A young man and his homophobic brother and father are changed forever when they encounter a mysterious board game from his grandfather’s collection.

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The lights flickered and the cupboards rattled as a loud peal of thunder shook through the house. The storm was only getting worse.

The rain beat against the window as Ian shut the blinds and turned away. Just in time for another flash of lightning that shone through the slats.


Ian winced.

He glanced toward the living room and saw the TV feed had dissolved into static. He wouldn’t have cared, normally, but it was game day. And his father and brother had been watching.

Brad, the older of the two muscleheads reclining on the couch, smacked the coffee table with his palm and unleashed a string of colorful expletives.

Troy, Ian’s older brother, looked no less peeved.

This was bad. This was really bad.

The game had been the only thing keeping the duo’s attention off Ian. Not only was it gone. They were irate, too.

Ian could only hope they’d not notice him sneaking off to his room. But there wasn’t much of a chance of that considering how tiny the cabin was.

"Hey, cock-breath!" Trey thundered from the couch, "You’re into that computer shit, aren’t you? Fix the fucking TV!"

Too late.

Ian sighed. He hadn’t even wanted to come along. But his mother had insisted on taking everyone out to the family lake house for some bonding time.

Pretty typical she was off at his aunt’s place right next door instead of spending some time with the three of them, though. Family bonding time his ass. She’d probably just been looking for an excuse to pawn his dad and brother off on him for the weekend.

He bitterly regretted going along with it.

"Just because I write software doesn’t mean I know how to fix a TV!" Ian snapped back.

"Don’t you talk to your older brother like that!"

Ian fumed. "He’s the one being homophobic!"

Brad scoffed as he repeatedly changed channels in a vain attempt to get one that was working. "He’s just teasing you. Stop being such a fucking snowflake."

Ian gritted his teeth. Of course. He shouldn’t have been surprised. "Alright. Fine," he said, testily. "Still, it’s probably out because of the storm. And there’s no way I’m going out in all of that to check the satellite dish."

Brad said nothing. He just slowly set the remote down on the table. "Seriously?" he said.

Great. Here it comes, Ian thought to himself. The manipulative, thinly-veiled homophobic bullshit.

"Do you know how many queers get kicked into the street when they come out? I let your ass live under my roof when I could have kicked you out and you can’t even do this little thing?"

And there it was. Luckily, before anyone could say anything else, the lights flickered one last time, and died.

"Well, fuck. What are we supposed to do now?" Trey complained.

Ian pulled his phone out of his pocket and used it as a flashlight. He shone it in the direction of the bedrooms. "I’m just gonna go to sleep."

Brad got up, smacking his hands on his knees as he did. "No, you’re not. Go get one of your grandpa’s board games. You might as well entertain us if you’re not going to be useful."

Ian sighed. Of course. "Fine," he said. He just wasn’t going to fight it. He wouldn’t hear the end of it, otherwise.

Brad was rummaging around in a nearby cupboard for an emergency lamp when Ian made his way over to the dusty study.

Grandpa’s board game collection was exactly where it had always been: gathering dust on the bottom of a bookshelf.

There were familiar ones. Settlers of Catan. Carcassonne. Monopoly. Ian visibly shuddered at the thought of playing that one with Trey and his father.

There were unfamiliar ones, too. Quite a few. His grandpa had been an avid collector of eccentric titles. None of them caught Ian’s eye, though. None of them but for one called "Karma" that came in a beautiful ebony wood-paneled box with gold and silver inlay.

Ian had never heard of the game before but, for some inexplicable reason, he was just drawn to it. He brushed his index finger over the logo of what he assumed was the publisher—a small pink butterfly flying around a larger purple one—and decided this was the one he’d bring out to play.

When Ian got back to the living room, Brad had cleared the coffee table and put up a couple of emergency lamps so they’d have a decent place to play.

Brad had dragged the recliner over to the coffee table while Trey was laid out across the couch. "Hey," said Ian, nudging the side of the couch with his knee, "Could you give me some space? Please?"

"Just sit on the floor. There’s a rug, anyway," Brad barked.

Ian sighed. He didn’t know what he expected. He didn’t protest and just did as he was told, sitting on the ground across the coffee table from the couch.

He gently placed the box onto the tabletop. There was a small golden latch on the side facing him that he popped with considerable effort. It must have been tight from underuse, he supposed.

Ian jumped once he finally got the box to unlatch. The lid had popped open a bit.

Trey rolled onto his side, propping his elbow against the couch cushions and resting his head on his fist. He reached across and slapped a hand on the top of the box, turning it around to face him so he could read the label off the top. "Karma? What the fuck is that? Leave it to you to find some lame-ass shit," Trey complained.

"I don’t know. I just thought it might be fun since it came in a nice box," said Ian, pointedly ignoring the jab.

Trey looked at Brad but the latter just shrugged. "The rest of the shit in there was boring anyway. Just go with it. If we don’t like it, we could probably sell it for a good price anyway."

"Ugh." Trey sat up with a grunt and grabbed the box out of Ian’s hands. He spun it around to face him and flipped the lid and jumped back as a mechanism unfolded from inside.

As old as the game probably was, judging by the thick layer of dust Ian had had to wipe off the box, the mechanism inside moved smoothly as it assembled the game all on its own.

Two wood panels swung up from inside the box, forming the two halves of the board when they came together. It was a fairly simple thing featuring two circular tracks that went around the board, a larger white one on the outside and a smaller black one on the inside.

In the middle of the board was a circular cut-out. Ian tried to peer inside but was quickly thwarted when another piece of the board came up to fill the space. It had a single rectangular recess in the middle to accommodate a deck of cards.

Each slip of cardboard seemed to be of exquisite quality. The card backs were glossy, sleek, and ink-black with Celtic scrollwork cast in gold ink forming an inset border.

Around the deck was a set of smaller circular recesses in the wood. Each one was roughly the diameter of a quarter. All were empty but for three that held silver figurines Ian could only assume were the game pieces.

He had to take a double-take when he saw the figurines. The one closest to him, in particular, caught his eye. Because it was him.

It might not have caught the sandy blond of his mussed-up hair or the pale blue of his eyes, but it did manage to capture his boyish looks, the soft set of his jaw, the faint crookedness of his nose from when a bully broke it in middle school, and even the way his clothes draped across his narrow shoulders and lanky body.

Ian’s eyes widened as he looked at the other figurines. They captured his father and brother perfectly in the lustrous silver.

Trey’s figurine looked like the stereotypical jock. Messy hair. Tight shirt. Tight shorts. Toned and muscular but not too much as evidenced by a tight ass that was completely wasted on a straight man.

It was then Ian realized the figurines were accurate right down to the clothes they were wearing. He hadn’t noticed since he was dressed pretty plainly and the silver didn’t capture colors at all but Trey’s figurine was wearing exactly what Trey was wearing, too.

Brad’s figurine was no less true-to-life. Ian’s father was a beast of a man and his figurine was no different. He was wearing a tank top that showed off his bulging biceps and rock-hard abs, with a set of gym shorts that struggled to contain his massive thighs.

The silver was even textured in such a way that Brad’s body hair was visible.

Ian was the only one who seemed to notice, though. Brad and Trey were too busy talking about how much they could get for the game to realize. "Guys," he said.

They ignored him. "Hey! You should—"

He nearly wilted under the glare Brad shot his way. "Your brother and I are talking. Don’t be rude."

Ian grumbled under his breath but Brad and Trey were off in their own little world again so no one paid him any attention.

Well, then, he thought to himself. Nothing he could do if they were just going to ignore him.

The figurines were a big deal. Because there was no way the game could have come with figurines that looked exactly like the three of them did.

It stank of magic. And if there was one thing Ian had always thought was true, it was that magic didn’t exist. And yet…

He glanced at the deck of cards. The top card had the words "Read Me" written on it. Quaint. Reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland. Mildly terrifying, if he had to be honest.

He reached out to touch it but Trey swatted his hand away before he could. "Careful!" he said. "You might damage it!"

Ian couldn’t help but bristle at the implication. As if he would be careless enough to damage a board game like this one.

"Mind if I start, pops?" said Trey, placing a finger on top of the card in question.

Brad shrugged.

"Great." Trey drew the card and made a face as soon as he read it. "Rules. Gross. Boring shit. How do we play? Okay. Draw a card on your turn. Read it out. Do what it says."

"Ugh. Boring," said Brad.

Trey sighed. "Yeah… Oh well. The sucker we sell it to doesn’t need to know that." He snickered.

Ian’s eye twitched. He fidgeted in his seat. "Could you please read the rules properly?"

Trey rolled his eyes. "No. Anyway. Boring. Boring. How the fuck do I win? Oh. Here we go. The first player to go around either the black track or the white track wins."

"At least it’s straightforward," said Brad, leaning forward and plucking his figurine from its recess. "Hey, look, this one looks like me."

"Oh shit, it does, pops!" Trey laughed. He grabbed his. "Mine looks like me, too!"

Trey sneered as he glanced at Ian’s piece and said, "I don’t know why yours is the only one that’s wrong, bro. Shouldn’t it be a pile of crap instead?"

Brad laughed uproariously and clapped a hand on Trey’s shoulder. "Get on with the rules," he said, shaking his head as he chuckled.

Ian bore the insults silently. It wasn’t worth it to engage. They were just words, anyway.

Trey smirked at Ian. "Alright. It says here: ‘Before you start, as a group, choose which players go on the longer white track and which players go on the shorter black track.’"

Ian’s heart sank.

Brad chuckled. "I think the runt should go on the white track. He’s always acting like he’s so much better than everyone else, isn’t he? I’m sure he can manage."

Ian tried to bite his tongue. "Hang on! That’s not fair!"

"Sorry, bro," said Trey. "Game says decide as a group and it’s two against one." He plucked Ian’s figurine from its place and set it on the starting square of the white track.

Ian sighed. He didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides… Now that he had a moment to really think about it, was it truly so bad that he was on the longer track?

The game was called "Karma" for a reason. It had to be. And if his suspicions were right, Trey and his father were just fucking themselves by being dicks.

Trey placed his piece on the black circuit’s starting position and glanced at the card. "The person holding this card goes first. Play proceeds to the right."

Great, Ian thought to himself, as Trey set the rules card aside. He was last. He had no idea what the game was like but if it was adversarial in any way, he was going to get forced into playing reactively.

"Here we go," said Trey, drawing his first card. "Icebreaker. It’s better to play without hang-ups. All players lose their sexual inhibitions. Move 3 spaces forward."

As soon as Trey finished reading the card out, a ripple of cool energy seemed to emanate from the board. Ian shivered as it washed over him but neither his father nor Trey seemed to be aware of it.

"What the hell was that supposed to mean?" said Brad, slipping a hand down the front of his shorts.

It should have disgusted Ian. He didn’t want to see his father doing that. And then it hit him. Inhibitions. Magic.

Trey shrugged and moved his piece the two spaces the card had told him to. "Dunno. Guess it was a freebie," he said. "Oh, and there’s more. Optional effect. Target player loses his pants. Move three spaces forward."

Ian gulped audibly.

"Lose ’em, nerd!" Trey guffawed. "Who would ever pass that up?"

Brad laughed. "I know, right."

Ian’s pants disappeared right off his body with a jolt. He stared wide-eyed at his bare legs, having no idea where his pants might have gone. The odd thing was, he felt no desire to cover up, whatsoever.

"My turn, I guess," said Brad. He grunted as he leaned over and pulled his card. "Hard times, fun times. It’s always fun when everyone’s hard. All players become increasingly aroused as the game progresses. Move six steps forward."

Ian’s cheeks flushed as his cock hardened, tenting out the front of his briefs. Part of him felt as if he shouldn’t be horny here but his cock was the perfect distraction.

"Fuck, pops," Trey laughed as he draped an arm across the back of the sofa. "That a gun in your shorts?"

Brad was palming his thick erection, seemingly without a care in the world. "You should show more respect to the thing that brought you into this world," he laughed.

"Oh and the card says I can move another four spaces if someone plays the rest of the game standing up and naked so… Get to it, runt."

Ian’s cheeks flushed even redder as he clambered up to his feet. The magic made his clothes disappear right off his shoulders.

Even without his inhibitions, it was still pretty humiliating to be the only guy naked and exposed. In front of his brother and father, no less.

The worst part of it was how turned on he was. He was so hard his cock was bobbing between his legs. And he was leaking, too. "M-my turn, I guess?"

Neither Trey nor Brad seemed interested, though. "Look, pops. Look how hard his little faggot cock is!"

"Disgusting," Brad sneered. "Are you getting off on this, you little pervert?"

"I-I’m not!" Ian lied. The shame went right to his cock, making him leak. "It’s the stupid fucking game, alright?"

He looked at his card and read it out. "Charity. You poor thing. Move one space forward."

Trey burst out into guffawing laughter. "Serves your condescending ass right!"

Ian sighed and moved his piece as instructed. "Optional effect: target player other than yourself becomes incredibly wealthy. They move five spaces forward."

Brad leaned forward. When he spoke, his voice was low and menacing. "You better use that, runt," he said.

Ian had already planned to, anyway. The first round had all but confirmed his suspicions about the game. As long as he kept his head down, played unselfishly, and resisted whatever temptations the cards might throw his way, he was bound to come out on top.

The choice for the optional effect was obvious, though: anyone but Trey. Brad was an asshole but in a more traditional, macho sort of way. Trey was just insufferable. Money was unlikely to improve that.

Ian leaned over and picked up Brad’s piece, moving it the five spaces the card had asked for. Once the figurine landed in its final position, Brad’s appearance shimmered.

Nothing about Brad’s physique changed, but his clothes did. He was wearing a nice suit—designer, by the look of it—and seemed to be more kempt than was typical.

He had a tumbler of whisky in one hand and a cigar in the other. He took a sip, smacked his lips, and sighed. "Fuck yeah. That hits the spot," he purred, in a low, gravelly voice that sent a shiver down Ian’s spine.

"Next time you get something good like that you better use it on me, bro," said Trey, glancing over at Brad as he plucked his card from the deck.

"Size Matters. Bigger guys get all the love. Move 5 spaces. You get a 12-inch cock." Trey’s eyes widened after he read the card out loud. "Fuck, yeah!"

Trey stood up and stepped out of his shorts. He grabbed his cock by the base and bent down to move his piece. When he’d finished, he watched his cock swell to its new size. His balls dropped, getting bigger and heftier to match.

Ian couldn’t help but look. The game had given his brother such a pretty cock, too. It was unfair.

"Look, pops. The faggot’s drooling over my meat," Trey laughed.

Brad chuckled. "It’s not like he can help it. Stop looking at your brother’s cock, pervert."

"It’s okay, pops. This is probably the closest he’s been to a real man’s cock. I mean, just look at that twig."

As if on cue, Ian’s cock jumped at the comment. A glob of clear pre-cum dribbled from him, dangling by a single glistening strand from the tip of his cock.

Trey smirked at Ian. "And it’s about to get a whole lot smaller. Optional effect: target player loses the difference in inches from his own endowment. Move 5 spaces forward."

Ian didn’t even have to guess whose cock was going to be shrinking as soon as Trey set his piece down five spaces ahead of where it used to be. He could feel the heft of his cock decreasing, his balls pulling up tight against his body as the magic left him with a two-incher and a pair of peanuts.

"Oh yeah," Trey laughed. "That’s more like it. That cock was wasted on a faggot, anyway." He leaned over and flicked the head of Ian’s shrunken endowment, teasing another bead of pre-cum from the tip.

"Alright. My turn." Brad set down his whisky and reached over to draw his card. "Bigger is Better. The only thing women like more than deep pockets is hard muscle. You gain a perfect bodybuilder physique. Move 5 spaces forward."

The grin that split Brad’s face was almost feral. His clothes strained across his chest as his body swelled. Two buttons on his dress shirt burst, pelting Ian.

The seams of Brad’s suit stretched and tore. His legs exploded out of his pants, his feet out of his shoes.

He grabbed the sleeves of his suit and tore them off. Then, he pulled his dress shirt and jacket apart.

Ian couldn’t help but stare as the fabric was reduced to shreds. His father was an asshole but there was no denying he was an attractive man.

Brad beat his fists against his hairy chest. Each one landed with a meaty thump against the firm muscle. It was such a display of raw, primal masculinity Ian’s cock responded with a weak dribble of pre.

Ian watched as Brad grabbed fistfuls of his dress pants. They ripped loudly as he pulled them off, taking his underwear with them in the process.

"Oh yeah. That’s much better. Anyway. Optional effect: Mass is neither created nor destroyed. Target player loses mass equal to the difference between your current body and your old body. That player moves one space back. You move 5 spaces forward."

Of course. Ian felt himself shrink. He was already a lanky guy so when the magic took what little meat it could from his body, it stole his height instead.

By the time the magic finished, Ian barely came up to Trey’s chest. He’d been the shortest of the three of them to start with but now it was even more obvious.

Brad laughed. "Now, you look like a proper runt, runt."

Ian’s cock—not that the magic had left him with much of one—twitched and leaked as he tried to ignore the jab.

He took his turn. "Chance for Retribution. You’ve been wronged and here’s your opportunity to hit back. Move one step forward. Optional effect: Steal one of target player’s bonuses and swap it for one of your penalties. Move 15 spaces forward."

Ian’s eyes widened. He looked at Brad. He looked at Trey. Their arrogant self-confidence seemed, at the very least, a bit shaken.

"Don’t get any stupid ideas, faggot," Trey hissed.

Brad nodded. The brief fear that had crossed his face was gone. He fixed Ian with a level glare and sipped from his tumbler of whisky. "You don’t want to take that chance."

Ian shivered. "I wasn’t going to, anyway," he said, moving his piece one space forward before setting the card down.

It was difficult not to take the opportunity. But that was exactly why he had to resist the temptation.

The wording of the optional effect, especially, made him wary. The card talked about stealing bonuses and that just felt wrong to him.

"Finally. My turn," said Trey. He licked his lips as he leaned over the table, bracing one hand against the edge. He plucked a card from the deck, his cock twitching.

Trey wrapped his fingers around the base of his length, idly stroking himself as he read the contents of the card out loud. "Masculine Perfection. Bitches just love a good body. Your physique changes to reflect the ideal male form; you can stand naked in a gallery and fit right in with the statues. Move ten spaces forward."

"Oh fuck, yeah," Trey growled. His body changed with every space he moved his figure. His biceps swelled. His stomach flattened. Every last line and crevice of his musculature popped out in sharp relief.

By the time he’d finished moving the ten spaces, Trey had the body of a perfect jock—not too big and perfectly defined everywhere. He stroked himself faster, pre-cum dribbling from his foot-long monster cock as he flexed and posed in a way that made Ian swallow audibly.

"Enjoying the show, faggot?" Trey sneered.

Ian flushed.

"Look all you want because your sorry ass is never gonna look this good. You’re never gonna look like a real man."

Humiliating as it was, the insults made Ian’s cock jump. Fuck. It was impossible not to notice.

Thankfully, Trey said nothing about it. He just laughed derisively before turning to Brad and saying, "What do you think pops?"

"Mmm. Looking good, son," said Brad, grinning broadly as he stroked his cock.

Trey grinned. "Oh, right. I almost forgot! Optional effect: target player moves one space back and becomes so uncontrollably aroused in your presence he’ll do anything for the privilege of playing with your body. Move five spaces forward."

Before Trey had even finished speaking, Ian already felt it. His mouth ran dry. His fingers itched. The little cocklet the magic had given him quivered and leaked as a deep-seated desire to run his hands all over Trey’s body took over him.

"P-please, Trey," he whined.

"Please, what?" said Trey, with an evil little smirk.

Ian hated himself for what he was about to say but it spilled from his lips before he could stop himself. "Please let me touch your body… I-I’ll do anything!"

"Come over here," said Trey, pointing at the floor next to him. "Crawl."

Ian’s body flushed with pleasure. A moan spilled out of him as he lowered himself to the ground. It was humiliating. Degrading. But he couldn’t help himself.

His ass swayed from side to side as he made his way over to Trey’s side of the table. "Beg for the privilege, faggot," said Trey. "Tell me how inferior and worthless you are and I might let you kiss my toes."

Ian panted. He chewed on his lower lip, trembling. He didn’t want to submit to this degradation but he couldn’t help it. He wanted Trey’s body. He needed it so badly.

"I’m a pathetic faggot, Trey," he moaned, lowering his head to the ground. "I’m a worthless little bitch. I’m nothing compared to real men like you. Please let me touch your body! Please!"

Trey laughed. "Look up at me, faggot."

Ian did as he was told. Trey was stroking his dick. From this close, it looked so much bigger. So much tastier. The only thing he could think of was how much he wanted to cram it down his throat.

"Go ahead, bitch. Make out with my foot while Pops takes his turn."

Brad chuckled. "Looks like you finally found a good use for the runt," he said, setting his whisky down and leaning forward to pull his card. "That said, I don’t like how close to the end you’re getting."

Trey grinned. "It’s all about skill, pops. Don’t be a sore loser."

Brad scoffed. "I never lose, son. You’ll see that soon enough." He looked at his card and laughed. "What did I tell you?"

Trey frowned.

"Fountain of Youth. The only thing better than being old, hot, and rich, is being young, hot, and rich. You age back to 25. Move ten spaces forward."

With every space Brad moved, the years seemed to slough right off him. He’d been pushing 60 when he started. By the time he brought his piece to a rest, he was back to his 25-year-old prime.

"Oh fuck, that feels so much better," said Brad.

Ian looked up from Trey’s foot and gawked. He’d seen pictures of his father’s younger years but seeing it in person like this was another thing entirely. He was so hot it was unfair.

Brad’s graying hair had regained its golden luster and the lines of his face had smoothed out into a fair, almost-glowing complexion. His eyes were bright and sharp, blue as the sky. And the cut of his jaw was just perfect.

If Ian had seen his father on the cover of a male modeling magazine, he wouldn’t have batted an eye. If anything, Brad belonged on the cover of a male modeling magazine.

Brad looked down at his body and groans. He was clearly enjoying his renewed youth. "Optional effect: Target player ages by the number of years you lost. Move five spaces forward."

Ian groaned as he felt his body creak. His hair turned gray. Lines appeared across his face. Every joint ached as his skin became loose and wrinkly.

Despite that, he just gritted his teeth through the pain. He made out with Trey’s foot as if his life depended on it. He sucked and nibbled on it, lovingly kissing every toe and cleaning the spaces between them with his tongue.

He kept it up until Trey reached down and yanked him up by the hair. "Take your turn, faggot. We’re almost to the end of the game. I want to win!"

Ian looked over at the board. Both Trey and Brad were on the cusp of winning. They were only five spaces away from the goal. His piece, on the other hand, was still on the starting square.

A whimper spilled out of his lips as he reached over to grab a card. If the game was going to come through for him, it had to do it now. Because if Trey or Brad got to take another turn, then it would be over.

He turned the card over and read it out. His voice came out weak and raspy but he fought through it. "Reversal." A smile tugged at his lips. "You’ve endured much, and it’s time things broke your way. If your piece is on the white track and still on the starting space, you win the game. All your penalties are reversed and you gain control over the fate of any players on the black track."

"Now, wait a second," Trey protested. "Ah, fuck!"

Ian clutched Trey’s leg for support as he pulled himself up to his feet. Trey tried to pry his fingers off but didn’t manage to make them budge even a bit.

As he rose to his full height, Ian couldn’t help but groan. His body was filling out again. He was getting younger. Before long, he was back to his old self, but he was still growing.

His cock throbbed as it grew longer and thicker. His balls dropped, hefty and full. Pre-cum leaked from him in a steady stream, dripping down the underside of his cock and over his now-pendulous nuts.

His muscles swelled. Strength flooded into his limbs. He stood taller and straighter, his body thicker, denser, and broader than ever before. He was the perfect specimen of masculinity, now. And he towered over both Trey and his father.

Ian smirked. "Now. What to do about the two of you."

Trey looked up at Ian with wide, terrified eyes. "Oh, hell no," he said. He lunged toward the game board but it folded up and disappeared into the box before his hands could find purchase.

The lid swung mostly shut and Ian reached over to press it the rest of the way. The latch clicked shut all on its own and refused to budge even when Trey tried to pry it open with all his strength.

Ian grabbed Trey by the shoulder. With but a shove he managed to toss his older brother onto the couch. "Stay there," he said, his voice deep, rich, and commanding in a way it had never been, before.

"As for you," he continued, a wolfish grin playing on his lips as he rounded on Brad. "I think I’ll be taking your wealth, first of all."

The tumbler of whisky vanished from Brad’s hands and his whole appearance became a bit more unkempt and messy. The inverse was true for Ian. As the wealth shifted over to him, he became better-groomed and more… regal, even, in his bearing.

Ian leaned in and patted the side of Brad’s face. "And you can have back some of the years you gave me." Not too many, though. He didn’t want to have to deal with a 25-year old. But he could do with a hot silver fox daddy in his life.

"Oh yeah. That’s more like it," Ian chuckled, as the luscious locks of golden blond hair on his father’s head slowly turned white. He kept back all the negatives of age, this time, allowing Brad to age gracefully into a sizzling hot daddy.

"Get your filthy hands off me, you pervert!" Brad hissed.

Ian smirked. He was in control. He was above insults. His eyes glowed briefly as he looked into Brad’s gaze. "Aww. Don’t be like that, daddy," he said. "You and I both know that deep down you’re a devoted parent and daddy who would do anything for his son, right?"

Brad’s irises glowed in response. He seemed to struggle, for a moment, his eyebrows knotting together in a frown as he reached up and clutched his temples.

After a minute or so, though, a small smile tugged at the corners of Brad’s mouth. He gazed up at Ian, a worshipful look in his eyes. "Of course, baby," he said, reaching up and sliding his hands down Ian’s sides. "You know daddy would do anything for you."

Ian chuckled. "I know, daddy. I appreciate it."

"I’ll always take care of you, baby." Brad’s words were soft and sincere. He meant every last one.

Hearing that kind of affection from his father was profound. It made Ian feel warm inside. And it brought a tear to his eyes.

It helped heal his heart but it did nothing to blunt the edge of the years of abuse he’d had to endure. And he’d put up with it enough. Now was his time to get his back. Now was his time to reap the karma he’d sown.

Ian turned around and was surprised when Brad’s hands clapped on his ass cheeks. He couldn’t help but laugh. "Damn, daddy. You’re so eager. Go on, then. Give your favorite son a kiss."

Brad licked his lips as he pried Ian’s cheeks apart to reveal the smooth pink hole winking between them. He leaned in, the silver stubble on his chin eliciting a low groan from Ian as it rubbed over his sensitive skin.

It wasn’t long before the air filled with the lewd wet sounds of Brad slurping and tonguing at Ian’s hole with unreserved enthusiasm.

"Fuck, daddy," Ian groaned. "That feels so good."

And indeed, it did. Brad was surprisingly good with his tongue. Just the way he wriggled it around inside Ian’s ass was sublime.

As he savored the scratchy stubble rubbing against the cleft of his ass cheeks, Ian turned his attention to his brother. He had a bone to pick with Trey and this was his chance for a bit of payback.

Ian grinned at the way Trey’s face paled. His father had been the passive, traditionalist kind of homophobic. Trey, on the other hand, seemed to actively hate him for being gay.

"It’s alright, bro," he said. "There’s no reason to be afraid. I forgive you."

Trey sat up. "Y-you do?" There was a glint of hope in his eyes.

"Of course." Ian bared his teeth. "I know it’s because you’ve struggled with your sexuality your whole life. You’re such a massive closet case."

The way the hope in Trey’s eyes died away was priceless. "No! That’s not true!"

Ian laughed. "Yes, it is! You know it! I know it! Everyone knows it! No matter how hard you pretend, the truth is that you’re such a massive asshole because you’re so scared of coming out of the closet!"

Trey groaned, clutching his temples as Ian’s words slowly took root in his head and changed him from the inside. "N-No. That’s not true!" he grunted, fighting the reality-shifting words with all his willpower.

It was all in vain, of course. The game had given Ian total control over Trey and his father. "Just give in, bro," Ian taunted. "It’ll be so much easier if you just let me think for you."

After a minute or so of futile struggling, Ian saw Trey’s shoulders sag. He’d given in. Perfect.

"I told you, bro. I’m not gay!" said Trey. His eyes said otherwise. They wandered up and down Ian’s body, hungrily drinking in every inch of his perfectly masculine physique.

"Right." Ian rolled his eyes and laughed. "And the fact that you’re ogling my body while hard as a fucking rock are totally unrelated, right?"

"A-A bro can appreciate another bro’s body!" Trey protested. "There’s nothing gay about that! I was just thinking about how good Jessica might look pinned under me if I had a body like that!"

Trey draped his arms over the back of the couch in a false show of bravado. He even spread his legs, showing off his foot-long cock for Ian. "Fuck, bro. You don’t even know how straight I am. I’m thinking of Jessica right now, man."

Ian laughed. It was so pathetic it was funny. "Oh yeah?" he said.

"Y-yeah! Of course!"

"What are you thinking about, then?"

Trey gulped.

"Hey, bro. Eyes are up here."

Trey’s gaze snapped up to meet Ian’s. He’d been staring at Ian’s crotch area, eyes following the way Ian’s cock bobbed with every thrust of Brad’s talented tongue.

The way Trey’s cheeks turned bright pink was almost adorable. "J-Jessica’s tits, of course! They’re so… So big! A-and juicy! And bro her pussy… I-it’s like nothing else! So smooth and always so fucking wet… A-and tight for me! God. I can’t get enough of it. I’m so fucking straight. You don’t even know!"

Ian chuckled. "Come here, ‘bro.’ Feel free to take a closer look."

Trey hesitated for a moment. The look on his face was delicious. He got up from his seat slowly. Reluctantly. But he approached Ian, anyway.

"Holy…" Trey muttered under his breath as he got closer. His eyes were riveted to the thick piece of meat bobbing between Ian’s legs. He even licked his lips, seemingly having forgotten that Ian was watching him.

Ian was happy to let his brother continue without saying anything. He was living for the turmoil evident on Trey’s face.

He watched silently as Trey started to reach for his cock. It was only when Trey’s outstretched fingers had almost grazed his meat when he cleared his throat.

Trey snatched his hand back and looked at Ian in wide-eyed startlement. He laughed nervously. "Haha… A-almost got you, bro…" he said. "Y-you didn’t really think I was gonna, you know… T-touch your cock, right?"

Ian said nothing. Since Trey was close enough to touch, he just placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed down. He was met with a token resistance but Trey slowly sank to his knees soon after.

Trey laughed, probably trying to distract from the way his eyes remained firmly locked on Ian’s cock the whole way down. "Woah, bro. W-when did you get so strong?" he chuckled.

Ian just smiled. He transferred the penalty Trey had given him earlier, the one that made him so horny he would do anything to play with Trey’s body.

Trey’s pupils dilated. His cheeks flushed. His breathing became shallow and rapid, his ample cock straining between his legs.

And Trey was salivating, too. His mouth was watering so much he had to reach up and wipe a trickle of drool from the corner of his lips.

Ian remembered what it felt like to be under that particular penalty. He could imagine that, right about now, Trey was ready to do just about anything to play with his cock—no matter how degenerate or humiliating it might be.

It was going to be interesting to see how that intense, inescapable desire would interact with the new identity Ian had given Trey. It was bound to be hilarious, either way Ian looked at it.

Trey gulped audibly. "Haha…" he said, shifting forward on his knees until he was kneeling in front of Ian. "Bro… W-wanna bet your cock isn’t big enough to make me choke?"

Ian scoffed. "Just suck it if you want to. No need to bullshit, bro."

A nervous laugh. "H-ha. F-fuck off. I told you, bro! I’m not g-gay! S-so… Uh… Wanna bet?"

Ian rolled his eyes. "Sure, bro," he said. "I bet I could make you choke on my fuckpole."

Trey licked his lips. "With a t-tiny thing like that, bro? N-not a chance."

"What’s in it for me, though?" Ian raised an eyebrow.

Trey looked up at Ian and blinked in confusion. "W-what do you mean?"

"It’s a bet, dumbass. You gotta put something on the line. Or did your cock-hungry ass already forget that because of how eager you are to suck me off?"

"R-right, um…"

Ian grinned. "How about, whoever wins gets to fuck the loser?"

Trey’s eyes widened. The image must have flashed through his head. He looked like he was fighting down a moan but his body couldn’t lie. His back was arching, pushing his ass out.

It looked like Trey was expecting to lose. The little slut. Ian would have laughed but he chose not to acknowledge it instead.

Trey stammered. "I-I dunno, bro, sounds kinda gay…"

"Fine, then. No bet."

"N-now, wait a second! Can’t we bet something else?"

Ian said nothing.

"A-alright, fine! Whoever wins can fuck the loser!" Trey tried to sound reluctant but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. "G-guess you’ll have to prepare yourself, bro."

"Yeah," Ian sneered. "We’ll see about that. Suck like your ass depends on it, bro. Because it does."

Ian tangled his fingers in Trey’s soft blond curls and tugged him toward his crotch. He didn’t even have to force himself past Trey’s lips. The little slut’s mouth was already wide open.

A low groan bubbled up out of Ian’s throat as the wet heat of Trey’s mouth wrapped around the head of his cock. It felt great. Even more so when he considered it was his homophobic brother, his lifelong tormentor, who was doing it.

He felt like justice had finally been served but he didn’t think it was enough. Not nearly enough.

Tightening his grip on Trey’s hair, Ian thrust his hips forward. His cock slid past Trey’s tongue and hit the back of the slut’s throat.

It was the moment of truth and Trey didn’t disappoint at all. He gagged. Instantly.

Ian pulled Trey off his cock and grinned. "I win, bro," he said.

"N-no way, man. Y-you gotta let me try again!"

Trey had scarcely finished talking when Ian pulled him back onto his cock. Predictably, Trey choked again. But Ian managed to get further in, this time.

"One more?" said Ian, pulling Trey off his dick with a grin.

Trey nodded and got exactly what he wanted. He choked on Ian’s meat. His watery eyes bulged. Snot trickled out of his nose. His cheeks were puffed out around Ian’s cock and he looked like a proper little whore.

Ian pulled out almost all the way. He let the head of his cock rest on Trey’s tongue for a moment before slamming it back in. This time, he didn’t even spare his brother the courtesy of asking.

He kept it up until Trey could take a full thrust of his cock without choking. By then, the eager little slut was well-destroyed.

Ian tugged Trey off his cock. Trey’s pretty blue eyes were glassy and unfocused. His mouth remained open, closing only slightly as drool trickled out of the corner of his lips. "Have your fun, slut?" Ian sneered.

Trey could only gulp and nod.

Ian chuckled. "Good. Because I’m ready to take my prize." He tugged up on Trey’s hair.

Trey winced at the force but he complied. He stood up.

"Turn around," said Ian.

Trey did as he was told. It didn’t even seem like he took a moment to think about it. What resistance he did show was half-hearted at best, a weak protest as he was shuffling around to put his back to Ian. "A-are you sure you wanna go through with this, bro? C-can’t I just pay you off? H-how’s 20 bucks?"

Ian chuckled. He swatted Trey’s ass and it swelled at his touch. "C’mon, bro, this fat ass is probably worth more than that."


Ian grabbed Trey by the hips and pulled. Trey stumbled backward into Ian.

Ian laughed. "Just 50?"

Trey gulped audibly as Ian’s rock-hard erection came to a rest in the cleft of his ass. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and back but Ian saw through it.

It was kind of cute, actually. A little wiggle of those thick, muscular ass cheeks to better position Ian’s monster in between them.

"O-ok, bro. 100."

Ian pulled back, pushing his ass onto Brad’s face before thrusting his cock up the valley between Trey’s ass cheeks. "C’mon, bro. This fat ass can probably swallow a pair of tighty-whities."

As soon as he finished speaking, Trey’s ass got even bigger. It was so big and so pretty. It would have looked perfect on a whore but on Trey’s thick, muscular body, it looked obscene.

And that was what made it great.


Ian laughed. "Nah," he said. "I think I want your ass more than I want money, bro. And let’s be honest here. What you really want is for me to split your fat ass open, isn’t it?"

Trey took a tremulous breath. He laughed nervously. "Haha… You’re kidding, right, bro? You know I’m straight, right? T-this is just because of the bet!"

Ian smirked. "That so?"

"Y-yeah, bro! I-I’m totally straight! I-I love sticking my cock in pussy!"

Ian laughed. He let go of Trey’s hips with one hand and pulled back so he could grab his cock and tap it against Trey’s pucker. "Yeah? Why’s your cunt so goddamn wet, then?"

As soon as Ian had said it, there was a quiet grumbling sound. Trey groaned as he bent over, clutching his stomach.

A thick, slippery liquid leaked out of Trey’s hole. It trickled down his legs as a high-pitched moan spilled from his lips. He clenched hard, his entrance winking shut in a vain attempt to stem the flow.

It was the wrong move.

Shortly thereafter, the dam broke. A lewd, wet, squelching sound filled the air as bubbled out of Trey’s ass.

It was loud and embarrassing as Trey’s insides evacuated themselves. Nothing dirty, of course. Just slick.

Ian laughed. He dipped the tip of his cock into the mess, loving the silky sensation of the natural lubricant on his flesh.

He tapped the head of his cock on Trey’s pucker and said, "And I mean… You’re opening right up for me. It’s almost like your ass wants to swallow my cock just as much as your mouth does."

Trey groaned again. The hole he’d been futilely trying to keep closed earlier opened right up.

Ian didn’t even need to apply any pressure. The head of his cock slipped into Trey with ease. And since there wasn’t any resistance whatsoever, he was able to sink hilt-deep with a quick little tug.

Ian laughed. "Fuck, bro." He pulled out but left the head in. He held Trey there for a moment before he snapped his hips forward, cramming his thick cock as far up Trey’s ass-pussy as he could. "I love how loose your little whore cunt is."

The only thing that Trey could do was let out a delirious moan.

"You sound like one, too," Ian sneered.

He moved one hand up from Trey’s waist, tangling his fingers in his brother’s soft golden curls. He yanked hard, pulling Trey’s head back, forcing the bitch to arch his spine and push his ass out.

Ian grinned. He moved his other hand onto the front of the jock’s body. He slid his fingers down Trey’s flat stomach and chuckled. He didn’t even have to thrust his hips. The little slut was fucking himself on his cock well enough.

Ian brought his fingers lower. He wrapped them loosely around the base of Trey’s cock, giving it a few tugs before letting him go and cupping his balls instead.

"I feel like your slutty little pussy is a bit too loose for me, though," he said, murmuring the words right into Trey’s ear as he ground his hips against his ass.

Ian squeezed Trey’s balls, eliciting a quiet gasp. "You don’t mind if I take some of your meat to make it tighter, do you?"

Trey shook his head.

Ian grinned and nipped at the lobe of Trey’s ear. "Good little bitch." Just like that, Trey’s cock and balls began to shrink in his grip. It kept getting smaller and smaller until there was nothing left but a smooth mound.

At the same time, Ian’s cock swelled. He got so big even Trey’s loose hole had to stretch around his girth. And when he moved his fingers up from the nullified mound he’d left on his brother, he could feel the bulge the head of his cock formed on Trey’s stomach whenever he thrust his hips forward.

"And what was that you said about titties?" said Ian.

He bit Trey’s shoulder when he didn’t reply fast enough. "Answer me."

"I-I said I love titties, bro," Trey groaned. "Fuck. You’re rearranging my guts!"

Ian let go of Trey’s hair. Trey fell forward almost immediately but Ian pulled him back up, both hands on his chest.

"So what if I am? That’s what slutty bitch whores like you want, isn’t it?" Ian growled.

"I-I told you, bro, I’m straight!"

Ian laughed. "Right. Right. And since you’re so straight you’d love a nice pair of titties, wouldn’t you?"

"Y-yeah, bro!" said Trey, moaning as he backed his ass onto Ian’s cock.

Ian smirked. "Then that’s exactly what you’re going to get." He cupped Trey’s chest in his hands and reveled in the sensation as the jock’s pecs inflated to fill his palms. They swelled, becoming pillowy and soft, perfect for squeezing and playing with.

"The perfect rack for the cheap whore," Ian murmured under his breath as squeezed his brother’s new set of tits. They were a joy to play with. He squeezed them. He kneaded them. He pressed them together.

He’d been holding back so far but he couldn’t any longer. He bit down on the base of Trey’s neck as he bucked his hips into Trey’s.

The air was filled with the lewd wet squelching sounds of his cock pistoning in and out of his brother’s destroyed ass-pussy. And there was so much slick, thick, viscous gobs of it squirted out past his beercan-cock with every thrust.

Letting go of one of Trey’s swollen pecs for a moment, Ian reached over his back and grabbed Brad by the hair. He yanked him off his asshole and barked, "Stand up, daddy!"

Ian shifted his legs apart and arched his back. "Breed me, daddy," he said. "Breed me while I break your other useless whore of a sun."

Brad grinned. He got up and kissed Ian on the shoulder as he placed his calloused hands on Ian’s hips and said, "Of course, baby. Whatever you want. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you."

Ian groaned as Brad lined up with him and pushed inside. He relished the stretch and gave Brad a few more inches in girth when it wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

Once Brad was firmly seated, Ian resumed his thrusting. The change in position had shifted his angle just enough that his cock was hitting Trey’s prostate with every inward stroke.

Ian fucked his brother with abandon. He went fast. Hard. As hard as he could and even harder when he felt it wasn’t driving Trey crazy enough.

He didn’t care. The bitch could take it. He’d made sure of that.

In and out. In and out. Harder and faster with every thrust, the air filling with the loud wet slapping sounds of his hips ramming into Trey’s.

With a loud, guttural grunt, he said, "Oh yeah. Take my cock, you little slut. Take my fucking cock in that loose whore cunt."

The pressure built and built and built, especially once Brad started thrusting to match Ian’s cadence. Ian hit the edge. After a heartbeat, he spilled over.

With a roar, Ian slammed his cock as deep as it could go into Trey and came. Shot after shot of searing-hot cum blasted out of his churning balls and into his brother’s fuckhole.

Ian came hard and he came plenty. There was so much Trey’s stomach bulged out. And even when Trey was full, his orgasm kept going, squirting out past the jock slut’s broken hole.

By the time Ian’s orgasm ended two minutes later, Brad had also finished inside him. "Alright, daddy," he said, "clean up your mess."

"Of course, baby! Anything for you," said Brad. He pulled out of Ian, his cock followed by a brief gush of cum that trickled down the inside of Ian’s thighs.

Brad sat down and Ian groaned as he felt his father’s tongue on his hole again, slurping up the mess he’d made.

Ian shook his head and chuckled. He was still hard. Chances were the storm wouldn’t let out for a while yet. He could enjoy his just desserts for a bit. Though he did wonder how he was going to explain all of this to his mom.

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