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  1. hulk457

    furry moonshine

    there was a time and place where all the mythical creatures set war at our world. the question is " what kind of creature will save the day,life,and independense". the answer is " at the fullmoon the creature that we fear is actualy helping us, the one that we called half man half wolf". werewolf's are known as human eater's,now they have change. they actually help us like they were human again. there leader is the most generous wolf that we ever seen his name is lucario de fario. he was strong, kind, and sometimes the lady's think that he is hot by saying " i think he is a handsome for a werewolf" then he talk to the lady's and said " thank you for your honesty , surely i hope all of you will have a beutiful future". well for me thank's for one of the werewolf that accidently bite my arm because he think's i was the a living ghost. so i live my live as a werewolf now, because of that i change my name to mitropolos. i guess it's cool because it has the name of a zodiac called mitropholos. then when lucario see me building up my body he said " when i am no longer here you must take my place as the leader". after exercising i been thinking about his ofer i was like " why did he tell me this anyway?" then i went to bed and sleep. when i was sleeping somebody just pat my me in the head and said " you are so cute when you sleeping". then i instanly wake up to see who is the one did the pading and talking when i was a sleep , it was a litte girl smilling at me . when i look into the mirror i see my self as a werewolf but still me. then i ask her " what is your name little girl?", she said "my name is lucy". after she tell me her name i answered back " my name is mitropolos, what are you doing here little lucy" she said " i am trying to find some food , but when i saw you i want to pat your head because you look like a little pup sleeping" that actualy make me laugh, i say to this little homeless girl " you want to stay at my place to night?" the she said " i would love to !" chapter 2 love & war in the daylight, at my place lucy is still sleeping in my single cozy bed " so at the end i have to sleep at the sofa". but thats okey because i acctualy to love lucy as a kid of my own, infact we almost like all of the same stuff espesialy choclate
  2. Hey There! I thought I'd put together a little special piece for halloween featuring Eero and some of my other OC's. The full version is here for you to enjoy! If you'd like to find out more on the series hop on over to my Patreon page. Pretty soon I'll be launching a new reward tier on my page with even more content! I only need 10 more supporters to reach my goal and I'll launch the new Tier. Please consider supporting if like the story and want to enjoy more! Thanks! patreon.com/rekoobaz Enjoy! Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (Teaser) Chapter 4 (Teaser) Chapter 5 (Teaser) Chapter 6 (Teaser) The Intergalactic Adventures of Eero Halloween Special 2017 (A Frankenstein/Jekyll & Hyde Inspired Mashup) patreon.com/rekoobaz Just for context for people who might not be familiar with my OC's Eero Ericson Solis: 21yo Bodybuilder, main character. Dr. Baledin "Bale": Veneficus: 39yo Scientist Argento "Argie": Robotic Companion Location: Port Secretum, Kapteyn C, Kapteyn's Star, 1st Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy Year: 2135 As Eero slept, his mind racing from the days events. His dreamswere vivid and captivating . . . ————————————————————————————————- # ——————————————————————————————————— Location: Geneva, K 186-f, Kepler 186 system, 1st quadrant, milky way galaxy "Hey, tiny!" the crowd taunted, "You'd be more help as a coat rack, you're so thin and lanky!” Eero ran off, deeply embarrassed, their laughs burning his ears. He was only trying to help, but it was true, compared to the burly men in the colony he wasn't cut out for manual labour. The latest supply drop had just arrived and the colonists needed as much help as they could get to distribute the heavy cases of food and other basic supplies. The colony of Geneva had long become isolated from the rest of mankind, the planet cursed by an unforgiving sun constantly throwing off dangerous solar flares making it impossible for any manned spacecraft to approach the system. So every few months a supply drone would attempt to make a pass by the planet, sometimes making it successfully, sometimes not. Eero had lived there his entire life with his family, never knowing the wonders of the world beyond their planet. His parents, like most others had moved there to work for a huge corporation, eager to mine the planet for its vast resources. But soon the sun grew hostile, and now they were trapped, doomed to live a primitive life like they were in the 21st century. ”Don't listen to them bud," Eero's father tried to comfort his son once back home "You're not weak.” "Thanks," Eero mumbled, knowing full well what they said was true. While average in height at 5ft 11in, Eero was as thin a a rail. He only wished he could be strong like the rest of the male colonists, hell even many of the female colonists were stronger than him. Probably the reason why he'd never had a girlfriend. Probably. Eero had shared his insecurities with his only friend Fritz. He was strong too, but dumb as a post, and was thankful for Eero's attention and friendship. Eero too appreciated Fritz' friendship, he actually thought the big oaf was kinda hot, but he repressed those feelings deeply. Fritz was sad to see his friend so upset by his physical shortcomings. "Say you know, maybe you could gone see that scientist fella," Fritz suggested. "I gone heard he can do some crazy sciency things, maybe he can help you?” Eero was skeptical, the scientist Fritz spoke of was a recluse, rarely seen by the rest of the colonists. His living pod separated from the rest of the colony atop a hill. Heavens knew what he did up there. But it was worth a try. ————————————————————————————————- # ——————————————————————————————————— One evening, under the cover of darkness, Eero trudged up the side of the hill, eager to see if the scientist could help. The weather was fierce that night, torrential rain and galeforce wind, the planets weather could be unforgiving but it meant no one else would be out and no one would see him. Eero reached the home of the scientist, perched atop the hill, a gargantuan complex of dark metal looming over the colony. What did the scientist need with all that space? Eero found the entrance and what appeared to be a buzzer. He rang it and waited anxiously. Soon a deep voice emerged from a speaker. "Who is it?" The voice crackled from the speaker. "Umm, uh, my name is Eero Solis, Sir," Eero's voice shaky. "I was hoping you'd be able to help me?” “Hmmm, With what?” "Umm, with something only you can help me with?” Silence Eventually Eero heard the sounds of bolts unlatching and the large metal door swung open slowly by itself. "Enter" the deep voice crackled again. ————————————————————————————————- # ——————————————————————————————————— Eero cautiously entered. The passageway he entered was dim but he could see light at the end of the passage, and a figure. Eero shuffled into the room at the end of the passage. Standing in the center was a man who he assumed was the scientist although it was hard to tell, his features hidden in shadows, the light shining on him from above hitting the top of his head and shoulders but leaving the rest of him, for now, a mystery. "Welcome young Eero!" the scientist rumbled, holding out his arms. "Welcome to my lair!” Eero was seriously creeped out. "My name is Dr Baledin Veneficus!” The scientist shifted slightly and his facial features were revealed. He looked younger than Eero was expecting, certainly not the crazy old scientist he imagined. "H-Hello Doctor," Eero responded, still creeped. "Tell me young Eero, what is it that you seek from me?” Eero swallowed, he was forced to reveal one of his deepest desires to this stranger. "I-I want to be strong, like the rest of the men in the colony. I want to be able to pull my own weight, their weight, everyones weight. I want to be the strongest!” The scientist grinned wickedly at Eero's proclamation. "Such a simple request? Oh well," the scientist sighed with mock disappointment. "You're in luck. Come.” The scientist grabbed Eero by the hand and dragged him through the depths of his lair to his inner sanctum. "Welcome to my laboratory! Hahaha!" he let out the deep laugh. Eero took in the huge room. The space was filled with large, strange electronic devices looming over him, a maze of pipes and tubes and wires sprouting out of every wall and shooting off in every direction. Various sounds, buzzing from the electronics, bubbling from the various beakers and test tubes covering the metal benches in the center of the room. Smells, some pleasant, some pungent. Eero could tell he was looking into a mind that never stopped. And hopefully a mind that could see to his needs. Doctor Veneficus continued, pacing around the lab, "For you see young Eero, I have been working on a serum that will do just what you desire! Our planet is harsh and I was hoping to develop something to help this colony survive. Supply drops are getting farther apart, our sun growing more dangerous, we need something to help us adapt!” The scientist turned to Eero, but before he could speak, "Please! Let me test it out!" Eero pleaded. "I could be your first test subject. Look at me, I need it the most!” "Very well," he agreed. The scientist clicked his fingers. From the dark shadows of the lab a deep but electronic sounding voice emerged. "How can I assist you, Sir?” Eero gasped as the voices owner emerged from the shadows. A towering beast of metal and silicone, standing almost seven feet tall. A body made in the image of man, its exterior imitating and surpassing the musculature of even the strongest men. Gel filled silicone muscles covered every surface, only interrupted in a few places my metal plates around the joints, skull, hands and feet. And two strange looking bolts emerging from the beasts neck. "Eero, meet my metallic man, Frankenargie!" The scientist let out a slight maniacal laugh again, "I made him myself.” Eero was stunned, never in his primitive existence on this planet had he seen a robot before, thinking that they were only a thing of science fiction. "Hello, Sir," Frankenargie greeted Eero. "H-Hi," Eero squeaked, taking in the size of the huge metallic man. "Frankenargie! Collect a sample of the serum 'N4n-1te5' for young Eero here! Now!" Doctor Venficus bellowed at his metallic slave. "This serum, Eero, will induce rapid muscular development in your body. You will have your wish," the scientist declared. Frankenargie soon returned, holding the small vial of liquid, looking like mercury inside. Dr Veneficus took the vial from the muscly machine, holding it up in the light, rolling the vial across his fingers. "Yes," he scientist smiled admiring his creation, "this beauty is one of my greatest creations, its power must be seen to be believed.” Eero marvelled at the vial in the scientists hands, be could barely hold himself back from wanting to snatch it and swallow it right then and there. "But be warned young Eero, this serum has been shown to not only affect the body but also the mind. One who ingests its power must be clear and sound in mind, true to oneself, without conflict," he warned. "Are you sure you are of clear mind Eero?” Eero knew right away he wasn't, since his early teens he had felt his mind wracked with internal struggles, he had feelings he believed he shouldn't have, desired things he knew he shouldn't. In school he had never had any girlfriends, and instead spent his time admiring the strong guys in his class, half jealous, half in love with their strength. And now, at the age of 21 he still felt conflicted. But he wasn't willing to let that get in the way of what he wanted, he was not going to waste this opportunity. "Yes, I believe I am," Eero lied. "What could go wrong?" Eero reasoned to himself, "The Doctor is probably just pretending for dramatic effect," he thought. ”Very well then," the Doctor replied. "Take this home with you and witness its results. Come back to me when it is done.” "Thank-you Doctor!” ————————————————————————————————- # ——————————————————————————————————— Eero rushed home to try the serum, bounding down the hill at lightning speed but careful not to break the vial in his hands. He barrelled into his house, luckily his parents weren't home, out busy doing what they could to keep the colony running. Eero wasted no time in preparing to take the serum, eager to prove the colonist that he was not weak. He would show them! Eero pulled back the metal seal from the top of the vial. His breath was heavy, his heart beating through his chest. Eero swallowed the vial whole. Its taste like the worst halloween cocktail. At first . . . there was nothing. For a moment Eero was devastated, thinking that the weird scientist had played him. But pretty soon Eero began to feel an unpleasant strain in his body, all his muscles began to hurt at once, they felt raw. In truth, the tissue was breaking down and reforming stronger and bigger than ever before. Eero stood frozen in shock, his body tense, teeth gritted through the pain, sweat forming on his brow. His muscles were twitching and contracting all on their own. Eero's growth started in his pecs, they began to push up from underneath his skin, blossoming into two plump muscle-tits, just like he had always secretly dreamed of. They were solid but round, stretching the skin of his chest. His nipples too had expanded like marshmallows and stood erect as they swelled and grew extraordinarily sensitive. His abdominals suddenly emerged, bloating from under the skin, looking like rows of sticky candy apples, glistening with sweat. His waist stayed thin and beautifully tapered. Accentuating the extreme sweep from his lats. Eero became dizzy with his sudden transformation, he swayed from side to side, leaning over and holding his head in his hands, he groaned as his voice began to lower to a deep sexy bass. Powerful shoulders led down into a swollen back, and rippling arms ran into vascular hands and forearms. The width of his new upper body became too much for his flimsy t-shirt, shredding like paper. Eero groaned again, deep and pained like a wounded animal, a splitting headache interrupting what was otherwise a truly pleasurable experience. Eero soon sprouted a huge wide pair of glutes, the cheeks turning into the perfect bubble butt, complimenting new column like thighs and calves, twitching and pulsing larger with each heartbeat. Eero's other "muscle" soon joined in as well, already plump from the pleasure of his transformation, it lengthened slowly, 8, 9 , 10, 11 inches of hard, throbbing meat, begging to blow. Eero's face began to shift as well. His jaw flared out wide giving him and unbelievably manly, mouth watering look, his cheek bones high, his chin squared. For Eero wasn't just growing more muscular, he was becoming something much more. "Unnhhhh, YESSS!" Eero groaned with deep, unadulterated pleasure. Eero's slowly headed for the mirror in his sleeping quarters. Strutting down the passageway with his newbulk. Eero grinned wickedly as he took his new naked reflection, he had been transformed into a sexy muscular beast! His skin had also tanned beautifully, the colour of pumpkin pie! "Mmm, there you are," he cooed at his reflection, groping his pecs as he admired himself, "About time you broke free from your inhibitions.” Eero moved his hands downwards, nipples to abs to cock, stroking it a few times and breathing in deeply with the rush of pleasure that resulted. Eero noticed one last change began to occur. Hair slowly peppered itself like cotton candy down his body, a slight dusting along the canyon of his glorious new pecs, down his abs, and along his legs. But most importantly, an uber-masculine 5 O'clock shadow across his face. Eero admired the final changes, now he was ready. His mind, clouded by his own manly scent wanted just one thing, to fuck! Eero stomped into his parents sleeping quarters, looking for something to cover his new body with. He soon found what he was looking for, a pair of leather overalls and leather knee high boots that his father wore back when working in the mines. They were loose on him, but tight and oh so sexy on Eero. Eero took in his reflection one last time, admiring the outfit. "Oh Yeahhh," He growled at himself "My transformation is complete!" Eero pulled his arms up into a double biceps. "Eero is no more! Now, I AM EGO!!" he roared. ————————————————————————————————- # ——————————————————————————————————— Ego stomped out into the night, knowing exactly where he was headed. Out in the fringes of the colony there was a bar that everyone quietly knew catered to a certain clientele. And tonight Ego would take each and every muscular hunk there. The quiet roar of the bars interior was interrupted as Ego kicked the door in with his leather clad foot, catching all of the patrons' attention. Ego sauntered in, cracking his neck and then his knuckles. "All right men, you're in for a treat. Tonight I'm gonna fuck you all . . . . And then you're gonna do the same to me!" Eero grinned. And so did many of the bars patrons. ————————————————————————————————- # ——————————————————————————————————— The next morning Eero awoke with the most splitting headache he had ever felt. The pain was indescribable, and it was just his head that hurt, but his whole body. Especially, rather worryingly, his jaw and, and, and ass! And his new muscle was gone. Despite the pain, Eero shot up in his bed, blurry memories of the nights events coming back to him. Muscle, growth, power, freedom, and Sex. Eero gulped, "What have I done! What did I become last night?! A monster?!” Eero was terrified of himself. He knew right away it was his own fault. He had not heeded the scientists warning. Eero's secret desires that he had kept bottled up rose to the surface and broke free, altering his mind and allowing himself to act without inhibition. He had to tell the scientist, fearful that the muscular beast he had turned into might return at any time. He had to get a control over it. ————————————————————————————————- # ——————————————————————————————————— It wasn't long before Eero was back inside the scientists lair. He had to confess what the serum had done to him. "Doctor, last night after I took the serum, my muscles grew," Eero started. "You've taken it? Then why haven't your muscles stayed . . . no," the scientist gasped in shock, knowing something untoward had happened. "I-It changed me, I grew into some kind of muscular beast, I can't remember what happened exactly but I think I went to some bar and , and, fucked people," Eero was bright red with embarrassment, revealing his muscle-crazed actions. "No, you didn't. Your alter ego did," the scientist corrected. "You lied didn't you? About your mind without doubt and insecurity. And now the emotions, desires you repressed for so long have manifested themselves and formed an entirely new personality!” "You can feel him, can't you, creeping underneath your skin?” the scientist questioned. It was true, it was like a presence Eero could feel inside him, begging to break free again. "How do we get rid of the beast Doctor? Help me!" Eero begged. "I do not know exactly," Doctor Veneficus replied honestly. "The muscled monster inside of you lives for the pleasures it has been denied. And it probably will not stop until its thirst is quenched!" The Doctor let out a menacing laugh, delightfully amused by the unexpected turn of events. Things were going to get fun. Eero swallowed, "Wha-what do you mean Doctor?” "We must give the beast what it wants!" Veneficus grinned. "Frankenargie, come here at once!” Frankenargie lumbered out from the shadows again. The sight of him stirred something deep within Eero. "Help young Eero here loosen up! Hahahaha!" the scientist laughed manically again. Frankenargie approached a terrified Eero, Eero could already feel the beast inside waking from his slumber. The metallic man stood in front of Eero and began to lewdly grope and caress his own artificial muscle. The robot began to perform what looked like some kind of erotic dance routine, swaying his massive rippling thighs side to side, jiggling his gel filled bubble butt up and down right in Eero's face. He couldn't look away nor close his eyes, the muscle beast was already regaining control, drinking in the incredibly sexy display before him. Eero's body was sweating profusely, his limbs shaking, building up with contained energy begging to burst free. "No!" Eero pleaded with himself. "I won’t!" Eero and the scientist suddenly heard a tear, the t-shirt Eero had thrown on was already beginning to rip around a bulging bicep. “No!" “Won’t" “WOn't “WON't “WON'T" "WILL!" Egos deep voice returned amidst sounds of more fabric tearing. The beasts muscle returning. Ego held his chest joyfully as his beautiful muscle-tits returned, striated like two huge pumpkins. The cool temperature of the scientists lair made Egos nipples standing up like rocket-pops, just begging to be licked. Ego leaned his melon sized bubble butt against a wall as he enjoyed the show the Metallic Man was putting on for him. But he managed to pull his attention from Frankenargies gyrating body for a few seconds to address Doctor Veneficus. "Doctor, thank you. Thank you for setting me free!" the beast rejoiced with his deep, masculine voice. The scientist was frozen, totally in awe of the transformation he had just witnessed. He could only nod a response to Ego. The beast smiled and pulled the scientist in close. Bowing his head down to make out aggressively with the scientist. Doctor Veneficus felt the beasts powerful tongue invade his mouth, it tasted both sweet and sour. He rolled his eyes back in pleasure. Soon Ego grew tired of Frankenargies muscle show, "Stop dancing around like you're trying to turn tricks metallic man!” he bellowed, "come here instead and give me a treat!" now it was Egos turn to let out a deep menacing laugh. Frankenargie complied, sauntering over to the beast, his silicone tree trunk legs rolling over one another. But not even his simulated 300lbs was a match for Egos bulging 320lb mass! The metallic man bent over, presenting his rear to the muscled beast. Veneficus had secretly designed it for this very purpose. Egos massive tool quickly hardened at the sight of the hole, already pre-lubricated by one of the machines sophisticated internal systems. Ego slipped in hard and fast, leaning over the top of Frankenargie and grabbing the bolts on his neck for support as he vigorously thrusted in and out. Fortunately Veneficus card enough to give Frankenargie a nervous system, allowing him to feel the immense pleasure that came with Egos hard fucking. Soon the muscled beast could hold in no more. "OH! FUCK! YESSSSS!" He shouted, his voice rattling the various instruments and equipment scattered about the scientists laboratory. Ego Exploded gloriously inside the metallic mans chute. The feeling of the explosion was glorious to the muscled beast, his entire body seized by pleasure, all the years of been repressed and now finally he was free, liberated. His mind almost exploding at the overwhelming, mind bending pleasure, enough to send a lesser man insane. The scientist watched in awe the entire time, his pants wet with his own emissions from the erotic sight. Eventually Frankenargie and Ego collapsed on the ground in a pile of sated post-coital bliss. And soon after that, Ego began to disappear again, his muscles shrinking back down, turning back into Eero, almost. Eero's body didn't turn back to its original size, instead retaining some of Egos muscle. Eero emerged from his stupor, amazed at the new size his body had retained. "You see, your sub-conscious has rewarded you for been true to yourself," the scientist explained. “You're right Doctor, I was wrong to keep my feelings bottled up.” "Indeed," the scientist replied. "I guess to say thank you I should let him out every now and again," Eero grinned, "I won’t deny he's good company.” "I second that!" The scientist laughed. "Meeee Toooo," Frankenargie groaned, still lying in the floor, exhausted. End Chapter HAPPY HALLOWEEN! © Rekoobaz To see more, head on over to my Patreon page! patreon.com/rekoobaz The Intergalactic Adventures of Eero will be an ongoing series on Patreon. Chapters 1 and 2 are free to view to give you a taste. I'll be starting out with two chapters every month with more exciting content to come in the future. (I only need 10 more Patrons to reach my next goal!) If you're interested you find out more at patreon.com/rekoobaz By pledging just $1.00 per month you'll be able to enjoy more chapters in full at 4000+ words. Thanks, and again, feedback is appreciated!
  3. (So, this is my little Halloween tale. It gets pretty spooky on campus where I am, so this was a bit of inspiration for the story) ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ I don’t know how to say this without sounding fucking dumb but I think I need to tell someone before the worst happens… so I’m going to say it anyway: I’m afraid of going to the bathroom here in my dorm. I’m well aware of how stupid that sounds but if anyone finds this I want some kind of clue for whoever finds this log. What I hate the most is that this nightmare that I know is coming for me hides in the most unremarkable setting and there’s no way anyone will understand. I should’ve listened to my friends enrolling last fall and stayed out of this damn building. I really should have. My name is Lenny. If I was cooler like the rest of the guys on this floor I’m sure everyone would call me ‘Leo’, but I’m just a lanky freshman who can’t manage to make enough friends here at school. You know, they told me it would get better while I was picking up my textbooks off the floor a few days before graduation, but I still think about the assholes who used to bully me even as a high-school senior. I got good grades and managed to get myself a good scholarship to come here and study fine arts (I want to be an illustrator someday). Fuck it all, though, because when I came here I enrolled with assholes from their respective hometowns around the state. Oh, and I was so excited to be moving into the Arts & Design community building on campus. I was assigned to live with artists, writers, and graphic design students from the entire university. As my luck would have it the building flooded in my wing and due to the massive influx of new students I had to move into a new location… They gave me three choices then. I could pay an extra few thousand dollars to move into the newest dormitory on campus (Crowne, which I don’t have the money for), hope for the best in the freshmen ‘Discovery’ dormitory (Laurel- it was already packed and would place me on the eight floor with no elevator), or move into Helena… Helena was the second dorm ever made on campus and was still in commission. At first I thought all three of my options sucked but the school actually offered to waive my room expense so I would only pay for my meal plan on campus. They told me my scholarship covered this and Laurel would receive the same bonus. After I learned Helena’s dining hall was an up-scale buffet (well, at least for a college campus) and the rooms were a third bigger than anywhere else on campus, I took it. I ended up having to room with someone else but I didn’t care too much at the time. Kyle’s a really nice guy, actually, but that’s not the problem. I remember telling my few friends from high school I was moving into the building and most of them expressed joy- the building was rather pretty for a dormitory and you even got a sink in your room. The lobby looked like it belonged in an old Jane Austen film- the molding covered everything and they had an antique grand piano donated by some big-shot in the 50s. There were only three floors and only one of them was designated for guys (the first floor was for students 21 and over and the top floor was for girls). I was rather excited until Tanesha told me about the spooks in the halls. Everyone knew about the few weird stories around campus and how our school was known for strange occurrences and even paranormal activity. I don’t believe in any of that stuff… or I hadn’t, so I told her to not worry. We’d already sneaked into the library at night hoping to see the frosty janitor from 87’ on the roof and nothing had ever happened then. Nothing had happened these few nights after moving in. Nothing would ever happen at all. I was an idiot. And at this point, I wish I was dealing with a ghost. Or a monster. I don’t know. Something tangible! Something I could maybe fight off, or fight back. God, I’m so fucking scared. I know it’s going to happen soon if I don’t move out of this building. I don’t want to disappear… The first time I had the dream was about a week after moving in. Kyle (my roommate) may be a football player but he’s a nice guy and if anything I worried I might be taking advantage of his southern hospitality. He introduced me to his girlfriend and everything. The other guys aren’t too awful on this floor, either, albeit to a lesser extent. A lot of them are older and belong to fraternities from all around campus. They tend to be loud and annoying. A few of them are genuine shit-holes and they remind me of high school the most. They haven’t done anything terrible to me but they talk shit about women and pour ramen juice down the drinking fountains. I fucking hate that. The dream is always the same. I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes if I’m lucky- that way I don’t get to the worst part. At first I didn’t get very far in the dream, either. I just got a sense of dread from the beginning of the pattern. I would always wander the long hallways of the building in the dream before entering the poorly-lit bathroom. I have been losing sleep because of it, at this point. I always wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. For some reason, Kyle’s out of the room. He tends to sleep over at his girl’s so I stress even more when I know he’ll be gone the following night. I stumble out of bed, dry like a bone and needing to use the bathroom. Bear with me, I know this sounds rather normal… I get up and open the door, the lights in the hall flickering on and off… on and off… I’m usually in a graphic t-shirt with my favorite anime characters splattered on- that and basketball shorts so I don’t have to worry about being indecent in front of anyone. The dream is so real, I usually just wear the same thing. Most of the time I wouldn’t want my RA to talk to me (she’s really loud) but when I’m normally awake I pray she’ll stop me from going further down the corridor. She’s never doing her rounds in my dream. I simply drag my feet to the bathroom and go on about my business. Then it happens. I finish and I decide to sit down. I’m half-asleep anyway, but I try to stay awake and hold myself up by placing my hands on the stall’s plastic walls. I can definitely feel my head tilt back and forth as if I’ve gone into a trance or something... that’s when I start to change. I breathe in a long, heavy gasp and let out an even longer sigh of relief. It feels like coming out of a pool, as if I’ve never breathed before. My head then tilts backward so I can face the buzzing lamp above my stall, but my eyes close. I can feel the slight tingle run through the veins of my feet and upward. My hands slide up the walls slightly, feeling the coldness of the outside winds whisk through the frigid bathroom. The tingle makes my toes wiggle as I spread my legs apart a bit more. At first it feels like my blood is pumping faster. I breathe a little heavier when the tingle runs through my groin… I hate how much I enjoy the sensation as it vibrates through my spindly legs. With a slight jerk my knees twitch and the tendons around them make me jitter for a quick second. I can’t explain it really well, but it’s like taking a deep breathe that you don’t let go of without choking. I breathe out just fine, but I do sense something else. The feeling pervades within me and I finally recognize that I’m… well…. that I’m getting bigger. The pulse continues running up my root and I can’t help but moan. Nobody’s in the bathroom, I just moan softly enough to sense my cock twitching in my shorts. It starts running up my back, like warm water at this point massaging my under my skin. My stomach heats up along as I tilt my head to the side, my body slouching almost off of the toilet. The warmth starts becoming even hotter as I sense my head plunging into the sensation, my shoulders rolling back a bit to enjoy it too. The moment I feel it twitching through my arms I can tell my veins are pumping with warmth to my fingers. At this point you must be thinking I enjoy this. I ultimately don’t… At least not when I’m awake. I don’t know why it feels so good when I’m in the dream. It just does. At first I wondered why I was so scared of getting to the bathroom if all I would do is wake up with a pair of sticky boxers in the morning. Kyle didn’t seem to notice so at least I wasn’t making noises in my sleep. Everything continued as normal and he even invited me to join the inter-mural volleyball team for our dorm. Due to my lack of coordination I had to decline. There was just something inherently wrong with the dream, though. I knew that. It was as if I was being forced to experience such pleasure and that’s what really got to me. After I figured that out during my chemistry class I became determined to figure out the dream. I actually researched it and found that repetitive dreams often had to do with stress. I may be uncomfortable with myself and other people, but I didn’t think I was too stressed at the time so I went back to wondering what to do. Things continued as normal and I only had the dream every once in a while. I had the dream barely at all. It was towards the end of September that I started having the dream every few days. I thought about going to the counseling center to talk to someone about it but I didn’t want to waste a professional’s time on something as silly as a wet-dream… especially if they might think it was stupid. In the end the dream continued to develop and I continued to feel the sensations more and more, to the point that I could sense more specific details and remember them in the waking hours of school. There was a point where I knew that the shadowy bathroom wasn’t just cold; a little bit of frost was blowing in from the open window. My dream was taking place in the upcoming months, and even though at first I didn’t realize it was warning me. It was coming for me. I was starting to lose more and more sleep. I don’t consider myself very strong but I’ve always done will in class so I avoided worrying about grades as the bags under my eyes got worse. My roommate started worrying, but I passed midterms fine and I think he must’ve talked to the dorm’s staff to check on me. They eventually had someone come to see if I needed help. I told them I wasn’t on drugs and that ultimately, I was fine. The nightmare kept developing, though. My mind can’t help but remember it vividly. I would be in that bathroom stall, my head filling with some sort of energy… like water filling a pitcher I just felt myself becoming more and more full of it. That was when things started changing… I would feel the sensation of being full of this strange energy and it seemed to need expansion. And that was another thing I just didn’t understand. Slowly, I’d feel my feet start to ache. My bones feel like they’re irritated and sore and I start feeling unable to breathe but instead, I just swallow more air. I in fact feel my blood pumping… rushing through me as my heart palpitates like an furnace full of too much kindling. Shit, that’s exactly what it feels like- I start sweating from how hot and fast my heart is going. It feels like it’s only getting bigger, too. Like all of me is getting bigger… The sensation of my feet being aching spreads through me, and I stagger forward on my seat. I grunt and almost moan, as if I know what’s going to happen and as if I truly want it… I open my eyes to see my veins are thick and pulsing through my skin. Am I dying? Why does it continue? But I don’t ask these damn questions in my dream. I just welcome it. I feel my whole body tense up, like a giant cramp and I growl as my skin turns red with this strange… pump. I’d been avoiding the bathroom on my floor for a while now, even when in daylight. I would have continued if the men’s bathroom downstairs wouldn’t have flooded a few weeks ago. I asked so many questions about the repairs and all I got was that they’d have to fix it the upcoming semester. The groans of the guys on floor 1 pissed me off only because their problems weren’t as big as mine. Fuck, I hate that word. ‘Big’. I’m avoiding it, too. It’s a word that keeps creeping up on me. Not like a snake or a ghost, mind you. It’s definitely a hulking creature stalking me like its prey. I finally knew something was really wrong when I listened in on some of the bros as they got back from the gym. “Yeah, I feel really great after today. Look at this pump!” the first one said, wearing a tank he had cut out himself from a t-shirt he got at the beginning of the semester. “Damn, your arms look bigger already. No homo, hahah.” the other one commented in a chuckle. I thought it was all homo. “Well they say that when you get a real, honest-to-god pump you’re actually looking into the future. You know, because your muscles are so full of blood or whatever.” Said the first. “That shit’s kind of gross.” Laughed the second. As if I needed this information (I suppose I did, but hopefully from a better source that would disprove my insanity), I recognized the feeling. It was the feeling of getting a ‘pump’. The only difference, however, was that in my dream it was continuing and I didn’t know what exactly would happen at the end of the ordeal. I was determined to find out. I started researching dreams and finally contacted a private counselor via phone. It’s a nice service, I guess, and I could talk to her anonymously. She asked me how I felt about masculinity and other weird questions like my sexual orientation. I answered honestly when I told her I never really cared about being ‘masculine’ or muscular- I figured that’s what she was getting at. I just cared about my schooling and I didn’t really care to date anyone, man or woman. She eventually told me that maybe I had some kind of repressed sexual feelings, and that I could try exploring it a bit in a calm fashion. I start squeezing my hands, feeling my fingers tighten as this pump fills me. I relish it, my head rolling forward as my back becomes heavier than I can handle. The pulsing sensation doesn’t diminish. It only makes me change. It feels so fucking good changing. I grunt and even moan when I feel my legs finally getting thicker. In the daylight I’m thin and my legs look like pale sticks of flesh. I don’t know why I love the sensation of them growing. I see shapes I’ve never really noticed on a body (mine, or others) as my legs get thicker… and thicker… and stronger… And the sensation only moves upward. I just… it just keeps going. I feel my stomach tightening up and loosening, but only a little less than the wave that preceded it. I grunt as I feel my abdomen define itself, little bricks popping up through my burning-hot skin. I’m dripping in sweat as if I had any fat to lose to begin with and it hurts. Somehow I want it, I want the pain of this… growth? I just enjoy it so much as I feel my wrists shake and my hands clench up too tight. That’s when my pectorals start ballooning out. I usually buy shirts a size too big and I find myself quickly filling it in during this dream… Nightmare. It’s a nightmare. I can’t let it be a good dream. I won’t. I lost track when I hallucinated. I was walking down the normal street all students do here, and all while classes were ending. People go in all directions (we actually have a large record here on our campus for having the most busy pedestrian light in the state or whatever) and there’s no way you can get through on a bike. It was rather cold now, and I had already began dreading the first snow. I just remember walking through the crowds and hearing someone call my name. It sounded rather distant and I pretended not to hear just so I could get home faster. I’d just blame the distance to whoever would text me after the event. Heading home, however, is a bit of a walk for those who live in Helena. It’s on the farthest corner of campus and nowhere near the rest of the halls. At night it’s completely isolated. The crowds disappeared at some point and I recognized someone was close by on the same path. I just kept going and payed no mind, but it wasn’t until I got to a main road that I turned to see things had already gone awry minutes ago. There they stood- a hulking figure who had called out my name earlier. I recognized that they were staying about a block behind and they had been following me since I left class. I swallowed my breath and tried not to make eye-contact as I sped up my pace through traffic. They didn’t seem afraid, either. They were just eyeing me up, like a meal. I never took the time to see the features of this man in a black hood and hoped he wasn’t a hired thug. I almost ran into my building when I saw that he’d already disappeared. I jacked off after the nightmare a few days ago. Kyle was out at his girl’s and even though my anxiety was killing me, I stayed here. Nowhere to go during the weekdays. I got to the point where I start growing… and fast. I woke up with a hard-on and my balls ached so badly. It felt like I’d not jacked off in weeks, seems like. God, I was so embarrassed. I still am. But, just. Growing. It feels so good in my nightmare. I don’t know what to do when my cock is just throbbing inside my shorts and I need a moment of calm… Fuck. I just keep getting thicker. I finally understand why I groan in pain from the bone-aches. I think I hear a few bones pop, as if breaking and disjointing a bit. Maybe they’re just reframing so I can be taller. I can tell my feet are bigger simply by the cold surface of the tiled floor, meaning I’ve grown taller too. I’m already pretty tall, so god only knows how much taller I’m getting in this damn dream. I know that whoever leaves that bathroom isn’t me. That’s what frightens me the most. He’s bigger. Cooler. Much stronger than me. But he isn’t me. What if he’s an asshole? Fuck. He’s really big, though. I’ve never cared about these things before. Why is this happening to me, of all people? What did I do to have this become my eldritch horror? I don’t want to disappear! And yet, feeling my hands get thicker, calloused from deadlifting so damn much turns me on so bad now. Feeling my sweat drip off of my nose as I get water after a workout- something about it excites me. I’ve never cared about sports or eating extremely healthy. And fuck, somehow still it’s coming for me. What if I stop studying art? I got a letter with information on the business program here- of all fucking degrees, can you imagine?! This is his doing, I can tell! I’m going insane and it’s all HIS fault because he wants me to be bigger and muscular and I don’t know why! It doesn’t matter. I haven’t gone to classes all week. I’m doing well enough that this won’t do anything for me, except get the board on my ass for skipping so much. I’ve told my teachers I’ll send the work in, I just can’t make it. I haven’t slept. It’s so cold. Everyone plans on going somewhere for the weekend and I’m stuck alone in this fucking place and- And the dream finished, in full. Last night. I woke up and walked to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and pissed, then pulled up my pants. I looked up and closed my eyes as the weirdness filled me. Then I began to grow. Damn, every time it feels even more real. I feel my arms getting… thicker. Biceps that look like baseballs, and proceed to swell even bigger. Fuck- forearms that look like tree-branches from all the striations as I spread my legs. My cock actually grows, filling my tight underwear as I moan. I can feel my balls actually churning cum because I’m just that virile now… and damn, these basketball shorts just fill up with mass as I get thicker. I can’t think straight anymore, my quads just flex as I cross my clenched hands. Feeling my back pop and spread to the sides excites me so bad! I just gasp when I hear the first sounds of my shirt tearing down the middle! I don’t hesitate, either. I just reach down to tug my shorts off- tearing them like paper, as I look down at my huge cock. It bobs up and down, looking like I pumped it full of air and left a cock-ring on it for days. I feel myself up, my fingers going through every ridge of muscle. Every little bump that forms around my abdomens makes me feel even wider. My waist must be tiny because I can’t really feel it at the side of my arms. My cock dribbles so much just tugging on my stretched out nips, too… I just keep slamming down onto my huge cock, dripping pre onto the floor and moaning like some kind of beast in the wild. I roar, claiming my new body as I flex my left arm up. The pleasure alone makes me feel more powerful than anything in the world could. I haven’t’ slept. I don’t know if anyone will notice me disappearing, either. I keep having issues getting on social media, contacting people. I’m so isolated. I could’ve sworn I saw HIM walking the halls. He wants to take over my life. He wants me to be bigger. Be a different man. Keeps dangling it in front of me… Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe I’ll transfer into a cool business program. The guys there might not even be assholes. And we can fuck, too. No, wait. That’s not…. What I want. I need to sleep a little in the day and then not worry so much about night-time… It doesn’t matter anymore. I was finally able to log in to my social media. I don’t exist anymore. All my profiles. All my pictures online. Even the ones just on my phone- they’re all of somebody else. Yeah, they look like me. He looks a lot like me. His jaw is just squarer… He’s almost as tall as a basketball player… I’ve grown thick hair all around my neck and keep it long on my head so it makes me look rugged… And I wear tight clothing so my pecs almost pop off my buttons… I look… really good. It’s time to down a glass of water, maybe, and wait for me to head to the bathroom. I think I see him… me… out in the courtyard waiting for me to give in. My window is open so I don’t fall asleep, but I think it’s time I closed it. It’s starting to snow. The sensations I feel when I burst out of my clothes and walk over to the mirror are unmatched. I kind of want to see him staring back at me. We can flex together. I can flex hard. Who knows, maybe this is a really good dream have, after all.
  4. The Halloween Party to End All Halloween Parties: Part 1 “Mr. Street? Mr. Peters will see you now." A handsome young Thai looking man in a simple polo shirt from the reception desk told me this, with a warm smile. I looked around the nondescript waiting room. Getting here had taken me considerable time and resources. This was no average office. Only the elite of the elite could get here. Inside the cozy den office with plush furniture and leather seats was a young man around my own age wearing a suit and who held an unlit cigar in his hand. He exuded confidence. "Mr. Street. I'm Peters." No first name, he noted. "You can call me Joe." "Joe it is. So, what can I do for you, Joe? Your request sounded...a bit inventive." He started to look through some papers I assumed was my new file. I sat down opposite him. "I want a potion that will turn people into their Halloween costumes. I need something that will force them to come if they get an invitation and I need a way of transforming them from straight to gay as well." "That is a very tall order. There would, of course, be stipulations." "Of course." "We would control the costumes, approve which ones get used and which don't. We don't do all forms of transformation. We at the Male Transformation League, or MTL for short, are the cream of the crop of magical experts in this field. You will not find anyone outside this office who can even begin to attempt such a feat. First of all, we don't like male to female stuff. That's a different union." "Gotcha. That's okay." "Second, we don't do anything...too disfiguring. Our clients needs can be met by many different specialists we have on call. We aren't willing to do anything demon related for reasons that I will not go into. Likewise, no zombie, ghost, vampire, or anything related to the undead. Now, mental transformation is tricky. If you have say, a historical transformation, it would require explanation afterwards. Are you looking for...permanent transformation?" "Yes," I said nervously. "That will require significantly more capital." "My father is quite wealthy. I would require a spell leaving me in charge of the family fortune somehow, so that I could assure you payment. We're worth-" "We know what you're worth, Mr. Street. Believe me." He cut me off. Peters acted much older and more authoritative than most men his age. If he was really young, I thought suddenly. Who knew how old he was? We went over my list. He edited it down. “Would you care for a cigar, Mr. Street?” “I don’t smoke.” “Please, I insist. Most of us here are cigar smokers and I weave spells into my special blend. This will make you immune to the negative effects of smoking for the rest of your life. There’s a lot we don’t share with common folk, you see, and marketing magic is…very tricky. You can’t shove it out of a factory, it has to be carefully tailored. Hence why we cater only to a select few.” He lit my cigar and I found myself under his spell, smoking for the first time and loving it. I found myself taking a sadistic joy in my cigar. He must have wanted this, I thought. I’ve never wanted to smoke before, ever. I smiled in spite of myself with eagerness. "This time of year is busy for us. I'm going to assign you multiple staff members, who usually work Halloween. One of them exclusively. His name is Hezekiah Graves. Born in the winter of 1823. I think he'd be willing to take this one on." I swallowed nervously and nodded. We worked out a deal and shook hands. I was led outside to the magical hallway from which I’d come. I glanced outside the window. A tropical beach halfway around the world greeted my eyes, and a few parrots nested in a jungle tree just outside the window. “Unbelievable.” I walked out the door I was shown and found myself in an alleyway outside an abandoned brick building on the outskirts of the town I lived in, and it was the middle of the night. I made haste to make preparations and thought about the specifics. I continued smoking my cigar and the smoke drifted up into the streetlights and the tree leaves turning orange from their pale ghostly green. I had provided a list of names (I was only allowed a certain number) and the next day woke up feeling refreshed and ready to take this on. Each and every name would be…a new man by the time Halloween arrived. Halloween. The day came and I was giddy. Trick or treaters started to filter out of schools and across neighborhoods. I had candy set up at five in pumpkin bowls and stood outside my rather large house rental. Well, mansion really. From the Victorian age. I was of course in the best neighborhood in my college town. I could have shared my 8 bedroom house, but I was waiting to groom the right housemates. My father went along with it because really, our family can do as it likes without worrying about things like money. After trick or treat time ended, the party started in earnest. At 8’o clock the guests started to show up. I had a full bar ready, with beer, wine, hard liquor and cigar humidors. I had music, and decorations. I had spent a week turning the house into the front of the house into a perfectly campy college Halloween party setting, with cheesy designs and nothing actually scary, just a few store bought ghosts and spiderwebs out front. All of the invitations had been laced with an instruction to come, and to come alone. No girlfriends or wives, no mothers or sisters. This was an all male event for mostly straight men. They were to tell their SO’s they were up to some prank mischief and not to ask questions. Brock was the first to arrive. A large, blond meathead with no talent for anything but football and maybe had a future career as a meathead high school football coach. All of my lovelies were sent magical instructions to not bring a costume. Those would be provided for them. “Am I the first one here, man?” “You’re a bit early. Everyone should be here by 9.” “Nice. So when do the hookers get here?” I should mention at this point the invitations would also show their invitees exactly what they would want to read. Hookers, drugs, threeways with cheerleaders brought in from other schools, Russian models looking for American husbands, or kinky shit. If they thought it, that is what they believed they were going to get. Their fantasy. Well, there were no hookers or drugs or threeways with cheerleaders. This night would be about MY fantasies. He just didn’t know it yet. “I’m sure you’ll find yourself in more enjoyment you can possibly imagine in just a few short hours,” I told him. He smiled in wonder, looking around the mansion with its 30 ft ceiling and grand staircases. “This place is fucking sick!” Two other jocks arrived. Neither with costumes. They all knew each other and started to talk. One asked about costumes. I told him those would be provided when everyone arrived. As the hour grew, we had some of the nerd contingency arrive. A gaggle of homely, acne ridden, RPG playing, chemistry studying little know it alls. A few of them were already gay, including at least one of the jocks. The others were straight as an arrow. We had an evenly matched group number. 13 short, weaker men who did little socializing and 13 alpha males, the cream of the crop of the university’s football, lacrosse, and wrestling teams. As the groups began to mingle, both were strangely noticing that there were no “in between” groups. I made sure to introduce myself to everyone and assured them I would explain why they’d been invited. Most of them knew a few other people at the least, and many had curious looks on their faces but held back at my request. Still, I heard mutters of “this is weird” and “why are we even at this place?” I looked at myself, a dapper 19 year old with neat shiny auburn brown hair, dressed in an expensive black tux with an orange tiger lily in the lapel. You know, for effect. I tapped my glass once everyone had arrived and waited for silence. Show time. “Thank you all for coming on time to the estate. This is an unusual party you will be coming into tonight. The fact is, I have an affinity for football and lacrosse and am fans of many of you I invited tonight. My family is very wealthy and we spend quite a lot of money on the school’s athletics program, so we sometimes invite the more prominent athletes to our more exclusive events.” Some of the jocks exchanged looks of pride and nodded in understanding. Yeah, that’s us, they thought. We are the fucking best here. No one in school comes close to us. Our size, our stature, our masculine gifts. “Likewise, those of you on academic scholarship have all benefitted from the labs my family has purchased for the school and the internships we have provided the top students in the sciences.” Several of the reed-thin, glasses wearing, poorly dressed or overly fat manchildren began to exchange quietly excited whispers. “But I assure you, my family only wants to make sure that we keep excellent communication with the best students from either end, whether it’s academics or athletics to ensure that our investment is a sound one. Tonight will be a thank you for all of your hard work and dedication. And it will provide a possible window to your future…” I said mysteriously, letting that one hang. “With no further adieu, I present you with your costumes. Changing rooms are behind me. Please put the costume chosen for you on, each person has had one exclusively selected by me, so no trading. Not if you want your treats,” I smiled. I heard whispers about hookers. Liveried servants (agents of the Male Transformation League in disguise) marched out with boxes for each “candidate”. The jocks pored through theirs. Some laughed. Some didn’t. I didn’t care what their reaction was because the magic compelled them to put on the costume no matter what they wanted. Jocks and nerds alike filtered into the back room which was partitioned with foldout wooden screens. I peeked inside as I caught a glimpse of jock muscle and clothes being tossed aside for their new, very expensive new personas. Once everyone was dressed, some were embarrassed and some were having fun. In particular a nerd named Lyle who was dressed in a cop uniform. His thick glasses and pipe cleaner arms were proof he had to be in a costume, not to mention his goofy grin. Lyle was gay but he didn’t know I knew. I knew so much about all of them. I smiled and sipped my wine. It smelled particularly heavenly tonight. In the adjacent dining room, tables had been set up but no chairs. Food lined the way and a DJ played music as the fellas waited for their “entertainment”. “Enjoy the music, guys. Your…entertainment will be here shortly.” A few more nerds and jocks trickled in. On the jocks side, some particular favorites included Nick, who was dressed as a biker, with leather vest and jacket, fake tats the servants had helped to apply, complete with a bandana and a fake gut that was nothing more than Styrofoam. Another was a minotaur, with cheesy horns, and shaggy mane. One was an orc named Larry roughly the same design as World of Warcraft. We also had one jock in a little boy’s sailor suit from the 50s, which he was none too happy about, complete with an oversized novelty cap with a ribbon. Almost all of the jock costumes reflected not their physiques, but rather a lessened stature. When Olaf came out as a gay muscled slut, complete with a collar and wearing a tight mesh shirt and see through crotch with assless chaps, the fellas all started to laugh. “What the FUCK, man?” “Dude, don’t ask. I’m only here for the cheerleaders. If I get to hobnob with a billionaire later, I’ll fucking dress up as gay or whatever. I don’t fucking care.” “Well you look REALLY fucking gay,” said Charles, who was dressed in a redneck outfit, complete with overalls, giant straw hat, and plastic pitchfork. His pectorals were very real and large and shone with grease. “Hey, what’s Chad supposed to be?” asked Larry, who was the resident orc. “I know I’m supposed to be Shrek but what the fuck are you?” “I’m a were-dog, they said. Half man half dog, like uh, that guy in Spaceballs.” “Oh, okay I get it.” Neither one commented on the rather realistic looking Doberman mask not looking anything like John Candy’s silly makeup. It took a while for them to stop laughing at the gay submissive costume that Olaf was wearing, but when Calbert, a 6’6” black football player who was one of the most muscled men in school, stepped out in his pink fairy costume, the room erupted into laugher. Calbert was a good sport, he danced on twinkle toes for the laughs and then grinned. “Nobody better say anything, now where’s the ladies?” “Right before us!” Kris said. He was dressed as a prisoner, in a bright orange jumpsuit. “What are you supposed to be?” Calbert asked Ross. “Minotaur!” Ross replied Ross had a good sense of humor, too. His stature surpassed that of Calbert. He was 6’8” and approached 280 lbs of muscle as of last week. “Probably because I’m so horny,” he said with great satisfaction in his voice. “Oh, I see. It’s like that,” Calbert said in his deep voice. Then he looked across the room. “Is this someone’s idea of a joke?” “You’re telling us. It’s weird, right? Jocks usually get the cool costumes,” Evan said. He was wearing a burlap shirt and leather pants and sandals, and he was carrying a tray for some reason. “What are you?” “I’m a Roman senator, I think. See, they gave me Roman coins.” He had them in a satchel at his side. “There’s other cool stuff in here, like Roman writing I don’t understand and a necklace.” “You look more like 12 Years a Slave, motherfucker.” “Hey yeah, maybe you’re a Roman slave.” “I’m a slave only to love, gentlemen. If a girl with hot tits comes in soon, I’m her fucking slave tonight, so watch out.” “But seriously, why do the geeks have all the good costumes?” Bud asked. He was wearing an oversized child’s sailor suit, and very unhappy about it. But then he could have gotten the fairy costume, he reasoned to himself. ** Across the room the nerds had gathered in clusters. It was a big drawing room filled with tables of food and large sofas, usually antiques. A few leather armchairs adorned the room, and paintings that looked a hundred years old of what people assumed were the former proprietors of the house. Apart from Lyle, who was as gangly as you could get, dressed in his cop blues, there was Gavin, who looked like he was 12 and fresh out of junior high but was in fact 18. He had curly brown hair and looked a little bit like David Moscow who played Josh Baskins from Big. There was Lucas, also small and wearing glasses, with flat light brown honey colored hair, dressed as a football player. There was Cory, who with his incredibly flat chest could barely keep up even his costumed Roman gladiator outfit, complete with giant plastic sword. There was Lynn, who hated his name, and had to tell everyone what his costume was. They just gave him a wife beater shirt and a necklace and told him he was a bouncer. He wore a puffy muscle suit that was obviously fake and he told several people he felt embarrassed wearing it and just wanted to go home. He had a mop of curly hair, and an ample gut and was often depressed over it. He was a loner and didn’t like to communicate with others outside of role playing games. “None of us are talking with the jocks,” Ben noted. “That’s because none of us have talked with them very much before. It’s weird. No one I know outside of you guys is here. It’s just jocks and D&D gamer group people.” Lyle said. “Actually, I don’t know those guys,” Lynn said, pointing to a group of other nerds. Lyle introduced him to Andy, who was a new transfer student and looked like a little boy dressed as a rodeo cowboy. Again, puberty had missed this one. He had a clean, pretty freckled Irish face and red hair. His friend was his cousin, named Owen, and he was a thin Moby-ish looking dude with a shaved head and thin, and wore a nose ring which wasn’t part of his costume, which he explained was a prison guard. Most of them didn’t know Carl, who Gavin knew, and that was because he mostly didn’t game. He was dressed as Popeye, complete with fake huge forearms and a sailor suit and a can of spinach for a prop. Damon, Eric, and Benjamin were the others that didn’t game. Damon was dressed in a cream suit and broad hat, an older 30’s style which he explained made him a gangster. He even had an old copy of a revolver at his side. Eric was dressed like Aladdin, with a purple vest and a turban, and fat on top of that. His ratty, long greasy hair reminded you of a young Penn Gillette if he had been even more obese before his weight loss. And Benjamin had some hardcore leather jacket on which dwarfed him. He was only 5’6” and could be described as “delicate” with a rather effeminate voice and dark hair grown a little too long around. He was pissed and said he felt like someone was playing a prank on all of them. He was the only other geek there that was at least openly gay and he complained to Lyle about it. “Dude, someone has me dressed as Tom of Finland!” “Dude, you look great. Who’s Tom?” “Look. Ugh. Something is wrong here, I can’t quite put my finger on it. I keep wanting to leave but then I stay.” “Maybe you can’t wait to get some of that sweet pussy later.” Benjamin looked at him with annoyance. “There’s something…wrong about all this. Why do I have this thing?” He showed off his cat-o-nine tails. “I dunno, but this guy’s parents are billionaires so I say suck up to him and then we’ll leave early, okay?” “Alright. I guess. The last people to enter the room were Lance, Amar, and Dan. Dan was obviously a stereotypical nerd. Even though he was captain of the football team, a practical god and model, he had been “nerded up” with gelled hair, oversized glasses, a bow tie, a pocket protector, and a couple of physics books he carried around with him. “You have gotta be fucking kidding me. Really?” Lucas asked, his football uniform unsuccessfully filled out by his meager frame. Dan was about twice as big as him. Was this someone’s idea of a joke? “Rich people are so fucking weird, why is that one guy dressed like a dog?” “You guys aren’t mingling!” Joe Street said in his tuxedo. “I am going to bring you all over to mingle. Come along, everyone! Now that we are all here, let’s make our way into the next room. It has a bit more festive appearance!” They walked out of the large room and into another. It was like going inside a museum, Lyle thought. Everything was so grand and big and everyone was now in the same narrow passage as they wound through the house following Joe. Servants dressed up for the part ushered them in if they went the wrong way. The house on this end was darker, lit only by orange candles in sconces. Finally they reached a regal dining hall, lit only by candles. Finally they were to dine. Servants brought out more than just the chips and vegetable platters from the previous room. There was roast beef and pork chops, pasta, and all sorts of gothic sculptures filled the room, all lit rather eerily in soft orange tones. Jack-o-lanterns grinned from every corner of the room. All sorts of fall themed foods from sweet potatoes to turnips and carrots, salads and rice that melted in your mouth alongside more gourmet salmon and coconut shrimp. Everyone knew this kind of spread and presentation took a pretty penny and they weren’t sure why they were seated next to each other the way they were, but the seating arrangement was pre-made. It was nerd-jock-nerd-jock all the way around the long table. Joe sat at the front on a chair that resembled a throne. “Excuse me, sir. We’re a little bit confused by our costumes.” “Yeah, like, how did you get them? These are our clothes.” “Ah, yes, I meant to tell you about those. Amar and Lance are roommates and they get along quite famously, according to Lance here. But Amar is wearing Lance’s lacrosse uniform and Lance is wearing Amar’s math league sweater. “But how did you get them,” Amar asked. He was a very small Indian boy around the age of 16 who was easily the smallest one there. He only reached a height of about 5 feet 1 inch. He had worked his way to America by being a math genius, but his childhood had been very poor. Lance looked at him like a little brother. “I cannot reveal my secrets,” Joe said. “But I can tell you to have fun. Let’s dig in, everyone. In a few hours the real entertainment arrives. In the meantime, I have a string quartet here. And I do ask that you not take off your costumes until that time.” As certain jocks struggled with their costumes and exchanged annoyed glances, namely Nick’s Styrofoam biker gut and Ross’s minotaur outfit, not to mention Larry’s oversized orc outfit with its big fur cloak that for some reason Lyle hadn’t noticed before. Gavin was also having problems with his knight costume. He had a giant helmet over his head. “Excuse me, can I take my helmet off.” “Not if you want another scholarship to cancel out that loan you took to get you through the next year. I’m willing to do that, but wear the helmet,” Joe said. “Same goes for anyone else having any financial difficulty this year, which is really most of you. I mean you’re doing alright for the time being but almost all of you could use some extra educational benefits and I hope to provide some, but only if you all play along. For me. I love Halloween, and it’s something I rarely got to partake in growing up at home. Father was always saying it was a commoner’s holiday and Mother didn’t care for it. But me? It’s my very favorite day.” “Um, okay. I guess I can eat through the visor.” “Thattaboy!” Something nagged at Benjamin’s mind still. He was noticing things around the table. Larry’s orc costume seemed rather silly but he hadn’t been wearing face paint before. No one else noticed this. He tried to whisper to Lyle or Damon but they were both too far apart for him to do so above the din. All of the jocks were talking and shoveling food in their mouths and eventually tried to make small talk with the geeks. Benjamin in his leather cap and heavy leather jacket had a sinking feeling. All of this felt really, really wrong somehow. Like a setup, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. He wanted to leave. He was a natural loner and skeptic, but he also was very good at avoiding people he thought had secret motives and this place just screamed “secret motives.” His freaked out expression eventually caught the eye of Chad the Dogboy. “What’s rup, bro?” “Oh, that’s cute.” “Rut’s cute?” “Nothing. So are you enjoying all this?” “Yeah, it’s really something! I can’t rait to tell all my riends about it! Raww” Chad scratched at his head with his paw that he hadn’t taken off. He was managing to eat by grabbing his spoon with both “paws” until he gave up and just ate directly off his plate. Several jocks laughed. “Hey, when in Rome, right?” Evan the Roman senator or possibly slave said, with an exaggerated shrug of his arms. “Here, here!” Cory said next to him in his centurion gear. Evan was so much more muscled than Evan it didn’t seem…right. It’s like someone decided to purposefully switch the costumes that would have made the most sense. Benjamin narrowed his eyes and studied the table back and forth. “Hey! That’s mine!” Kris the orange jumpsuited prisoner said, stabbing about four slices of beef, the last on the platter and giving Dan the fake nerd a deathglare. “Okay, dude. Geez, it’s like you’ve never eaten before.” “I just know what’s mine! You stick to your own plate, motherfucker!” Kris threatened. “Oh, I get it, guys! Kris is acting like a prisoner.” Dan laughed. Dan laughed in a really annoying way and began snorting water out of his nose. He drew the attention of several people down the row who thought he was play acting like he was a character from Revenge of the Nerds. He was one of the biggest guys at the table but he was hunching his arms between his legs in a very un-football captain like way. He was not really comfortable in his muscled body, he thought suddenly. He felt like he should be the one everyone was laughing at for comic relief, even though he’d never been very funny before. He was relieved when people laughed with him as he smiled an innocent, almost too innocent sheepish grin. Lyle suddenly felt like he could eat a horse and started to pile on his mashed potatoes and beef. Servants brought more food. Rolls and fancy hors d’oevres. His arms swelled against his costume. At first he had thought it was too big for him, but he guessed Joe did a better job at finding a cop shirt his size, he thought. His black cop shirt and gold star badge shone with eerie realism. Hadn’t he been wearing a blue cop shirt, really cheesy? He shrugged. Guess it didn’t matter. Down the table, Bud was remaining rather silent. His sailor getup was demeaning and he was just waiting until the girls got there. This whole thing seemed fucking gay to him. Was this guy a fag? Probably, but he was a rich fag, so he would be good unless the fag made a move on him, and then he’d break his legs. “This is kinda weird, isn’t it?” Lucas asked next to him. Lucas was on the end and sitting opposite of Calbert the fairy and next to Bud, so they were the only ones he could talk to. “You’re telling me. Do I look like a fairy to you?” “Only every day on the field.” “Shut the fuck up, Sailor Moon. With your ratty ass hat.” “None of this makes sense. None of this adds up.” “Free food always adds up. You’ve been packing it away all night so far. Goddamn you eat a lot for a little guy.” “Thanks. I’m unusually hungry.” “You’re not touching your plate.” “Neither are you.” Calbert said to Bud. “I’m not hungry. I’m too horny to be hungry. I haven’t had sex in like two whole days.” “You poor thing. How do you live?” Lucas quipped, scratching at his now profuse arm hair. Wait, had he always had arm hair? There was… a lot of it. I mean, sure he hadn’t had it when he was a kid but when puberty hit, it had given him a pretty nice coating all over. He absentmindedly touched the hairs sticking out of his chest above the football jersey. At least he thought so…he frowned in confusion and then asked Bud if he was going to eat his steak. “Fucking take it. I’m not hungry at all.” Joe surveyed the table. The orc’s skin was full lime green now. Carl, wearing his Popeye uniform had managed to go from a cheap five dollar knockoff to an actual very real Navy uniform and cap. No one had seemed to notice. Joe smiled, trying to contain his giddiness. Gavin was slightly taller, but it was hard to tell with his knight costume. Lyle’s costume was tighter. Lyle also looked slightly older. The normally smooth faced boy had the beginnings of a cop mustache growing in. The Romans were looking a tiny bit different. Cory’s arms were slightly bigger in his centurion outfit and Charles seemed slightly smaller in his hick outfit, filthy tattered clothes and straw hat aside. Everyone at the table seemed to be almost…glowing with happiness or maybe that was just Joe’s imagination. Another ten minutes went by. Lance and Amar sat on either side of him. Lance seemed bored and Amar seemed energized as he talked with the submissively dressed Olaf in his mesh shirt. Was he taller? He definitely seemed to be so. Joe felt his cock get hard. Another ten minutes went by and he glanced casually up and down the way. Kris the prisoner now had a shaved head where he had hair before, and his frame seemed diminished. Owen the prison guard was animatedly talking with Damon the nerd gangster. Owen’s face seemed to have aged a bit. The 20 year old looked like he had graduated and he seemed to have gained a tiny bit of fat around his face. He looked more like 25 and had a definite five o’clock shadow that he lacked before. His Moby-ish looks had disappeared. He just seemed to have a bigger face, more…masculine…Joe noticed the way he talked now was more confident. Kris the prisoner, just across from him, looked unnecessarily nervous and kept darting his eyes back and forth as if to plan an escape. I’ll have to keep an eye on him, Joe thought. As the meal ended with desserts, Benjamin ran his hand through the back of his hair and couldn’t find it. He stopped cold, and felt gingerly underneath his leather daddy cap. It was gone. He had a buzz cut. Didn’t he always have a buzz cut? No, his friends had just made fun of him the other day for his greasy hair! They had told him to cut it! But he always kept it neat. Neat and clean, like a real man, he thought. Nick the would be biker burped and patted his ample gut, which upon slapping it he found, made the same sound as a regular gut would, like his uncle had. Annoyed, he tried to take the Styrofoam half sphere out only to find that it was just his normal regular old gut. Why would he even need Styrofoam? There was plenty of him to go around. Larry the orc, not to be outdone, let out a long belch and declared in a Scottish accent to have the best burp in the land. What no one seemed to register were some rather large teeth beginning to poke up around his mouth. His normally cut and muscular frame was still large but seemed added onto somehow. As if he had gotten more bulky. Larry nodded and arched his eyebrows over to Damon, who was looking really nicely tanned. Much more so than anyone at the table and he felt very cool in his cream colored suit. He leaned back and declared he could go for a cigar right about now. Some laughed because they thought he was kidding. Others like Nick the biker and surprisingly Carl in his Popeye getup mumbled they could really use one as well. Carl no longer had plastic showing. His forearms and biceps were positively enormous. Forearm training had to be one of the most difficult but for a man of Carl’s stature it was no problem. As he ate, no one noticed him grow taller. He also lost all of his hair as it receded underneath his sailor cap. His shirt filled out with muscle slowly as his mouth burned for the pipe he kept in his shirt pocket, along with a small tin he couldn’t wait to smoke. “Just so you gentlemen know, I allow smoking after meals in the house,” Joe declared. “Thank God,” Carl said, and brought out his pipe and tobacco and rolled a plug in expertly before lighting up, puffing and releasing aromatic plumes. His jaw moved back and forth and no one noticed that his jaw actually got bigger with each puff, slightly bigger and bigger until it was huge. He grinned mischievously and chomped on his pipe as he chatted up with Charles in his redneck farmer outfit, who nobody had been looking at. He looked like he had shrunk considerably and he strained to look over the food at his new friend in the Popeye getup. God, he was so hot, he thought. He looked like a carbon copy of Popeye! Wish I was that tall, the formerly towering football star thought. At only 5’4” he was probably one of the shortest ones here, and he definitely jealous of anyone that could pull off that kind of character look! Growing up on a farm hadn’t helped him at all to become any kind of muscular stud. In fact, things had always been hard for his family and getting the right amount of food had always been a struggle. Charles…no…that wasn’t right…Chuck, knew that he would never have the stature of other men but he could certainly be a congenial farmer’s son. Joe called the room to attention. They were to proceed to the dancehall. The adjacent room’s door opened behind him and a blue neon light seeped out along with dry ice fog that billowed out as everyone stood up. Benjamin felt his blood run cold. Everyone was different heights than they were before! It wasn’t possible but it was possible. Some were the same, like Larry the Orc and Owen the prison guard had been of the same height before but the old Owen was a Moby lookalike and this one looked like Owen’s muscular dad had taken his place. Lynn had a full moon face. He was a big fat guy with no trace of facial hair. His hair was repulsively long, running in light brown-blond waves down past his shoulders. Though his costume was somewhat simple, just a wife beater and a chain, something was happening with him. As Ben watched, fixated, Lynn ran his hands through his hair. He had very effeminate mannerisms and it would be shocking if he wasn’t gay. But then something shifted somehow. He was talking to someone, and when he turned his face back, it looked…impossibly thinner. And his hair was…getting shorter. His hair, as impossible as it may seem, was receding inside his head. Almost as if someone was winding it back in. Lynn animatedly talked about something. Whereas before he had looked like a gay, teenage version of Meat Loaf, now he was losing weight rapidly. And as his hair receded to six inches, five, four, three, two, and then a buzz cut, his big moon-face dwindled like a deflating balloon. A tuft of chest hair, a thick mat, suddenly grew out, like a time lapse motion film of plants growing in the middle of a desert. A few curls quickly became a furry mat. He had stopped batting and rolling his eyes and making effeminate, dramatic gestures with his hands. Almost as if he’d settled into his new body as it transitioned, he became more calm and a sly smile crept over his face, as facial hair grew in for the first time, at first a peach fuzz and then spreading like a time lapse into a sandpaper-textured, graphite gray stubble which covered his now healthy looking face. But his eyes still retained a bit of their glint. Ben shook his head. Maybe I’m hallucinating? Lyle had filled out his black cop uniform and was wearing a policeman’s walkie talkie. And he had a full mustache he didn’t have before. Everyone was ushered forward. Benjamin looked down at a lady servant dressed in Victorian livery. “This way, sir, if you please.” “Oh, right. He got up. He felt dizzy. His legs seemed…longer. It wasn’t possible but he knew instantly it had to be. He was taller. He had to be at least six feet now, judging by how much taller he was than Joe, who was taller than him by a few inches when he first came in. He didn’t want to know where this was going but he eased his mind. Because he already knew. He had deduced it. No one else could see through whatever was happening here. But he could. Amar was still shorter than Lance but he had definitely grown. The former Indian short stock had piled up to a decent 5’11” and Lance had shrunk down to about 6’1” meaning they were only a few inches apart. It looked like Amar had bulked and Lance had reduced. “That was a great meal, man.” “I know,” Lance said. “For real. What a weird night, though.” He patted Amar on the shoulder and looked at him funny. “What?” “Nothing, just felt like something was off.” “Maybe you need a beer, man!” Amar said, in an uncharacteristically brolike way, and lacking his accent in lieu of a completely Americanized English.” “Yes, you are most right,” Lance said, in all his blond glory, sounding oddly Indian. Benjamin walked slowly, letting everyone go before him. Erik and Lynn had been sitting on the same side as him but too far down for him to notice before that Lynn the Bouncer no longer had fake muscles, but rather real ones. He was about the same height but now his stride was confident and his wife beater clung to his enormous rock hard pectorals, which were the size of hams, and they were still inflating, massing in size as they walked, a spiraling of spidersilk-fine ink threads bloomed over them, only to be filled in with a few years worth of tats. His arms looked equally impressive and he was one of the most muscled men in the room. As he was standing behind Lynn, staring as his hair receded within a few seconds and male pattern baldness reached up over the man’s head in fast forward, his now-wide alpha male back moved up incrementally, and impossibly he heard the man growing, and watched from just a few inches away as Lynn grew taller than himself until Ben was staring at his lower back. The new Lynn could see over most people’s heads now at a fine height of 6’4”. “Lynn. Hey, Lynn?” He felt his own voice strangle in his throat. It wasn’t his voice. It was someone else’s. A much older man’s voice coming out of his twentysomething frame. Lynn turned around. He looked to be around 35 to 40 now. “How many times I gotta tell ya? Don’t call me that. Everyone just calls me Pops,” Lynn-now-Pops said, clapping him on the shoulder with his meaty fist and grinning. He was completely bald now and his face coated with fine graphite colored stubble. The flat silvery necklace was lifted up by his enormous pectorals. Erik, dressed in his Aladdin turban and vest looked different as well. His long ratty hair had turned jet black, neatly coifed and shortened into a slick, neat hairstyle in an instant. It happened quickly, as quick as someone sneezing, In literally a flash in front of Ben’s eyes. Ben, not Benjamin he thought. Erik’s skin had turned a lighter color of caramel and he wore a light goatee now, and he no longer had a gut. The former balloon of fat had melted away and now only a little flab could be seen. His arms took on more muscle in the dim light. Inside the dancehall was a lot of blue light, dry ice fog, a fully stocked bar and humidors lay on glossy black tabled with refined restaurant booths lining the sides of the walls. In the fog, Ben saw Erik’s muscles twist and change and the next time he saw Erik after swirling fog let him do so, he had to look up again, at a mountain of a Turkish bodybuilder, olive skinned and fully bearded. The new Erik had to be 6’7” at least. His arms were the size of casaba melons drying in the hot Turkish sun. A few women exotic dancers writhed around on the stage around some poles, which elicited a few “Yeahs!” from the group that had just entered, but not many. Lynn the Bouncer was growing a beard in front of everyone, and as it took over his face and jutted out, it became instantly black, then streaked with gray. He rubbed his bald head and flexed his enormous melon arms and regarded the girls on stage with boredom. There was a chill in the air. Music started to thump and the group found themselves swaying to it…and Joe Street watched in ecstasy as they began to slowly morph before his eyes. In the corner of his eye he spotted an old man who had been moving silently among the servants all night, dressed in a very old 19th century cut of suit, with light forest green vest and maroon suit jacket and cravat. He didn't smile, merely just lifted his head with its lofty amounts of longish gray hair on his long, withered face, and Joe could see the eyes were almost hollow, and glinted with an orange flame where the pupils should be...