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Magician of the Nerds Part I: High School Matt glanced around the locker room to see if he was alone. Then he flicked open the letter with his thumb: “Great Morndas upon you P.A. Matthew O’Leary, Our best wishes to you and your family at the start of your new year. This birthday, marking the end of your 18th year, now classifies you as Proto-Apprentice. You may perform any spells on this day, or any other birthday for the next four years until your 22nd birthday, upon which time you will be promoted to full Apprentice. As you are an underage magician, we remind you that you are forbidden to perform magic outside your home or Spelling Designated Areas (for examples of SDAs, please go to our website at https://www.spellinglawandyou.mp/SDA) on any other day except these birthdays, and that Public Practice and Civilian Protection laws are perpetually in place and will be enforced to the Code’s full extent by the Magic Detection Agency (MDA). Any P.A. magician, should they not follow these guidelines, will undergo full Minor Council Review resulting in possible promotion postponement and/or mystic mentorship. Have a great year. The Council at Avalon, The Fire within suffers no Shadows” Matt grimaced and folded the letter back in his bag before stuffing the bag in his locker. Bureaucratic shits, he thought (Matt picked up this term from his Mom), it’s not like they’re even on the same continent anyway. There were separate magical governments across the Atlantic from each other, in Britain and America. Both worked directly with their respective nations’ non-magical governments, but also adhered directly to the wisdom of the Council at Avalon. It was bullshit, cause the only way to get to Avalon for years was through Britain. Things have changed a bit. They were all still bureaucratic shits though. He took out his black basketball shorts, netted and a little short, and slipped it on over each leg. Matt hadn’t ever heard of a Proto-Apprentice actually getting into trouble on their Spelling Day, anyway. Maybe a zap on the wrist, but nobody was shit enough to send a teenager to the Council for a minor infringement. Still, Matt wished he didn’t have to limit himself at all. Spelling Day was great and he’d waited seventeen years for it, but it didn’t excite him nearly as much as it did when he was younger. Matt reached back in his locker and took out his gym shirt, and by gym shirt it was the uniform of his favorite Tweeding team, the Hudson Valley Bulls (though most of his family still prescribed to the Charles River Serpents, much to Matt’s rivalry). Matt could make out his team’s uniform anywhere: the smooth, sturdy material, the bold maroon color with the golden horned lining along the sleeves and neck hole, the Hudson Valley Tweeding Club’s crest over one chest, the Nike’s check on the other, and the white lettering that spelt out “Hudson Valley Bulls” in a proud and elegant font. To Matt, it meant fierce magicians battling it out with spells and brute force in raging river waters. To his classmates, it just looked like a hipster rugby team. He put the jersey over his head and put an arm through each whole. It finally fit well over his average body type after spending years being two sizes too big. The material felt good hugging his body and reminded him of growing up, when all his friends were from other Spelling families. They’d play games or wander into the back woods and imagine themselves older and grown, graduated from Avalon’s School and fixing the world with their powers. Or playing professional Tweeding with crowds and crowds of cheering friends. That was a long time ago. It felt like it at least. Spelling families tended to cluster together, and although they remained in the same community, Matt had drifted away from the friend pack. They all waved to him in the halls and they hung out now and then, but they weren’t his friends. Not his best ones at least. Matt slammed his locker door after he finished changing into his gym clothes. A whiff of stink went up his nose. He raised an arm and sniffed. Yup, that’s B.O. He put his left hand out and faced his palm towards his torso. Then he closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. He rang the words clearly and loudly in his mind: Impartis Oduro. A gentle breeze then hit his skin and a pleasant but nondescript scent filled the space around him and clung to his jersey shirt. Much better, he thought. He grinned now that he finally tried his magic in public. That spell he’d learned from his old babysitter. Gabe was a Spelling boy from Pennsylvania who joined their neighborhood a decade ago. With no relatives in Connecticut he had needed support, so the O’Leary’s hired him immediately and employed him consistently for years. He’d taught Matt some Spells every now and then, whether Matt’s parents had wanted Gabe to or not. Odd jobs and tricks and domestic chores were Matt’s main Spelling repertoire. He’d always had an affinity for Morphology, though. At a young and astounding age, his parents would find him playing with mysteriously long-tailed squirrels or fat and flightless birds. They’d scold him but also sit in wonder, their little toddler performing low-level metamorphosis spells with natural skill. And without knowing the spells themselves. His parents had told him to keep quiet about his talents. They hadn’t wanted him to hurt anybody, or have anybody hurt him because of it. ‘Special gifts’ in the magic community weren’t always accepted easily. The Council tended to be… Conservative. The locker room door banged open. Wiley Carter walked in and shrugged his bag off at his locker. He gave a nod and wave to Matt, which Matt returned. They kept to themselves. Wiley was smart and quick and funny, but quiet. He played Runescape with Matt in Middle School, but now they only talked in class and shuffled home at the end of the day. His hair was dark and straight, cut short on the sides and the back, and little longer on top, pushed to the side. He had an average frame but skinny limbs, a product of his gamer life and fast teenage metabolism. He had deep brown eyes, if Matt remembered correctly. He changed into his gym clothes too, slipping on small white shorts and a blue sleeveless under-armor. His face was pleasant, handsome even. He was a good-looking guy, under the radar and underrated. The locker room door boomed open again, this time followed by voices. Blair Callum rounded the corner with his buddies, Sanjay Tran, and Jonah Walton. “Watch it bro,” Jonah shouldered into Wiley as the group passed. They chuckled and snickered. “Can’t wait for Saturday, dude,” Sanjay piped up. “I’m so fucking ready, it’s gonna be lit man,” Jonah slipped off his shirt and banged on his locker. It bounced open. “If no one lame shows up,” Blair grumbled. Sanjay and Jonah over-enthusiastically agreed. Sanjay slid on some gym shorts, “Man, no one knows about it except Marnie’s squad and the team, right?” “I don’t fucking know, party rumors spread,” Blair’s head glared towards Wiley. Matt caught himself staring and twitched his head back to his locker. Blair was a douchebag. And it was even more annoying cause he was a handsome and athletic douchebag. His dusty blonde hair looked perfectly and nauseatingly preppy matched with his jeans and fitting short-sleeve button down. He had a douchey smile and an overall sense of douchebaggity elitism. It was all so attractive, and Matt hated that. “Hey Carter, you want to get some girls drunk?” Matt looked back and saw Jonah, “You looking to get in on this, eh?” Wiley ignored him and fiddled with his bag. “Hey bro, I’m talking to you. If you’re so interested in our conversation, join it… BRO!” “No thanks.” Wiley didn’t even turn back. Jonah and Sanjay cackled. “Fucking queer,” Sanjay slapped Jonah’s ass. “I’m not gay. It doesn’t matter, but I’m not. It shouldn’t matter,” Wiley lifted an eyebrow in their direction. Blair stood up. Matt rolled his eyes. “You think so?” Blair glared at Wiley, who looked away, “Who the fuck are you to decide that?” Blare was menacingly direct. And close, now standing behind the nerd. Wiley didn’t want anything to do with him. Matt heard a crash as Blair thrust his large hand on to a locker, next to Wiley’s head. Wiley didn’t flinch. Matt’s heart was beating faster now. “You may want to rethink your liberal bullshit for a second before this locker becomes your face.” The pit in Matt’s stomach burned and twisted. He was angry, for Wiley and for himself. He wanted Blair to be pummeled; he wanted to contort him, to shrink and shatter him. He wanted to wipe all the smug douche cockery off his face on to the ground and twist his head to look the other way. But he couldn’t break the rules. Not on his first day. “You gonna fucking say something, queer sucker?” Wiley sighed, “The locker becoming my face doesn’t make sense and you have irrational anger problems.” Blair fumed and had death in his eyes. Matt’s thoughts raced, faster than ever before. The world must’ve stopped outside. The only thing Matt knew is that he couldn’t hurt Blair with magic. There wasn’t even a spell he knew that was violent like that. There wasn’t going to be any attacking. But there was Wiley. Matt fixed his eyes on the scrawny boy in blue. His body was weak, but his shoulders were back and proud facing the lockers and his mind was sharp, waiting and watching for Blair over his shoulder. His pale face had a determinedly sad expression. It was a scowl, in disappointment, muttering the same questions that ran through Matt’s head. Why do they get to do this to us? Why do we have to live with this? Matt’s mouth was dry. His eyelids shut and air flowed in and out of his lungs. His mind cleared and the tingling on his neck reminded him there wasn’t much more time to waste. Instead of tears, fire lit in his eyes. He drove his passion into the energy around him and focused it at Wiley. Almost like a prayer, he willed it to fill him with strength, and agility, and confidence, and a fiery vigor to fight. Matt didn’t know what he was doing, mind you. He didn’t know if it would miraculously help, or if it was idiotic for a Proto-Apprentice to try to do magic like this without using a spell. And maybe it wouldn’t help him. Maybe it’d hurt him. Wiley took in a sharp breath and shuddered. His fingers clutched tightly to his bag. His body fidgeted a few times, almost like it were crackling and overloading with energy. Blair took back his hand, his expression softening then contorting again in confusion. Then Wiley’s limbs creaked, somehow becoming longer. His legs stretched nob by nob, and his arms grew along with his torso. “What the-?” Blair stepped away. Wiley’s breath continued to flutter, but his throat grunted. Low and resonate. His calves looked to be engorged with blood. In fact his whole body looked… Tight. Matt’s own breathe shook, but he kept on staring at Wiley, staying quiet. Then Wiley’s calves pulsed once. Then twice. Then they twitched and suddenly starting growing in size. The tendons and striations all along his legs tightened and inflated. It sent grunts of pleasure from his throat. They grew and filled his shorts, pushing the fabric higher up his legs. His ass clenched and slowly bubbled up, each bump smooth and curved and hard. Matt was staring and directing all his energy towards Wiley, but his eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. A thick wave rippled up Wiley’s backside and packed lean brawn behind his arms and all the way around his shoulders blades. His shirt stretched around the mass. Bulk filled his shoulders and spread down his arms, leaving engorged and hard muscles in its wake. His biceps twitched with strength and flowed with energy down his forearms to his fists. His hands even looked engorged, grasping his bag tighter and tighter. Suddenly, his shoulders jerked back and his chest stretched in his tank, growing into two solid and perky slabs. The motion tore a rip in the bag, but his hands stayed clutching to it. Then his entire body convulsed before falling forward into the lockers. Matt, dizzy and impassioned, tripped over to Wiley who turned over and rested his back on the lockers. Matt felt his cock twitch with recognition of the view. Wiley still looked like Wiley. His face even looked around the same age. But he was a huge Wiley, with tight thin skin and bulgingly full muscles that pressed his pulsing veins harshly to the surface. His color was a healthy tint of red; Matt could sense blood was flowing in and out of every crevice of his body and mind. It flowed fast but not too much so, like an engine revving and humming with life. “What the fuck is this shit man?” “Dude, dude we gotta go.” Blair stood staring, confused and enraged. His buddies tried hitting him, to wake him from his disbelief, but they ran off. “You okay?” Matt blathered to Wiley, who was taking deep breaths, his chest heaving up and down. It stared Matt in the face, asserting its shape through the stretched under-armor tank. Wiley merely nodded. “What happened?” a voice said. Matt turned and saw Blair looking at him. Blair took a fast step forward and grabbed Matt’s shirt, lifting him to his feet, “What did you do??” Matt just stared at him, still catching his breath, terrified and awed at what just happened. He suddenly wished he gave himself some size too. “Let go of his shirt.” Matt sucked in a breath and thought he felt Blair shudder too. The voice entered his ear and resonated through his blood, thickly to his dick, which swelled larger in his gyms shorts. Blair noticed. “What is- ? I-. I didn’t know there were two of you here, two fucking queers. Yeah, a queer lover and his perverted scamp,” Blair spat the words and shook Matt in frustration and disgust. A blurry fist whistled past Matt’s ear and struck Blair squarely on the side of the face. Blair let out a wheezing noise and fell straight to the floor. He started to pull Matt down with him, but Matt felt hands grab both his shoulders and hold him in place. Matt looked down at Blair. He was knocked-out cold. “Fuck.” The voice rumbled in Matt’s loins again and vibrated in his hardening nipples. He raised an eyebrow and grinned, enjoying the sensation. “Matt?” He turned to face Wiley, and suddenly his dick was a steel rod. Wiley was standing directly in front of Matt. Where once Matt was a half head taller than Wiley, they now stood practically eye-to-eye. Wiley seemed to have the slight edge, and his body was packed with hard bulges of muscles and thick tendons. All of them were flexing. His sleeveless tank clung to his chest and his rocky stomach, which moved in and out with slow, measured breaths. He stood there with clenched fists poised to fight and wide eyes. Crap, Matt’s mouth dropped open, I turned him into a god! Not a nerd, but Wiley: the God! Wiley: the Masterpiece!! Matt knew he’d done impressive Morphology in the past, but never on a human. Never something like this. Matt smiled and put his hands up in reassurance, “Everything’s okay.” Wiley didn’t budge, except for turning his fist a little more towards Matt’s direction. There wasn’t much space between them. He clenched his jaw and it was handsome and terrifying. “He was right, what did you do?” Wiley’s eyes glared at him now, but Matt barely registered it. He was too distracted by the sound of his voice. It was Wiley’s, but it rang deeper and commanding. It was as if his vocal chords were slowly, roughly rubbing together and resonating the sound of manhood and sex through the air. It rang out again, concerned: “Is he okay?” Matt shook from his trance. Wiley was glancing nervously around Matt’s shoulder. Matt turned to look and saw Blair lying still on the ground like stone, “I don’t know. You punched him,” he turned back, shrugging. “Do you think you broke anything?” “No. Maybe? I haven’t punched someone before!” “Well, you did a pretty good job…” “How are you so calm about this, dude?” Wiley yelped. Matt heard something desperate amongst the dick-throbbing sounds of his voice. Wiley’s head ticked to the side and back, and individual muscles twitched and bulged. “I’m freaking out here man,” he twitched again and his eyes closed, “I can feel... Fucking everything. I can feel every inch, every microscopic spot on my skin pulled tight over everything.” He grunted, still twitching but somehow more intentionally, stretching and flexing. His neck craned to the side and his traps bulged. Matt grunted with him. He couldn’t stop himself, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. Wiley wriggled around in his body. His brow was furrowed still very seriously, but now with a touch of curiosity. “And underneath,” he tensed everything. Things rippled. “I can feel all the blood flowing through,” he breathed in sharply, “flowing and filling up…” He bent his arms and brought his fists up to his shoulders, scrunching his biceps into baseballs. He lowered his arms, grunting, and did it again. And again. He was pumping his arms, but Matt thought he saw all of his muscles tense and squeeze, not just his biceps. Like his muscles were taking a breath each time he pumped his arms. “I can feel every string and cell busting at the seems. I feel… Full.” “You look it.” Wiley’s eyes shot open and looked right at Matt. He stopped moving, but remained flexed and tensed. Matt sighed, “Listen, Blair was being a douche. He was gonna beat on you, and then he was gonna beat on me, so… We beat on him together.” Wiley lowered his arms, relaxing, “We?” Matt gave a shaky nod and a knowing look and awkwardly gestured towards all of the muscles. Wiley hesitated, glancing down at his fists and pumped arms and stretched clothing. His shorts hugged his legs and did nothing but accentuate the throbbing bulge that came to life. He squirmed awkwardly, “So…” “So, I did all of that to you. The arms, the chest, the height, the dick apparently, the voice– “ “The punch?” “No, my friend. That was you. Let’s say I gave you the tools. You hammered in the nails, hard! Just in time to save me, too!” Wiley narrowed his eyes, making a connection, “You’re a Mystic. Aren’t you?” Matt searched for words. All that came was, “Well… Err, yeah.” “But I’ve known you since like fourth grade!” “Yeah, well, we keep to ourselves.” Wiley scrunched his eyebrows, remembering something, “We played video games together.” “Yeah, so?” “Do Mystics play video games?” Matt chuckled, “We’re not Amish, dude. We just cast spells. We don’t forego technology and other earthly desires. I don’t at least.” Wiley smiled, and it punched Matt in the heart. It faded as he looked back down at himself. He was finally relaxed, but everything still bulged. Not like a roided out body-builder, but like a meaty high-school wrestler whose skin was suctioned on and muscles were bulging to their largest capacity. Like he could dominate as a junior Olympian, or maybe as a new recruit in the real thing. He was in perfect Wiley physical condition. He placed his palms on his stomach and felt its bumps under his shirt. He slid his palms up his body and wrapped his paws around his meaty, ballooned pecs. “I’ve never seen someone spell something like this before.” Neither have I. “I don’t have much experience on humans. Though, you came out pretty damn well.” Wiley looked up at Matt and smiled again, “Well, what’d you actually do to me?” Good question. “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. I didn’t spell anything specific, just pushed everything I had at you. I’m pretty naturally gifted in Morphology, so…” Wiley’s hands wandered to his butt and he squeezed it, “It all feels so real.” “It is.” “It actually feels like I’ve worked these to death for years,” he cupped a bicep with his hand as he flexed it, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” And then he was moaning, and feeling all the bumps and valleys that stretched out of his skin. His thumbs felt his nipples and his body shuddered at the touch. His fingers traced the spaces between his abs right down to the thick bulge in his shorts. He hesitated and then grabbed the whole thing with one large hand. He squeezed and lifted his chin up as he growled. “Fuck, “ he put his other hand behind his head and just stood there, lathering himself in the sensation of his own touch. Matt had never been more turned on in his life. He’d only just realized he was gay recently. He hadn’t had time to have any experience or even figure out what he liked. Although in this moment, he could tell he liked Wiley. Especially with how close he was; the way everything looked crafted to perfection, his skin smooth over hard bulges of strength, his open mouth releasing grunts that tingled Matt’s neck hairs and nipples, his handsome face and prominent jawline. He exuded confidence. He exuded manliness. It was as if his entire body was erect and juiced in swimming masculine energy. Like he could do anything. And feel anything. Matt felt a groan leave his own throat as his hand sheepishly fingered at his dick through his pants. Wiley opened his eyes and grinned at him. “This is a strange side effect.” Matt froze. “Don’t stop... I like that you like it,” Wiley squeezed his bulge again. He bit his lower lip and squinted his eyes that stared at Matt. Matt hesitated, “You said you weren’t gay?” “I don’t give a fuck about that. Right now, I like that you like it. You’re turned on by what you made. A mad scientist gazing on his Frankenstein, and you even come complete with the messy hair and spectacles. Not to mention the cute, well-meaning expression on your face. It’s sexy.” Wiley’s eyes gazed intensely into Matt’s. Matt was stunned, hand still on his dick. He readjusted his glasses reflexively and stammered through his thoughts. “You’re too pretty to be Frankenstein,” he said quietly. Wiley’s laugh rumbled soft and deep. “You might as well admit it, you’ve made a monster,” he whispered back, his face very close to Matt’s. Matt shook his head and grinned slyly. “I’ve made such a fucking man.” Their faces were inches away. They were both taking soft and shallow breaths, staring each other down with evident hunger. “Touch it,” Wiley breathed. Matt glanced down, “Touch what?” “Any of it.” The words whispered into his ear. His dick dinged to life again and he felt compelled to take Wiley up on the offer. Wiley closed his eyes, brows up expectantly. Matt didn’t know where to begin. He wanted to touch all of it. Was there a weird place to touch him? There couldn’t be. But, did he say what he said but meant something else? Was Matt supposed to default to something? Was Matt supposed to suck his dick? Wiley peeked an eye open, “There a problem?” Matt sighed and gave a smile like a shrug, “Yes, I think too much.” Wiley smirked. He snatched one of Matt’s hands and placed it on a pec. It was plump and heavy, even through the stretched material. Matt groaned. He squeezed it and felt the rock underneath and traced his thumb down to Wiley’s hard nipple. Wiley made a shuddery, grumbly noise. “Ooh, my god.” Matt smiled, “Feels good?” “You have no idea,” Wiley grinned. Matt put his other hand on the other pec and gave another good squeeze. He was enthralled by them: their shape, their size, and their weight, how he could sense the power and strength underneath. Matt wondered what it must feel like to feel that power, to sense the weight of your body and its capability. “Damn,” Matt whispered. A strange sort of lust was taking over him. He felt it everywhere, filling his heart and his stomach, and his head and his dick, a feeling of raw tension. He was deeply attracted to Wiley, immensely attracted. He wanted to feel Wiley’s entire body under his hands and smash his lips against his own and also figure out something to do with his dick, cause he had an impulse to move his hips towards Wiley’s and rub their clearly equally throbbing erections together. But there was another feeling. It made him hesitate and his body tense. He stopped squeezing Wiley’s chest and looked up at his face. His eyes were still closed on his handsome face, lost in a world of pleasure. Matt spread his fingers out and slowly ran his hands over Wiley’s chest to his shoulders and down his arms. Matt’s fingers latched onto Wiley’s triceps, and his thumbs could barely fit around his biceps. Matt tightened his grip and growled. He lifted Wiley’s shirt and moved his hands over Wiley’s abs with an unbreakable focus. He traced his fingers along the hard bumps, admiring how they crushed together to make an impenetrable wall over his stomach. His hands wandered around Wiley’s hips and found the two smooth bumps of his ass. Matt squeezed his fingers around the meat and both he and Wiley moaned. With some awkward effort, Matt shimmied his hips closer to Wiley’s. Despite his blatant urge to be forceful, he was still tentative and hesitant. He was confused by his thoughts. Standing there clutching Wiley’s muscled ass, Matt couldn’t figure out if he liked it cause it was there and it was Wiley’s, or if it was cause he wanted it for himself. He realized the deep lust he felt was getting infected with a bubbling envy. The mixture of hormones and emotions intoxicated his brain, and he mindlessly thrust his groin at Wiley’s groin and rubbed and squeezed and thrust and moaned. Wiley growled right along with him, and put his own hands around Matt’s average but eager ass, grasping on to the material of his basketball shorts. Both of their eyes opened and focused on each other. They stood, their hips locked together, swaying and rubbing to a gentle rhythm. “Wow,” Wiley growled. He put his forehead on Matt’s, “What a sexy mad scientist you are.” “I think this magic’s more of an art than a science,” Matt smiled, “At this point, it’s definitely not precise enough.” “Fine, crazy artist it is,” Wiley laughed. Matt felt the rumble come from Wiley’s chest and cascade down his torso. It sizzled at their groins and fireworks blasted in Matt’s mind. “And you’re a masterpiece,” Matt whispered, massaging his fingers on Wiley’s ass. Their dicks pressed together like hot metal iron rods. Matt thought about the magic that created this moment. It wasn’t anything he learned or calculated. It was fueled by his emotion and passion and steered by his will and, apparently, powerful enough to transform Wiley into the meathead that was currently doing very well in a game of swordfight between Matt’s and his dicks. He was thick and solid and powerful, and so fucking attractive. Matt wanted all of him. He wanted him there, attached to him, pressing their bodies into one, on top of him, around him, sharing every inch of each other. He wanted to feel Wiley and to feel what Wiley felt. And he wanted to feel thick and solid and powerful, too. He wanted to know what his body was capable of, and what he was capable of. Matt and Wiley moaned. Then, Matt gasped. He was breathing in steady, shallow breathes and electricity sparkled in his groin. One spark sputtered down to his toes and another went up and into his brain, both of them zapping pleasure around everywhere. It flashed images in his mind of himself with Wiley, both looking like men: scruff on their face, youth in their eyes, strength permeating their very veins. But no, they weren’t just images in his mind; That man existed. Matt could feel he was real. He could feel the power within his bones, and could feel as it flooded the spaces throughout his body, instantly and completely understanding what Wiley meant by his body feeling full. The energy escaped through his every pore and flashed brilliantly around him, his body suddenly heavy, steaming with sweat and magic, his clothes pulled tight and damp around his thighs, and his ass, and his chest, and his arms, and his shoulders, and behind his shoulder, and below that on his back, and everywhere that wasn’t his, apparently flat and hard, stomach. Wiley groaned, and Matt opened his eyes. At first it looked like Wiley was flexing all of his body extremely hard, but Matt realized his arms were too thick, his chest was too giant, and his shoulders were too wide for him to be the same size as before. Matt grew him… again. Matt heard another groan behind him. He spun his head around to see Blair grumbling on the ground still asleep. He didn’t seem injured at all, but there was no mistaking the body on the ground now was larger than it was before, and it wasn’t too small to begin with. All Matt could see was a tremendous butt, a set of thick and round thighs, two slabs of a backside, and full and meaty triceps. On second thought, he decided he could see a good deal. “What’s happened?” Matt’s face flushed. The tone of his voice rang deeper and echoed in Matt’s body even longer than before. He turned his head back and saw Wiley looking confused and earnest and full of lust. He was fucking handsome as ever, peering into Matt’s eyes. Even his jaw muscle looked like it had gained size, giving a manly square look to match the stubble that dusted his face. Matt smiled and shrugged heavy shoulders. He adjusted his glasses and felt his own stubble rub against his hand. “I’ve done it again,” he put simply. Matt felt his own voice rumble from his chest. He was turned on to feel its power vibrate through his body’s bulk. He felt his hard nipples rub against the material of the Tweeding jersey and he rolled his eyes at the sensation. It felt amazing to be so big, to feel all his bulk bulging out of his old jersey. He was practically bursting through it. His pecs sprang hard and round from his chest, and they felt full and alive. His sleeves fought hard against his arms, the bulging bits of muscle all contending for a spot to be seen. His shoulders were broad and Matt stood there like they were always supposed to be like that. The maroon of the Hudson Valley Bulls was everywhere, conformed to the shape of his body. Matt’s basketball shorts were practically disappearing under the onslaught of magical muscle growth. Matt had always possessed strong, decent sized legs, so after the blast they inflated into bulging masses of brawn. His shorts stretched and scrunched around his wide thighs and achingly bulbous ass. Matt tried to feel the weight of his entire body and breathed in the sensation. Then he flexed everything and felt energy and blood rush into it all. It felt like he had been upgraded. Or that he evolved into a more powerful form. Everything was him but different, larger and capable of more. Wiley was having trouble speaking, looking, and feeling at the same time, “You did it again, but this is different. This is you, too… You’re… You’ve transformed into your superhero persona!” The two of them laughed together, sounding like rumbles of happiness. “I think you better take a look at yourself too, Superman. You’ve got a little more size going on there,” Matt bit his lip, looking at all of Wiley reluctantly. Wiley followed Matt’s gaze and his mouth dropped open, “Sorry if you didn’t want it, I told you this magic was erratic, and I didn’t even know I was casting anything at the time…” Wiley sputtered as he took in his size, “You- You didn’t say anything about it b-being erratic. M-maybe imprecise, but not erratic, not like this! I’m fucking huge, dude!” He indeed was fucking huge. The magic that transformed Matt must’ve blasted out like a bomb, with Wiley in direct line of fire, and Blair not too far from it, and now they were all huge. From what he could see, it didn’t seem like any of Matt’s limbs changed length after the blast, though. So it wasn’t surprising to see that Wiley’s arms and legs hadn’t extended like they had the first time. Instead, each of Wiley’s muscles had simply inflated larger, bulkier, and brawnier. They had already been the size of a high school All-star’s, but now they looked like the broad and gritty muscles of a Tweeding pro-athlete, or even more like an ancient warrior from Merlin’s time. They looked experienced and they oozed raw strength. Everything rippled and bunched together. Each cable of amplified beef was grown by magic, and hummed with pure strength and hungered for action. Wiley was too distracted for action though. He tried cupping his mammoth pecs, but his paws weren’t big enough. Instead he ran them all along his body, loving the way his under armor tank clung to him like a second skin. He could even trace his abs bulging through the material. “I’m not sure I can face my parents like this, but… Damn, dude. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I like it at least a little,” Wiley grinned and winked at Matt before striking a double biceps pose. It was all so sudden. His arms bunched up into softballs, his forearms thick and throbbing, his chest raised proudly in the air, and newly widened lats sprang up under his arms. Matt caught himself drooling. “It’s unreal,” Wiley relaxed and reflexed multiple times, “It’s fucking unbelievable.” Matt felt a growl escape from his chest. Wiley turned his head to him, eyes piercing. He reciprocated a snarl and showed some canine teeth, his arms still raised and bulging at his sides. Matt nudged his face into Wiley’s neck and Wiley rubbed his stubble on to Matt’s cheek. Then Wiley’s thick arms wrapped around Matt’s body. His hands clutched the new ripples of beef that bulged from Matt’s back. Matt groaned and pushed the muscled nerd into the lockers. His glasses fell to the floor and he kicked them roughly away to avoid stepping on them. Matt felt an impulse take over, an animal within him awaken. He could tell magic was bubbling in him again; the feeling seemed so obviously distinct now. Matt’s shorts were so scrunched up that he wrapped his practically bare legs around the outside of Wiley’s thick trunks. He planted his feet firmly to the ground, clenching his ass for support. Their hips came together like magnets, like their dicks really were metal and had to rub against each other by the order of the laws of physics themselves. Matt didn’t know how it all worked; He hadn’t taken Mystiphysics classes yet. The cobble stone roads on their stomachs rubbed against each other and as they both moaned, Matt raised his hand behind Wiley’s head and smashed their lips together. Wiley urgently tightened his embrace and Matt grumbled like a dog. Suddenly, a monstrous groan echoed through the locker room. Matt and Wiley stopped mid-snog. Their breathing was heavy and their bodies stuck together. Movement from the corner of both their eyes caught their attentions. They sprang apart and faced the figure on the ground with a fighting stance. Their mouths dropped open immediately. Blair was on his hands and knees, attempting to get up, and his ass was facing directly at the two nerds. An enormous and glorious ass. Blair hadn’t changed into any gym clothes yet, so his hot-air ballooned glutes fought with all their might to be seen in his denim jeans. His thighs too were bulging tightly, his entire legs thick with exploded muscle. Matt sighed, breathing out more contradicting emotions than he could count, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Blair groaned again, stirring from a moment’s rest. He shuffled one foot underneath his heavy body. Then another. Now his butt was really sticking in the air. He let out a grumbling and hissing noise as he pushed himself off the ground and straightened his back. He clearly was dizzy from the punch and from getting knocked out, but he also looked… Uncomfortable. His collared shirt wrapped around bulges of contorted muscle. His arms stretched his short sleeves to an aching extent; Matt could tell they hung on by a thread. It was Blair’s slanted shoulders and shifting backside that kept Matt’s attention, though. Blair grumbled, annoyed like a sleeping bear. Suddenly there was a Pop! Matt flinched but saw Blair’s collar flick and a shiny button fling to the side. It crashed into a locker and sent an echo through the room. Blair froze, looking down at his chest. Like he’d waken up from a nightmare and was smashed in the face by a fucking amazing surprise. A grumble came soft and low from Blair. In a split-second crescendo it became a roar as he forced his shoulders back, sticking them out wide and proud. A pair of buttons smacked the lockers in a clanging duet. His arms ripped through the threads of his sleeves, and his legs followed with long tears in his jeans by his thighs. Blair let out a pleased grunt, like he was breathing properly for the first time. Matt didn’t blame him for his discomfort. He made a mental note that it was lucky he was wearing decently stretchable clothing. Matt wondered how to best approach this situation, what with the high-school hulk being prone to anger and all. “G’morning douchewad!” Matt’s eyes went wide for a moment and he glanced nervously at Wiley before turning to watch the brute react. “What are you doing?!” Matt whispered harshly. “I’m fucking with him.” “He’s huge! Why do you want to fuck with him?” Wiley smirked, “Cause he’s huge and I wanna fuck with him…” In a daze, Blair turned his hulking mass around. Matt allowed himself to close his eyes and breath. His fear dissipated immediately. “You both want to explain this?” Matt’s eyes bolted open and feasted on the speaker. His tongue salivated. Indeed, Blair was the Blonde Brute. He was tall before and he was tall now. His muscles looked like bulges of marble, inflated from the inside like blown glass would be. His shoulders made no contest of the tattered sleeves of his shirt and were as bold and mighty as the biceps that bulged from his arms. His chest rippled in the shadows of his torn open shirt. The boulders that were now his abdominal muscles made occasional appearance over his highest surviving button. His size was astounding. His bright colored eyes pierced from the face of Prince Charming, dimple and all. Most lovely was the night stick Blair was apparently keeping tucked in his jeans. It was quite thick, and long. Matt narrowed his eyes. And it was clearly hard and erect. “You got pulled into some magic. You’re welcome,” Wiley played confidently. Matt elbowed him. Blair closed his own eyes and tensed his body. Everything bulged. “This is some fucked with magic,” his smooth voice was accusing and yet… “I exploded,” Matt felt Blair’s gaze on him, “I- I mean, my magic exploded. Everywhere. I don’t really know what happened.” “Well you better figure it out and undo it! People are gonna think I juiced up. There’s no way this is allowed in a Division I school.” “Oh, don’t worry, it’s not like it’s a chemical. It’s probably undetectable!” Wiley slipped in. “Ere…” Matt grumbled. “Also, don’t even try to lie about liking it. I see that bulge in your pants…” Matt was stunned. Wiley was being so forward. Matt watched Blair’s face redden. “It’s okay, our dicks have been going for a while now too,” Matt offered, unsure if Wiley upset him. Another rumble sounded low in Blair. He took deep breaths through his nose. His hands suddenly grabbed the open sides of his shirt and mercilessly tore through the rest of the buttons and ripped the threads cleanly from his bulging body. His fingers found the tears in his jeans and nudged inside for a proper grip. Then, denim was flying everywhere and Blair’s legs were released from their restraints. He looked hand-crafted by an artisan sculpture. He looked like a classic representation of Zeus. Only younger. In his true prime. Blair groaned and ripped the last of the clothes from his body. His underwear flew and hit Wiley in the face. Matt chuckled at him, however briefly, before the sausage log of meat flopped out hard before them all. Blair merely roared and thick streams of cum sprang from his cock. The vibration sent both Wiley and Matt into uncontrollable orgasmic bliss. Their crotches filled with hot cream as the first jet of Blair’s shot hit the lockers with a bang. The second sailed through the air and hit Matt straight in the eye. “Agh! Wh-? Mm…” Matt tasted the cum and he felt it reinvigorate him. Blood rushed through his cock and his muscles and sent his body practically convulsing into further orgasm. And then it was over. The three of them there, and all that could be heard was the sound of their desperate gasps of relief. Matt stood hunched over, his hands on his knees. His mind was scrambled and he just focused on counting his breathing. In: One… Two… Three… Four… Out: One… Two- The locker room door slammed open and Matt could feel the shuffling of many heavy steps. “AlRIGHT boys. This ain’t funny. First you were late to class, and now I don’t know what pranks you’re trying to pull-.” Matt straightened up just in time to watch Mr. Royce turn the corner with the entirety of their male gym class in tow. It took Matt a moment before he realized: They were all bigger. Fuck. Mr. Royce crossed thick arms over his plump chest and tried not to look incapacitated when he noticed Blair immediately. Sanjay and Jonah stood behind Mr. Royce. Their muscles were pumped like they just finished a week-long work out. They clearly hadn’t grown as much as they would’ve had they been closer to the epicenter of the explosion, but they were pressing through their shirts impressively. The rest of the class stood behind them. And it was a wall of beef. No t-shirt was left un-stretched, no jaw left un-chiseled. Chandler Rocklin was thick and menacing in his polo shirt. Jimmy Nader busted his bicep through his long sleeve. Chase Newton was fucking sexy as fuck now that he had some meat on his bones. Matt stared in disbelief. What kind of fucking magician am I? “Well? Can any of you speak? Callum, put some clothes on...” Mr. Royce was struggling to maintain composure, but sounded authoritative enough. Wiley glanced down at the gym teacher’s crotch and smirked. “You sure you want him to do that?”