The Great Change: Reunited

The Great Change: Reunited

It was pretty clear from the moment that I woke up and realized I was in a different body that some unknown power had been nice to me. All across the world men and women were waking up in bodies they were unhappy with but thankfully I wasn’t one of those disappointed people. It was pretty hard to be disappointed when I went from a skinny kid still wearing braces to fix his wonky teeth at the age of seventeen to a muscular stud in his mid-twenties with a sweet chest tattoo and perfectly straight white teeth.

Those first few minutes in my new studly body as I listened to the scientists on the radio desperately try to explain the worldwide phenomenon were perfect. It was becoming pretty clear that every stress I had struggled from in my own body would be over as numerous doors were now open to me. I was now a classically handsome stud with six-pack abs, of course the world was going to treat me better than it ever had before!

I only had one concern left and that was for my two best friends, Donny and Peter. We had been together through thick and thin, sticking together despite continued harassment from the other boys at our high school who were all much bigger and stronger than us. They were brothers to me and I couldn’t help but worry about where they’d ended up after what people were already calling ‘The Great Change’. More than anything I hoped they’d been as lucky as I had.

The world was pretty crazy for the first few days and social media was unreliable at best so it took some time for me to finally track down Donny and Peter. Both assured me that they were happy with how the Great Change had affected them which pleased me and within two weeks we were reunited in the big city, thousands of miles away from our unhappy lives back in our small town.

Donny found himself switched into a body that was rocking a whole load more ink than even my own new body but it suited him well. His two full sleeves and some sick chest tattoos caught my eye immediately and I couldn’t help but stare at him in wonder. His handsome face and happy-go-lucky personality blended well, creating the image of a badass but lovable hunk. 

Peter meanwhile was the only one of our trio to end up in a body without any tattoos but he was nevertheless just as hot, with strong muscles and a slick haircut. He also benefit from gaining the largest package of the three of us, although neither Donny nor myself was exactly struggling in that department.

Unlike some other group of friends, the Great Change only brought us closer together as we took the step from best friends to lovers. The three of us have always worked so well together and now that extends to both in the gym and in the bedroom. What more could we possibly want in this post-Change world?

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“Thanks for meeting me here like this.”

“Yeah,” Chuck said as he slid into the booth, “Hey, I’m sorry things have been weird recently.”

Ross just smiled and studied Chuck’s face for a moment.

“You look good,” he said.

Chuck wasn’t sure how to take the compliment.

“I think I’m finally getting used to it,” he said, though it wasn’t very convincing to either of them.

“That’s good to hear,” Ross said, “How’s your son doing?”

“Oh,” Chuck sort of laughed, “He’s doing fine. I think he actually likes being me.”

They sat there silently stirring their coffee for a few moments, neither one of them really sure how to proceed.

Finally, Ross said in a lowered voice, “I really miss you, Chuck. I see your son at work in your body. It’s weird knowing that it’s not really you. He walks like you do, talks like you do, goes through all the motions just fine. But he’s not you.”

Chuck shifted uneasily in his seat. He, too, had noticed how his son had slowly started acting more and more like him, and how he had started to act more like his son with each day that had passed since the swap.

“I’m still here for you, you know,” Ross said.

“I know,” Chuck smiled, “And I really need someone who I can talk to about all of this.”

“Then talk to me about it.”

Chuck sipped his coffee, but it didn’t taste the same to him as it usually did. He was discovering that about a lot of things, now that he was tasting them with a different tongue.

“I’m worried, Ross,” he said into his cup, “I can’t find anything about how that Medallion works. All I’ve found online are these fantasy stories, like nobody knows that it’s real. What if we’re stuck like this?”

Ross wanted nothing more than to be able to hold his boyfriend and tell him everything would be all right. But he had to remind himself that it wasn’t his boyfriend sitting across from him. At least, not physically. Physically, it was his boyfriend’s son, wearing a look that was far too concerned, far too weathered for his handsome young face.

“We’ll get through this together,” Ross simply said, “OK? Things might be different now, but we’ll figure it out.”

“OK,” Chuck said. He eased up a little and looked around the restaurant for their waitress, “Man, I’m hungry. Like, all the time. ”

“You’re a growing young man again!” Ross chuckled, “You should enjoy it!”

Chuck blushed and smiled. Somehow, this was going to be all right.

“Dude, your ass is, like fully hanging out of your jeans right now,” I said, “You know that, right?”

“Uh huh,” he responded.

“And those tattoos.”

“Uh huh,” he bit his lip and looked down at his arm, which was etched with an intricate black and white design. He twisted it in the sunlight, admiring it as if it had always been there.

“And your body,” I said.

“It’s so sexy. Isn’t it?”

He pushed himself away from the railing of the balcony and threw his arms up over his head, putting his body on full display for me. He rolled his body up and down and gyrated his hips as if he was dancing to some sort of deep and sensual music that could only be heard by him. It struck me then that he’d make one hell of a gogo boy.

“It really is,” I confirmed, but the obvious boner in my pants had probably confirmed it for me. “Do you like being this way?”

“Mmm,” he moaned. Now, he had started running his hands along the solid muscles of the body I had given him. “I fucking love it.”

“Good,” I said. I was pleased that in addition to the physical changes, the mental changes seemed to have been turning out exactly as planned. “You’re going to make me a lot of money with that body, aren’t you?”

“I’ll do anything for a buck,” he winked. I loved the slutty, trashy voice he had chosen to start speaking with. “Or a fuck!”

He turned around and bent over with his ass in the air. It looked so fucking delicious in the jockstrap that I had him wearing. I licked my lips. I wanted to fuck him right then and there. 

“God damn,” I said.

I had turned my roommate into my own personal fuck toy, one that could be rented out by the hour, all with just a couple of magical pills. It was amazing.

“You’re too shy to do it out here on the balcony, huh?” he said. Ironic, since he himself had been quite the quiet, introverted sort himself before I’d given him the pills. “That’s OK, we can do it inside.”

He took me by the hand, totally confident, like he was a pro at this. I gladly followed him.

maybe something where two guys hang out and then one drinks something and anything he says becomes the truth?

“A truth serum?” John asked.

“Yeah!” Mark replied, “except it’s not what you think. Instead of making you tell the truth, it makes everything you say become the truth.”

John looked down at the small green bottle. “Sounds a little dangerous.”

“It doesn’t last that long, and you can always reverse whatever you say.” Mark saw the hesitation in his friend’s eyes. “C’mon man, all I need for you is to make me jacked. You can do it to yourself too! C’mon. Please?”

John looked down at the bottle then down at his body. He could do with some more muscle, and it wouldn’t hurt Mark either.

“Fine,” he said taking the bottle and unscrewing the cap, “but just to get us jacked.”

“Totally bro,” Mark said, and with that, John drank. The bottle was so small, the entire thing went down his throat. “Well,” he said, “feel any different?”

“Not really…” John said, “how does this work?”

“Anything you say becomes the truth. So… say something!”

John cleared his throat. “Right… well… we’re jacked. Both of us. Nice and muscular, but not too muscular.”

It was instantaneous. Both boys felt their bodies balloon out with muscle, causing their loose, dangling clothes to grow tight and fitting around their new, jacked bodies.

Mark didn’t waste any time. Within seconds, his shirt was off, and he was looking at himself in the mirror, eyes wide with shock.

“Fuuuuck dude! It worked! It really worked!!” John was barely listening. He was feeling up his own muscles through his t-shirt. They didn’t even feel real, but when he gave one pec a hearty squeeze, he knew that this wasn’t a dream. “Say something else!” John ran back in, practically jumping up and down.

“Like… what?”

“ANYTHING! Like… give me a huge dick.”

“A huge… what?”

“C’mon dude,” Mark was back to pleading, “my girlfriend would get a kick out of it.”

“Fine,” John said with a grin, “Mark has a a giant monster cock that’s so big, he can’t even fit it into his girlfriend’s pussy.”

Mark felt a huge tugging at the bottom of his boxers, and looked down to see his cock growing and growing, so much so that he was fighting to keep his shorts from just falling down. By the time the damn thing was done expanding, Mark guessed it was at least 11 inches long.

“Jesus man, what the fuck??” But John was cracking up. Mark looked back down at his dick and started to imagine what life would be like with a shlong that long. “You’re so fucking gay man,” Mark said.

“Right,” John scoffed, “I’M the gay one.”

He didn’t realize what he had done until after he’d done it. Apparently the serum didn’t take to sarcasm too well, because after saying the words “I’m the gay one,” John started to look at Mark differently. He started to lust after his muscular physique with an animal passion, caressing the curves of his biceps with his eyes, practically tasting the precum dripping out of the wet patch in Mark’s skin-tight boxer shorts, where his massive dick was twitching relentlessly.

“Dude… you okay?”

He didn’t know how long he was staring. Only that he wanted more than to just stare. He wanted Mark. He wanted him now.

“I think we’ve had our fun,” Mark said, starting to feel his nerves unwind, “let’s change back, okay? John? Can you change me back?”

“Okay,” John said with a smirk, “I’ll change you… but I won’t change you back.”

Mark’s face grew pale. “Wait, what?”

John cleared his throat, “Mark has a giant body to match his giant dick. He’s a fucking muscle beast with humongous arms and a giant pec shelf.”

Mark didn’t even have time to speak before his body shot out in all directions. What was previously handsome and toned was now obscene and large. His legs grew like tree trunks bursting through his underwear and sending his monster cock flying out into the cold air. He could barely see below his bulging pecs, and his arms had grown so large in the span of a few seconds, that they had rendered a lot of previous movement impossible.

“What the fuck man?!” Mark said. He gripped his dick. It felt normal sized in his otherwise abnormal hands. “What did you do to me?”

“I only made it so that you’d be able to have a regular dick again. Well… regular compared to the rest of your body.”

Mark’s head was rushing with thoughts. What was his girlfriend going to say about this? What was his family going to say? His job? How was he going to live his life when he couldn’t even fit through a proper doorway?

“Change me back,” he said firmly.

John smiled. “Of course I’ll change you back. But not after I’ve had some more fun.” Mark was about to lunge forward when John said: “Isn’t that right, mister Robbie Amell?”

Mark exhaled deeply. As he did, he felt his muscles subside, his body shrinking and leaning out into the chiseled physique of Robbie Amell. His hands reached for his face, and he felt the bones shift and rearrange themselves under his skin, which became smooth and soft to this touch.

“What is happening to me?” Mark said, his voice now noticeably higher. His bewildered blue eyes shot to John, who was rubbing his own dick through his skin-tight jeans. Just as soon as he saw this did a pair of tight gym shorts wrap themselves around Mark—or Robbie’s—defined hips. In the nylon pouch, he saw his dick return to normal size. Normal, that was, for a Hollywood celebrity.

Robbie smiled. “Yeah,” he said feeling his washboard abs, “I could get used to this.”

“Better not,” John said with a smile. He was becoming mad with power, and he was sure that his next transformation would be his hottest. “You’re not actually Robbie Amell. You’re a hairy Spanish bodybuilder.”

The second the word “hairy” crossed John’s lips, Mark’s chest started to grow itchy. He looked down to see his previously spotless chest dusted with little black hairs. What was more, his pecs were starting to come back in. With a vengeance.

“Que es esto?” Mark said. Though he could understand the words that came out of his mouth, he knew they were not in English. As a matter of fact, the more he thought about it, the less he knew of the English language at all. “Yo no enteindo…”

“It’s okay,” John said as he walked up to his friend, “you don’t have to say anything. Just look at yourself man!” He pointed to Mark’s bicep, which Mark instinctively flexed. The thing must have been 17 inches, at least. He followed it up to his broad, thickening shoulders, down the hairy cleavage of his new pecs, and across the landscape that was his muscle gut.

Mark—or Manuel—gave a deep groan. He was so enamored with his own body, he didn’t have the energy to even be mad at John. “Flex,” he heard his friend say, and Manuel placed his hands on his hips and flared his bodybuilder muscles out.

“Very good,” John said, running his hands over the rough mounds of stone.

“NOW can you change me back?” Manuel asked, only the words came out as “Ahora puedes cambiarme?”

John gave him a confused look. “Sorry? I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Ahora puedes cambiarme?!” Manuel repeated, but it was no use. He was running out of time. If John didn’t turn him back soon, he was going to be stuck as a hulking hispanic bodybuilder for the rest of his life.

He dove for the little green bottle, brining it to his lips in the hope that there might be just a drop of the truth serum left.

Nothing. He shook the bottle pathetically, but not a single drop came out. He heard John laughing behind him.

“Sorry Mark,” he said, “you should have taken the serum yourself. But you trusted me, and I suspect I’ve got time for one more transformation left before we run out of time…”

Manuel couldn’t understand the words John was saying. He understood only one single word: “briefs,” and made one more pass at the bottle.

But his hands were disappearing. As a matter of fact, his whole body seemed to be shrinking down, the mass of his muscles vanashing into thin air as he felt wind rush through the silky sheen of his skin.

He collapsed onto the floor, immobile, and felt the bottle topple down just a few inches away from him. He could see John walk over to his limp body. His friend towered over him, his toned and perfectly round muscles seemed colossal compared to whatever it was Mark had become.

He watched as John removed his clothes, revealing every inch of the body he had wanted in the first place. Not too big, not to muscular, but just sexy enough to get every guy in a two block radius hard as a rock.

Even Mark felt a flash of attraction as John pulled him up his legs and over his ass. But as he felt his best friend’s cock fill out what used to be his face, he knew that his life was going to be different from here on out.

John rubbed his dick through his brand new briefs. “Damn man,” he said to Mark, “you fit pretty well.” He knew he should feel bad, having just turned his best friend into a pair of underwear. But he suspected there was plenty more where that truth serum came from. He was sure he would turn him back… eventually…

The Potion Room

NOTE: This story was inspired by multiple different anonymous requests, so pay attention, as you might see yours in here ;)

Frank was dreading having to go to his grandma’s old house. Buried deep within the southern backwoods, the once tiny, charming mini-mansion had grown derelict over the years, and served only as a reminder of his grandmother’s lavish and secretive lifestyle. For years after her husband died, she had lived alone in the house, leading many of the local townspeople to suspect she’d turned to some form of witchcraft. Frank and his family never entertained this notion, of course, but truth be told, the never saw her often enough to know for sure what she did with her free time.

It had been just a few weeks since she “died.” Though a body was never found, the family could only assume something awful had happened. Perhaps she’d drowned herself in the same river as her late husband, or fell off a ledge on one of her long, early morning walks. Regardless, someone had to settle her estate, and Frank, being the eldest of her grandchildren, was saddled with the responsibility of driving down to that creepy old house to find the will.

It was almost dark as Frank pulled up, his headlights illuminating the dusty living room through a wide, antebellum-style window. The house, like grandma, was archaic yet oddly charming. He felt a tinge of both fear and comfort as he walked up the steps and opened the door. It was unlocked, leading him to suspect that burglars had already had their way with the property. As long as they didn’t take anything important, he thought as he began searching through the house.

Everything seemed eerily sanitized. The house was clean, save for a mountain of dirty pans in the kitchen. Had she been cooking something? Why would the door be unlocked? Why would the door to the basement be so open?

He’d never been in the basement as a child. It was one of the places he and his cousins were forbidden to enter, and he even felt the smallest inclination of guilt as he descended the stairs and turned on the light.

It appeared to be a wine cellar, only the wine bottles were smaller and were all clearly homemade. Grandma’s personal collection. On the table in the middle of the room was a note. Finally, Frank thought as he picked it up and read:

My dearest Frank,

To you I leave my most treasured collection. I implore you to read each label carefully before drinking, for if used right, this room could unlock your greatest potential. But if used incorrectly, it could unleash the monster in you.

Weird. Frank put down the note. He was disappointed. Out of everything she had, this was what she left him with? A dingy wine cellar?

Frustrated, Frank reached for one of the bottles. The label read: “Pinther” in her handwriting. Was it some special kind of brew? Frank didn’t even think. He popped the bottle off and began to drink, hoping to drown out the crushing disappointment that was growing heavier and heavier in his chest.

But it didn’t take like wine. Instead, it tasted like sugar water. It tingled and prickled his throat as it settled into his chest and began to expand. Oh shit, Frank thought, what did I just drink?

He didn’t have time to think because he was already falling backwards into a chair, his body seeming to suck itself in. His breaths became larger and deeper, and his body surged with an energy that he hadn’t felt since he ran track in high school.

His shirt was hanging loosely on his once bulky frame, and Frank tore it off to reveal a slim, runner’s body slowly beginning to chisel itself out of his fat.

“Holy shiiiiiiiooooooohhhhh fuck.” Frank shuttered as dopamine started to flood his system. He felt like he was on the brink of an orgasm, and his hands immediately started to feel up the hard new lines that decorated his body like a greek statue. He felt an immense attraction towards himself, and he stood up to admire his figure as the changes finished running their coarse.

“Fuck me man,” Frank said very literally as he admired his adonis body. He looked like a Calvin Kline model. Everything was perfectly proportioned, his skin perfectly toned and his muscles perfectly shaped. His jaw was chiseled and rough with stubble, and as he ran his hand over it and grinned, he could feel his dick growing ever more uncomfortable in his jeans.

He dropped them down to reveal a true beast of a cock, long and thin, with silvery pre-cum dripping from the tip. He had never been this turned on by his own physique, and the more and more he thought about touching his own body, the more his penis seemed to expand.

But then he remembered what he was doing here. What other potions might grandma have had stored in her collection? After all, it was Frank’s now. He could do what he wanted with it; he could BE anyone he wanted.

He reached for a random bottle on the shelf. Filled with horny excitement, he didn’t even read the label as he popped the cap and took a swig. This one tasted more sour, like tequila, and it burned his throat as it made its way down to his stomach, where it landed like a brick.

“Woah,” Frank remarked. Suddenly he felt very full, like he’d consumed a hefty meal. When he looked down he saw that his gut was starting to come back, but just as disappointment started to set in, he was hit with a tsunami of pleasure.

Frank stumbled around, his vision blurring. A warmth engulfed his body that was very different from the sharp coolness of the previous drink. This one made him feel numb, hot, and much larger. Literally, as he looked down at himself through the haze, he could see not just his gut was expanding, but EVERYTHING was expanding. His arms, his pecs, his thighs, his feet. Even his dick started to gain some chub to it.

“Lo que la cogida?” Frank remarked, than clasped his mouth. He had never spoken a word of Spanish, and yet as the warmth continued to spread, he struggled to remember anything in English. Who was the potion turning him into? He looked down one more time to see a light dusting of dark hair cover his thick, bulky muscles, and send him into a strange state of satisfaction.

When the changes started to subside, Frank began to admire his new body. It was thick as all hell, with bulging packages of muscle that made him want to cum right then and there. His skin had gained a slightly darker shade, and the stubble around his neck had grown into a thick beard. He was a handsome Spanish hunk alright, with a cock that seemed almost alien in its thickness and girth. Frank clasped it in his rough, hard hand, and started to stroke.

He threw his head back. “Ay dios mio…” Nothing compared to the feeling of letting his meaty dick slide through his calloused finders, wet with per-cum. He liked the feeling of letting his wet hands caress his thick muscles, flicking his nipples and toying with his big cushon-y ass.

He could have been perfectly content walking out of that room in his new form, settling down with some sexy girl or guy who’d worship his body every night. But no, Frank wanted more…

Latin Frank sauntered over to the shelf and reached down to the very body. His skin caressed itself as his bulking muscles rubbed each other, and he had to close his eyes to stop himself from shooting his load. Not yet, he thought, and reached for the very last bottle on the shelf.

It was black, and the label had been scratched off. He felt hesitant, that was, until he popped the cap and took a wiff. This potion smelled like night, like cool, crisp evening air, like dark mist forming at the base of forest trees. He didn’t care that the bottle was unwelcoming, or that he might have been overdoing it with grandma’s gift. He simply drank it just like every potion before.

He realized immediately that he’d made a mistake. His body flared with pain, REAL pain, as the liquid, fiery hot and bitter, set his throat ablaze. He dropped the bottle on the ground and growled in agony as his entire body began to seer like it was being doused with gasoline. He’d never felt pain like this, he’d never felt such an aching, burning desire to tear at his skin.

Frank looked down at his hands. He could see the veins popping, the muscles tensing, and the previously dusty hair around his forearms grow thick and bushy. But the one thing he noticed were his fingernails, which were growing long and dark. Like claws.

“Aggggghhhhh!” Frank screamed. His face was starting to shift too, his skin contracting to form an angrier, more canine face. He felt his teeth sharpen and expand, and as the pickle of hair began to erupt from his face, he let out a genuine howl.

Then suddenly, the pain stopped. For a split second, Frank was left in a strange state of fluctuation, halfway between man and wolf, before his hornieness returned. This time with a vengeance.

Frank panted, with each breath his fur-covered muscles expanding and expanding until his massive werewolf body took up the entirety of the basement. His cock grew to colossal size, cum now starting to flow steadily as he became enslaved in a state of unending orgasm. Frank was prisoner to the insanely erotic pleasure of his body. He was a monster, wiped of all humanity, replaced with raw sexuality.

“OOOOWWWWWWWW” Frank howled. Cum rocketed from his monster dick and practically flooded the room, soaking his dark fur and the enormous muscles that pulsed beneath. As he panted, collapsing to his knees, he thought of only one thing: fucking. He needed to hunt, he needed to pound, he needed to empty his fresh load, already filling up his orange-sized balls, into the ass of some unsuspecting guy.

Frank the horny werewolf clawed his way out of his grandma’s basement. It didn’t mean anything to him anymore. All that mattered was fucking, howling, and growing bigger and bigger. As he ran outside into the light of the now full moon, he let out a terrifying howl. He’d become the monster he was warned about. 300 pounds of pure, animalistic passion. And it was only just the beginning…

“Unghhh fuck…….that son of a bitch do this again!” My older brother swapped our bodies again, and to make it worse, he swapped our bodies right after he finished his leg day! God this is fucking hurt, look at all those jacked vein……..gosh I can’t even move……he knows I hate working out, and this burned feeling……fuck……I should be eating froyo at this moment Well, at least I can enjoy this musky smell of his and rub this body in the shower, playing a lil bit with his cock won’t be a problem right? But first, let’s found a way to move to the shower…….jeez, leg day is the worst