Drew wasn’t a faggot.

Not that he had a problem with them when they kept to themselves. On some level, he understood where they were coming from. Spiritually, he was a fellow lover and connoisseur of the male form. Aesthetically, he could appreciate the beauty of a honed man, with his firm muscles and hard body.

Drew just didn’t lust after the male body as fags did. There was a line and he was happy to stay on the right side of it like a normal person, unlike the degenerates on the other side.

It was more than a matter of personal beliefs to Drew. Sure, his sincerely held Christianity had something to do with his perspective on the whole homosexuality thing, but it was his upbringing—more than anything—that informed his outlook. Being hot for other men just felt fundamentally wrong.

His appreciation for the male form stemmed from his father. The older Stockton had been a career man who still somehow found the time to be a single parent while also being a competitive bodybuilder.

Neil Stockton Jr. had been Drew’s inspiration growing up and even though he was older and long past the prime of his bodybuilding days, in many ways he was still Drew’s hero.

And he had always wanted to be more like his father. It was why he was obsessed with fitness, why he was happy to admire men that took care of their bodies. He wanted to emulate their success, to live up to his dad’s legacy.

For as long as Drew could remember, it had always been him and his dad. His mother had either left them when he was too early to remember or had died during childbirth; his father had never given him a straight answer and he’d learned to stop asking when he was old enough to realize he was never going to get one.

There wasn’t anyone else he could ask, anyway. His dad’s extended family was mostly distant, except for a couple of cousins that liked him well enough. Anyone he’d asked either knew nothing or had no desire to say anything about the matter.

He hadn’t known any of his mother’s relatives, either. They all lived on the opposite side of the country. And from the few interactions he’d had with them, they seemed to want little, if anything, to do with him or his father.

Not that he’d ever particularly minded not knowing. His curiosity about his mother had always been more of the idle variety. He’d never felt the compelling, obsessive need for the truth that he knew some people got.

Maybe it was weird. He didn’t think so. He’d had his dad and that had always been enough for him.

Ironically enough, it was his closeness with his dad that made homos so disgusting to him. It was one thing to appreciate the male form and another entirely to lust after it.

It was fine for women to do. That was just normal. Men were supposed to try to look good to attract a mate, after all. It wasn’t normal for other men to find it attractive.

Maybe if the homos could control themselves, it wouldn’t be so bad. But Drew had never met a queer that had that sort of self-control.

Fags never looked at hot men respectfully. It was always gross and perverted. He could see it in their eyes, the way they looked at the perfectly normal straight men around them like pieces of meat.

It never failed to irk him. He always imagined they were looking at his dad like that. It was so creepy and disgusting.

The fact he’d been born straight was one reason he’d never cross the line to actually having the hots for another man’s body. But even if he had been born bi—or some other flavor of homo—he liked to think that he would have tried to fix himself. He just couldn’t stomach the idea.

It was disrespectful. If it were him, he would feel like he was treating his dad like a piece of meat. He would feel like he was perving on his father. Then again, he supposed he wouldn’t put it past the degenerates to want to fuck their own fathers.

All of which meant that he was put in a pretty awkward position by Andrea’s bizarre transformation. The whole thing beggared belief, in the first place. Stuck-up, preppy, pretentious rich boys didn’t suddenly blow up into hairy, muscular, leather daddies just like that.

It wasn’t just the physical transformation that was alarming. The fact that reality itself seemed to have been affected put a cold knot of dread in Drew’s stomach.

A look at the guy that his friend had been transformed into and the only name that came to mind was “Andrea.” He knew that it was the wrong name, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t remember the right one.

Neither Tag nor Lyle seemed to remember, either. Their little gang had been together since sixth grade. Eight years being friends and not a one of them could remember a name they’d used probably thousands of times between them.

The change in Andrea’s attitude was just as disturbing. In the beginning, at least, he’d fought the change. Not anymore. Maybe he was still resisting, deep down, but it was hard to think that when he was stroking his fat cock and tweaking a nipple with a half-grin.

It was as if their friend had been erased, totally replaced by a stranger before their eyes. The old Andrea would have never even dreamed of being so vulgar in front of an audience—even if they were supposed to be his best friends in the world. Nor would he have been caught dead in a get-up like the one he was wearing, much less one with a rainbow pride flag pin.

It didn’t take a genius to tell that Tag and Lyle were in the same boat as Drew. Looking at them, he knew: they were scared shitless, just like he was.

How they hadn’t freaked out yet and made a break for the exit was beyond Drew. But if it had to guess, it had to do with Andrea. The old Andrea had never been the meekest guy, but the new Andrea possessed an air of authority that Drew was hard-pressed to ignore.

For some reason, despite his better judgment, when Andrea had told him to shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down, he’d done exactly what he was told to do. Even now, he felt weirdly hesitant about saying something. He felt as if he would disappoint Andrea if he tried, and that, for some reason he didn’t want that. And if he had to guess, the same was true for the other two.

It didn’t matter. Not to Drew, at least. He couldn’t speak for the other two but he doubted they had the same problem he did: he was hard. And worse still: he was pretty sure he’d never been so hard in his life.

He squirmed where he sat on the edge of the stage in the middle of the room. He felt as if someone had replaced his cock with a piece of rebar—he was just that erect.

And it wasn’t as if he had no idea why he was in such a predicament. He knew exactly why. But the knowing brought him no comfort as the truth crossed the line he’d set for himself, and he wasn’t willing to acknowledge it.

Uncharacteristically, Drew sat with his legs together. He was hoping it would hide his predicament because the outline of his cock, snaking down his right pants leg, was nothing short of obscene.

It was wrong and against everything that he believed in but he could scarcely resist. His mind went back to Andrea’s transformation again and again. And all because his friend had lived out a fantasy he’d had for as long as he could remember.

Drew was far from the kind of guy that would be classified as a geek, but he did have one indulgence: comic books. He’d been enamored with them from a young age and believed that his father was one of the tall, muscular, and handsome heroes in those glossy pages.

Comics weren’t something that he indulged much these days but they still had a place in his heart. He still had his collection of Hall of Heroes comics. It was hardly complete from the perspective of a hobbyist collector but it was a complete collection of comics that featured his favorite character: the hero Upsurge.

Upsurge was a simple character, but even though he was far from the most powerful of the Hall of Heroes’ members, his power was the one Drew most wanted to have for himself. Off duty, Upsurge looked like a pretty typical guy next door but when the situation called for it, he could increase his strength manyfold, bulking up in the process.

Drew couldn’t even remember how many times he’d dreamed of being able to call upon the Stalwart Source to grant him strength like Upsurge. It had always been innocent, focused more on how it would feel to have all that power flowing through him, swelling his body beyond mortal limits.

But seeing Andrea blow up the way he did had added an erotic dimension to the concept that had never even occurred to Drew before tonight. And as much as he was loath to admit it, it was the hottest thing he’d seen in his life. Not even his best hookups could compare.

The moment he realized Andrea’s suit was getting tight on his body, Drew’s mind had been cast back to the comics of his youth. The wave of arousal that had washed over him then had been powerful, making his cock twitch in his pants.

Things had only gotten worse from there. Watching Andrea’s clothes strain to contain his swelling muscles had been as good as seeing Upsurge come to life.

Unlike the comics, which mostly covered the transformation in three or so panels, Andrea’s transformation had been an opportunity to see the change in excruciating detail. And Drew had never been so horny in his life.

As much as he wanted to look away, he couldn’t. It was as if he’d been spellbound, his gaze riveted to Andrea’s swelling body. He’d drunk in every last detail, committing the images to memory.

How Drew hadn’t lost his load then and there the moment Andrea burst out of his clothes, he didn’t know. He’d very nearly creamed his pants, though.

There was just something so indescribably hot about the scene. It was as if the old friend he’d had since sixth grade, with his coiffed hair and immaculate suits, had been little more than a chrysalis—a cocoon—with a beast of a man inside, just waiting to be released.

As terrifying as it was to have his friend transformed so dramatically, so fundamentally in front of his eyes, there was one thought that kept coming back to Drew: he wished that it had been him, instead.

He wasn’t as interested in the leather daddy transformation that followed, granted. He wanted the muscles, not the change in orientation that it came with. But more and more he was coming around to the notion that if it was to get his ideal body, he wouldn’t mind so much.

The sound of something lewd and wet smacking against skin pulled Drew out of his thoughts. He looked at Andrea and very nearly cursed under his breath.

Steve was on his knees next to Andrea and Andrea was slapping Steve across the face with his fat, dripping hog. Steve had pink across his cheeks and a lump in his pants as he mouthed at Andrea’s cock and the leather daddy, for his part, had a cocky half-grin on his face as he watched the faggot desperately slobber on his dick.

Andrea grabbed Steve by the hair and unceremoniously shoved him onto his cock. “Help daddy with this while he figures out what to do with the rest of these troublemakers,” he said with a grunt as his cock slipped into Steve’s mouth.

Drew’s cock surged to attention. He hadn’t thought it could get any harder, but he’d been mistaken. As much as it left him feeling the heebie-jeebies to watch, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He’d seen blowjobs before, fat porn cocks sucked by brainless, big-busted bimbos that chowed down on cock as if it were the food of the gods, but never any as good as the one Steve was giving Andrea. It was earnest and raw, with no hint of pretense. Just a man eager for cock and a beastly brute more than happy to provide it.

Drew was enamored. Engrossed. His cock twitched as he watched Steve’s head bob up and down on Andrea’s thick shaft. The lewd, wet sucking noises were like sex in his ears and despite his better judgment, he found himself leaning forward to hear them better.

A quiet groan escaped him as his hand wandered between his legs. He massaged the outline of his cock through his pants. Somehow, he wasn’t just harder than he had ever been in his life, he was more sensitive too.

“Shit,” Drew muttered to himself. It was getting harder and harder to hold back but the last thing he wanted was for Tag and Lyle to think that he was turning into a faggot. At the same time, though, rubbing his cock felt too good to stop.

He bit down on the knuckles of his free hand to stifle the moan that threatened to spill out of him when Steve took the entire considerable length of Andrea’s fat stallion cock in his throat. He barely managed to hold back.

“You.”

Drew flinched at the sound of Andrea’s deep, gravelly rumble. His gaze flicked up and he saw the baton that had been at Andrea’s waist pointing at him. “M-me?” he said, gulping audibly.

“Am I pointing at anyone else, son?” said Andrea.

Drew swallowed and turned his eyes further up to meet Andrea’s gaze. “N-no, Sir…” he trailed off, eyes widening. For a moment, he didn’t see Andrea standing over him. He saw his father.

He averted his gaze, cheeks heating up to the point he was afraid they might burst into flame. Inadvertently, he looked at Steve but instead of Steve, he saw himself. Him on his knees. His lips wrapped around his dad’s cock.

The shock of the hallucination shook Drew out of the stupor he’d been in. His hand flew off of his cock. Dread, terror, and disgust gripped his heart. He felt like he was going to be sick.

“No…” he said, shrinking away from Andrea’s baton as he shook his head. “No. No. Not me. I’m not going to let you change me.”

Andrea scoffed. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice, boy,” he said. “Whether you like it or not, you’re next.”

The moment Andrea uttered those words, heat began to bubble up inside of Drew. “No. Shit. Fuck. No. Please. Don’t!” he said as sweat beaded on his brow.

“Bro, help!” He leaned back and reached for Tag.

“Fuck! Don’t touch me!” said Tag. He kicked at Drew’s hand as he scrambled away and only barely missed. “I don’t want any part of this sick, twisted shit, bro!”

Bastard. So much for friendship, Drew couldn’t help but think as he stretched his hand out toward Tag in vain. When it became clear he wasn’t going to get any help, he turned over to the other side.

Lyle stared at him with wide eyes. He reached out as if he was going to take Drew’s hand but pulled back at the last minute. He did it a few times, all the while saying, “Shit. Fuck. Uh… What… What do you want me to do, bro?” he said.

“I dunno, man!” said Drew. “How the fuck am I supposed to know?” A low groan escaped him as the heat in his stomach intensified. “Just help! I don’t want to become a freak!”

Lyle chewed on his lower lip but just as he was about to grab Drew, Tag interjected. “Don’t do it, bro!” he said. “You don’t know what will happen to you if you touch him! Save yourself, man!”

Drew cursed under his breath as the heat slowly spread to his chest. Tag was supposed to be the bravest, hardest motherfucker in their little group. He didn’t expect the guy would turn into the biggest bitch just because Andrea had been transformed so dramatically.

“C’mon, man! We’re supposed to be friends!” he said, reaching out for Lyle with greater insistence. But Tag had gotten to Lyle. He clutched his hand to his chest and shook his head, eyes wide and apologetic.

Drew didn’t have the opportunity to curse out either of his supposed friends as the heat surged throughout his body. “Nnnh!” he moaned, surprised at just how good it felt as every fiber of his being suddenly felt as if it were on fire.

His elbows dug into the stage as his back arched off the surface. His toes curled. His lungs filled with what felt like molten soup.

Drew’s cock pulsed and throbbed, even harder than it had been just moments before. Wave after wave of intense, orgasmic pleasure shook through his body until it was the only thing that he could think of.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Drew fell back onto the stage with a thump. He didn’t feel much different, which was a relief. Although, part of him couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

Pulling himself over to the edge of the stage, Drew sat up and looked down. No change. At least, not that he could see. He still felt weirdly warm and tingly all over but that was about it.

When he looked up and saw Andrea’s grin, he realized it wasn’t over. For some reason, he wasn’t nearly as afraid as he thought he should have been.

“Ready?” said Andrea.

Drew gulped. “W-what?”

Andrea smirked. “The real deal, son.”

Before Drew could say anything else, the end of Andrea’s baton struck him square in the middle of the forehead. As if it had been waiting for permission, the heat returned with a vengeance, ripping through Drew’s body like wildfire.

It soaked deep into his muscles and bones, making him feel as if he was being cooked and melted from the inside out. It was uncomfortable but not because it was painful. It was just too intense.

Drew tossed his head back and groaned. The sensation was just getting worse. It was especially bad in his arms and legs. They burned and ached and for the longest time, he couldn’t focus on anything else.

It felt like an eternity before the intensity dulled. When it did, his body felt different. Looking at himself, it was as if he’d been stretched out. His arms and legs were longer and the rest of him subtly changed to match his new proportions.

Drew flinched as a shadow fell over him. He wasn’t used to feeling so afraid but he knew the stakes.

Andrea’s imposing figure came into view, looking down on him. The leather cop smirked and said, “You want to be bigger, don’t you, son? Wanna be as big as daddy?”

The words felt like a trap. Drew was at least still enough in control of himself that he managed to stop the words wanting to spill from his lips.

“Answer me honestly, boy,” he said.

Looking into Andrea’s eyes, Drew felt compelled to answer. He poured all his willpower into resisting the order but the longer he held Andrea’s stern gaze, the more he felt that fighting was pointless.

It didn’t take more than half a minute for him to crack. “Y-yes, Sir,” Drew croaked.

“Good boy,” Andrea cooed, and Drew couldn’t help but flush at the compliment. “Don’t worry, son. We’ll make you nice and swole. But change ain’t cheap. So we’re gonna have to figure out what you’re willing to give up for it.”

Drew shivered. The look in Andrea’s eyes was like a promise. This was going to happen. There would be no escape. By the time the night ended, he would be just as different from who he was at that moment as Andrea was different from the guy that had walked into the club at the start of the evening.

He was naturally afraid—afraid of how he would change and what he would lose—but at the same time there was a not-insignificant part of him that was excited to see what would happen.

Andrea tapped Drew’s temple with his baton. “How about this? Let’s turn some of those useless things in that pretty head into meat,” he said.

Drew’s breathing quickened. His heart pounded in his chest. Against his better judgment, he was actually considering the proposition. “H-how much?” he said.

“How much muscle?” Andrea smirked. “We’ll see. How much useless stuff? What about everything you learned from school from 1st grade to 8th grade?”

“Yes!” Drew said, without so much as a second thought.

Just as soon as he gave his assent, he felt like there was something compressing his head, squeezing the knowledge he’d promised to pay out of his mind. A moan spilled out of him as he suddenly found it more difficult to control himself, not that he had much time to think about what he’d done as the heat in his body surged once again.

Drew’s back arched off the top of the stage as he felt his muscles swell. As intense as the sensation was, he couldn’t help but grin. It had barely even begun but he felt so powerful already.

The feeling was intoxicating. All the effort of years, lapped in a moment as his body swelled with gains he could only have dreamed of in the past. Granted, he’d been more lenient with himself over the summer, but still. It was more progress than he’d had in a long time.

Gradually, the extra heat dispersed. It left Drew covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His body was certainly bigger than before. His shirt fit him better, his pants tighter around the waist.

“This should be enough, right?” said Andrea with a half-smirk.

Drew hesitated for a moment. He didn’t know what else he’d be asked to give up. He didn’t know how willing he would be to pay the price. For a moment, he considered leaving it at that, but his cock twitched in his pants and he was reminded of how good it had felt to grow.

“More,” he croaked despite the small voice in the back of his head telling him it was a trap. He couldn’t hold back. He wanted this. Needed this.

“9th grade and up,” said Andrea.

Drew nodded, hissing “Yes!” past gritted teeth as the heat returned. His whole body burned. Sweat trickled down his face. His fingers scrabbled uselessly against the surface of the stage as his body swelled with muscle.

At the same time, he couldn’t help but moan. The force compressing his head returned. He felt the knowledge trickling out of his head, melting into meat for his body. Everything he’d ever learned from school just evaporated, popping out of existence like delicate soap bubbles.

Drew never could have anticipated how good it could feel. The emptier his head got, the more aware he became of his improved physique. It felt nothing short of amazing.

There was something so indescribably erotic about what he was doing to himself. The notion that he was trading away his intelligence to grow bigger was so fucking hot. And with every piece of knowledge that trickled away, every point of IQ that dropped, his cock only got harder and leakier.

When it was over, Drew was about as big as Tag had been a few years ago. If he’d just been this big in high school, he’d have given Tag a run for his money. He felt so large. So strong. It was nothing short of addictive.

He flexed his arms. It felt so good. A low, idiotic chuckle rumbled out of his chest, and even though it made him sound like the dumbass chucklefucks that had been on Tag’s football team, hearing himself so devoid of intelligence made his cock throb.

Drew was already bigger than most guys but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.