nearly naked, felt the compulsion to tear off his boxers grow to an unbearable level. Before they could move a muscle, though, Droulx amended, “But keep yer panties on.” When the audience protested her decision, she put her hands on his hips and faced them, shouting, “Patience! Patience! This might be an auction but it’s also a show and we need to take our time. I don’t want these studs revealing all of their secrets right away. Let the mystery build!” She paused to look back at Jesse and his heart sank as she ordered, “Except you, Jesse. Take off those undies. NOW!”
That was it. His resistance evaporated and he had no choice but to pull down his baggy boxers. His entire torso reddened in embarrassment as he straightened and faced the crowd completely naked. A sea of smartphones appeared, all trained on him, as everyone recorded his nudity for posterity.
He could feel Kyle and Edwin staring at him aghast as they, too, were compelled to remove their clothing. Unlike him, though, they stopped at their underwear. Surprisingly, Kyle was wearing a colorful pair of tight boxers and Edwin wore a skimpy pair of red briefs. Unlike their friends, Jake and Tate were only too happy to strip down to their skivvies. Jake whipped off his jeans and t-shirt to reveal a pair of black Lycra tights. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Tate tore off his shorts with a quick flip of the wrist (the shorts were held together by only a series of snaps) to show off the lime-green jockstrap he wore underneath. He made a huge display of dancing around in his circle, thrusting his meager bulge provocatively and turning to wag his little butt at the audience. He bent over and slapped his butt cheeks, his little, furry butthole winking at everyone. Madame Droulx shook her head as loud catcalls rewarded Tate for his bravery.
The crowd was so delighted by his antics that they almost forgot about poor Jesse. Even Tate’s daring exhibitionism, however, couldn’t distract them for long from the spectacle of Jesse’s enormous cock and balls. He stood there in the center of the stage, hands held out at his sides (despite the fact he desperately wanted to cover his crotch), feeling his big, hairy, floppy balls dangle in the cool air and his long, fat, uncut schlong swing lazily between his furry thighs. His droopy foreskin added to the immense size of his dick by hanging several inches off the tip.
Under normal circumstances, Jesse relished the opportunity to show off his manly superiority–His giant cock and balls were his pride and joy!–but that was in the locker room and not in public. Being stripped bare in front of everyone was his nightmare…and it was about to get even worse.
“Well, well, well,” Madame drawled as she rounded on Jesse, her gaze devouring him with ardor. “I knew you were packin’ massive meat in those ol’ granny knickers.” She turned to the audience, calling out, “What do ya think, boyz? Our little Jesse isn’t quite so little, is he?”
“He’s too big!” a voice that sounded oddly familiar shouted. When Jesse looked out at the audience to see who it was, though, he couldn’t tell; the spotlight was too glaring. The man continued, “A cute bottom like him doesn’t need a big cock!”
This was met with a roar of approval from the audience as Madame Droulx’s mouth widened into a wicked grin. Jesse tensed, struggling fervently to break free of the strange compulsion that held him firmly in place. It was useless, though; try as he might, he couldn’t move a muscle. He was stuck there, naked and helpless, in front of everyone.
Beside him, Jake looked on with a goofy smile. Kyle’s aloof demeanor was shattered and he was standing rigid, a horrified expression on his handsome face. Edwin seemed torn between a desire to cover up and a lurid fascination with the huge bolt piercing his tongue. Tate’s bravado seemed to have evaporated; he stood in his circle off to the side, a stony expression on his face as he eyed Jesse’s massive package. Was that a hint of envy in his gaze?
“Quite right, quite right,” Madame Droulx murmured, giving a nod to the unseen speaker. “Jesse is clearly a submissive bottom in need of training. He’d fetch a better price if he wasn’t quite so hung.” She thought for a moment while Jesse sweated beside her. He had a creeping sense of dread about what the madame had planned for him. When her gaze swung over to Tate, Jesse’s stomach fell. He moaned softly as her eyes lit up and she said, “I have an idea! Let’s have Jesse and Tate swap cocks! Tate deserves an outsized cock to match his outsized personality and little Jesse should have a baby dick between his legs.”
“What?! No!” Jesse cried even as Tate pumped his fist in the air. It was too late. With a wave of her microphone accompanied by the roar of the crowd, it happened.
He looked down in utter confusion as his massive appendage began to shrink and draw in on itself. First, his long, tapering foreskin retreated inch by inch until it had crept above his glans, revealing the bloated head in all its shiny glory.
He was circumcised!
Just like that, he was circumcised!
But it didn’t stop there. The impossible continued to happen as his huge firehose of a cock contracted, shrinking in girth from being thicker than a beer can to more slender than a can of Red Bull. At the same time, it lost length, reeling in from its natural ten inches to eight to six to four. The shrinkage paused for a moment there and he breathed a sigh of relief, thinking the worst was over.
I can live with a four inch cock that’s the size and shape of a can of Red Bull, he thought, chest heaving. That means I’m probably still at least a good seven inches when I’m hard! That’s bigger than average, right?
He and the rest of the audience gaped at his former masterpiece, now greatly reduced but still sizable. He almost didn’t recognize his cock without its long, shapely foreskin. It was bare now, his glans fully exposed and sporting a bright red circumcision scar from an invisible surgeon’s knife. It didn’t hurt, though. No, if anything, it felt numb. Fuck, his whole body felt numb!
His mind couldn’t fathom what was happening. Nothing seemed real anymore, save for his cock’s conspicuous diminishment. That was real, he was certain. Just as he was certain it was permanent. A sickly pit in his stomach told him that he would never again have a jaw-dropping cock swinging between his legs.
“Don’t worry, lil’ Jesse,” Madame Droulx soothed in a sarcastic tone. “I’m barely getting started on you! Let’s do something with that pretty cockhead of yours, shall we? It looks awfully cold without its ‘turtleneck,’ don’t you think? Let’s warm it up with pubic sweater!”
“What?! No, stop!” Jesse demanded, clueless about what she meant but also knowing whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good for him.
“Too late, darling!” Droulx crooned into her microphone. “It’s already happening!”
Jesse’s ass clenched as he felt a weird spasm run through the shaft of his cock. He stared down at the mirror before him, dreading what was next. He cringed when he saw his shaft suddenly shrink both in girth and size, shortening to three inches long and scarcely fatter than a hotdog. But it wasn’t done! Another contraction and he was down to two inches in length and his poor shaft was pencil thin. He looked ridiculous with a big, fat cockhead on a tiny stem of a cock!
A sharp pain caused him to double over and clutched at his crotch. When his hands touched his flimsy little cocklet, he shuddered in revulsion and alarm. He quickly dropped his hands and straightened as the pain receded, not wanting to touch his mutant cockhead any longer than necessary.
He looked at his reflection and goggled at what he saw.
He no longer had a shaft at all, just a fat mushroom cap perched over his hairy balls. His balls were still just as big as ever but his low-hangers were a thing of the past. Instead, his nuts were pulled up really tight in his sac. They were so tight that they made his cockhead look like a bulbous nose perched over a pair of jowly, bearded cheeks. Making matters worse, his thick, brown pubes curled around his newly circumcised cockhead, tickling the sensitive skin.
Despair and humiliation washed over him like cloying rain. He had a button dick! Nothing but a button dick!
“There, Jesse!!” Madame Droulx said brightly. “You look so much better with a wooly pubic sweater to keep yer little man safe and warm!”
***
Chapter 3
While Jesse cried pitifully, pleading with Madame Droulx to restore his prized manhood, Tate was exultant. The audience watched in rapt attention as his jockstrap miraculously began to inflate. Once nearly empty, its mesh pouch swelled fatter and fatter until it was ridiculously full. His newly massive sausage stretched out the beleaguered fabric and soon it was strained nearly transparent. In the matter of seconds, Tate possessed a truly immense donkey dong, stealing Jesse’s size plus significant interest. It was so large that the wide waistband of his jock was pulled downward by the incredible weight of the swollen appendage and its wide, hairy base was exposed for all to see. Tate gaped down at it in wonder. He’d gone from unhung to a god among men just like that!
His formerly stony expression became a proud grin as he commenced thrusting his hips provocatively, causing his overstuffed jock to heave up and down. It looked like he was hiding a litter of puppies in there!
“Now that’s a man-sized package!” Droulx praised. “Of all of your friends here, Tate, you are the most deserving. While they whimper and whine, you embrace your fate with open arms…and thighs.” She walked around the gyrating Tate with a lusty grin on her face. “Be sure to thank Jesse for his gift, Tate. He gave up a lot for you to be this happy.”
Tate turned to Jesse and smirked, reaching down to cup his supersized bulge. It was so big that it spilled out of his hands. Tate cradled it like a big baby, laughing with delight at its sheer size and heft. Tears continued to roll down Jesse’s face as he met Tate’s victorious gaze and he hung his head…then wished he hadn’t because he was confronted by the sight of his tiny cocklet.
“Thanks…LITTLE bro,” Tate sneered. “Guess you know what it’s like to be inferior now.”
Jesse sniffled, hating himself and Tate. Lifting his head, he fixed Madame Droulx with a plaintive stare. “Please, please, PLEASE! Give it back! I can’t live with only a cockhead! How will I fuck?”
“Just get over it, babe,” she muttered. “You’ll be much happier now that you’re not burdened by a big dick. All it did was feed yer ego and, trust me on this one, the last thing the world needs is another cis het bro with a huge dick.” She smirked, her red lips curling in derision. “‘Sides, yer not gonna need a dick again anyway. By the time I’m through, fucking pussy will be the furthest thing from yer vapid little mind.” When this was met with another sob from Jesse, she softened. Waltzing over to him, she soothed, “Oh, don’t worry, sugar! Remember what I said about give and take? This isn’t over. Not by a long shot. Ya see, I’m on a mission here. A mission to raise as much money from you as possible. That means I can’t leave you like this. Not without some improvement. Now, let’s get a look at you.”
She stepped back and surveyed Jesse’s naked body. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a big frame. His light brown hair was neither short nor long, being about six weeks after his last haircut. His eyes were blue and his face was wide and bearded with a blunt nose and full lips. He possessed oversized chest and back muscles and his abs were a row of mounds running down like a ladder to his belly. His entire body was covered with a liberal coating of dirty brown hair, culminating with the dense pubic hair that curled around his newly-circumsized cockhead.
“Turn around, babe,” Droulx ordered and he obediently turned, presenting his decidedly flat (and furry) behind. “Tut, tut, Jesse!” she scolded. “You’re top heavy!” She shook her head, adding, “Typical straight guy. All about the upper body!”
And that wasn’t all. He was bowlegged and his legs could only be called spindly. As an avid weightlifter, Jesse had never felt inclined to focus on his lower body. The girls didn’t care about his legs! They only cared about one thing: His immense size. They loved his big biceps and bulging pecs but not nearly as much as they loved the monster between his legs.
Or at least they had…now he was a complete embarrassment in the cock department.
“Whaddaya think?” Droulx asked, swiveling to face the audience. “If Jesse’s gonna be the world’s best bottom, doesn’t he need, well, a bottom?” She reached down and patted Jesse’s tiny, furry cheeks as she said this, causing him to brace with fear. His heart began to pound in his chest when the madame’s question was met with a resounding, “YES!!!!” from the audience.
Droulx smiled wickedly. “Thought so.” She inclined her head, contemplating the four jocks surrounding Jesse on the stage. “Let’s see. Who has booty to spare? Except for Tate, they’re all pretty gifted in the behind, aren’t they?”
“Take it from me!” someone in the crowd called out. “I’ll gladly trade Jesse some of my booty for a few inches of his height!”
Madame Droulx stopped in surprise, turning to peer out into the audience. Shielding her eyes with a hand, she asked, “Who said that?” A man raised his hand and Droulx’s lips twisted in a slow smile. “A trade for height, you say? What a great idea! C’mon then. Step up here! One of my assistants will get you ready for the transfer.”
A small man with a positively enormous pair of buttocks waddled up on the stage. Jesse stared in alarm both at the size of his butt and his lack of stature. He couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. His overly generous butt protruded behind him obscenely.
Jesse pleaded with Droulx while one of her assistants attached a familiar tinfoil cap to the man’s head. The madame ignored him while she threw the switch and the little guy (with the big butt) fell backwards, landing with a soft thud on his huge cakes. In a moment, he stood again, smiling vacantly while the assistant removed the cap.
“I’m begging you!” Jesse cried. “Don’t do it! I don’t wanna be short! I don’t want a big butt!”
“I wasn’t gonna take much of yer height,” Droulx replied, voice dripping with malice, “but now I think I’ll give both this kind man and our dear Tate a few inches. Tate has big shoes to fill; he’ll need every inch!” Upon hearing this, Tate crowed with delight and Jesse howled in despair.
The madame was preparing to commence with the transfer when a voice stopped her. “Don’th do thith to Jethy. Takth my heighth inthead.”
Everyone turned in surprise to Edwin. The frat boy with the pierced tongue was standing in his circle with his hands on his hips, still wearing only a tiny red pair of bikini briefs. Naked, Edwin was more impressive than clothed. He possessed a solid frame and was only a couple inches shorter than Jesse, standing perhaps six feet tall. His body was replete with muscles and, unlike Jesse, he clearly never skipped leg day. Both his legs and ass were thick and well-formed. While his face was clean-shaven, his chest, belly and legs were covered in well-trimmed, dark brown body hair. From the bulge in his briefs, he was probably above average in the size department, although not by much. Overall, he presented a studly figure: A robust jock with a killer physique and decent cock.
“Edwin!” Droulx called out. “You surprise me! I never expected an arrogant prick like you to volunteer to take the heat off Jesse.” When Edwin scowled, she continued, “I think I’ll take you up on your offer, though. And then some.”
“Waith!” Edwin lisped, panicked. “Whath?”
“Yes,” the madame growled, stalking up to loom over the now cowering frat boy, “I’ll see your height and raise you some body hair. No, I take that back. I’ll take all of your hair! Tate needs fur, too.”
“No!” the frat president cried. “Donth!”
His plea only seemed to enrage Droulx. “Edwin,” she seethed, “you’re testing my patience. And when tested, I strike out, taking away even more than before.” Edwin shrank back as she flounced back in his direction. She looked him up and down, examining his body critically, before pronouncing, “Your leg muscles are impressive. Too impressive. I think you need to give them to Jesse. He’ll need something to support the giant ass he’s about to grow.”
“Nooooo,” Edwin cried, his voice coming out as barely a whisper. “Pleathe, no!”
“And Tate needs more than just a little extra height,” the madame continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “He’s pretty light in the upper body. I think I’ll give him your size up there, too.” When this was met with yet more pathetic begging from Edwin, Droulx cajoled, “Don’t worry! I’ll give back as much as I take. Now let’s get started, shall we?”
The audience cheered as Madame Droulx waved her microphone in the direction of the small man with the big ass. Instantly, he stood up straight. Looking back at his jutting buttocks, he moaned with pleasure as he watched them shrinking down in size. At the same time, Jesse wailed in despair; he could already feel his meager butt cheeks begin to inflate.
At first, there was a barely perceptible vibration but this soon increased and was joined by another sensation: Stretching. He howled as he felt his buttocks swelling, growing ever bigger, fatter and heavier. The audience grew silent, watching with breathless fascination as Jesse’s tiny butt took on ever greater mass and heft, pushing out behind him and rising higher and mightier. Soon, it was a jiggly shelf behind him, full and round and fat while still managing to be somewhat perky. He groaned as he felt it weighing him down, adding pound after pound to his svelte physique. When it was over, he knew he’d never regain his former speed and grace on the soccer pitch.
“A huge improvement!” Droulx goaded. “But not quite what I had in mind.” She pressed a long fingernail idly to her blood-red lips as she paced around him, contemplating. “No, not quite what I had in mind. But no matter! You can’t rush greatness. I’ll continue molding you until you fetch the best price.” She cackled as if this was the most amusing joke, dropping her hand and patting his absurdly plump rump. He gritted his teeth as he felt it jiggle like a giant bowlful of Jello.
He hung his head, hating his new body. Losing his precious manhood was bad enough but growing an enormous, fat ass was just as bad. How would he ever go out in public again looking like this? There was no way to conceal the giant caboose hanging off his backside!
Even as he struggled to come to terms with his new, big, fat ass, the transfer continued. The little guy with the big butt had already successfully transferred his giant globes to Jesse but there was still the ‘gift’ from Edwin’s legs and thighs. Jesse cringed as he felt the process begin, forever altering him below the waist.
His legs widened and thickened, taking on Edwin’s robust proportions and ceasing only when they matched the incredible width and fatness of his burgeoning ass. He closed his eyes, refusing to look down at the mirror. It was too much! Too much! Why had he ever agreed to sign up for this horrible charity event? He hated Jairo with a passion for talking him into it. It wasn’t fair! He’d never volunteered for this humiliation!
He was startled out of his misery by a pitiful whine coming from Edwin on his left. He turned in time to witness the impossible happening to the poor jock. The frat president’s muscles were wasting away before his eyes!
As Jesse stared, Edwin lost nearly all of his muscle tone. His legs, chest, butt and arms became narrow and undefined. The frat boy stared straight ahead, jaw clenched and a stoic expression on his handsome face. It was clear he was refusing to give the audience the satisfaction of watching him whine and beg. It didn’t matter; Madame’s magic didn’t care whether he reacted or not because nothing could stop the stud’s unholy transformation.
Next, his body hair disappeared. The follicles on his chest, ass and pubes pulled in on themselves until he was left completely bare of hair below the neck. His narrow, bony frame looked pale and childlike without any trace of body hair. Unfortunately for Edwin, the hair loss didn’t stop there. Once his body was completely smooth, his beard fell out, followed soon by the long, thick hair on his head. Edwin clutched at his scalp as those luxurious locks began to fall out in clumps. It was no use. In a moment, the floor around him was a carpet of brown hair. Not even his eyebrows were spared. By the time the balding had stopped, he was a pale, pasty, skeleton of a man.
Though hairless and scrawny, Edwin still struck an impressive figure but that was not to last. Jesse blinked as Edwin’s belly pushed outward. And then his little buttocks did the same. Unfortunately for the formerly svelte frat boy, though, this wasn’t muscle. No, not muscle at all, just fat and lots of it.
At first, Edwin didn’t notice but soon his growing belly was obvious even to him and he howled in disbelief as he watched pound after pound of fat settle around his midsection and ass. In no time, he was distinctly pear-shaped with a thick, shapeless ass and an obvious muffintop drooping over the waistband of his increasingly tight briefs. The fat sagged listlessly on his hips, jiggling noticeably with every move.
By the time it had finished, it was clear that Madame Droulx had been true to her word: She had given Edwin just as much as she took. Pound for pound, he was the same weight as before, tipping the scales at one hundred eighty pounds. Only the composition of his body had changed drastically. Instead of lean, shapely muscle, he now possessed the blobby, saggy, jelly-like flesh of someone who never exercised…or went outdoors for that matter. Unlike Jesse, Edwin had no melanin to speak of and looked pallid and ghostlike with his soft, hairless, white skin.
While Jesse and Edwin paid dearly, Tate was benefiting from their losses. Jesse squeaked when he felt his whole body begin to contract. Before him, Madame Droulx seemed to grow even bigger, although he had a terrible suspicion that she wasn’t growing, he was getting smaller. Another painful contraction and he lost another inch of height. To his left, Edwin experienced the same shrinking, losing inch after inch until, instead of six feet tall, he was barely five feet seven. (Sadly for him, he still weighed the same, looking even rounder and flabbier than before.) For his part, Jesse was left only slightly taller; he would later measure himself and discover he’d shrunk more than six inches, coming in at just under five eight. He would never again be described as tall and imposing.
Tate, however, had never been taller. Or beefier. When Jesse looked over at his teammate, the cocky jock now towered over him, possessing the massive upper body of a weightlifter. Now well over six feet tall, Tate had grown a body to match his huge cock.
And talk about hairy!
Tate’s entire body had sprouted a pelt of dark brown fur and a dense beard covered his cheeks. Only his ridiculously furry pubes rivaled the hair on his face; kinky, coarse hair poured out of the top of the waistband of his jockstrap. It was a truly manly bush!
His transformation into a true alpha complete, Tate lifted his furry head and let out a deafening roar. “Take that bitches!” he yelled, turning to gloat over the much diminished Jesse and Edwin who drew back from him like scared cattle. He flexed, causing his engorged muscles to pulse, and thrust out his crotch, displaying his overly inflated horse cock. Laughing heartily at their envious and fearful reactions, he shouted, “I’m yer fuckin’ worst nightmare! I’m yer new daddy! I’M TATE FUCKING MACCALISTER, THE BIGGEST, HUNGEST, HOTTEST MAN IN THE WORLD!”
***
Chapter 4
Jesse’s eyes watered but he steadfastly refused to give into the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. He hung his head, resisting the temptation to look at his reflection. His mind was spinning and he felt ill. How could this happen to him? It couldn’t be real!
Edwin began to tear up, too, but somehow managed to stifle his sobs and stood there with his shoulders held back. His new, big belly sagged over his skimpy pair of red bikini briefs, hiding his man-sized bulge. Like Jesse, Edwin refused to look down at the mirror before him but, unlike Jesse who was cowed and humiliated, he held his head erect and stared off into the distance. His resolute expression betrayed his hope that this horrible transformation was either just a horrible dream or would be reversed once the auction was over. Poor thing! He had no idea yet that his fate had been sealed and he would never again be the arrogant, hot-blooded frat stud that he’d been until just minutes ago.
Tate continued to gloat, even going so far as to yank down his jockstrap and let his enormous cock swing free. It was a true donkey dong! Flaccid, it was at least two feet long and fatter than his wrist. While impressive in size, it was disgusting, too. His newly bloated cock head was ridiculously round and fat, a caricature of a huge, yellow onion and basically the same color. Worse, his foreskin was both too tight and too long; it dangled off the onion bulb of his cockhead like a footlong straw.
Even in his despairing state, Jesse recognized this affliction as a bad case of phimosis and wondered how Tate would retract the ‘straw’ far enough to free his glans. For his part, however, Tate was so happy to grow an enormous cock that he hadn’t noticed how freaky it was yet. In any case, having been circumcised until now, he had yet to understand the danger of a hyper-tight foreskin. Right then, he was too busy rubbing Jesse’s face in his new, giant size.
Madame Droulx ignored Tate as she helped the formerly little guy who’d ‘gifted’ Jesse his big ass off the stage. Jesse clenched his jaw when he saw the man’s butt was now normal-sized and he was above average in height. His jeans were noticeably shorter and looser than before and the man had to clutch at them to keep them from sliding off. Jesse scowled. He didn’t even need to move to be reminded of how much he’d gained back there; the pull of gravity on his inflated cakes was both a new and omnipresent sensation. How would he ever run again, much less find pants that fit him?
When she was done guiding the man off the stage, Madame Droulx turned to examine the five jocks. Well, make that three and a half jocks; Edwin could hardly be considered athletic any longer and it was a stretch to imagine a sport that Jesse could excel in with a butt so fat and huge. “Let’s see, let’s see, who’s next?” she wondered aloud. She was turning to Kyle–whose strategy of keeping silent and being unobtrusive had so far worked in his favor–when the audience started chanting again.
“Jakey! Jakey! Jakey! WE WANT JAKEY!” they roared.
The madame sighed heavily into her microphone and reluctantly left Kyle for later. “Ok! Ok! Ok!” she huffed. “Jake it is! Now, what do you want me to do to him?”
Jake, utterly devoid of the intellectual capacity to understand his peril, merely grinned stupidly as Droulx approached him. She eyed him speculatively, taking in his lanky physique. Clad only in a pair of Lycra tights that accentuated his long, lean form, he was about six feet two and moderately hairy, although his face was clean-shaven. His dark brown hair was styled in a short, tight haircut befitting a jock who was–or at least had been–a rigorous academic. Jesse felt a stab of envy. Until not long ago, he’d looked much like that! No more and never again, though.
“Mr. Ochoa,” Droulx began, “now it’s time to show us everything.” When Jake merely blinked uncomprehendingly at this, she rolled her eyes, stating, “Take. Off. Your. Tights. NOW.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Jake agreed, his grin broadening. “Here ya go!”
He yanked down his tights and tossed them aside to stand before everyone in his naked glory. Jesse’s envy deepened when he saw Jake’s fat, uncircumcised cock pointing proudly out of his manscaped bush of dark pubic hair. His balls were very generous, too, hanging fat and heavy in his distended sac. His body was fairly pale with the exception of his arms and legs; they were tanned dark from the hours Jake spent practicing soccer.
“Whaddaya think?” Jake asked, spreading his arms and inviting the audience to admire his physique. “Do ya like it? Haha!”
The answer was a resounding yes as the crowd cheered him on wildly. Jesse’s stomach curdled as he, too, took in Jake’s unparalleled magnificence. His envy was rapidly souring into hatred.
Jake laughed, eating up the applause, and provocatively turned and bent over to thrust out his muscular ass. His butt wasn’t huge but it was hairy and pleasantly blocky, a perfect soccer jock’s behind. The audience’s shouting became frenzied and several loud wolf whistles pierced the air.
Madame Droulx stalked around his naked body, examining him closely from every angle. Finally, she halted and asked the audience, “Well? Shout it out: What’re we gonna do to our little Jakey to increase his selling price? First off, is he top, bottom or vers?”
By that point, Jesse had a pretty clear idea what the terms meant, although he was a little confused by ‘vers.’ It didn’t really matter, though, he’d just made the mistake of looking at his own reflection in the mirror before him and was overcome by despair. I look like a hairy, short-dicked, bottom-heavy gnome! he thought, filled with self-loathing. What girl is ever gonna want me like this?!
He hated everything about himself but, more than that, he fucking hated Madame Droulx for cursing him like this. He was on the verge of sliding once again into the abyss of despair when he happened to look beyond the mirror and out into the crowd. As if by some miracle, everything was dark except for one ray of light over the bar. He followed that ray, letting it pull him out of the depths of his misery.
And then he saw him.
Jairo.
His buddy’s shaggy hair was limned in a soft halo of that light. If he squinted, he could see Jairo’s eyes; they were glued to Jesse’s body. And the biggest smile was plastered across his face; Jairo clearly didn’t mind Jesse what looked like now. In fact, he seemed to like him more than ever.
But why?
The dude was straight and had the hottest girlfriend imaginable. It didn’t make sense…but, he quickly decided, it didn’t need to. Seeing his friend–especially seeing the way Jairo was looking at him–was a life raft. A life raft that buoyed Jesse’s spirits and steadied his nerves. He smiled back at Jairo.
Jairo’s smile widened and he pumped a fist in the air, shouting, “Go, Jessé! Jessé rocks!”
Jesse squared his shoulders (which were even more impressively broad now that he was shorter and stockier.) He knew he should be furious with Jairo for talking him into this horrible auction but somehow couldn’t quite muster any outrage. Instead, he felt a strange pride.
Meanwhile, the crowd had made the unanimous decision that Jake was vers, whatever that meant.
“‘Vers’?” Madame Droulx repeated, shaking her head. “Well, Ok, I guess. I was kinda hoping for top but why not the best of both worlds?” She turned to Jake, who was still shaking his butt at the audience, and pronounced, “Jake Ochoa is now vers.” She paused, giving the audience a sly smile before pronouncing, “Vers and switch, that is. Plus, he’s horny as fuck all the time.”
As the audience roared their approval, Jake froze, standing up straight and rigid. Gradually, the expression on his face changed. He still looked dumb as ever but his eyes became feral and hungry. A wide, lupine grin spread across his face, exposing his white teeth. Between his legs, his soft cock plumped up, swelling until he was half hard. A dribble of precum leaked out between the folds of his foreskin. For the rest of his life, his cock would be in a perpetual state of arousal.
He turned and leered at Jesse, dropping a hand down to his crotch and fondling his equipment.
“Yo, bro!” he called out. “Want a big ol’ banana in yer milkshake?” Jesse clenched his mountainous buttocks at these words, drawing away from Jake in alarm. When Jesse didn’t take him up on the invitation, Jake turned to Kyle and, ogling the sizable bulge in the jock’s colorful, tight boxers, presented him with his ripe buttocks, begging, “What about you, KyKy? I’ll gladly open my hole fer yer big pole!” Kyle’s complexion turned decidedly green and he crossed his arms, disgust written across his face.
The madame shook her finger at Kyle, tsking, “Tut, tut! That imperious attitude is unbecoming, my dear boy.”
“I am NOT a boy,” Kyle corrected, his anger getting the better of him. He should have known by then that talking back to the madame was not a winning proposition. He thrust back his huge shoulders, deep voice booming, “I’m a MAN! And a straight one at that!”
This was greeted by boos from the audience but Madame Droulx appeared strangely unperturbed by his defiance. Instead, she merely asked, “I’m sorry? What was that you were saying, KyKy?”
“I said I’m a man!”
Silence.
Then the crowd erupted in raucous laughter. Around Kyle, his four bros turned to stare at him in disbelief and Jesse thought, ‘What the fuck happened to his voice? He sounds like a–’
Aghast at the delicate sound coming out of his mouth, Kyle clapped a hand over his throat and probed desperately. It took Jesse a moment to figure out what he was doing but then he got it: Kyle was trying to find his Adam’s apple. It was a fruitless search, though. Poor guy! Madame Droulx had taken it away. The former man-sized lump was gone, robbing the manly Kyle of his commanding baritone forever. When he spoke again, he sounded soft, breathy and seductive, like a vixen in heat.
“What did you do to my voice?” Kyle demanded, trying desperately to regain his formerly deep register. It was a resounding failure, though. If anything, his voice was higher than before. And lilting. His face grew red and he drew himself up to his full height, trying to loom over Madame Droulx. “You canth do thith to meeee!” he shouted.
More laughter as his falsetto voice took on a distinctive lisp.
“Stopth it!” he shrilled, withering under the audience’s scorn. “Ith noth funny!”
Even Jesse had a hard time keeping a straight face. The dainty and delicate lisp coming out of the macho guy’s mouth was so incongruous that he had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his smile. Kyle had always been such an arrogant prick that it was kind of fun seeming him taken down a notch.
“Not funny?” Madame Droulx repeated, turning to the crowd. “He says it’s not funny! What do you think?”
Kyle wilted further under the audience’s derisive laughter. For the first time in Jesse’s memory, Kyle’s famous confidence abandoned him and he was left standing there in defeat, his muscular shoulders hunched and head hanging low. As the laughter continued, his face, shoulders and back turned bright red with embarrassment.
“Not quite so cocky now, huh?” Droulx goaded, smiling wickedly as Kyle opened his mouth to shout back at her but then thought better of it. “What was that? I didn’t hear you,” the madame pressed, clearly savoring Kyle’s impotent rage. When he refused to answer, she stalked across the stage and smirked down at him. “I think it’s time to make you even less cocky,” she murmured ominously into her microphone. “As a vers himbo in the making, Jakey needs a little something extra in front and yer gonna give it to him.”
Kyle’s face drained of color at this but it was too late. Madame Droulx was already reaching out to yank down his colorful pair of skin-tight boxers. His sizable organ flopped out and everyone goggled; Kyle’s cock even rivaled Jesse’s former glory! Fat and long and uncut, it swung lazily between his furry thighs, easily more than nine inches soft and thicker than a beer can. When Kyle reached down to cover himself, Droulx slapped his hands and he jumped as if stung. As if under a strange geas, he straightened, hands falling to his sides.
“Well, well, well,” Droulx drawled, a sly grin on her face. “Where do all these super-hung studs come from?” She looked out at the audience, eyebrows lifted in mock surprise. “The soccer team’s been hogging all the inches. Don’t you think that’s awfully greedy of them?” When this was met with jeering from the audience, she continued, “Let’s give our ‘man’ KyKy here a package to match his voice, shall we?”
“NO!” Kyle cried, sounding like a mewling kitten. “Pleathe! Donth! I’ll do anythingth! Juth donth takth my dickth!”
Too late.
With a wave of her mic, Kyle’s giant piece began to shrivel even as Jake’s fat cock grew even fatter. And longer. And heavier. As Jake’s goofy grin widened, his cock and balls swelled to prodigious size, hanging down nearly to his knees. He wasn’t quite as hung as the giant Tate but he wasn’t far behind. When it was over, his half-hard cock swung like an elephant trunk before him and his low-hangers were the size of ripe mangoes.
And Kyle?
Poor Kyle was left with only a slender pencil drooping over a pair of cherry-sized balls. On such a huge, muscular and hairy man, his reduced appendage looked quite ludicrous; however, Jesse noticed with a gimlet eye that Kyle’s boy-sized dicklet was still a lot bigger than his own shaftless nub. Even though Droulx had allowed Jesse to keep his big nuts, they only exaggerated the laughable tininess of his knobhead.
Kyle stared down at his little boy in horror, unable to stop comparing his tiny pee-pee to the behemoth swinging between Jake’s thighs. As he stared at that masterpiece, his face darkened with hatred and rage. His shoulders began to shake and he looked like he was going to explode.
“A good vers needs both a big cock and a big bubble, doesn’t he?” Droulx mused, oblivious to Kyle’s smoldering rage. Pacing around behind him, she patted his substantial ass, causing him to freeze. His fury quickly gave way to fear as it dawned on him what she was insinuating. “Let’s give Jakey a truly giant peach. All in favor, say aye!”
The audience responded with wild approval, thereby sealing Kyle’s fate. He could only stand in mute despair as Droulx waved her magic mic one more time and transferred his muscular jock butt to Jake, with significant interest.
The thrill of the transfer never grew old! Everyone goggled at Jake’s miraculously swelling ass cheeks. He looked back at his globes and chuckled idiotically as they grew and grew and grew, doubling…tripling…and finally quadrupling in size until he possessed a gold-medal winning ass. He’d been gifted back there before but now had an embarrassment of gluteal riches, emphasis on embarrassment. Poor Jake was too stupid and horny now to understand just how freaky he looked.
His vastly expanded bum was furry and muscular and astonishingly plump with just the right amount of jiggle. And talk about perky! Those phat cheeks widened and parted, pushing out and up, until he was left with a jaunty sideways grin. From that point forward, his hairy ass crack would remain open and available, never obscuring his always-hungry hole. This despite the fact that his twin globes were bigger than a pair of watermelons.
“Fuck, yeah!” Jake crowed, pumping his fist and waggling his mammoth cock, his jaw-dropping peach swaying alluringly behind him. “Who wants at me first, boys? I’ll make yer dreams come true!”
Just then, a high-pitched keening began echoing from the right side of the stage and everyone looked over to see Kyle with his colorful boxers down around his knobby ankles. He was holding his face in his hands and sobbing. Jesse did a double take when he saw how ridiculous the formerly macho jock looked with a wasted away lower body and a tiny baby dick. His big, muscular legs and commanding ass had disappeared, leaving him looking like a scarecrow below the navel.
Even though Jesse felt bad for him, he couldn’t help smirking a little, too. It was laughable seeing Kyle’s broad shoulders and barrel chest teetering atop those stick-thin legs. Now the fucker knows what it’s like to be cursed, he thought. At least I’m not alone!
“Oh, don’t worry, KyKy!” Droulx taunted. “I’m not done with you yet! Not by a long shot. Now stop crying like a baby! Big men like you don’t cry, you know.”
Kyle sniffled, fixing her with baleful, red-rimmed eyes. He didn’t lash out at her, though; he’d already learned that lesson the hard way!
“Let’s give Jakey a new profession and wardrobe!” the madame called out, flouncing over to the jock. “When we started, Jakey was straight, uptight and too smart for his own good. Now he’s gay as the day is long, slutty and dumb as a stump. Hmmm, what profession is he suited for?” She paused in thought, a fingernail poised against her chin, before brightening. “I know! How ‘bout a surfer bro? Surfer bros don’t need brains and they barely need clothes. As a good vers himbo, Jakey should advertise his sluttiness far and, ahem, wide.” She slapped him hard on his massive ass as she said this, causing him to giggle with delight.
Catcalls filled the air as Madame Droulx sashayed to the side of the stage and returned with a crumpled handful of fabric. Holding it out to Jake, she urged, “Go on, Jakey! This is your new uniform! Adorn yourself and let’s take a look at you!”
Jake stared at her stupidly, his mouth hanging open and dull eyes vacant. Finally, she sighed and thrust the clothes in his hands, ordering, “The clothes, Jakey. Put ‘em on!”
The dumb jock guffawed, “Haha! Oh, yeah!” Making a big show for the audience, he turned around and bent over, spreading his inflated globes wide, as he stepped into a miniscule garment. As he pulled it up his mounded thighs, he tried unsuccessfully to stuff his massive meat into the pouch. Jesse stared, disgusted. ‘Is that a thong?’ he wondered. ‘Jake’s gonna wear a thong?’
It was indeed a thong.
When he was finished, Jake was wearing only the tiniest of blue thongs. The pouch was oversized but even so barely covered his chubbed-up monster cock. The audience cheered in delight as the pouch pulled down, exposing the top eight inches of his thick pole. A wet spot appeared on the front of the pouch as it strained to contain his saggy balls and the lower half of his obscene sausage. The thick ridge of his glans pressed luridly against the sheer fabric.
In back, the picture was even more salacious. His ass cheeks were spread wide, giving everyone a clear view of the string of the thong riding up his crack and bisecting his furry manhole. The waistband was perched precariously atop his luscious mounds, a whaletail of epic proportions.
His ‘uniform’ was complete when he pulled on a skin-tight blue tank top that reached only halfway to his belly button and accentuated his big shoulders, wide back and narrow hips. Madame shoved a battered surfboard under his arm before stepping back to survey her handiwork.
“Hmmm, needs a tan,” she said, flicking her wrist and pointing the microphone at him. Instantly, the skin all over Jake’s body darkened to rich mocha…with the exception of distinct, white tan lines in the obvious outline of a thong. “Nice,” Droulx commented as the crowd responded with wolf whistles. “But he looks too clean cut for a surfer bro. I’ll fix that!” Snapping her fingers, Jake’s hair lost its perfect coif and became shaggy and unkempt, hanging down over his eyes. Crude, poorly-rendered tattoos spread across his chest and arms and piercings ran up his earlobes. Patchy facial hair sprouted on his chin and cheeks and the gaps between his perfect teeth widened, the pearly whites becoming dull and stained. The capstone, though, was the trampstamp tattoo over his absurdly ripe buttocks. In garish colors, it read, ‘OPEN FOR BUSINESS’ with a thick, black arrow pointing crudely downward.
When she was finished, there was barely a trace of the old, intelligent and well-groomed Jake left. In his place was a vapid, scruffy, heavily-inked surfer bro with weathered skin and marijuana-stained teeth. A blunt appeared in the corner of his mouth and he chewed on it while distractedly scratching his huge balls.
“Listen to me, Jakey,” Droulx was saying. “You will never again wear shorts or pants. For the rest of your life, you will only wear a thong. Nothing but a thong. You hear me?”
“Like, uh huh, dude. I hear ya!” Jake sounded completely daft and Jesse had to suppress a shudder. Were there no limits to Madame Droulx’s nefarious powers? The question chilled him to the bone.
Even Tate sobered up, stopping posing for a moment while he took in Jake’s incredible changes. Was that a flicker of trepidation that Jesse saw in his eyes? If so, it didn’t last long and the big, arrogant, muscular and hung jock soon commenced prancing and thrusting again with wild abandon.
“He’s perfect. Let the bidding begin!” Madame Droulx pronounced. “Jakey Ochoa’s peach is ripe for the plucking! Who’s gonna take him home tonight?”
She turned and looked up at a big screen mounted on the wall behind her as the audience members pulled out their smartphones and opened the bidding app. Jesse, Kyle and Edwin watched in stunned silence as Jake’s asking price rose precipitously from the initial one hundred dollars. The vapid surfer bro guffawed loudly, mouth hanging open in happy disbelief. In no time, the number crested one thousand dollars.
Two thousand.
Three thousand.
Four thousand.
Five thousand.
Six thousand dollars!
That was the price of the winning bid. Jake was ecstatic as he gyrated in his circle, his cock hardening and his tight, virgin hole puckering in anticipation. He couldn’t wait to get wrecked!
“A new record!” Madame Droulx praised, slinging an arm over Jake’s broad shoulders. “Jakey Ochoa set a new record tonight! How ‘bout that folx: Let’s have a round of applause for Jakey!”
***
Chapter 5
The winning bidder for Jake turned out to be a mousy programmer with scruffy facial hair, an overbite and a wallflower personality. However, the audience watched his persona bloom as soon as he stepped hesitantly onto the stage and reached out to take Jake’s hand. Jake guffawed at the outstretched hand and instead pulled the dude into a passionate embrace. Locking lips, the pair began kissing with a vengeance. Soon, Jakey had worked most of his new friend’s clothing off and they were fucking like puppies. It was clear that they were so consumed in their amorous exploits that they had quite forgotten the audience.
“It never gets old,” Madame Droulx sighed, her mascaraed eyes going misty. Motioning to the naked pair, she raised her voice, praising, “True love, folx. That’s true love!”
“Or true lusth,” Edwin lisped, his tongue piercing breaking off another chip of tooth. He was watching Jake and his new lover with a distaste that verged on revulsion.
For his part, Jesse couldn’t stop staring in dismay at his ugly reflection in the mirror positioned before him on the stage. He didn’t even recognize himself! He was barely aware when the madame turned away from the mating pair and, lifting her microphone to her glossy lips, breathed, “And now I have a surprise for you.” Her voice was so low that the audience leaned forward with eager expectation. Pausing for dramatic effect, she added, “Well, actually it’s more of a surprise for our big man, Tate, here.”
“WHAT IS IT?” someone shouted from the back. “WHAT’RE YOU GONNA DO TO HIM NEXT?”
Madame Droulx smiled munificently, relishing the crowd’s breathless anticipation as she announced, “I am now going to interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you a special presentation. Ladies and ladies, may I have a warm welcome for our next group of contestants: THE MARSHALL STATE FOOTBALL TEAM!”
The crowd went wild, shouting and clapping and clamoring as five members of the football team strode onto the stage. They squinted in the bright lights and looked more than a little freaked out. The four remaining soccer jocks–if they could still be called jocks after their ignominious changes–stared at each other and then at the confused football players. Only a half hour ago, the appearance of their nemeses would have made them puff out their chests and spout abuse. Now, though, everything had changed. Even Tate’s euphoria dimmed slightly, probably because he’d been expecting that Droulx would continue robbing attributes from his teammates. The question, “Why are the football jocks here?” was etched across his handsome face.
The five football players were decked out in their black and orange uniforms. To a man, they were big, beefy and dripping with macho bravado. Jesse couldn’t see much of their faces through the grills of their helmets but he thought he recognized most of them; they were defensive linemen, the biggest and baddest members of the team.
Inside their helmets, their faces were square and blocky, much like their bodies. And their eyes were dull. As the soccer team liked to joke, the football team would never pass their classes without the help of their tutors, meaning that their tutors did all of their homework and fed them the answers to the tests. In contrast, all of the soccer jocks were decent academics, although Jake was probably so dumb now that he could probably no longer graduate. Hopefully, his new boyfriend made enough money to support him!
As dumb as the football players were, though, they were smart enough to know that something was very wrong as soon as they lumbered onto the stage. Jesse hunched his shoulders with humiliation as the football jocks sneered at them, their bitter rivals. Their lips curled with mockery as they took in their transformations but there was something else lurking in their bovine gazes: Trepidation. It didn’t take a genius to understand that they might be subjected to the same humiliation as their enemies and, sure enough, several of them looked like they were about to edge their way off the stage.
“Not so fast,” Madame Droulx stated, her voice leaden with menace. The jocks froze, uncertain. “Ladies,” she said, gesturing to her drag queen assistants who were hovering on the wings of the stage, “why don’t you help our boys here get more comfortable? They look awful hot in those big, bulky uniforms. I’m sure they’re dying to take them off.”
The football jocks braced and would have bolted if the assistants hadn’t moved with surprising speed. In the blink of an eye, five drag queens plucked the helmets off the footballers’ heads and placed more of the funny tinfoil hats on their big heads. Madame theatrically pulled back the huge lever on the side of the stage and there was a bright flash during which the big jocks sank to their knees, clutching their melon heads. Their eyes rolled up in their thick skulls and their mouths fell open, making them look even dumber than usual. And then they stood, stiff as boards, with their hulking arms held at their sides. Each man wore an expression of pure terror when he realized he no longer had control of his body.
One of the big brutes opened his mouth to talk but all that came out was a guttural grunt followed by two syllables that echoed across the stage: “UUUUUUH, DUUUUUUUH!”
“So eloquent, so erudite!” Madame Droulx mocked. “You’ll find that you’re quite incapable of speech, my big, dumb bro-friends. I don’t want to be disturbed by your moronic questions, you see.” She dismissed the big, drooling jocks, turning back to the audience.
Under normal circumstances, Jesse and his buddies would have joined the crowd in laughing at the big, dumb jocks as they stood there fish-mouthing in shock at finding themselves unable to move or talk. But these were far from ordinary times and the four soccer jocks were already more than familiar with the footballers’ predicament. Rather than glee, they watched them with wary amusement. Even Tate’s cockiness was somewhat diminished, although it was probably because the narcissistic jerk was upset that he was no longer the center of attention. Jesse watched him with a gimlet eye–hating him for stealing his big cock–before looking back to the football team. He had to admit he felt a little better knowing that his misery would soon be shared by those arrogant jocks.
“Go on, boyz,” the madame drawled, taking obvious delight in her power over the big footballers. “Get comfortable. Take off your uniforms.” She paused, her lip curling into a sneer. “Now!”
The hapless studs had no choice but to comply. They stared down in horror as their hands betrayed them, moving on their own volition to strip off their jerseys, tights and cleats. The audience cheered as piece after piece of their proud regalia came off and soon the five jocks were wearing only their pads and jockstraps. Jesse stared enviously at those bulging cups; the hulking outlines of their proud schlongs were obvious. (How the fuck can they all be so fucking hung?!) Each was even bigger than the next, so hung that their jockstrap pouches were stretched thin in the attempt to contain such manly equipment. Jesse swallowed bile; only a few minutes ago, he’d been nearly as hung. He could only hope that Madame Droulx would be as merciless with these assholes as she’d been with him!
“Go on,” Droulx urged. “Take off the pads, too.” The jocks jerked into motion, unfastening their pads and girdles. When all the pads had been removed, their hands–moving like robotic claws–landed on the waistbands of their jocks and the big bros stared helplessly, clenching their jaws as they prepared to give the audience the full Monty. At the last instant, though, Droulx sighed, “You can keep on yer jockstraps. For now.”
The jocks relaxed…somewhat. And now all five were standing in line on the stage, their beefy shoulders nearly touching, naked save for their sweat-stained jockstraps. They made for an impressive sight, those brooding slabs of prime beef. Towering over everyone present, they stood well over six and a half feet tall and weighed no less than three hundred pounds each. A mixture of skin colors, they ranged from lily white to dark ebony. Jesse couldn’t take his eyes off of them no matter how hard he tried. Embarrassment and shame warred within him as he realized he was getting turned on by their impending doom.
He was embarrassed because he was a straight guy and couldn’t understand why he would get aroused by the sight of five mostly naked men. (One advantage of his tiny cock was that it looked the same erect as flaccid so no one besides him knew that he was excited.) And the shame was because he realized he didn’t even know their names. Before this point, he’d thought of the footballers as a collective, kind of like drones in a steroidal hive. Looking at them now, though, he saw them as individuals for the very first time. These jocks might be arrogant fucks but they were also men with a history and a life. And that history and life was about to be erased forever. He hated himself for gleefully awaiting their comeuppance. Was he any better than them? He certainly wasn’t any better than anyone in the audience. The crowd was beside itself with excitement, chanting loudly as they urged Droulx to work her magic on the five jocks.
“The moment you’ve all been waiting for,” Droulx announced, smirking as the footballers shrank back from her (or tried to) on the stage. Their eyes were round with fear and they were shaking as their eyes darted from Jesse and his pals to the ravenous audience. Jesse didn’t need to read their minds to know how they were feeling. They could see their fate standing before them and were bitterly regretting the naive decision to participate in this awful auction.
Off the side of the stage, only Jake and his ardent lover were unphased by the proceedings. Jake was in the process of lowering his big bottom onto his lover’s waiting cock. The nerd, Jesse noticed, had a surprisingly large endowment for such a little guy. Jake apparently agreed, howling in ecstasy as his cherry popped audibly, stretching out into a permanent gape as that huge tool rammed inside him.
Madame Droulx, however, was laser-focused and nothing tore her away from her unholy mission. Ignoring the whimpering football jocks and the howling audience, she spun on her heels to confront Tate. “Our big man here needs more, don’t you think?” she asked, turning from him to the crowd and receiving a standing ovation in response. She smirked, continuing, “He’s not nearly big enough. Let’s give him more muscles, shall we? A lot more muscles.”
Jesse’s shoulders fell. The last thing he wanted was to stoke Tate’s ego further. With a massive cock and more than his share of muscles, the arrogant prick was already a god. Why did he get the best of everything while he, Jesse, suffered humiliating defeat? He looked down at his widened hips and tiny prick, scowling.
“Don’t worry, Jesse!” a familiar voice called out over the roar. “Your time is coming!”
He lifted his head at this, peering into the audience. He knew it was Jairo’s voice but he couldn’t see him in the glare of the lights. The mere sound of his voice, though, was enough to make him feel a bit better even if he didn’t know what Jairo meant by ‘your time is coming’.
Tate had initially been anxious when the madame first loomed over him but he relaxed, face breaking into a cocky grin, when he heard her proclamation. He thrust out his broad, furry chest and did a little strutting dance, turning to jab a finger at the football jocks. “That’s right, you fuckers!” he crowed. “Yer gonna lose and lose big time! Just wait an’ see!”
Madame Droulx didn’t comment on this but Jesse could see her expression and it sent chills down his spine. “You heard him,” she murmured, turning back to the jockstrap-clad jocks. “Yer gonna lose and lose big time. How ‘bout we start with fifty pounds of muscle?”
The audience howled their approval, singing the madame’s praises. No sooner had the terrified football players opened their mouths to protest than their giant, muscular physiques began to dissipate. Slowly at first but accelerating quickly, their pumped arms and backs and chests and thighs shrank and shrank as each guy lost exactly fifty pounds of pure muscle.
Jesse watched, eyebrows going up. As many times as he witnessed the impossible happen, it still unwillingly captivated him. He couldn’t believe what a difference the loss had on the jocks! No longer half as imposing, they now looked quite ordinary. The bold blockiness of their bodies disappeared, leaving them flabby and shapeless. (Like all defensive lineman, they had more than their share of padding. Their oversized muscles, however, had given this extra padding shape and substance. Without it, they were decidedly chunky.) They now looked more like Edwin than imposing football jocks…except, unlike poor Eddie, they still had body hair and lots of it.
Tate, on the other hand, gained everything they lost. Jesse turned at his deep groan, watching with smoldering resentment as the jock’s already bulky body gained an additional two hundred fifty pounds of muscle mass. His thighs ballooned from tree trunks to the size of a pair of mighty oaks. His back muscles flared out behind him like triumphant wings. And his pecs engorged, becoming a hulking pair of man tits that sagged deeply under their massive weight. His neck swallowed his head entirely, pushing his ears outward until they looked like the handles of a jug.
“OH, FUCK YEAH!” he roared, flexing proudly. “FUCK YEAH, BITCHES!!!”
Now so big it was difficult for him to move, he staggered across the stage to lord his newfound magnificence over the cowering, blobby football players. They gaped at him in disbelief as he flexed his ridiculously huge muscles, chuckling with happiness.
“Hmmm, all those muscles kinda make his dick look small, dontcha think?” Madame Droulx mused, looking from Tate to the audience. “Whaddaya think, folx? Should we give him their dick size, too? Really make ‘em pay?”
Jesse’s stomach curdled when this was met with jubilant agreement from the crowd. Droulx didn’t notice or care what he thought, though; she was already robbing the team’s peters to pay Paul, or Tate in this instance. With a flick of her wrist, the bulging pouches of the footballer’s jockstraps deflated like empty sacs, the overstretched material collapsing to hang listlessly empty. The jocks stared downward, appalled, as they lost almost every inch of their prized endowments and their substantial low-hangers shrank up in their empty ballsacs, now barely the size of marbles.
Tate’s glee knew no bounds as his already generous cock took on truly herculean proportions, shooting outward only to collapse under its new weight to hang down well past his knees. It thickened to the size of a fat log. And his balls, now almost too massive for their own good, sagged like leaden weights below his knees. They were bigger than a pair of cantaloupes and equally as heavy. His overly tight foreskin followed suit, lengthening prodigiously but getting even tighter in the process. When it was done with its growth spurt, the tiny, thin straw-like ‘skin now mopped the floor at Tate’s big feet.
Tate didn’t give a fuck, though. He was too busy exulting over the sudden windfall of a bloated cock and balls to care about the ramifications. He wobbled about the stage, a caricature of a musclehead with a caricature of a donkey-dong drooping between his thick thighs. He didn’t care about anything besides being a true alpha, the biggest and baddest jock to ever grace the surface of the earth.
The audience egged him on and, for the first time, Jesse became aware of something: There was as much ridicule in the crowd’s tone as praise. His skin prickled as he understood belatedly that the audience didn’t actually find Tate attractive. Instead, they were glorying in his downfall as he became a bigger and bigger freak. Rather than cheering him on, they were rooting for his destruction. Worse than this, Jesse realized he felt the same way; he wanted Tate’s fall to be as jarring, humiliating and painful as possible. What did that make him?
“Alright, alright,” Droulx said after the crowd had grown rowdy enough. “Tate’s become a true superlative, the biggest dick, the largest balls, the hairiest body, and the giant-est muscles. It’s time to add the Ace of Spades to this towering house of cards. The capstone. The final straw.”
Jesse braced. Even Tate, carried away by euphoria as he was, seemed to sense the malignancy of these words. The crowd fell into hushed expectancy; they were waiting breathlessly for the inevitable, the finale they knew was coming: Tate’s downfall.
Madame Droulx flounced over to the football jocks, or what was left of them. They looked particularly pathetic now with their bloated guts and empty jockstraps. It was clear they would never need to wear a jockstrap again for the rest of their lives; they no longer had anything to protect down there!
“How ‘bout we take one last thing from you and give it to our big pa-Tater here?” The jocks shrank away and would have fled the stage had they been able to. Droulx’s lip lifted at their meekness and she turned back to the audience. “Can you guess what I’m gonna take from these fine, upstanding men and give to our overly-endowed Tate?”
Silence.
The madame’s eye glittered and her collagen-enhanced lips pulled upward to reveal sparkling white teeth. She tilted her head at Tate, purring, “How ‘bout you, stud? What else should I give you?”
Tate was frozen in place and not because of Droulx’s strange geas. As Jesse watched him, the shit-eating grin disappeared from his thickly-bearded face. His jaw hung open, a look of dread crossing his features.“No, I’m fine!” he rumbled. “Really! I’m good the way I am. I don’t need anything else.” His voice had deepened and, while he still sounded reasonably bright, the unnatural bass of his voice also made him sound a bit thick-headed. He stood there, clearly straining under the weight of his immense muscles and gargantuan cock and balls. It was almost painful to look at him.
“Oh, I think yer wrong,” Droulx hissed, drawing herself to her full height. Her eyes shone red in the glare of the spotlights; she looked demonic. “You need one more thing. Well, several more things, actually. How old are you, my boy?”
Tate’s eyes widened and he struggled to resist the urge to answer. He was, of course, far too deeply under Droulx’s influence and couldn’t help but stammer, “Tw-tw-tw-twenty two.”
“Such a tender age!” the madame exclaimed. She turned back to the audience, asking, “He’s really far too young to be this…developed…isn’t he? I mean, guys his size have to work their entire lives to get this big. It takes years and years and years of determination and steroids, lots and lots and lots of ‘roids! And our Tate here has achieved it all in the blink of an eye. Hardly seems fair, does it?”
This was met with a chorus of agreement from the crowd. As their cheering grew stronger, Tate’s face paled beneath his beard. He put up his huge mitts, motioning so frantically it made his giant muscles sway ponderously. “No! No! I don’t know what yer thinking but I don’t need anything else! You can stop here!”
Droulx ignored him. She had already turned back to the former football jocks. From their physiques, however, it was clear they would never play football again. “Whaddaya think, boyz,” she asked, her voice a forbidding whisper, “what do ya think ‘bout gifting Tate the years he needs to grow into his body?” She paused as a light went on in her head and she added, “and, just to show you I’m not a total stinge, I’ll gift ya something in return. You’ll each give him ten years of your age and he’ll give you each ten points of his IQ. There!” she concluded brightly. “Isn’t that a fair trade? I realize ten IQ points each isn’t much but, trust me, you’ll need every point you can get now that you’ll never play football again.”
Tate gaped at her, his eyes filling with tears. The crowd, however, couldn’t have been happier with this proposal. And, if Jesse was being completely honest, he was down with it, too. He hated Tate–hated him with a passion–and wanted him to pay in the worst way. It both scared and electrified him to realize this.
“N-N-No, puh-lease!” Tate begged, collapsing heavily onto his knees and causing the stage to sag beneath him. “Don’t! That’ll make me over seventy years old! And dumb! I don’t wanna be dumb!”
His pleading fell on deaf ears.
Madame Droulx had already flicked her mic at the football players. Jesse and the rest of the crowd stared in rapt expectation as the impossible happened yet again and the tall former jocks started aging in reverse. First their body hair fell out, sprinkling down on their splayed feet. Then their beards–once thick and virile–tumbled down like a rat’s nest, landing with a little puff of dust on the floor. Soon, they were completely hairless save for the mops of hair on their heads.
Then they began to lose height and weight, decreasing in size and stature as their bodies shrank ever smaller. Their arms turned into sticks and their legs grew spindly. Most of their flab disappeared as well and their waists contracted inward until their man-sized jockstraps were far too big for their slender frames. The straps slid off their scrawny waists and down their knobby knees to land in piles at their little feet.
The audience stared at the five prepubescent boys standing knock-kneed before them, their young faces full of shock, disbelief and embarrassment. Looking down at their crotches, the once-proud manly jocks goggled at their tiny, hairless pricks and nonexistent balls. Clapping their hands awkwardly over their shame, they looked up at Madame Droulx with terrified confusion. Just moments ago, they had towered over her and now they were barely up to her silicone-filled breasts.
“Sorry, boyz,” she drawled, relishing their humiliating. “Those lil’ pricks won’t get any bigger when ya go through puberty for the second time. Yer stuck with lil’ button dicks for the rest of yer lives. If yer lucky, you’ll find a big, strong, hung top to take care of you…but let’s not get ahead of ourselves! That won’t happen for at least another ten years!”
The small boys cringed and cowered, huddling together fearfully. Tears streaked their chipmunk cheeks and their lower lips were quivering.
“Now, obviously we aren’t gonna auction you off,” Droulx continued. “Yer too young now and that would be as immoral as it is illegal.” She motioned to her assistants, chiding, “Come, girls! Help the little tykes get dressed. They need their Underoos and blankies!” The attendant drag queens swooped down on the boys like over-protective mothers, helping them dress in more age-appropriate attire. When the little boys were each clad in a superhero t-shirt, buttoned shorts and a ballcap, Droulx nodded approvingly. “You might never grow up to be football jocks but at least you’ll have a bit more intellect to make something of yourselves. Yer better off this way, trust me.”
When they merely gaped up at her uncomprehendingly, she flicked her wrist dismissively, saying, “Now shoo! Off to nappy time with you! This auction is for adults only!”
She chortled as the assistants herded the squealing little brats off the stage and out the back of the club where a shuttle bus was waiting to whisk them away to an after-care program. When they were gone, she turned back to Tate, rubbing her taloned hands together. The big muscle-beast was standing there, quaking, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
At first, nothing happened.
And then, just when Tate began to hope that he had escaped Droulx’s cruel fate, she struck.
His muscular body began to bloat with all of the flab that the former football jocks had lost. His hulking muscles slowly became covered by an expanding layer of padding that engulfed them, erasing the stark contours and filling them with soft fat. He whined pitifully, eyes pleading with Droulx to make it stop. She merely sneered at his dismay.
When he was nearly as round as he was tall, his skin began aging, growing thinner and weathered and wrinkly until it hung off of him. His thick mane of brown hair receded even as it grew steadily whiter. Within a minute or two, he only had a horseshoe of gray hair left and his bald pate gleamed in the harsh spotlight. His face aged last and he went from a youth to a man to an old curmudgeon with a permanent scowl on his withered face.
His muscles weren’t immune from the onslaught of aging and grew saggy and misshapen as gravity took its toll. His joints groaned under the weight and he would have collapsed if one of the assistants hadn’t given him a walker. He fell forward, folding as much of his immense weight onto the metal frame as possible and wheezing with effort. He could barely lift his head to scowl at the audience as his back hunched into a rounded hump.
His cock and balls–already sagging under their incredible weight–weren’t immune and grew limp and listless between his bowlegs until it was obvious they were completely nonfunctional. All the plump tumescence drained out of his giant sausage and, when it was over, his cock looked like a deflated balloon. It dangled lifeless and useless between his heavy legs. Even his pubic hair turned gray. One ‘blessing’ was that his too-tight foreskin slackened as he aged, turning into a thick, empty sleeve that lay in a crumpled pile at his boney feet.
Jesse and his teammates gaped at Tate’s misfortune, their delight at seeing him brought low tempered by the knowledge that they, too, might soon face a similar fate. The audience, on the other hand, shouted their full-throated approval for Droulx’s deviousness. Jesse swallowed, eyes going from Tate’s stooped, elderly, freakish body to Droulx and back.
For her part, the emcee was savoring her latest conquest. She swished across the stage like the malign diva that she was. Tate, bowed under the weight of age and muscle, opened his mouth to berate her but stopped when his yellowed teeth fell out, clattering ignominiously to the floor.
And then her final curse took hold and he soon found it impossible to form the words to express himself. Jesse stared in alarm as sharpness faded inexorably from Tate’s eyes, leaving him dull and dim-witted. His thin, lined lips went slack and his mouth fell open, exposing his toothless gums. For a moment, it looked like he might actually say something but then the last hint of intellect departed and he was left a drooling, addled oaf.
Droulx watched him with a wicked smile. Jesse knew that she had planned this from the beginning, that the horrid drag queen had intended to build Tate up only to tear him down again. She got off on it! The fucking bitch was getting off on it!
But she wasn’t alone.
The sad truth was that he did, too. His tiny pecker was throbbing painfully and he winced, appalled at himself for getting off on Tate’s misfortune. He couldn’t help it, though. He fucking loved seeing Tate like this!
“Let’s start the bidding for Grandpa Tate, shall we?” Droulx asked in a sunny voice. When this was met with stony silence from the crowd, she looked at them in mock surprise. “What? No one wants to bid on an ugly, fat, dumb, old man? Tsk, tsk! You’re all as shallow as you are ageist!” Her words might have been scolding but her tone was merry.
She laughed at her ‘jest’ and the audience joined in, heaping their derision and scorn on Tate. Never had someone risen so rapidly only to fall so low! It took all five of Droulx’s assistants to help the huge, old, decrepit man off the stage. Jesse found out later that they had called a cattle truck and hauled him off to the nearest nursing home.
***
Chapter 6
With the football team and Tate gone, that left only Kyle, Jesse and Edwin on the stage. The spotlights zoomed in on them but it was Jesse who was on center stage and his light was the brightest.
“Jesse.”
Madame Droulx’s voice was a silken whisper and Jesse froze, hoping that if he remained still, the horrible drag queen would sniff him and decide he was dead. This plan, of course, was nonsense and he was soon staring up at her with terror in his eyes.
“You don’t know it but you won before you even stepped up on the stage.” The crowd, restless after the football team and Tate’s ignominious transformations, grew silent with these words. The madame smiled, her red lips twisting into a predatory leer. “That’s right, my boy. Even before you set foot in this bar, you had already fetched the highest price ever.” She turned to the audience, her cheap feather boa shivering across her big shoulders.“TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS! That’s right. You heard me, everyone! Our little Jesse here has already been sold for twenty thousand dollars.”
Jesse, Kyle and Edwin jumped in surprise at this but the announcement was met with a firestorm of confusion and rage from the audience. Clearly, people were upset that they didn’t get a chance to bid on Jesse. For his part, Jesse was just as confused as everyone else. Who could have bid on him before he even entered the bar?
It didn’t take long for him to guess the answer. He lifted his head and stared past Madame Droulx, searching the darkened crowd for a familiar face. He didn’t find him, though. The lights were too bright and he looked away to avoid being blinded.
Madame Droulx didn’t notice. She was too busy trying to stifle a brewing rebellion. The angry consensus from the audience was that people didn’t like the fact that Jesse was beyond their grasp. They wanted their chance at him and were furious to learn the system had been rigged against them. Finally, people began lobbing fruit and ice cubes from their drinks on the stage, Droulx was forced to capitulate. Wiping strawberry from her face, she surrendered. “Ok! Ok! I give up! I’ll open the bidding on Jesse. The minimum bid, however, stands at twenty thousand dollars.”
A chorus of boos erupted at this announcement and someone yelled, “But he’s not done yet! You need to finish with him first!”
Droulx thought about this for a moment before her face broke into a munificent smile. “I’ll tell you what, my dah-links, if you bid more than twenty thousand dollars on Jesse, you will get to decide what happens to him next. Does that sound good?” Apparently, it did. The audience cheered and the madame perked up, straightening up from the crouched position she’d adopted to dodge pelted fruit.
“Allllllllright,” she drawled, back on firm footing now that the audience had been placated. She turned to the big screen poised behind Jesse and raising her arms, commanded, “Let the bidding begin!”
It was over quickly.
Only one person placed a bid and that was for $20,001. When Droulx called the winning bid, the house lights came up and she entreated, “Will the winner come up on stage, please?”
Jesse immediately looked out into the crowd, zeroing in on the place at the bar where he’d last seen Jairo. The big man, however, was nowhere to be seen. His chest deflated and he held his breath, waiting haplessly for the winner to claim him. It’s gonna be some old guy, I know it! he thought, eyes dropping to his feet. What the fuck am I gonna do? I can’t let some old dude touch me! Not when I look like this! He caught sight of his tiny prick and wide thighs, shuddering in revulsion. I look like a fuckin’ freak!
“Jessé.”
He looked up, nearly fainting with relief.when he met Jairo’s soft eyes. The big jock was standing before him on the stage, looking awkward and–what was this?–shy? (Jairo, shy? Really?) Jesse swallowed, unable to believe this was happening. Jairo had bid twenty thousand dollars on him! Jairo wanted him! This was followed quickly by the inevitable question: Jairo was gay?!
“I’m sorry, Jessé.” Jairo swallowed, his huge Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as Jesse stared wide-eyed up at him. His voice was so deep, so masculine, so commanding…and yet so gentle. “I did this to you. I…I don’t blame you if you’re mad and you don’t want anything to do with me.”
Jesse had to lean forward to hear him. The crowd was agitated, both cheering and jeering Jairo and Madame Droulx. And then there were Edwin and Kyle. The two (former) jocks, who were still frozen in place on either side of Jesse, raged at Jairo. Unlike Jake who was dumb as a stump, both men still had all their faculties and it didn’t take long for them to realize who was to blame for their predicament: Their beloved team captain had set them up! It was, after all, none other than Jairo who had talked them into participating in the auction in the first. And then he’d bowed out at the last minute, saving his own skin. While they had suffered indignity after indignity, he’d been sitting on the sidelines sipping his beer and enjoying the show.
“Whenth I geth outtha herth,” Kyle lisped, “Imth gonnath killth youth!” The pathetically altered jock meant to be menacing but instead sounded comical with his breathy, high-pitched voice.
Edwin wisely kept his mouth shut because he’d already chipped enough teeth with his huge piercing. He had to content himself with staring daggers at Jairo. It was clear, though, that he would have strangled the big, beefy jock if he’d been able to move.
Jairo ignored everyone but Jesse. He loomed over him, a tower of muscle with an incongruously pleading expression in his brown eyes. When he straightened and cleared his throat, the whole room fell silent. Such was Jairo’s authority; his every movement telegraphed his dominance. He didn’t even need to speak to get everyone to shut up.
“I will give up my bid,” he said in a low voice that nonetheless carried across the hushed bar. “If Jessé doesn’t want to be my boyfriend.”
Jesse’s eyes went wide. It was telling, though, that his first reaction wasn’t anger or rage or even hatred. Instead, he demanded, “But what about Flavia?”
Jairo’s bushy eyebrows went up. “Flavia? What about her?”
“She’s your girlfriend!” Jesse huffed, annoyed by Jairo’s denseness. “Are you going to date both of us?”
Jairo’s mouth fell open. “Flavia’s my sister! Did you think she’s my girlfriend?” He laughed, wiping his sweaty brow. “You didn’t know I’m gay?”
Jesse shook his head, cheeks coloring. As the excitement died down, he was beginning to feel very awkward and embarrassed standing naked in front of Jairo. Somehow knowing that Jairo was gay only made him feel more awkward…and something else, too. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling himself grow aroused. Jairo didn’t notice, though, probably because–thanks to Droulx and her curse–Jesse didn’t have a cock shaft any longer; there was nothing to betray his arousal other than the fact that his glans grew slightly bigger and redder.
“Well, I am gay,” Jairo stated. “And I’ve been hot for you from the beginning. Haven’t you noticed?” When Jesse shook his head again, too tongue-tied and embarrassed to reply, he continued, “I, uh, well, I decided to use the auction as an opportunity to see if you were attracted to me, too, and…um, you know, do stuff to you. Stuff to, er, make you a little more–” His voice broke and Jesse noticed that, beneath his dark skin and thick beard, Jairo was flushed bright red.
“Oh, how sweet!”
They both looked over at Madame Droulx as she flounced across the stage toward them. Unlike, well, every other time the drag queen uttered a word, this time her voice was not tinged with sarcasm or malice. She seemed genuinely touched by Jairo’s admission of love. Jesse looked from her to Jairo, understanding belatedly that the pair were friends. Indeed, Jairo reached out and gave the madame a little fist bump.
Droulx was watching Jesse closely and smiled when she saw that he had finally put two and two together. “This man,” she indicated Jairo (who was now studying his feet, too shy to look at Jesse), “has spent the last two years sobbing to me over beers about how the one guy he loves more than anyone else in the whole world is completely oblivious to his presence.” She paused to roll her eyes at Jairo. “Well, a girl can only take so much and finally last month I grew tired of telling him to confess his feelings for you and devised the perfect win-win situation: I could both relieve Jairo of all that excess cash burning a hole in his pocket and get him the prize he’s been pining for: You.”
Jairo’s eyes darted up to Jesse’s face before darting back down to his big feet. “I, uh, sold off some Bitcoin,” he explained sheepishly, “right before the market tanked. Madame Droulx assured me it was more than anyone would ever bid.” He stuck his big hands in his pockets. “Guess she was right.”
“Am I ever wrong?” Droulx’s leer was back but there was also something else, something unfamiliar on her face. Was it…affection? Whatever it was, it made her seem a lot less sinister.
Jairo ignored her. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself to ask the burning question. “Jessé, I know what I’ve done to you is wrong and I won’t blame you for hating me.” He met Jesse’s eyes again before looking away. “And I know that I could have Madame Droulx turn you gay but I don’t want to do that. Instead, I want you to tell me honestly: Will you date me?”
Jesse had a lump in his throat.
And a pulsing choad between his legs.
He looked down at his horribly transformed body, taking in his diminished stature, fat thighs and even fatter buttocks. His tiny cock and huge balls drawn up in their sac. He looked like a total freak and he knew that he’d never play soccer again. And this was all because of Jairo. Jairo had lied to him, set him up and allowed Madame Droulx to do unspeakable things to him and his friends.
But…
But…
But, try as he might, he couldn’t make himself be mad at Jairo. His cheeks colored when he realized that he felt the exact opposite. Instead of being angry, he was happy in a perverse way that Jairo had tricked him. He liked it. He really liked it! It was crazy and fucked up but he was fuckin’ turned on as shit that Jairo had taken advantage of him and turned him into a total freak without his knowledge or consent.
Close on the heels of this revelation, came another one: He loved Jairo.
He loved him to pieces. He’d been attracted to the big jock for as long as he could remember but hadn’t understood his feelings until tonight. Besides, he’d thought Jairo was straight and dating Flavia. Now that he knew that Jairo wanted him and, more than that, that the jock would do anything to get him…well, a torrent of love and lust for Jairo flooded over him, leaving him gasping for breath and on fire with horniness.
“I will,” he breathed so softly only Jairo could hear him. The big stud lifted his eyes hopefully, face breaking into a huge grin. “I will date you, Jairo. I am really attracted to you, too.”
Jairo’s loud whoop of exultation echoed through the bar. And then he was hugging Jesse tightly, pulling him against the solid wall of his huge muscles. Their lips met and they were kissing. Jairo’s thick tongue filled Jesse’s mouth and his big hands fell down to grab his mounded buttocks. Jesse moaned, throwing his head back and allowing Jairo to savage him. He’d never felt so happy to be used and assaulted in his life. He invited Jairo to take him, surrendering himself completely to the big, muscly, sweaty and beer-soaked man.
Their tender and hungry display won over the audience. Instantly, the atmosphere turned jubilant as the pair of jocks became increasingly amorous. Only Kyle and Edwin were unaffected. Their faces were contorted with hatred and disgust. Edwin found Jesse and Jairo’s display particularly distasteful and looked like he wanted to vomit. He murmured, “Fuckinth faggoths!” under his breath, careful not to move the huge nut skewering his tongue too much. The last thing he wanted was to lose more of his precious teeth!
Droulx let them make out for a while before breaking in. Jairo only let go of Jesse reluctantly. From the massive bulge in his tight jeans, Jesse could tell the dude was supremely turned on. And quite hung, too. The outline of Jairo’s fat schlong ran down his left pant leg, nearly reaching his knee.
And then, much to everyone’s delight, Jairo began stripping off his clothes. “Shit, if I’m gonna be up here with you guys, I might as well fit in,” he explained as he pulled his tight shirt up, revealing his taut, hairy tummy. Jesse stared hungrily as the jock–adopting his most seductive male stripper vibe–spun his shirt around an index finger before tossing it into the eager crowd. And then he got to work on his jeans, peeling his way out of them. He was going commando underneath and his thick, black pubes spilled out first before the girthy base of his man-sized cock emerged inch by inch by inch. By the time he’d worked his jeans down his thighs, Jesse’s eyes had already popped out of his head.
Jairo was hung like a stallion!
His mouth fell wide open and he stared hungrily at that immense tube steak, just as big and long as his choad was short and small.
Jairo misinterpreted Jesse’s reaction for alarm, apologizing, “Sorry, bro. I’m kinda big.” He glanced down at his massive endowment and then back up, brown eyes full of pleading. “I hope I’m not too big for you! I could, you know, have Madame Droulx take care of a few inches if you think–”
“NO!” Jesse shouted, startling Jairo and everyone else. He licked his lips. “Don’t do…anything…to that cock. Leave it just the way it is!”
Jairo gave him a goofy, proud grin and waggled his erection enticingly at him. The crowd oohed and ahhed at that masterpiece, so girthy and dripping with honey-like precum. Jesse’s mouth watered even as his cheeks flamed crimson with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe was acting like this in front of everyone. Where had his dignity gone? Another look at Jairo’s man-cock, though, and he was on his knees, begging the jock to suck him off. He’d never had a cock in his mouth but he was drooling like a dog at the prospect of stuffing that sausage in his face. Jairo’s erection had to be more than a foot long and was easily more than three inches in diameter. And he was uncut, too. His long foreskin darkened to black as it tapered into an elegant flute. Jesse had never seen a pretty foreskin before but he realized that was exactly the word to describe Jairo’s.
Madame Droulx stopped him before he could open his mouth and take Jairo inside. “Tsk tsk, Jesse!” she chided. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Right now, we have to finish you up. I want you to be perfect for Jairo. He deserves only the best, you know!”
Jairo stuck out his broad chest at these words, giving Jesse a radiant smile. Reaching down, he helped him to his feet. Jesse flushed with pride when Jairo placed a heavy arm over his shoulders and drew him in close. They stood there on the stage, side by side, the world’s newest and happiest boyfriends.
“Now, what does our bride-to-be need? Hmmm?” Droulx paced around in front of Jesse, mascaraed eyes raking him up and down as she intoned, “Something old, something new. Something borrowed, something blue…” Her eyes lit up and she stopped pacing. “The blue part is easy enough. You need the world’s biggest pair of blue balls!”
As she said this, Jesse staggered, clutching his nuts in their shriveled sac. There was a piercing pain and he cried out as they swelled, growing huge in a matter of seconds. His eyes watered as he cradled his newly engorged testicles. They were throbbing and aching with an intense yet familiar feeling. He was dying for release! He looked from his huge, swollen nuts to Jairo’s bobbing erection, filled with an insatiable desire to get off.
Beside him, Edwin lifted his head and let out a howl. Distracted from his blue balls, Jesse turned to find the frat president holding his own nuts. He was still wearing the same pair of tiny red briefs that had once been merely snug but, now that he was fat, the rolls of his love handles spilled over the perilously stretched waistband.
“Youth tookth my ballsth!” he yelled at the madame in between howls, his tongue piercing shattering another tooth. “Youth fuckinth bitchth! Youth tookth my ballsth!”
Droulx smirked. “You’re so observant, Edwin. Don’t worry, though, I’m going to give you something even better to take their place. But that’s later. For now, I need you to shut up.” Rage and indignation flared in Edwin’s eyes–No one ever told him to shut up!–but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. Madame Droulx’s smile deepened. “That’s better. You’re much more attractive when you’re seen but not heard, Edwin.” Edwin growled menacingly at this but was forced to remain mute. Droulx turned back to Jesse whose huge, new pair of bull balls were aching for release. (Unlike his balls, his nutsac was still just as tight as ever, adding to his torment; his enlarged testicles were filling it beyond capacity.) “Now, let’s me. Hmmm, something old, something new, something borrowed…”
“Take something from me,” Jairo offered, startling everyone. “It’s only fair.” He turned to Jesse, concerned by his new boyfriend’s discomfort. “What do you want, bro?” He held out his beefy arms, giving Jesse the full view of his magnificence. “Anything. You can take anything!”
Jairo was an impressive man. Standing well over six feet tall and possessing a body more like a rugby player’s than a soccer star’s, he was replete with muscles and lots of wiry, black hair. Bearded and not manscaped in the least, he exuded virility, a fact underscored by his giant erection and sagging balls. Everything about him was big, including his sizable rear end. As if to underscore this fact, Jairo turned and presented his ass to the audience, shaking his hulking globes and eliciting a roar of applause in response.
“Aren’t you generous just like your buttocks?” Droulx purred. “Be careful, though, Jairo. You might lose something precious!”
Jairo shrugged. “I’m not worried.” The big jock, Jesse noticed, had gotten over his shyness and was relishing all of the attention. The truth was, however, that Jairo had eyes only for him. He was so giddy with delight at finally winning Jesse’s heart that he barely noticed anyone else.
“I know what I want.” Jesse’s voice sounded breathless even to his own ears and his eagerness evoked laughter from the audience.
Jairo stroked Jesse’s head happily as Madame Droulx flounced over to hold her microphone out to him. “Tell us, dah-link,” she urged. “Tell us what you want from our big, handsome stud here.”
Jesse took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. His heart was pounding and his choad was hard as an apple between his hairy thighs. “For something borrowed,” he began, “I’ll take Jairo’s dirtiest jockstrap. I wanna wear it til it falls off!”
Startled cheers from the audience. Madame Droulx’s eyebrows lifted up toward her wig and Jairo’s cheeks flushed scarlet. But Jesse’s wish had already come true: Girding his oversized loins was the sweatiest, stinkiest, most stained jockstrap known to man. Jairo apparently had a prized jock that he’d been working out in since he turned fifteen and had never once washed it. The jockstrap’s pungent, mushroomy odor filled the room, making everyone’s eyes water. It was like the sweetest perfume to Jesse’s nose, though, and Jairo’s man-stink only made him even hornier.
Jesse wasn’t finished yet, though. “And for something old…and rank,” he stated, fondling the soggy pouch of Jairo’s dirty jockstrap as it cupped his newly engorged testicles. “I wanna smell just like Jairo’s crotch for the rest of my life. I know he doesn’t like to wash much and always stinks so good when he’s all sweaty after practice.”
Jairo was gazing at Jesse with stunned disbelief, followed rapidly by pride. Clearly, he didn’t realize how attentive Jesse (and his nose) had been to his odors nor how kinky his new boyfriend would prove to be. It turned out, though, that the auction had awakened Jesse’s inner pervert as much as it had his nascent queerness and he was intent on embracing this aspect of himself. He had to make up for lost time, you know!
And so it was! Jesse’s hairy body took on Jairo’s deep, rich, potent crotch-scent. Combined with the odor of his nasty jockstrap, the miasma of man musk was almost too much. It drove everyone nearby–even repressed Edwin–mad with lust. Jesse stood proudly looking up at Jairo as his body exuded a cloud of manly aroma. While maybe not exactly old, the odors wafting off of him were certainly those of a mature man’s unwashed body. And not just any mature man: He reeked head to toe of Jairo.
Jesse inhaled deeply, euphoria washing over him like Jairo’s musky odor. For the rest of his life, he would smell like this no matter how often he showered. And he loved it! He loved it not only because it turned him on but also because it made him feel close to Jairo even on those rare occasions when they were separated. And Jairo was equally as fortunate because he was rewarded with Jesse’s own pungent man-scent; thanks to Droulx’s deviousness they had traded each other’s body odors.
Droulx covered her nose with a silken handkerchief, saying in a muffled voice. “My, my! You boys really do smell, don’t you? It’s like an old barn in here now!” Everyone laughed except Edwin and Kyle who both looked like they wanted to throw up. For their parts, Jesse and Jairo were too busy inhaling and savoring each other’s musk to notice. The madame observed them, a fond smile on her face before prompting, “That just leaves something new…”
Jairo shook himself out of his reverie. His big cock was still hard as ever, wagging back and forth like a long pole. “For that,” he said, “why don’t you give him my muscles? I’ll take his fat in return.” When Jesse barked in protest, Jairo held up his hands, placating, “It’s only fair, bro! You’ve given up so much already.”
Madame Droulx, however, would have none of it. “No!” she scolded. “I forbid it! I won’t do it!” She paused to eye Kyle, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Besides, I already have a muscle-donor in mind for Jesse. If he’s still gonna be a jock, he’s gotta lose some of that fat and put on some muscle!”
Kyle’s face drained of color and he held up his hands, trying to ward off the madame’s nefarious plan. “Noth!” he lisped in his high voice. “Donth! Pleath! Donth takth my muth-thls!”
“My dear.” Droulx’s tone was patronizing. “What good are such big, manly muscles on a tiny, helpless twink like you?” She waved dismissively as the audience snickered. “Pffft! You don’t need them anymore! Let them be gone!”
Just like that, the impressive, bulging muscles on Kyle’s upper body drained away much like his muscly lower body had wasted away a half hour ago when he’d been forced to give his thighs, ass and quads to Jake. For a moment, he was left looking like a little stick figure with a skinny dick and cherry-sized balls but then his frame expanded once again, this time with Jesse’s fat. He looked down at himself and mewled in despair as his body filled out, growing fuller and rounder and softer.
Unlike poor Edwin, who was left a shapeless blob, Kyle became quite curvaceous as he plumped up. His face lost its rugged masculinity as his cheeks grew rounder and fuller. His lips stuck out in a perennial pout and his blue eyes looked huge and sad as he stared at Jesse.
Jesse didn’t notice. He was too preoccupied with the miraculous transformation that his lower body was undergoing. All of the ponderous flab drained away from his languid buttocks as they filled out with muscle. In seconds, the fat had disappeared and he’d grown a pair of glutes that would put an Olympic speed skater to shame. His quads followed suit and soon he looked ungainly with such enormous thighs and that wide, jutting shelf for a butt.
Decidedly bottom-heavy, he looked like the ridiculous offspring from the menage-a-trois between a hockey player, baseball pitcher and competitive cyclist. Such was the super-sized enormity of his buttocks and quads. In a way, though, all that ass muscle was also a gift. He might look awkward waddling around on land but he became graceful as a swan when he donned a pair of skates and glided off onto the ice…or, in the summer season, when he mounted the (extra wide) saddle of a bicycle. He’d never again be an agile soccer jock but he would go on to break many world records in cycling and skating as a result of Kyle’s gift.
Jairo’s big cock spasmed and a jet of cum spurted out as he took in Jesse’s mutantly huge bottom and thunderous quads…all on a little guy who barely came up to his bulging pecs. “Fuck, bro,” he guffawed, catching his dribbling cum in a big hand, “you look…uh, you look…Oh, fuck me! You look fuckin’ awesome!”
All of Jesse’s initial horror at being transformed into a big-bottomed freak had disappeared the moment Jairo had professed his love for him. Now, he didn’t give a fuck what he looked like as long as Jairo found him attractive. He beamed up at his big, sexy, aroused boyfriend, gushing, “Do whatever ya want to me, man! Make me yer freak! I love it!”
“Awww, you two are so sweet!” Madame Droulx cooed as she watched them. “And I didn’t even have to make Jesse gay or force him to embrace his new freakdom! How often does that happen?” She laughed and poked the still-dribbling Jairo in the ribs. “Guess ya were right ‘bout him all along. Lil’ Jesse juss needed a little…push…and his inner freak would come screaming out of the closet!”
Jesse didn’t hear her. He stood up on his tiptoes and, flinging his arms around Jairo’s bull neck, proceeded to make out with him again. They came together in a crush, Jairo’s cock thrusting between his thighs and his big hands kneading those award-winning ‘golden globes’ with relish.
Cheeks coloring, Madame Droulx turned to survey the remaining pair on stage, the very unhappy looking Kyle and Edwin. Seeming to savor their antipathy, the big drag queen waltzed over to Kyle and looked him in the eye. Kyle’s wide, baby-blue eyes stared back at her, tears trickling down his bearded cheeks. “You’re too hairy,” she pronounced. “A girly little twink like you should be smooth all over.”
This made Kyle’s already wide eyes go even wider. He tried to back away from her but found it impossible because he was frozen in place. Instead, he leaned back as far away as possible. “Noth! Pah-leeth!” he begged in his sex kitten voice. “Don’th do ith!”
Too late.
Just like Edwin before him, Kyle was robbed of every last follicle of body hair. Unlike Edwin, though, he kept the hair on his head and his eyebrows. In fact, the hair on his head thickened further into a luxurious brown mane. Newly-grown bangs slid like a seductive curtain over his blue eyes as he peered sadly back at Droulx. At that moment, his beard tumbled off his cheeks, landing like a discarded Merkin at his little feet. Defenestrated of his pubes, his little pencil dick and minute balls looked even more forlorn.
The big, dominant, arrogant jock’s body was no more; Kyle had become the consummate twink, soft and smooth and undefined except for his decidedly voluptuous bottom. Despite his appearance, though, he still possessed his macho attitude. The way he thrust out his soft, doughy chest with its newly enlarged, pink nipples was almost laughable.
“Come, come, Kyle!” Madame Droulx chided. “Still persisting in your deluded belief that yer a macho jock? Well, I have news for you, my boi. Never again. Nope. Not gonna happen! You know why?” Kyle opened his mouth at first but then thought better of it and kept quiet. His round, soft face was filled with hatred, though. Droulx sneered down at him, capping his humiliation when she informed him, “Your attitude and your beloved heterosexuality are gone now. From this moment forward, you are the world’s hungriest cockslut. All you want is a big, fat, throbbing cock up yer wide bottom. The longer and fatter the better!”
Kyle gasped in terror at these words but even then the audience could see his demeanor shifting. All of the macho cockiness drained out of him and he became meek and shy and timid. Shrinking back in alarm from the looming madame, he wet his full lips and cried out, “Ooh! Ooh! Someone fuck me! I need to ride a big man-cock now!”
His blue eyes filled with tears as he uttered the demeaning plea and it was obvious that he was fighting with all his might to keep his mouth shut. The old, hetero Kyle was still alive and well inside this shrinking, femmed-out violet but he was imprisoned and impotent. Condemned to fight a losing battle, ‘hetero Kyle’ would struggle for the rest of his life to resist the unholy urge to ride a long, thick cock. He’d never win, though. No, the little cockslut in him would always emerge victorious with dick stretching out his gaping hole.
Jesse–the unknowing recipient of the gift of Kyle’s body fur–barely noticed the fragrant pelt of wiry, brown hair sprouting everywhere on his body. It was concentrated mostly around his groin, ass crack and armpits, the smelliest parts of a man’s body. The increase in his body odor only added fuel to the lustful flames consuming him and Jairo and he moaned happily when Jairo’s hands grabbed fistfuls of his thick, rich body hair and yanked him closer.
Kyle fetched a high price when Droulx auctioned him off, raking in over ten thousand dollars. The winner–much to his delight and humiliation–was a big, hairy man with a cock to match his stature. The towering stud sauntered up to claim his prize and Kyle trembled with excitement. His little cocklet was standing out straight as a pin from his smooth crotch. Kyle stared up at his new boyfriend through the veil of his bangs, soft, full lips forming an “O”.
“Let’s not waste another minute, baby,” the winner growled, already loosening his belt. “Hop on my cock!” With that, he dropped his pants and his giant cock sprang free, already fully erect and longer than a normal guy’s forearm. Spitting into his palm, he slicked up his monster and then spun the horrified and eager Kyle around and thrust his big cock deep inside that tight, virgin chute. Kyle’s lips parted and he screamed, both in agony and ecstasy. His fate was sealed and he became the most wanton cockslut to ever flounce across the earth. From that moment onward, his stretched-out hole was never far from a hard cock…or several at once.
***
Chapter 7
“And then there was Edwin.”
Madame Droulx turned upon the hapless frat boy after Kyle and his new man had made their way off the stage. (They didn’t make it very far off the stage. Taking up position next to Jake and his rutting boyfriend, they commenced fucking like crazy, Kyle’s coos of delight ringing through the bar.) Edwin regarded Droulx stonily, still clad only in his too-tight pair of red briefs. Those briefs were mostly empty now that the madame had stolen his balls in order to give Jesse an oversized pair. His blobby body was pale and completely hairless. Even his eyebrows were history, something that made him look extra freaky.
Despite this, Edwin was still handsome. Even hairless and neutered–or maybe because he was hairless and neutered?–he still drew more than his share of attention. And maybe because Madame Droulx was getting tired and ready for the auction to be over, she decided to take it (slightly) easy on him. After all, other than being an arrogant, rich, homophobic bully, he was a decent guy.
“I think I’ve been too harsh,” Droulx informed him. “And I think I was too hasty in rejecting Jairo’s generous offer.” She paused as if debating what to do. Finally, she sighed and nodded. “Yes, I will take Jairo up on his offer and siphon some of your fat off, giving it to him.”
Edwin perked up at this, a vain hope that he could still walk off the stage more or less unscathed written across his hairless face. For his part, if Jairo heard her, he didn’t show it. He was too busy driving his thick tongue down Jesse’s throat and massaging his boyfriend’s mountainous glutes. When his body began to expand with the gift of Edwin’s fat, the only reaction he gave was a contented moan.
Droulx was careful with where she gifted the fat, filling out Jairo’s already meaty buttocks to the point of obscenity. When she was done, his ass rivaled Jesse’s monstrosity and, like Jesse, he would have trouble finding shorts that he could squeeze his giant globes into. Unlike Jesse’s, though, Jairo’s ass was a lot softer and bouncier. It jiggled noticeably with every step, giving him an obvious sway. Jesse loved it! Even though he could never hope to fuck his boyfriend’s oh-so-generous ass, he loved to bury his face between those succulent mounds and eat out his hole. And sometimes when Jairo was feeling particularly horny, he’d let Jesse fuck him with a strap-on…but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
When the transfer was complete, Edwin possessed an average build and physique. He was still rather undefined and his body was quite soft but he looked good. Yeah, he looked Ok. He might be hairless and ball-less, but he had strong features. He was also confident, something that comes from having too much money and privilege, and it still oozed out of his pores despite having been taken down a few pegs.
Madame Droulx was satisfied with the deletion of a few excess pounds. Nodding to herself, she motioned to her assistants, still hovering expectantly in the wings, and they sauntered out onto the stage leading a group of very rough-looking guys. Clad in dirty jeans and tattered wife-beaters, several had cigarettes dangling out of the corner of their mouths and the others appeared to have chew packed inside their cheeks. Their heads were shaved and they wore thick-soled work boots. Their faces were distorted by ugly sneers. The most exceptional thing about them, though, was the number of tattoos and piercings covering their lean, sinewy bodies. Some of them even had facial and neck tattoos and more than one sported long, sharp spikes poking out of his skull. Yeah, a rough crowd. A very rough crowd.
Smirking, they approached Edwin, forming a ragtag ring around him as he sized him up. For his part, Edwin was torn between terror and revulsion at finding himself surrounded by such revolting specimens of humanity.
Madame Droulx read his mind and gave voice to his thoughts. “Do you think I forgot what you told me when you first walked up on the stage tonight, my dear Edwin?” He regarded her stonily even as he tried to shrink back from the horde of dirty, abrasive men enclosing him. “You said you hated losers more than anything. And, when pressed for details, you described to a tee these fine, upstanding members of our community.” She smiled munificently, gesturing to the gang of pierced and tattooed riffraff. They laughed at her words, a grating sound that made Edwin flinch.
“Before I open the bidding on you, Edwin,” Droulx continued, lips twisting. “I’m gonna do some trading. These fine gentlemen have all agreed to give you something of theirs so you can be just as fine and upstanding as they are.” She paused, savoring Edwin’s bark of protest. “Because we all know how desperate you are to be like them. Just. Like. Them.”
“Waith! Noth!” he cried, piercing clattering against his (remaining) teeth. “I don’th! I don’th wanna be likth them!”
“Oh, I’m afraid you do, Edwin. Very much.”
These words from Madame Droulx had a mysterious and yet by now familiar effect on Edwin. The audience watched in rapt attention as Edwin opened his mouth so wide that the enormous bolt piercing his tongue was quite visible. No sound came out, however. Instead, he froze like that with his mouth open, ready to yell in protest, as his eyes clouded. Soon, there were visible signs of the furious mental battle being waged inside his skull. He fought vigorously and valiantly against the madame’s compulsion.
Incredibly, he still struggled even as the bright light dimmed inexorably in his eyes. Collapsing to his knees, he stammered, “N-N-N-No. W-W-W-W-Wonth l-l-l-leth y-y-y-you…” He grabbed his bald skull and squeezed as if desperately trying to keep the intelligence and legendary self-discipline from draining away.
Jesse turned briefly away from Jairo to stare at the hapless frat. Even though Edwin’s superiority and hauteur had always grated on him, he felt a pang of sympathy for the guy as he lay crumpled on the stage, surrounded by the sneering, tattooed freaks. Whimpering pitifully, Edwin continued to struggle. He groveled at the booted feet, eyes searching for Madame Droulx. It was heartbreaking watching those eyes, always so erudite and piercing, fade duller and duller. And yet still he fought!
“Pleeth!” he begged. “Stopth!” Tears rolled down his smooth cheeks and his eyes were red-rimmed.
Jesse had never seen the dude debase himself in this way before. He was on the verge of asking Jairo to intervene when Edwin’s pleas abruptly stopped. Jesse looked back to find the ex-jock grinning like an idiot, drool running out of the corner of his mouth.
As he stared, Edwin opened his slack-jawed mouth, grunting, “Ha ha! I’m dumbth an’ horn-neee!”
The guys surrounding him laughed, a deep, guttural animalistic sound. They sounded basically like Edwin. Reaching down, one of the guys helped the naked frat to his feet. They clapped him on the back as he grinned stupidly at them, drool still dripping out of his mouth.
Standing there, Jesse saw that his posture and bearing had shifted noticeably. No longer holding himself stiffly erect with his shoulders stuck defiantly back, he slouched on the stage and folded his arms, scratching idly at an armpit. A look of both hunger and boredom filled his dull eyes. His mouth was slack and his gaze vacant. Perhaps most telling, his lower jaw now thrust forward, making him look like a belligerent bulldog.
He looked over at his new friends and grinned stupidly, grunting, “S’upth, broze? Wanna helpth meeth geth freeky?” Even as he lisped the words, an expression of pure horror and revulsion crossed his blocky, dumb face. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, though, and soon he was yanking his undies down around his ankles to show off his neutered crotch. “Lookth, guyths!” he announced. “I ain’th goth no ballsth!”
Jesse goggled at the bizarre sight of Edwin’s neutered crotch. His saggy ballsac was completely empty. There wasn’t a trace of his former low-hangers at all. With nothing to hold it up, his average-sized, circumcised cock dangled listlessly from his bald pubes. Jesse looked down at his soggy jockstrap–gifted to him by Jairo–and noted how the pouch was pleasantly stuffed. Pleasantly stuffed, that is, thanks to Edwin’s balls. He’d grown a swinging pair due to the former jock’s ‘gift’.
While everyone gaped at Edwin’s empty ballsac and his incredible transformation into a drooling freak, Madame Droulx turned to the audience, pronouncing, “Edwin is dead. All hail Dirty Eddie!”
Edwin–now Dirty Eddie–grinned stupidly at the sobriquet. His new ‘friends’ chortled, slapping him on the back and surveying his body. From their calculating expressions, they were deciding what to do next. How would they change him? Jesse shuddered to think what they had in mind.
He didn’t have to wait long to find out.
“Give ‘im some o’ my silicone!” one of the rough studs called out, turning to Madame Droulx. Jesse looked over and did a double take, seeing what he’d missed when the guy first walked out on stage. The man was wearing tattered jeans like the rest of the crew but the crotch of his pants was obviously way over-stuffed with something huge. It looked like he was smuggling a water balloon inside his jeans!
As everyone watched, the freaky dude pulled down his jeans. There were audible gasps when the giant tumor inside his pants flopped out. Jesse stared at it uncomprehendingly until the man yanked down his custom-made jockstrap. Only then did he understand what the guy had done to himself: His ballsac was filled with more than a liter of silicone! His cock–while probably decent-sized–appeared to be little more than a nub perched over that sloshing, gelatinous sac.
“I told you, Eddie,” Droulx was saying. “I told you that I would give you something even better to take the place of your balls. Behold your new scrotum!”
Was it Jesse’s imagination or was Eddie’s face distorted by a flicker of revulsion. If so, it was gone in a flash, replaced by an eager leer. Eddie guffawed, throwing his head back and thrusting out his neutered crotch as his drooping ballsac began to fill with ounce after ounce of silicone. Beside him, the ‘donor’ puffed out his chest, seemingly glad to finally be rid of the encumbrance depending heavily from his crotch. His silicone-filled sac gradually deflated, pulling up to become a normal-sized scrotum enclosing a pair of normal-sized balls. He heaved a sigh of relief, obviously tired from having to lug around such a big weight.
Dirty Eddie, on the other hand, now sported at least double the amount of silicone in his vastly over-stretched sac. It hung like a leaden weight, so massive and heavy that his knees bowed. Eddie stared down at the thing, a sick grin on his bulldog face. “Hahahaha,” he crowed, swinging his heavy sac to and fro between his thighs. “Lookth ath meeee! Meee freekth!”
“A freak, you say?” Droulx sneered. “Not even close.” Turning to the roughnecks surrounding him, she exhorted, “C’mon, bros! Do yer worst! Make Dirty Eddie into the biggest freak here!”
It all happened so quickly that Jesse was left reeling and Eddie…well, Eddie was too intoxicated with his rapid changes to even realize how indelibly altered he was. There were a series of loud pops, each one punctuated by a startled cry from Eddie as piercings–twice as big and heavy as those gifted him by his new buddies–appeared all over his body. His earlobes became stretched to the size of small saucers with ugly disks. His eyebrows, nose, lips, cheeks and the tops of his ears were studded with black metal rings. Three rows of spikes appeared on top of his bald pate. His nipples, once tiny and perfect, became hugely distended udders with a pair of iron knockers pulling them down toward his belly. His cock was loaded with so many piercings that it looked more like a protruding pincushion than a penis. And, when he turned and presented the audience with his big bottom, there was an unmistakable row of rings piercing his hairless taint.
Garish, ill-conceived and equally ill-rendered tattoos soon followed. Eddie stared in amazement as the skin around his ankles darkened with disturbing and erotic designs. The tats slowly wound their way up his calves and thighs, eventually covering every square inch of his lower body. Even his butthole wasn’t spared and he was soon sporting a huge black sunburst flaming out from his soft ass cheeks. Now an unmistakable target, that tender straight-boy rosebud was soon to be deflowered by a succession of bigger and bigger cocks as his new friends each took a turn at him.
The inexorable march of tattoos continued unabated, creeping up from his waist to cover his back, belly and chest. Eddie cooed with drunken delight as his neck disappeared under a black sea of ink. Soon the ink had covered the back of his head and his spiked scalp. For a brief moment, his dull eyes peered out at the audience surrounded by pink ‘raccoon patches’ – the only skin on his body left untainted. These soon disappeared forever, though, and Dirty Eddie was left completely tatted from head to toe. With his heavy piercings and even heavier ballsac, Eddie had trouble standing and staggered across the stage, clinking and rattling like a decrepit jalopy.
He would have talked but found it impossible to do so when his lower lip pushed out, desecrated by an ever-growing disk. The black, wooden disk grew and grew, not stopping until it matched the pair of saucer-sized ones disfiguring his earlobes.
When his transformation was complete, Eddie was the only freak left on the stage. The crew of formerly rough-looking guys surrounding him were as prim and proper and unblemished as the most conservative frat boys. They looked younger, too, having ‘gifted’ Eddie more than a few of their years. Poor Eddie! Age and gravity were already taking their toll and he looked decidedly drawn and haggard. His formerly flawless skin was saggy and stretched. The overwhelming vibe emanating from him was one of weariness…and hunger.
Even his newly advanced age couldn’t dim his ravenous hunger to be used and destroyed. As the now fresh-faced and studly group of young men unbuckled their belts and pulled down their jeans to reveal their raging boners, Dirty Eddie got down on his hands and knees, his enormously inflated ballsac cushioning him from below. Reaching back with wrinkled, inked and trembling hands, he peeled back his tatted and pierced buttocks to reveal his hungry hole. Grunting unintelligibly, he didn’t need to be able to form words because it was clear what he was craving.
And the newly-minted frat boys were only too happy to give it to him.
Jesse shuddered with a mixture of horror and desire as he watched Eddie lose his ass virginity repeatedly to the crew of eager hunks. Eddie had already taken a dozen or more loads when Madame Droulx opened up the bidding, allowing anyone from the audience who pledged at least fifty bucks to join the growing orgy on stage.
“C’mon, babe. Let’s go back to my place and celebrate.”
Jesse looked up and lost himself once again in Jairo’s soft, tender, hungry gaze. The big stud was smiling at him with such fondness that it took his breath away. Jairo reached down and, taking Jesse’s furry chin in hand, lowered his lips to kiss him. Jesse melted into his embrace and allowed Jairo and Madame Droulx to guide him off the (glitter and cum-covered) stage to a waiting limo that Jairo had rented for just this occasion.
Still naked, he settled onto Jairo’s wide lap and, arching his back, allowed his gorgeous boyfriend to pull him down for a passionate kiss as the driver closed the door and the limo pulled away from the curb. “I love you, Jessé,” Jairo murmured in between kisses. “I’ve always loved you.”
***
Jairo led him by the hand into his apartment. Jesse was still having trouble getting used to his shorter legs and the uncomfortable weight and heft of his giant buttocks. He stumbled more than once but Jairo caught him, eventually carrying him like a blushing bride across the threshold and into his bedroom. He deposited him gently on the covers and kissed his forehead before reaching down to pull a bottle of lube out from the bedside stand.
“You won’t need that,” Jesse informed him, looking shyly off to the side.
“Why not?” (Jairo’s voice was so deep and sexy!) “If we’re gonna–”
“I asked Madame Droulx for one last thing before we left,” Jesse revealed, cheeks coloring. “I asked her to give me a self-lubricating hole.”
Jairo’s eyes widened and his mouth formed an “O” as he processed this tantalizing and unexpected tidbit of information. And then his face broke into a feral grin and he reached down to run a calloused finger between Jesse’s eager, jock-strapped ass cheeks. He lifted it and sniffed it tentatively before licking the finger with relish. “Wet and sweet,” he pronounced. “The sweetest cunt juice I’ve ever tasted!”
Jesse’s brow furrowed. “And exactly how much ‘cunt juice’ have you tasted, bro?”
Jairo’s cheeks colored. “I, um, might’ve not tole the whole truth back there,” he admitted, looking down. “I’m bi, dude. And, um, Flavia was my girlfriend, not my sister.” He held up his big hands placatingly, though, when Jesse took an indignant breath. “But she’s not anymore! We broke up two years ago when I met you. And my big cock hasn’t been near a pussy since! Honest!” He shook his shaggy head, adding, “And you think you have blue balls! Try goin’ for more than two years without gettin’ laid, bro. It ain’t fun! Nope, no fun at all!”
Jesse knew he should be mad or at least concerned by this admission but, hey, he was bisexual, too! He’d fucked more than his share of pussy over the years but no one–man or woman or nonbinary or other–had ever popped his cork like Jairo. And he knew that no one ever would. Besides, he couldn’t fuck a pussy even if he wanted to; his choad was useless for penetration; Jairo had seen to that. Was it his boyfriend’s way of ensuring that he would never stray over to the other genders?
“I don’t give a fuck!” he panted. His blue balls were aching excruciatingly and he was horny as fuck for Jairo’s cock. He could feel warm, sloppy juices trickling out of his virgin butthole and wanted nothing more than for Jairo to bury his hulking cock to the hilt inside him. “Juss fuck the shit out of me! Make me into yer slutty whore! Stretch me out! I don’t give a fuck what you do but I have only one demand: The jockstrap stays on. You can pull it down and lick my pathetic little clit but you can’t take it off!”
Jairo was stunned by this outburst but he recovered quickly. “Heh, you really are a freak, aren’t ya? I knew it when I first met ya. You were too quiet, too uptight. You juss needed a big man to help ya outta yer shell.” He laughed at Jesse’s fevered gaze, urging him onto his hands and knees so he could enter him from behind. As Jesse spread his hairy thighs and revealed his swollen taint and tiny, hungry hole, the room filled with his rank man-scent–Jairo’s rank man-scent, that is–and Jairo grinned. “I gotta admit, you surprised me when you asked to wear my old, nasty ‘strap and to take on my body odor.” He paused to inhale deeply as Jesse stared hungrily back at him from over his shoulder. “But I like it. I really fuckin’ like it! Yer my lil’ freak!”
“Would ya juss shut up and fuck me already?!”
Jairo chuckled fondly, slapping him hard on the mountainous ass. Slicking up his leaking pole with a generous glob of Jesse’s cunt juice, he pulled back his long, black foreskin and positioned his swollen mushroom cap against that tender rosebud. “Ready, bro?” Jesse was past the point of speech and merely gurgled his affirmative. Jairo’s grin deepened and his big cock spasmed, jetting precum over Jesse’s moist folds. “Try an’ relax as much as ya can,” he warned. “‘Cuz, even though yer all lubed up, it’s still gonna hurt like a motherfucker the first time. After that, though, you’ll be permanently gaping and I’ll be able to fuck ya whenever and wherever I like.”
He didn’t lie. Jesse’s eyes rolled back in his head and he screamed as Jairo thrust deep inside him. The big stud pushed in fast, a merciful decision on his part, because it made the painful part blissfully brief. There was a sharp, acute pop as Jesse’s sphincter gave way, loosening just like Jairo had warned into a permanent gape.
And then Jairo was driving his monster deep inside Jesse’s chute, pummeling his prostate into delirious oblivion. They both came the first time in tandem, lifting their heads and hollering at the top of their lungs as Jairo pumped Jesse full of his milky, white seed. He filled him to overflowing and Jesse lay back, chest heaving, relishing all the glorious spew leaking out of his wide open hole.
It was paradise.
Getting fucked by Jairo was paradise.
He was so happy that the big, studly jock had turned him into an eager, little cockslut!
***
Epilogue
Jairo was making Jesse a Spanish omelet for breakfast the next morning when there was a knock at the door. Jesse shifted on his massive new ‘cushions,’ rueing his eagerness to ride Jairo’s big cock more than a dozen times the night before. His hole hurt like fuck and he wondered if he’d ever be able to walk somewhat normally again.
“I’ll get it, hon.”
Jairo cinched his bathrobe around his narrow waist, something that only accentuated the sheer magnitude of his own inflated ass cheeks. Jesse watched him in wonder, his little clit pulsing at the sight of those fat globes barely covered by the draping folds of white terrycloth. He was both touched and happy that Jairo had made his own sacrifices, too. It made him feel marginally better about the prospect of being seen in public now that he had a boyfriend with an equally big ass. They would make quite a sight waddling around with their oversized glutes wobbling back and forth behind them!
Jairo flung open the door to find a group of five boys standing with folded arms and looking up at him. Around ten years old and wearing oversized football jerseys that hung off their sticklike frames, Jesse thought they looked vaguely familiar. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later than the biggest one thrust out his lower lip and pouted, “You gotta take us in, bro. It’s the least ya can do!” The tyke wore a baseball cap askew on his little head and, beneath the football jersey, he had on a baggy pair of basketball shorts. Somehow, these adult items only served to make him look smaller and younger, though.
Jairo looked from the ragtag group of boys back to Jesse. “Uh, looks like it’s those football jocks from last night, hon. What should I do with ‘em? Tell ‘em to get lost?”
“You can’t do that, bro!” the ringleader protested. “We ain’t got nowhere to go!” He spread his thin arms wide as his little friends chirped their assent. “Our families don’t know us no more! Not after what ya did to us!” He hung his little head, the cap nearly slipping off onto the floor. “We don’t got nowhere no more. We’re screwed!”
When Jairo waffled, one of the boys thrust a sheaf of papers out to him. “Here, mister!” he squeaked. “It’s our ‘doption papers! The big, mean lady gave ‘em to us this mornin’. Yer our new dads!”
Jairo’s brow furrowed as he reached down to accept the papers. Then his eyebrows shot upward. “Holy fuck, hon!” he exclaimed, tearing his eyes off the papers to fix Jesse with a perplexed stare. “This ain’t juss their adoption papers. It’s our marriage certificate. According to this, we’re married and these here brats are legally our kids!”
***
WIP Topping's Blog: Male Transformation stories 