Jack accidentally grabs his missing roommate's Twink-brand shampoo in the shower and feels like a new man.
While Trey had always been gay and was adapting to life out of the closet, Jackie was still acclimating to the new desires that had come along with his new body. He had used Trey’s Twink accidentally, blindly grabbing it in the shower of their apartment, with no knowledge that it would not only slim him down and strip away his body hair but also make him gay. When he discovered what had happened to his roomate, Trey was profusely apologetic, but Jackie (formerly Jack) seemed delighted with his new self and could think of little else besides getting to a motel and fucking his best buddy again. And again.
The sun was down by the time they met Trey’s contact at a smoothie bar in the town’s gay district. From the man’s appearance, Jackie made the accurate assumption that Trey’s friend was not just a Twink supplier but a satisfied user. He was seated on a stool in a powder-blue crop top and white leather hot pants, his long tanned legs crossed at the knee, his rhinestone-studded flip-flops showing off the royal-blue polish on his toes. His hair was shaved close along the sides, with the top bleached almost white and cemented into a gravity-defying swoop. Jackie couldn’t wait to try out some new looks of his own with the thick hair that Twink had grown in place of his former crew cut.
Trey wrapped his arms around his friend and kissed him briefly on the lips, still new enough to his Twink-ified life to remain self-conscious about such a public display of affection with another man. “Bri, this is my bestie Jack. Oops, I mean Jackie. Jackie, this is Bri.”
Jackie extended his arm and shook Bri’s supple hand with the crushing firmness of the wrestler that he was. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Jackie said with a giggle in his lilting new voice. “Don’t know my own strength.”
“It’ll take more than that to hurt me, hon,” Bri smiled, making a long, slow appraisal of Jackie’s cute face and deep brown eyes. He tapped Trey gently on the forearm. “He’s such a sweetie. Aren’t you lucky?”
“Yeah, I am,” Trey declared, wrapping his arm around Jackie’s 28-inch waist. “So, you got the stuff for us?”
Bri placed a finger to Trey’s lips to shush him, then reached below his stool to pull out a tote bag containing four bottles of Twink. “You’re lucky,” Bri whispered. “This is getting harder and harder to come by, now that word has started to spread. I’ve heard people are paying ten thousand bucks an ounce for this on the black market.”
Trey’s pale skin faded further and his jaw dropped. “Oh, my. There’s no way we can afford that.”
Bri handed over the tote bag. “Don’t be silly, honey. This is my going-away gift to you. I only wish you weren’t going away.” Bri’s voice cracked with emotion and he grasped Trey’s hand.
“I know. We just thought it’d be simpler to start over in a place where no one knew us,” Trey said, although whenever he noticed their reflections in the windows, he couldn’t imagine that anyone at college would still recognize him, let alone realize that the cuddly waif now known as Jackie had only that morning been a hairy bruiser nicknamed “Sasquatch”.
Bri bounced on his stool excitedly. “Well, I won’t let you leave without one last night on the town. What do you saw we hit the Rainbow Room? My favorite DJ is working tonight.”
“You mean Andre?,” Trey asked. “The one with the big…?” Bri smirked knowingly and nodded.
Jackie had never been terribly sharp, and the Twink had slowed his thought processes even further, but even he could piece together that this would not be his old pal Trey’s maiden visit to the Rainbow Room. Jackie’s heart raced with anxiety about going to a gay club for the first time. This morning, the thought would have repulsed his old hetero self, but now he had a far different concern. “Can I go shopping first? I can’t go there dressed like this.” They had not yet had time to buy Jackie clothes that fit his new sleek frame, so he was currently engulfed in an XL tank top that hung well below his crotch, and sweat pants cinched tight to keep them from sliding past his slender hips.
Trey and Bri were delighted to help Jackie find his new look. They hustled down the street to Bri’s favorite boutique where Bri convinced the clerk to stay open a little longer to help out his friends. Taking one look at Jackie’s drooping athletic wear, the clerk realized the boy needed help desperately and busied himself gathering clothes more suitable for a night at the Rainbow Room. Jack had been pretty much a jeans-and-t-shirt guy, but Jackie was clearly a budding fashionista, responding eagerly to the clerk’s more dazzling suggestions, willingly modeling everything from a kilt to ass-less chaps. In fact, Jackie had so much fun trying on potential outfits, Trey and Bri worried they might never get him out of the store. Soon, they too got so swept up in the spirit that, when they left the store a half hour later, all three boys were dressed in new ensembles, with their old clothes shoved into the tote bag with the bottles of Twink.
In his paisley silk vest and red-vinyl short-shorts, Jackie felt the full effect of the cool night air across his hairless skin. Covered in goosebumps, he clung tightly to Trey’s arm and nuzzled his cheek against Trey’s bare shoulder, having quickly grown used to being the shorter and skinnier of the duo. Trey’s black-mesh muscle shirt and snug black-leather pants made him the most macho-looking of the threesome, easily out-butching Bri’s teal capris and frilly pink tuxedo shirt, unbuttoned to the navel, then tied into a knot,.
The wallop of persistent bass spilled through the walls and onto the street as the bois approached the Rainbow Room. Bri insisted on paying the cover charge for Trey and Jackie, and batted his mascaraed eyelashes at the ripped bouncer, asking if he could find a place to store their tote bag. The stoic muscleman had a weakness for a sweet face and took the bag from Bri, stashing it inside the box office.
A whole new world opened up for Jackie as they entered the cavernous club, with strobes and spinning spotlights illuminating the men crowding the dance floor in various states of dress. A wide tube hung from the ceiling, dispensing soapy white suds which were engulfing the dancers. “Cool, it’s a foam party!” Bri shouted, clapping his hands briskly and waving to Andre, the DJ. Andre saluted back and smiled, then resumed cueing up his next track. The big item Trey and Bri had alluded to was clearly outlined in three-dimensional glory in the DJ’s skin-tight old-school running shorts.
Trey was delighted to see Jackie’s awed expression at the spectacle around them. “Welcome to your new life, babe,” Trey smiled before kissing Jackie’s soft, plump lips. Jackie’s heavy cock stiffened, testing the elasticity of his shorts as he let his tongue explore his best friend’s inviting mouth. Pressing himself against Trey, he could feel a similarly rigid bulge straining the zipper of Trey’s new leather pants.
Bri watched them, impressed by the gusto with which Jackie was adapting. “Looks like you two are gonna be busy for a while. I’ll go grab some drinks,” he shouted over the throbbing music.
Meanwhile, the club’s flustered manager rushed from the back room frantically and ducked into the box office. “We’re running out of foam!” he shouted. The ticket seller barely blinked, so used to his boss overreacting that he had developed a strict policy of not listening to him. “I specifically told you to pick up some more soap this afternoon,” the manager yelled, waiting for a response but getting none. His fury was escalating until he noticed the tote bag resting on the floor of the box office. Tucked amongst a pile of clothes were what looked like shampoo bottles. He leaned down to inspect them, never having heard of Twink before. It wasn’t what they usually used to make their bubbles, but it ought to do the job in a pinch. He clapped the ticket taker on the shoulder and said, “Sorry for yelling,” then carried the four bottles of Twink to the back room.
Bri made stilted conversation with the two hopelessly straight bare-chested bartenders, then slinked his way back through the crowd carrying three kamikazes. He was jostled so much that he spilled a good portion of the drinks onto the floor. A head-on collision with a shaven-headed, walrus-mustached leather bear splashed more of the drinks onto Bri’s baby-smooth chest. The burly man looked down at Bri with an unexpectedly sweet grin. “Sorry, little buddy. Did I make you wet?” Bri merely smiled politely and moved along, never having been into fat, hairy guys. If Bri had his druthers, this place would be teeming with nothing but twinks.
By the time he reached Trey and Jackie, still intertwining their tongues, Bri’s glasses were only half full. Bri cleared his throat just enough to be heard through the pounding music. “Aren’t your mouths worn out yet? Here, take these.” Jackie and Trey parted and grabbed the drinks. Raising his glass in a toast, Bri yelled, “Bottoms up, bois!” which prompted Jackie to turn around, bend over and waggle his firm butt tantalizingly at the other two. Bri turned to Trey and asked, “Are you sure this boy was straight this morning?” Trey just shrugged, as amazed as Bri.
The tempo slowed slightly and Jackie smiled shyly at Trey. “Do you wanna dance?”
In all their years, first as wrestling teammates, then as roommates, it was a question Trey dreamt of but hadn’t dared to imagine he would ever hear from Jackie’s lips. “I thought you’d never ask,” Trey said, taking Jackie’s hand and leading him into the thick of the bubble-coated throng.
As they swayed together, hands sliding along the contours of each other’s bodies, Trey and Jackie felt euphoric. Their minds were clouded with arousal as a familiar aroma filled their noses. Trey was the first to place it, his eyes popping open in surprise. “Do you smell that, babe?”
Jackie, head resting blissfully on Trey’s shoulder, muttered, “Smell what, honey?”
“I could swear this foam smells like…Twink!”
Jackie took in a deep breath and his already rigid cock grew even harder. He would recognize that exotic, life-altering scent anywhere. “Mmmmm, you’re right. Isn’t it wonderful?” He rested his cheek against Trey’s chest, lost in the tingling sensation of yet another exposure to the wondrous substance.
Trey looked around at the crowd, the assembled men a mixture of all body types and sizes. Trey gestured toward Bri, who was patiently enduring the insistent come-ons of his new friend the bear. Eager to escape, Bri made an excuse that he needed to rejoin his friends and threaded his way over to Trey. “Thank you for rescuing me. I don’t think that mountain man has showered in a month.”
“Well, take a whiff of this,” Trey said, pointing to the suds that surrounded them. “Smell familiar?”
Bri inhaled and his eyes popped wide with delight. “Twink!”
“Exactly!” Trey looked worried. “You’re positive that more exposure won’t affect us any further? I don’t want to overdo it and wake up some morning as a two-year-old.”
Bri shook his head. “There’s plenty of evidence now. Once you’ve had the two doses, your changes are locked in forever.” He stared up at the shiny bubbles floating from the tube above them. “Although…”
“Although what?” Trey demanded to know.
Bri glanced at the bodies around them with a scientist’s curiosity. “I don’t know if anyone has studied what effect it has when it’s aerosolized.”
The initial effects were obvious almost immediately. As the foam came into contact with the clubgoers’ exposed flesh, they were instantly aroused, groping their dance partners and/or themselves hungrily and passionately. Even Bri, Trey and Jackie weren’t immune to the aphrodisiac effect of the compound, with Trey’s concerns dwindling as his horniness grew. He stripped off his mesh muscle shirt, then slid Jackie’s silk vest down the little twink’s skinny arms. Spinning Jackie around, he pulled their bodies tight, skin against skin, Trey’s hardening cock pressed against the cleft of Jackie’s ass, their hips undulating in unison to the relentless rhythm of the music.
Bri watched in awe as the dance floor became a sea of glassy-eyed bewilderment until he too became dizzy and light-headed. His knees buckled, but his fall was halted by the grip of two meathook hands. He turned to see who had come to his rescue, and was not surprised to discover it was his smitten bear. “Watch yourself, little buddy,” said the bear in a lumberjack rumble. “Wouldn’t want you to bruise that gorgeous ass.”
The Twink was sweeping away Bri’s resistance, as it was for everyone else in the club. Bri reached up and slung his arms around the man’s thick neck, smiling as he asked, “So what’s your name, big boy?”
“Max. Although you can just call me ‘yours’.” He wrapped his powerful arms gently around Bri’s thin frame, as if afraid he would crush the delicate boi. He leaned down to kiss Bri, who didn’t find the man’s mustache as irritating as most facial hair he had previously encountered. It was soft, not bristly, and the longer they kissed, the less Bri even noticed it was there. He felt bad for his initial prejudice against Max and leaned back, ready to apologize, when he discovered that Max’s mustache had disappeared. His upper lip was smooth and supple.
“What is it, sweetie?” Max asked upon seeing Bri’s look of surprise. “Not used to being kissed by a real man?”
Bri continued to stare, speechless and fascinated. Max was unaware that his precious mustache had vanished, along with the stubble that had previously coated his cheeks. Nor did he seem to have noticed the lilt that had crept into his voice, or the decreasing difference in their heights.
Bri’s eyes wandered the room where the rest of the dancers were writhing and moaning, oblivious to anything besides their growing carnal needs. Bri shouted to Trey and Jackie. “Look, bois, it’s happening!” Jackie was nuzzling Trey’s pecs, too lost in ecstasy to pay attention, but Trey had just enough will power left to take in the scene around him. The evidence was everywhere. All of the changes that had occurred to Trey and Jackie after two thorough showers with Twink were now taking place almost instantaneously from a single exposure, as his fellow dancers inhaled its aroma and the tiny but powerful bubbles worked their way into their pores.
Standing safely out of the suds behind the DJ, the manager stared with disbelief at the undulating crowd, not knowing that he had inadvertently discovered a more effective delivery system for Twink’s active ingredients. All he knew was that his crowd was thinning out. No one was leaving, they were just thinning out.
The slimming, height reduction and rejuvenating properties of Twink were affecting the bodies of everyone (other than the already transformed trio who had brought the product into the club). The changes were least dramatic among those with the least to lose, although even the youngest and skinniest kids in the club were shrinking, their facial features softening, eyes and mouths growing more prominent, body mass dwindling toward zero, transforming them back into gawky teenagers with libidos to match.
Trey stared in wonder at one buff adonis in cut-off jeans who had caught his attention since they first arrived. Without even interrupting his slinky dancing, his sculpted physique appeared to be evaporating into the air, bulging shoulders and pecs and biceps deflating, transforming him before Bri’s eyes from a massive gym rat into a trim and toned cutie with a perfect swimmer’s build. His military buzzcut had sprouted like a Chia pet into a lush, spherical afro. His cut-offs slid past his narrow hips and down his sleek legs, revealing to Trey’s delight that the newly Twink-ed stud had gone commando tonight, his semi-hard eight-inch cock flopping like a conductor’s wand in time with the beat.
Trey nudged Bri, but Bri’s attention was riveted on Max, whose radical changes were ongoing. Max was blissed out, eyes shut, taking in deep breaths, which only seemed to be intensifying the speed and magnitude of the transformation. Max’s big bones and bulky muscles were condensing, reducing him at first to a miniaturized version of himself with the proportions unaltered. By the time he had dwindled to Bri’s height, however, the shrinking of his muscles had kicked in, gaining hardness and definition as he lost the flabbiness in his arms and torso. His body’s pelt of curly fur was shedding, littering the floor beneath his feet with dark hair and revealing his emerging six-pack abs. His studded leather biker vest was now hanging loosely over a compact body which would be the pride of an Olympic gymnast. But it was the evolution of Max’s face that drew most of Bri’s focus. As the brute’s head narrowed and lengthened, his cheeks hollowed to push his cheekbones to the forefront, and his heavy brow receded, allowing his wide green eyes to achieve new and well-deserved prominence. Bri knew enough about Twink to keep his eyes on Max’s shaved scalp where a crop of dark whiskers poked its way forth before rapidly blooming into a swept-back mane which undulated over his ears and down past his shoulders.
The overhaul winding down and his arousal escalating, Max felt the room spinning and began to topple backwards, but Bri clung to him tightly, the once immense man now light in Bri’s scrawny arms. Jolted to reality, Max slowly parted his eyelids and looked lovingly at Bri. “Whoo, I feel sooo dizzzzy”, Max sighed, his vocal cords now reduced like the rest of him, turning him from a baritone into an alto.
“That’s okay, Maxie, just hang onto me,” said Bri. His cock was threatening to burst from his capris, so he unzipped his fly. His unleashed hard-on sprung upwards, slapping against his bare tummy and depositing a dollop of pre-cum on the skin above his belly button.
Max looked down hungrily. “Is that for meeeeee?” he asked with boyish enthusiasm. Bri nodded and Max, formerly a dominant top, dropped to his knees, wrapping his lips around Bri’s cock head and sliding his tongue along the slit to get his first taste of jizz. He grabbed the waistband of Bri’s capris and yanked them down, then dug the nails of his delicate fingers into the meat of Bri’s butt cheeks. Bri stroked his hands through Max’s long wavy hair and pushed his throbbing cock deeper into the new boi’s mouth.
Nearby, Trey had released his erection from the confinement of his leather pants, sliding Jackie’s shorts down the firm curves of his glutes and pushing his cock deep inside his best buddy’s inviting ass. Jackie yowled with delight with every thrust, his own cock already pumping heavy spurts inside his vinyl hot pants. His eyes parted slightly and he got his first glimpse of the aftermath of the mass Twink-ing. Wherever he looked, incredibly cute boys were paired up or tripled up or quadrupled up, awash in desperate desire and fragrant foam. Jackie felt like he was standing in the midst of a 21-and-under orgy, with twinks fucking on the floor, twinks fucking against the walls, twinks fucking everywhere.
The manager might have done something to control the crowd, but the suds had eventually floated his direction and worked their wonders on the cranky middle-aged man. His severely taut face lift had softened into the robust and cheerful baby face of his college days, and the sagging body he struggled so mightily to keep in shape now had the sinewy strength of a long-distance runner. Unable to rein in his raging urges, the manager grabbed Andre the DJ’s white t-shirt in his hands and tore it to shreds. Swamped in his own hormone overload, Andre dropped his running shorts, whipped out his enormous dick, and hopped onto the turntables, scratching the vinyl record that was playing and rendering the club’s thundering sound system suddenly silent. Andre began to stroke his cock while spreading his legs wide, inviting the manager to come inside.
By now, the foam had reached the bar where it overpowered the two straight bartenders. The prospect of healthy tips had been enough to persuade the two former fratboys to work here, figuring as long as they worked their shifts as a team, they’d have each other’s backs in case any drunk fags got too flirty. So when they first smelled that intoxicating scent drifting over from the dance floor, and felt the soap bubbles against their shirtless bodies, it shocked them both to feel an immense physical longing for the other spread through their systems. Their inhibitions were quickly shed, followed soon after by their sneakers, their black jeans and their white y-fronts. They were now lying on the sticky floor behind the bar, looking like a couple of lean high-school seniors as they worked out the logistics of 69-ing, both suddenly insanely curious to learn what each other’s cum tasted like. If anyone wanted a drink from them, they were shit out of luck, but demand for alcohol had plummeted now that everyone on the dance floor was screwing or sucking or blowing their brains out.
In the lobby, the bouncer and ticket seller realized that the music had stopped, with nothing but howls and moans of ecstasy reaching their ears. Curious what was going on, the two men left their posts and walked down the hallway to the dance floor, unprepared for the raging fuckfest they discovered.
The bouncer shook his head in disgust. “I’ll tell you one thing. I sure as shit ain’t helping mop up after this.”
The ticket seller laughed, and both men detected a strange but intriguing scent in the air. Their eyes met and lingered.
Out there amidst the writhing bodies, Trey and Jackie lay spooned on the dance floor, drained but thoroughly satisfied, the sounds of sex surrounding them.
“Trey?” Jackie asked.
“Yeah, babe?” Trey replied.
“I know this is my first time in a gay club,” Jackie said, “but is every night like this?”