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Overcast, ch. 3: Minor Contributions
🕑 Added 2023-09-24 17:41:51 +0000 UTCCraig looked down at the faint outline of his abs, the firm midsection a cauldron of bubbling, conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he was thrilled. The channels of definition weren’t overly deep, and the budding washboard was still well within the single digits, but it was still more progress than he’d made in years. And it happened in a single night. The smooth, pale skin of his flat midsection had been soft and shapeless the day before, just like the modest pecs that now stood out between shoulders that hadn’t exactly broadened, but had begun to make themselves known. Likewise, spindly arms and lanky legs now hinted at muscle, could actually flex, while a cresting bubble had begun to sprout where once there’d been a complete absence of ass. No one would ever mistake Craig for a bodybuilder, but the now-lean young man could probably pass for a runner. He didn’t look merely thin anymore; he looked fit, tight and toned.
Considering how long he’d been trying to achieve such a state, Craig was beyond excited. He’d spent years lifting like his friends, downing supplements and pounding protein, only to achieve none of their results. While they all broadened and blossomed into athletic flowers, he remained a slender stalk. They easily bloated with bulk, or at the very least had packed on the pounds, intentional or otherwise, but Craig’s metabolism remained steadfast in its refusal to cooperate. And now that he’d crossed into the latter half of his twenties, he feared it never would. He was afraid that he was missing out on his prime, that his glory days were passing him by, and if he didn’t seize on them now he’d never have the chance again.
So to see any amount of additional muscle was a dream come true, or at least a sign of money well spent. Craig had certainly paid enough to make it happen, though with an unlicensed Caster like the one he’d found there was never a guarantee. The person could have just ripped him off entirely. Given the illegal nature of an off-the-books working, it’s not like the desperate young man could have reported the supposed Caster to anyone if they’d simply taken the money and ran. People who sought out such services got in just as much trouble as the ones who provided them, making it a roll of the dice. The listing also could just as easily have been a BMR trap, with an eager Agent waiting to bust him on the other end, but Craig was willing to take his chances. And it had all been so simple. He’d described the desired outcome, to be like the buff bodybuilders and muscled meatheads at the gym, and he’d followed the instructions to the letter, cracking the delicate vial at exactly 3am on the morning of the new moon and huffing the small, shimmering cloud it emitted.
Now all Craig had to do was wait for the process to unfold, which is where the lean blonde’s mixed emotions began to enter the picture. The Caster had explained that magic wasn’t an exact science, and that something didn’t come from nothing, though they’d been relatively certain that the working’s high price tag would count as the necessary sacrifice, should one be required by the arcane forces at play. However, they’d also said that it was possible for there to be other “minor contributions” on Craig’s part, the specifics of which they hadn’t been able to confirm. Looking at himself in the mirror, the naked blonde wished he’d pushed for a better understanding of what constituted “minor.”
“It’s not a big deal…still plenty to spare,” Craig muttered to himself, a hand wrapped around his thick, lengthy pole. The rigid organ loomed long and large above the wiry man’s heavy, churning balls, and anyone who witnessed him at that moment would undoubtedly be impressed by the imposing package’s overall girth. Even with the slight addition of extra muscle, Craig’s virile rod looked massive against his thin, toned build. It was the one area where he’d managed to outgrow everyone else, the sizable hose topping out at an intimidating ten inches. The dangling snake was every bit as long and lean as the rest of his 6’2” frame, a fact that Craig was more grateful for than ever as the aching log appeared to have lost over an inch. “Eight and a half is totally respectable…probably better, honestly,” he sighed, giving the throbbing cock a tug as he stared at his reflection. His sharp, harsh features hadn’t changed, but Craig felt like he was looking at a stranger from the neck down. He flexed the budding pecs, marveling at the small bicep that appeared as he folded his free arm behind his head and tensed his recently acquired abs. Image after image of meaty, mountainous men flashed through his head as Craig picked up steam, his countless hours spent in gyms and locker rooms taking on a new twist as he thought of himself filling the brawny bruisers’ shoes. He saw himself as a buff, broad-shouldered body-builder, strutting with casual confidence as his perfect physique stood on full display, but he also began to wonder if their muscles felt like his, what it would be like to have his meaty arms wrapped around their burly bulk, and to stand on equal footing instead of being loomed over.
The thought of bare, brawny flesh front-and-center in his racing mind, Craig blasted all over the mirror, the erupting organ’s loss of size apparently having no impact yet on its potency. Sticky streams ran down the smooth glass, and Craig, his face flushed from both the foreign thoughts of masculine meat and the intensity of the release, gave himself another satisfied once-over before taking in the other, more external alterations.
The dripping blonde now realized just how wide a net the spell had cast. When the Caster explained that magic wasn’t an exact science, Craig initially thought that just meant they couldn’t do something precise like dial in a specific size, or weight, or proportion. The thought that his entire life was about to undergo a makeover had never once entered his mind. But, looking around at the foreign clothing peppering the floor of his bedroom, it was clear to Craig that more than his body had been affected. He’d always been a boxers or boxer-briefs kind of guy, yet now his drawers were full of skimpy briefs, jock straps, and even small posers. At the same time, his drab t-shirts and button downs had been swapped for bright tanks and muscle shirts, while his unremarkable chinos and jeans had become a variety of joggers and small gym shorts. Had he been paying more attention, Craig likely would have had a stronger reaction to the complete absence of any business casual gear, but he was more concerned about the bright blue briefs slipping up his now-toned thighs. To be fair, his anxiety had less to do with the underwear than the fact that he put nothing else on as he headed for the door, seemingly content to strut out into the apartment with his still-softening bulge fully on display. It was the kind of behavior his roommate, Tyler, exhibited on a regular basis, but not the sort of thing the insecure blonde ever participated in.
His friend could lounge around in his boxer briefs and nothing else all he wanted. With his dark hair, bronze skin, and ample muscle, Tyler had the exact kind of body Craig had always dreamed of. He was fit and tapering, with broad shoulders, powerful arms, plump pecs, and an ass that somehow managed to be eye-catching without becoming unwieldy. The raven-haired hunk had big hands, a big jaw, and a big personality, carrying himself with the kind of confident, casual ease that the waifish blonde envied. Whether he was at work, at home, or at the gym, Tyler maintained the same unflappable calm. It was a trait that Craig attributed to the jock’s chiseled frame and handsome features more than anything else, or, to be more precise, the constant, positive attention that those features brought him. The thinner man had always been certain that if he’d had the same, his entire outlook would shift in a similar direction.
Now, Craig had the chance to put that theory to the test. Despite thinking that he should be embarrassed as he crossed the threshold in nothing but his underwear, the addled blonde didn’t actually feel any of it. He thought he should be tense, that his heart should race as his bare feet padded across the worn wooden floors, the open air wafting over his exposed flesh, but all Craig felt was calm. His body still hummed with a pleasant buzz from the recent release, and his head still swam from the excitement of his magical victory. So when he turned the corner into the kitchen and saw Tyler standing at the counter, he didn’t hesitate or try to cover himself in the slightest.
“Mornin,” he said, his eyes lingering on the way his friend’s broad back tapered as it reached the elastic waist of the other man’s loose cotton shorts.
“‘Sup, dude,” Tyler yawned, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow when he turned to face the brief-clad blonde. There was a lingering silence as the two men stared at each other, with Craig unable to boast about his purchased appearance, and Tyler’s memories rapidly readjusting to the altered reality. “Lookin’ good, bro,” the sculpted jock finally said, reaching out to give Craig’s ass a swat. “Those extra sets are really paying off.”
The grinning blonde was surprised by just how much he enjoyed the sensation of Tyler’s hand on his rear, but he was even more surprised when he responded by breaking into a double-bicep pose. “I know, right? Gonna be huge in no time,” he said, his casual smile betraying none of his internal shock when he saw the size of his arms. In just the few minutes since he’d left the mirror, what had been the budding beginnings of biceps had blossomed into impressive lumps. It was a trend that continued when he looked down at himself, with his modest pecs now sitting as muscled mounds above a washboard that had added an extra pair to its roster. To Craig’s dismay, though, the other trend appeared to have continued as well, and while the stunned stud-in-progress wasn’t sure if it was just the extra mass at his thighs that made it look smaller, his stuffed pouch was now considerably less full. The briefs had strained around his thick hose when he’d walked out of his room, leaving its long outline prominently displayed as it snaked off to the side, but now the bright blue material contained an organ that looked squarely average.
“You’ll have to share your secret,” the bronze-skinned stud said, seeming to acknowledge that Craig was growing, if not the impossible circumstances surrounding his friend’s inflation. “Must be all that extra protein you get,” he winked, reaching down to squeeze his own hefty package through the thin shorts.
Craig was caught off guard by just how quickly he noticed his friend’s apparent lack of underwear, as well as his own reaction to it. Seeing Tyler’s stocky member outlined against the heather fabric sent a pulse through him that finally got his heart racing, but not from nerves. Craig’s mouth watered at the unfamiliar longing, barely registering as his own cock rocketed to life. “Can’t build something out of nothing, right,” he shrugged, feeling like the floor had been cut away beneath him when he groped his rigid organ in full view of his friend. It wasn’t just the behavior that alarmed him, but the scope of his reduction, the absent inches quickly piling up against his enlarged hand.
“Want a quick pre-gym boost,” Tyler asked, pushing the front of his shorts down before Craig could respond.
The expanding blonde’s eyes went wide as he was hit with another sensation of falling, only this time he actually was heading to the floor. Craig fished his own cock free when he landed on his knees, the remaining bits of his former self reeling at the fact that Tyler now outsized him. He looked back and forth between the aching logs, his friend’s six-and-a-half inches now topping his own by at least half an inch, but instead of focusing on the size, all Craig could think about was the taste. His whole body quivered as he huffed his friend’s potent musk and swallowed Tyler’s cock to the hilt, his mouth and throat moving with the kind of tandem ease that only came from frequent practice.
As he pumped away on his shrinking organ, the increased muscles of his widening neck bobbing his head in rhythmic fashion, Craig knew that something had gone terribly wrong. He was getting the muscle he’d wanted, but he was apparently sacrificing his hulking endowment, not to mention who he wanted to use said equipment with, in the process. The addled blonde didn’t know enough about how Casters worked to know where he’d made a mistake, but he did know enough to realize it didn’t actually matter. Once a working was in effect, there was no going back. Like the threat of getting ripped off, Craig knew he couldn’t complain to anyone about his altered existence without serious repercussions, and that was assuming he’d know his existence had been altered at all by the time everything settled. Already, he was having to remind himself that the ease he felt regarding his own exposure was new, as was the impossibly familiar act of eagerly blowing his roommate. Part of it, the calm confidence, was what he’d wanted, but Craig had never imagined things ending with him on his knees and a cock in his mouth.
They also hadn’t ended. As he slurped and licked along Tyler’s cock, Craig actually felt himself expand. He felt his shoulders broaden, his arms growing heavy as his now-prominent pecs pushed farther off his chest. His ass swelled against his rocky calves as he squirmed on his knees, and he glanced down in time to actually witness his cock retreat into his fist below his shredded new tank tread.
Craig swooned. He’d become every bit as sculpted as Tyler, yet his friend was still bigger than him. He jerked his hand away to look at himself, the petite four inches seeming even smaller between his steely thighs, then glanced up to see his friend’s condescending grin beaming down on him. Instead of being angry, or embarrassed, the thought of his little poker against the other man’s comparatively hulking meat pushed him over the edge.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he moaned, pumping furiously on Tyler’s spit-slick rod to bring his friend along with him. The other man’s pulsing log quickly complied, blasting the groaning blonde in the face with a load that dwarfed the kneeling man’s. Craig savored the sensation as each warm spurt splashed against him, his tongue flicking out to lap at the streams that trickled near his slack jaw. “Fuuuuck…” he sighed again, trying, and failing, to shake the growing fog from his thoughts. He still felt like something was wrong, like he was losing something else, but he couldn’t quite place it as he grinned up at Tyler. “That was fuckin’ great, bro,” he grunted, giving his friend’s ass a rough squeeze. “Load was huge! Fuck! Wish I could shoot like that,” he said, the words feeling odd as he spoke them. Craig had dim recollections of a potent eruption earlier that morning, but even as he tried to recall it, the very idea seemed foolish. His tiny meat was a squirt gun, not a shotgun.
“Whatever, man,” Tyler shrugged, giving Craig’s thick upper arms an encouraging squeeze as the blonde climbed to his feet. “I mean, it’s not like you do much with it, right? Not compared to that mouth…or these,” he chuckled, reaching around and bouncing the blonde’s now-ample bubble. “A big piece would just get in the way.”
A shrinking part of Craig was horrified by the dim laugh he responded with. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said, stepping out of his discarded briefs. “Not really the part I’m trying to grow.” The fact that he was posing naked for his friend, his tiny cock on display and his face covered in cum, never once struck the addled Adonis as odd. Nor did Craig think to question how he knew the various poses in the first place. All he felt was a satisfied pride as he flexed his bare bulk for his friend, Tyler’s smile no longer striking him as condescending. It wasn’t that the dark-haired hunk’s expression had changed, the blonde simply couldn’t differentiate such subtleties any more, a fact to which Craig was now, and always would be, blissfully unaware. The very idea that his roommate might just be humoring the naked himbo in exchange for on-demand blowjobs or a tight hole whenever he wanted it never once crossed his mind.
“Like I said, bud…lookin’ good,” Tyler nodded after a few obligatory moments of watching Craig’s flexing. He gave his friend’s plump pecs a squeeze before reaching down to tweak the blonde bruiser’s little nub. “Don’t forget to clean yourself up before we head out, okay?”
“Oh, right! Fuck…I still got you all over my face, don’t I,” Craig asked with another dull chuckle, only barely registering the new size difference between them. He didn’t share his friend’s athletically muscled physique anymore; he’d surpassed it. While Craig had been busy flexing, his body had been busy growing, inflating to massive, meathead proportions. The blonde’s arms were pistons, his pecs a slab above a waist that no longer tapered but jutted out in a cresting muscle gut. The curve of his midsection matched the curve of his rear, the muscled globes a perfect complement to the tree-trunk thighs that nearly obscured the blonde’s acorn poker and miniscule balls. The dazed wall of muscle felt only a faint rush of anxiety at the sight before his new knowledge took over, and he remembered how easy it was to fit into his little posers without having to worry about a fat log or heavy knockers falling out of them. Since the skimpy bottoms were all he wore around the gym it made his life easier, and all the other guys seemed to enjoy it based on the way they were always looking and smiling at him. They were also quick to come off in the locker room whenever one of those same guys wanted to have a little fun.
Craig lumbered into the shower, leaving the bathroom door and the curtain wide open. It would have been a tight fit with the curtain pulled at his new size, and the concept that he should try and obscure his hulking, micro-dicked bulk had forever become a foreign one.
“I work til six tonight, so make sure you’re actually ready when I come to pick you up later,” Tyler said from the open door, standing far enough away to avoid the splash zone as the stream bounced off the blonde’s heaping pecs. “And I don’t just mean done with your workout. I don’t want to have to come track you down while one of those meatheads is pounding you in the locker room. Got it?”
Craig grinned at the memory of his granite globes being split by one of the grunting brutes he spent his days around. A part of him still felt like it was wrong, like he should be going to work too, not being dropped off at a grimy lifter gym as if it was some makeshift daycare, but just thinking about the musky paradise made him so giddy he quickly forgot all about it. “I’ll be…ready…” he said, finally noticing his altered features in the nearby mirror when he shut off the shower and stepped out. He’d been too busy staring at the rest of his body to think about his face, but, just like the rest of him, his sharp cheeks and severe jaw had broadened and filled out, looking wide and squared off instead of harsh. His now-plump lips further softened the overall appearance, leaving him with the classic, lantern-jawed look of a life-long jock. The statuesque mask was even complete with a set of bright, wide eyes that bordered on doe-like, with Craig’s dull, constant grin making clear the inflated stud’s new mental state.
“Let’s get a move on, bud,” Tyler said, giving the blonde’s heaping rear another swat. “You can stare at yourself at the gym.”
Craig blinked and shook his head, his friend’s hand on his bare ass immediately taking priority over his reflection. His little cock surged as he turned towards the other man, though the look on Tyler’s face told him they didn’t have time for another round. Craig thought about pouting until his friend inevitably gave in, the dark-haired hunk was an easy mark, but he knew that the sooner they got to the gym, the more friends he’d have to play with.
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Voting Options
Option 1: A raid on a rogue Caster’s house goes wrong for a group of unlucky BMR agents, with each room leading to a new life. (muscle growth, cock growth, stripped)
Option 2: An undercover BMR agent ends up going deeper than anticipated, putting his body on the line to get the proof the bureau needs to bring in a black market Caster. (hairy, weight gain)
Option 3: A BMR agent serving a warrant ends up serving himself instead when he stumbles on an unlicensed Coven who help themselves to his rugged body. (muscle theft, cock shrink, twink)
Option 4: A rookie BMR agent gets in over his head, literally, when he ends up as a Caster’s fun-sized trophy. (shrinking, stripped)
Comments
UltraM0th
Love a muscleman with a tiny cock!
