thescreamingmoist
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WingMan, ch. 4
🕑 Added 2024-07-08 18:52:09 +0000 UTCIt took weeks of patience, each day passing at a torturous pace, before Vince finally had his chance. He’d put out feelers with everyone he trusted, asking them to keep an eye out for anyone who mentioned receiving an invitation to one of the WingMan parties. Plan A was to somehow take it off their hands and go in their stead, testing the non-transferrable element of the invite. Plan B was to flash his badge and some doctored paperwork. He knew it would get him in trouble, that it would likely cost him his job, but considering what was on the line he was willing to risk it. He didn’t have enough, or really any, evidence to open up an official investigation, and any time he even hinted at his suspicions to someone else he was greeted with immediate incredulity.
But Vince’s certainty since finding Guillermo’s unaltered clothes and badge hadn’t wavered. The fog had lifted from his mind, making the detective feel like he was the only one who could see the world for what it was. While everyone else casually accepted the increasing presence of the scantily clad studs, the sight of the short, nearly-naked hunks strutting down the street left hot coals in his guts. The advertisements touting the available options, showing WingMen of all races and ethnicities, and their “customizability” in the form of piercings and tattoos, left Vince seething while others merely shrugged. Like Joey/Charlie had mentioned, bodybuilding competitions and WingMen Promenades had begun popping up, but only the detective seemed to notice their terrifying similarities to dog shows and county fair-style judging. Vince was also the only one who seemed to notice just how many people had gone, and were still going, missing. And not just familiar faces from the gym or the bar or even the force, but once-hot actors who hadn’t had a role in months, who no one else could even recall.
The scale of it all was terrifying. Even for someone who’d been hardened by years of law enforcement, Vince was well aware that he was about to bite off much more than he could chew. He just didn’t care. He’d continued to linger by the WingMan park, keeping his distance but noting Guillermo/Rocky’s changing appearance. His shrunken friend seemed brawnier each time, his wavy mane now buzzed to complement the beefy build he increasingly flaunted. The speedo Vince had seen “Rocky” in the first time now qualified as overdressed compared to the stringy thongs that barely covered the petite package, itself barely visible between the giant thighs. His friend’s stubby arms hung at an angle, he looked like he couldn’t even see over his compact slab of a chest, and he now had an ass like a beach ball. Had he still retained his original height, Guillermo would have been a monster, so big that the hulking hunk likely wouldn’t have been able to fit through a doorway without turning sideways. But, despite the imposing proportions, Vince watched Guillermo’s “buddy” scoop him up and toss the pint-sized powerlifter around like he weighed nothing. The determined detective knew he was torturing himself, he knew there was nothing he could do for his friend in those moments; he just couldn’t risk forgetting.
So when the moment finally arrived, Vince jumped on it. He just happened to be at his usual spot at his usual bar, trying to drink away the sour taste of all things WingMan, when a pretty-boy dealer got popped pushing pills. It all happened so fast, so fluidly, that it felt like fate. Vince knew the officers who showed up, was able to distract them with casual conversation while pocketing the WingMan invite they’d found on the lantern-jawed blonde. It was for an event that evening, only an hour later, leaving the detective just enough time to dart home and clean himself up. Vince gave his salt-and-pepper scruff a trim, opting to leave what he hoped was a “ruggedly handsome” amount of stubble, before slipping into a pair of bright red briefs, his tightest jeans, and a fitted button-down left half open. It was a flashier outfit than he usually wore, the clinging denim showing off his stout bulge and plump bubble in equal measure, while the skin-tight top expertly accentuated his sturdy arms, sculpted pecs, and trim waist. Coupled with his naturally brooding features, the olive-hued hunk cut an impressive figure. If it wasn’t for the strands of silver in his short cropped hair, Vince could have passed for someone in their late twenties, not mid-thirties. And while he still wasn’t on Guillermo’s level, or that of the primped gym-bunny they’d just busted, he was confident that his looks wouldn’t immediately get him turned away.
But there was only one way to find out for sure. “I’m here for the party,” Vince said, handing his invitation to the bald wall of muscle at the door. Instead of an art gallery, this time they were at a small theater, the solid doors and lack of windows eliminating the need for curtains or other obscuring items to block prying eyes. The tuxedo-clad tank of a man standing outside looked out of place as he guarded the front entrance, standing nearly a foot taller than the detective and easily twice as broad, his scowling, blunted face seeming to sit directly on his mammoth shoulders. Vince wasn’t sure how they were going to verify his identity since there wasn’t a name on the invitation, and he tensed when he saw the man pull out a small tablet and scan the string of numbers at the bottom of the golden card. The detective’s best guess was that the code likely tied to a profile with pictures pulled from social media, but, as he was racing to come up with a plausible excuse, the man simply nodded. He looked at Vince with an unreadable expression, raised a stubby finger to his earpiece, then cracked what could only be described as an attempt at a smile.
“Thanks for coming, Mr. Capello. Go on in,” the muscled mountain grunted as he opened the door and stepped aside.
Though small, the theater’s ornate, opulent setting appeared tailor-made for the grandiose event. Engraved columns lined the walls, leading up to sweeping arches that framed the painted ceiling, a heavy chandelier hanging in the center. The seats had been removed, leaving plenty of room for the bevy of beautiful men to mill around while chatting with each other. Just like the WingMan ads promised, Vince saw gorgeous men of every shade, their tall statures and stunning faces being the shared characteristics amongst them. They were dressed in varying attire, with some of their fit frames clad in joggers and loose t-shirts while others bulged out of more formal wear, the smattering of gorilla-like guards clearly standing out amongst the above-average Adonises. They hovered at the edges like stoic statues, constantly scanning the room but leaving any interaction up to the tall, angular figure who sliced through the crowd like a knife as soon as the detective entered.
“Vince! So glad you could join us,” the man said, his buttery voice dripping with sincerity. He was clad in a tuxedo like the guards, but unlike the brawny bulls he was razor thin, the sharp features of his face emphasized by a pointed goatee. Even for a seasoned detective like himself, Vince couldn’t peg anything about the man’s age or background. His skin was overly tanned, his wavy black hairy overly gelled, but his tapering features seemed ageless, their unblemished details simultaneously projecting youthful vibrance and years of experience. Along with a sudden resurgence of the fuzziness at the edges of his thoughts, Vince was immediately put off by the man, but he did his best to hide it. “I’m Ricardo.”
“Vince, but you already knew that,” the detective chuckled, squeezing the taller man’s slender hand. “Quite the crowd you’ve gathered,” he said, nodding towards the group.
“Oh, yes. Only the best of the best will do,” Ricardo purred. He stepped back and tilted his head, tapping a finger against his chin as he eyed the stocky detective. “Yes…I see it now…there IS a certain something about you, isn’t there?” Vince barely controlled a visible wince when the taller man reached out, squeezing his arms and running a finger down the visible valley between his pecs. The nimble digits worked their way lower, sliding down along his sides and slipping around behind to squeeze his rear and give the cheeks a light swat. It was equal parts seduction and inspection, and Vince didn’t know why he stood there and let himself be pawed at. He felt like he should pull away, but there was something magnetic about Ricardo’s presence. “You should try something like this,” the taller man said, his tone friendly and casual as he undid the detective's shirt, letting it hang open to expose the hirsute muscle underneath. Vince blushed when Ricardo kept going, but he didn’t try to stop the other man as the button at his waist was undone and his fly was opened to expose a bright crimson patch of the briefs underneath. The jeans were tight enough that they weren’t in danger of falling, but the stocky stud’s stuffed bulge was tantalizingly close to being exposed. “There we go! Much better,” Ricardo cheered, giving Vince’s meaty bubble another swat. “You can pull off that rugged-and-ready look so well…why hide it?”
The taller man trotted off before the stunned detective could respond. Instead of putting himself back together, Vince left his outfit undone, feeling both insecure and proud as he made vacant conversation with the other men. A part of him felt foolish at flaunting his body in such a manner, but, as much as he instinctively disliked the spindly Ricardo, a larger part felt a thrill at being complemented by the charismatic showman. Vince watched the effervescent man bubble between attendees, pawing and groping at each of them in a similar manner. Shirts were opened or removed entirely, pants were undone or dropped, and a few of the more stunning specimens were stripped down to their underwear altogether. Meanwhile, everyone continued their small-talk chatter as if it was all entirely normal, with Vince being the only one to notice the increasingly mechanical nature of their discourse. Things were starting to sound more and more like people “quitting and moving away”, to the point where even he was having to muster every ounce of his willpower to keep the fog from fully enveloping his thoughts. There was something in the air, like standing too close to an electrical transformer or a buzzing radio tower. It was the same sensation he’d been feeling for months, only magnified, an unseen hurricane that buffeted his brain, with Ricardo acting as the eye of the storm.
“If I could have everyone’s attention. Please! Please! I’ll be brief.” There was a sudden, captivating calm when the thin man leapt up onto the stage to address the crowd, and even Vince felt his anxieties start to thaw against Ricardo’s golden voice. “Thank you all for coming. Now that I’ve personally introduced myself to each of you, we’ll begin the individual interviews and answer any of your questions. Please continue to enjoy the refreshments and each other’s company while you wait. To the group, let me just say how happy I am to see such eager, beautiful faces. I’m sure you’ve all been paying attention to how fast we’ve been growing as a company. You’re getting in at an amazing time! We’re about to open our first flagship store here in New York City, as well as locations in Palm Springs and Miami. Pop-up events are planned all summer long in the usual hot-spots…P-Town, Rehoboth, Fire Island, Puerto Vallarta…plenty of exciting locations for everyone!” Ricardo paused for the brief applause before continuing. “We have new product lines and features that we hope you’ll all be excited about…I know I certainly look forward to seeing each of you represent the WingMan brand.”
Ricardo hopped off the stage after another burst of applause, zeroing in on a strapping, strawberry blonde hunk who’d earlier been stripped down to nothing but his black boxer briefs. Vince watched the grinning pretty-boy be led backstage, a process that was steadily repeated by the burly guards. One-by-one, the sleek studs vanished behind the curtain, but none of them ever came back out. The detective’s first thought was that maybe they’d exited by a back door, but many of them had left clothes in the theater, including pants. Vince bided his time and kept an eye on the guards, slowly inching towards the stage and waiting for just the right moment when he had enough of a window to dart behind the curtain.
“Someone’s in a hurry,” Ricardo purred, waiting just on the other side. “Cutting in line?”
Vince grabbed the taller man by the shirt and slammed him against the wall, surprised by the lack of people. He didn’t see any of the men who’d been taken back before him, nor were there any other staff in sight. “What the fuck is this,” he hissed under his breath, putting a thick forearm against Ricardo’s throat in case the other man needed silenced quickly. “Where is everyone? What are you doing to people? What did you do to Guillermo,” he grunted, resisting the urge to put his weight into the forearm anyway.
All at once, Ricardo’s luster seemed to fade. Deep, weathered wrinkles appeared around his mouth and eyes, with streaks of gray slicing through his gelled mop. “Oh, Vince,” he sighed, the golden tones replaced by an average, slightly nasally voice. “You really want to find out?”
And then there was darkness. Vince felt like he was falling, but he never hit bottom. The sensation wasn’t at all unpleasant, the stomach-inducing vertigo quickly fading to a gentle bob, as if he floated in a warm pool. He was wrapped in the enveloping comfort of the void, so relaxed and content that he barely noticed when the darkness lessened. Vince didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, or how long his eyes had been open, or even where he was. All he knew was that cozy, dim surroundings had replaced the inky abyss. The groggy detective was surrounded by smooth, hard walls on all sides save one, with an equally smooth floor mirroring the low ceiling overhead. He was nestled on a soft blanket, feeling so refreshed from his slumber that the surprise was slow in coming. He felt like he should have been more concerned at waking up naked and hard in a strange place, but he felt too good to care. There was a slight nagging sensation that he was forgetting something important as he dozed on the soft blanket and absently toyed with his rigid cock, and he was almost able to put his finger on what it was, until a smooth, golden voice captured the entirety of his attention.
“Is someone awake in there? Come on out, Vinnie.” Excited by the source of the beautiful sound, Vince hopped up from the blanket, stooping low in the tight confines as he staggered towards the opening. He blinked against the brightness when he stumbled out into an unremarkable beige room, his eyes going wide when he found himself staring directly at a giant’s waist. Though he was skinny, the goateed man towered over him in a way that Vince didn’t understand. When he saw his reflection in the nearby mirror, everything about his brawny, naked frame looked exactly the same, but the top of his head just barely reached the man’s belt. “There he is! Look at you,” the man cooed, his cheerful tone making Vince’s stomach flutter. “How are we feeling?”
“Go…good,” Vince stammered, as if he wasn’t sure. “Yeah…good! What…what happened?” He blinked and cleared his throat when he finally registered the high, squeaky sound of his voice. “Do I sound funny?”
“Funny? Not at all! You sound perfect,” the man said, making Vince’s knees go weak when he reached down and ruffled the salt-and-pepper hair. The slightest contact sent a bolt of pure pleasure down the shorter man’s spine, leaving him torn between wanting more of the same and wanting an explanation.
“I…I do? Wait…that’s not…not…” Vince paused as he gazed upward, his brow furrowing. “I know you, right? Ri…Ricardo,” he squeaked, slim needles of anxiety piercing the haze. The longer he stood looking up at the other man, the more he heard his altered chirp, the more he felt like something was wrong.
“Oh my…you were a bright one, weren’t you,” Ricardo chuckled, scooping the stocky stud up as if he weighed nothing.
“Whaa…! What…oh…oh wow…” Vince sputtered, the brief rush of fear he felt obliterated by the tidal wave of excitement that followed. A part of him still knew he shouldn’t be able to be picked up and held in such a manner, but he didn’t know where that thought came from or why. All he knew at the moment was that he was thrilled to be in Ricardo’s arms.
“Let’s get a closer look at you,” the taller man cooed, one thin hand clamping onto Vince’s muscled globes while the other gently stroked his plump pecs and flat stomach. “I know this is a lot to take in so suddenly. Normally we like to give our WingMen some more time to adjust. Everything’s so new and intense and…sensitive…” he laughed, feeling Vince spasm when he ran a thumb over a hairy nipple. The shrunken hunk was already leaking like a faucet despite the fact that his shortened cock hadn’t been touched. “But you were such a determined boy I thought it was only fair to give you an explanation while you could still appreciate it. Such a clever little fellow, to find us out like that. And so naughty,” he chided, chuckling when Vince’s expression went distraught. “Oh, I’m just teasing. You’re not naughty at all. We were expecting young Freddie, but you and your police friends got to him first. No worry…we can always invite him again. And it gave us a chance to finally meet you! Such a good boy. You are a good boy, aren’t you, Vinnie? Just like all of our WingMen.”
“NNNNGGGHHhh…” Vince grunted, Ricardo’s stroking finally pushing his untouched cock over the edge. He felt like he should be embarrassed at cumming in a strange man’s arms, but he was so thrilled at being told what a good boy he was that he barely heard the last word. “No…I’m…I’m not a WingMan,” he insisted, shaking his head. “I’m not…small! I’m a det…det…I’m a cop!”
“Those big words are hard, aren’t they?” Ricardo’s laughter dripped with condescension as he set Vince down in front of the mirror. “Of course you’re a cop! Just look,” he said, waving his hand.
“Whoa!” Vince’s grin was automatic when the clothes apparated out of nowhere. A pair of navy blue bikini briefs wrapped around his softening package while a too-tight t-shirt printed like a police officer’s uniform stretched around his burly torso, complete with oversized toy badge. He knew it was wrong, he still had just enough awareness to understand what being a WingMan meant, but the mere sight of the costume filled him with an almost primal glee.
“I’m sure you and your big buddy will solve all sorts of crimes together,” Ricardo said. “I am sorry you got caught up in things the way you did. Our arcane algorithm isn’t quite perfect, and every now and then some people slip through the cracks. Usually it’s not a concern, unless of course those people happen to be dogged detectives. Still…magically rewriting reality is a massive undertaking, and I think we’ve done pretty well, all things considered. We might miss a photo or a gym bag here and there, but I think we have much to be proud of, don’t you?”
Vince started to nod, then shook his head. “But…but I’m not…small!” he squeaked.
“Oh, but you are,” Ricardo gently chided. “You’ve always been this size, haven’t you?” He waited for Vince’s reluctant nod before continuing. “See? But what are you worried about? You’ve seen how happy WingMen and their buddies are. That’s you! You get to be happy like that! You do want to be happy, don’t you?” Vince’s nod was more vigorous this time, though the shrunken detective wondered why. He still felt like he shouldn’t be happy at the thought of his shortened body strutting around nearly naked in public, but, at the same time, it felt entirely natural. “And just because you’re short doesn’t mean you’re small. You like to ‘wrassel’, huh? You have to be pretty big to do that, right,” Ricardo asked, his tone openly mocking as he snapped his fingers. Vince let out another giggle when the makeshift police costume vanished, replaced instead by a wrestling singlet. The clinging fabric left none of his muscled frame to the imagination, especially as those muscles began to grow. “We can customize our WingMen however we like. In your case, we’ll make sure you end up with a buddy who appreciates a…rugged…companion. It’s not our usual aesthetic, but we can’t grow without branching out, can we?”
Vince was too focused on his changing reflection to try and understand the question. As he watched, his pecs swelled, pushing his shoulders farther apart while his arms inflated. His trim waist stayed tight, though the extra mass forced the tank-tread abs out into a brawny muscle-gut, the extra roundness complementing the ample globes and tree-trunk thighs below. “That’s…that’s…like…crazy, bro!” Vince cheered, the words forcing themselves free. The inflated hunk blinked at his reflection in silence for a moment, his confused expression gradually turning into a bright grin. He broke into a double bicep pose, then into a series of wrestling stances, his cock hard against the singlet. “I’m, like, huge!”
“See? Nothing to worry about,” Ricardo said, the singlet vanishing when he snapped his fingers.
“Hey! Where’d it go,” Vince pouted, despite being thrilled to see his naked new brawn in all its glory. As much as he liked the costumes, wearing nothing felt best by far.
Ricardo smiled as he watched Vinnie already settling into his new role. “We’ll be sure to send it home with your big buddy, along with anything else they select.”
“Who’s that,” the shrunken hunk asked, cocking his head.
“Climb back in and you’ll find out,” Ricardo said, motioning to the plastic box.
Vinnie clambered inside, his heart racing as the door shut behind him and the chamber was lifted into the air. He felt nervous without knowing why, the troubling emotion a sharp contrast to the giddy bliss coursing through him. He looked great, he felt great, Ricardo seemed happy, and he was about to meet a new friend. Why would he be nervous? He was a WingMan, able to spend his days flexing and fucking and doing whatever felt good while someone else did all the thinking. He got to run around without annoying clothes and let everyone look at him. And Ricardo was right. When Vinnie was by himself, nothing seemed small about him. His eager cock looked a little smaller than it had with the new muscle gut and meaty thighs around it, but it didn’t look really small until he was next to someone bigger, just like the rest of him.
That shift in perspective was emphasized a few moments later when Vinnie’s chamber was set down and the door opened. The naked hunk smiled bashfully as he clambered out, thrilled to find himself standing in front of half a dozen taller men. “Hi! I’m Vinnie,” he squeaked, puffing out his inflated pecs as Ricardo spoke.
“Gentlemen! Here’s your chance to get your hands on one of our more…unique…offerings. WingMen like him don’t come around often. He’s a feisty fireplug, a rambunctious wrestler, your own wisecracking wiseguy who can’t wait to be spoiled by your…” he trailed with a grin as he motioned to the flexing hunk.
Vinnie smiled back, even if he only half-heard what Ricardo said. The bigger men were slightly intimidating, but everyone seemed friendly as they scooped him up and passed him around. They especially liked it when he came, which happened several times from the petting and prodding, and even more so when the compact beefcake announced that he was about to blow.
The shrunken stud had no idea how long he was manhandled and passed around, but he eventually found himself in the arms of a young, toned brunette. He liked the way the man’s bright nylon shirt showed off his modest muscles, and he really liked the way his new friend’s joggers showed off his perky bubble and lengthy cock. Something about the way he talked and carried himself kept making Vinnie think the words “tech bro”, but the miniature meathead didn’t know what that meant.
“Well? Aaron? Do we have a match,” Ricardo asked.
The younger man smiled at Vinnie and nodded. “What do you say, big guy? Want to come home with me?”
“Totally! Oh man! That’s great,” Vinnie squeaked. “Your muscles aren’t big like mine, but you’re, like, so hot anyway!”
“I’ll take that as a complement, I guess,” Aaron chuckled. Vinnie was disappointed when his new friend put him down and closed him in the small room again, but he was excited to see his police costume and singlet inside. He listened to Aaron and Ricardo talk for what seemed like an eternity before the chamber was picked up again. After a few moments of jostling Vinnie felt fresh air waft in over his naked frame, and he was practically vibrating with excitement as the box was loaded into the back of a large SUV. He hated that he was so far away from his new friend, but Aaron’s voice kept him calm. “Don’t worry, big guy. We’ll be home before you know it. Once we get you settled and cleaned up, maybe we can go for a walk down to the park? My buddy Tom has a WingMan too, and I bet you guys’ll get along great. Rocky’s such a fun little dude.”
Comments
The Screaming Moist
Glad you liked it! One more chapter where we really get to play around with it, and then this one's done.
Ruffcub
Well, that was definitely worth the wait. I love how you described Vinnie’s confusion and how his personality changes subtly after his transformation! Hot as fuck!
