A drop of sweat dripped off Tolouse's statuesque pectorals, fell through his thick chest hair, and landed in the open mouth of the woman screaming his name. “Lou! Oh God, Lou! Oh, oh! I'm close.”
Those were the words Tolouse, Lou for short, had been waiting to hear. He adjusted his technique to bring himself closer so that they would come together. He was glad she was almost done (again)—they'd been at this for nearly an hour. And while vaginal sex was nice, it wasn't his favorite. He thought of the anal they'd have soon, his huge tool devastating her little asshole.
Then they came.
Harry finished the last of his drink with a grimace, opened his front door, and deposited the empty bottle on a table. The maid will deal with it.
Harold Hoover was unhappy, though most would say he shouldn't have been. At the tender age of twenty he had invented an internet technology that had gotten his little startup bought out for millions, so he was set for life. He'd dropped out of college (what was the point?) and settled into a life of leisure, though still overseeing his company.
He was home from work early that day, having decided to skip out on the afternoon to surprise his wife. She also should have made him happy. She was beautiful—long, curly red tresses topped a body that women would kill to have and men would kill to, well, have. They'd married shortly after Harry came into his money, but they'd never been really happy.
Most of the troubles, Harry thought, were in the bedroom. While she was idolized by anyone who saw her, he was… not. Harry stood 5’3”, and was the proverbial 98-pound weakling. He wasn't much of a man, either. He'd entered puberty late (which had earned him the high-school nickname “Hairless Harry”), and when it came it was not all he hoped for. He still had very little body hair, but the real trouble was his dick, a measly 4” erect.
Harry was trying to salvage his sex life. He walked upstairs, and opened the door to the master bedroom, planning to surprise his wife. He succeeded.
She was naked, on her hands and knees, breasts wobbling back and forth in time with the thumping of the headboard caused by the giant who was violating her asshole. He was a foot taller than Harry, and looked like he weighed more than twice as much—all muscle. Well, not all muscle, Harry saw: he had an enormous penis. Part of it stayed buried in his wife's ass so Harry couldn't be sure how long it was, but at the height of the long strokes it was making Harry could see something twice as long as his. And as if that wasn't enough, the man was covered in the thick, dark body hair that Harry lacked.
Harry was shocked. He'd resigned himself to this day, but it was far worse than he had imagined. The two kept on fucking, so it took Harry a moment to realize that the man was looking at him. Looking at him and smirking.
“Get the fuck off my wife!” Harry shouted.
His wife yelped in surprise, and the man responded “Now why would I do that? We're not done yet.”
She, though, had other ideas. She pulled away from him and said, “Lou, no. Not in front of my husband.” Tolouse stopped and she hid under the covers as he stood up.
“You fucker!” Harry shouted. Tolouse snickered.
“Get out of here baby, I don't want you to see this” ordered Tolouse. Ordered! He was ordering his wife! Harry was so angry he didn't think to stop her as she darted past him out of the room, clutching her clothes.
He was so angry that he did something horribly stupid. He charged Tolouse, and socked him the gut. Or tried at least—Tolouse's gut had other ideas. Harry clutched his hand in pain as Lou just laughed.
“That was a bad move, little man. A very bad move. You see, I don't start fights, but now that one's begun, well…”
Harry had a moment to brace himself before he was lost to the pain. He doesn't know what was happening to him, or for how long, but the next thing he knew he was on the floor. He managed to squeeze out a feeble “please.”
Lou grabbed him by hair, lifted him up and barked “What was that?”
“Please” said Harry, more firmly this time.
“Please what? Please spare my life? Please my wife for me because I am clearly incapable? What.”
“Please. Stop.” Both men paused. “I'll do anything.”
“Anything, eh? Then I think we can work something out. I know just what humiliation a little snot like you deserves.” The man sat down on the edge of the bed. “Suck my cock.”
“Yes,” Harry gulped, “sir.” The monstrous cock was still hard, and now that it was out of his wife, Harry could see that it was at least 10”, with a head the size of an apple. Harry knelt down between those powerful legs, steeled himself, and leaned forward, mouth open.
“But first,” Tolouse interrupted, “strip. I want to see just how puny you are.” Dutifully, Harry rose and shucked off his shirt and pants. “All the way.” Harry cringed, then pulled down his underwear. He was ashamed to be erect. “Heh, I thought she was exaggerating. No wonder she came to me. Come suck off a real cock.” Harry held back his shame and rage. He knelt, and again approached the gargantuan organ.
“Don't feel bad if you can't get it in your mouth. Very few people can. That's one reason I'm so fond of your wife.” Indeed, Harry couldn't get the head in, but he set about licking it. He shuddered a little as he thought about where this cock had just been. But he settled into his task with a grim resolve, sucking the man's frenulum as he used his hands to caress his balls—one per hand.
This must have gone on for thirty minutes. Finally the man said, “alright, you've earned this” and then Harry felt the cock swell as a hand on the back of his head forced his mouth over the gaping piss slit. He cringed, but when his mouth started filling with cum he dutifully swallowed it all—an impressive feat.
Lou wasn't such a bad guy. He was a journalism major, the first in his family to go to college. His family was poor French farmers: they did not have much. He had to work to pay his way and with his body one job was an obvious good choice.
Lou was an exotic dancer. He did well at it, too, thanks to his tall, well-muscled body and huge bulge. He would have made more if he was naturally smooth instead of as hairy as he was, but he wasn't going to complain.
“Exotic dancer” does not mean, Lou always had to explain, a hooker. He did not “turn tricks.” He worked a reputable (as these things go) strip club patronized by gay men and the occasional woman. He just danced—no lap dances, no sex, no anything. That is, until the redhead.
He'd noticed her in the club, night after night, but she didn't look like most of the people there—she just looked sad. He'd have noticed her just for that, but with the body she had he could hardly look away from her.
He tried to ignore her, but she was so distracting, sitting in the front row, frowning. He just couldn't give a good show with her in the audience. And she was there almost every night. Finally, he had to talk to her.
He discovered that she was unhappily married to a rich internet geek. She flirted with him rather overtly, but it would get her nowhere—he was no adulterer. He could never do that to another guy, even if the guy was a wimp.
He changed his mind when she told him how her husband had come into his money. He invented the pop-up ad. Well, Lou didn't sleep with clients and he didn't make men cuckolds, but he would make an exception for such a knockout and someone who so utterly deserved everything bad that could come to him.
That's how Lou found himself where he was that day—coming into Harry's mouth. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Harold sucked down every last drop. A wave of soothing tiredness washed over him.
An annoying voice interrupted Lou's enjoyment. “Alright, you're done. Now will you please get out of my house?”
He doesn't realize my stamina, Lou thought. “I'm not done. Do I look done?” He gestured at his still-throbbing organ. “You're not done either. Now suck.”
Harold sighed and bent down to his task, while Lou repositioned himself for another long wait. Harold obviously didn't have much practice, but he knew how to stimulate a cock. I'll be generous this time, Lou thought, and come after only twenty minutes this time.
Twenty minutes later, he came.
Harry smiled as he gulped down more of Tolouse's cum. Aside from the beating, everything was going according to plan.
Harry wasn't stupid. He knew his wife was cheating on him practically before she did, what with all the time she spent in the strip club. He didn't really blame her, and it was clear to him that dealing with the man would only be a stopgap solution. Harry had to do something about his body.
A normal guy might have just gone to the gym, but Harry knew that wouldn't be enough and had the money to do more. He didn't know of any solution to his problem, but he suspected that with enough money thrown at the problem he could find one. And he was right.
He hired teams of researchers to scour libraries, the internet, and the world for a solution to his problem.
The answer came from Africa. Parts of Africa are plagued by an insect known as the tse-tse fly. A single bite from this pest can enervate a man entirely. Western medicine says that the flies are carriers of “sleeping sickness”, trypanosomiasis, but the locals have another story. They say the fly drains the man's virility and keeps it for itself.
They developed magic based on the tse-tse fly. Harry's researcher, upon returning from Africa, described the magic to him as follows. Drinking a special potion (Harry procured one) would turn one, for a period of 24 hours, into what was translated (unfortunately, Harry thought) as a “sucker.”
When a sucker ingested the semen of another man, if that semen had not been exposed to air, a transference took place from the sucked to the sucker. The first ingestion had little effect, but every subsequent sample from the same man would have effects both stronger and broader. The changes are initially physical, but become more and more mental with each iteration.
The first cum has purely physical effects, transferring one man's height and muscles to the other. The second has stronger physical effects than the first, and also sexual effects, transferring the size of his genitalia. The third had physical and sexual effects that were stronger yet, and also psychosexual effects. The tribal mystic who explained this to Harry's researcher did not know what happened when one went further—they never did it, because of vague legends of bad things. If the trend continued, though, it would have powerful effects in all the previous categories, and perhaps further mental effects.
Given how the magic worked, Harry was fortunate that Tolouse loved getting blowjobs from lesser men to humiliate them. Harry had studied Tolouse too, of course, and planned for his comeuppance in some detail.
So he was quite pleased to have just swallowed a second load of his cum. The first hadn't done much, though actually more than he expected. He'd no longer blow away in a stiff breeze, and he had gained about an inch in height, by his reckoning. Tolouse seemed to have lost proportionally, and his muscles were no longer quite as defined.
But Harry wasn't thinking about the first transformation; he was anticipating the second, which was just beginning.
A feeling of strength and wellness began to spread downward from his head. His chest swelled outwards so that it looked like muscle instead of just ribs. His biceps swelled up to the size of lemons. He was, for the first time in his life, able to see his individual abs. He moaned in anticipation as the feeling of growth spread below his waist. His cock didn't grow, though. He was watching it so intently that he didn't really notice his thighs and calves expanding or lengthening. He now had a nice swimmer's body, and stood about 3” taller than he had at the start of the day, but what he wanted was more cock.
“There's more cock for you here, boy” said Tolouse, in an odd echo of Harry's thoughts. Apparently he hadn't yet noticed that he'd been shrinking, because he grabbed Harry's head and shoved it onto his impressive cock. Its head slid into Harry's mouth with a pop.
Harry took a moment to process this. He couldn't get the cockhead in his mouth before, but now he could. That must mean- he pulled one hand away from Lou's balls to feel his prick, and indeed he had gained nearly an inch. And then he felt Lou's softball-sized testicles shrinking down a little, and hurriedly reached for his own walnut-sized balls and felt them expand.
He caressed his new genitals for a moment before returning to his ministration of Tolouse's cock with newfound vigor. He may be the one sucking, and the Africans might call him the sucker, but Harry knew who the sucker in this situation was. It took twenty minutes for Tolouse to cum again, but Harry was patient.
Lou's climax was not accompanied by the wave of euphoria he expected. This one made him feel downright bad.
He opened his eyes (something he hadn't done in a while) and looked down to see what was wrong. His muscles were gone! Well, not gone—he was still built and put the average man to shame, but it looked like he'd lost at least 30 pounds. And it looked like Harold had gained them. He took this in in a second. He didn't know what was going on, but he didn't like it.
He grabbed Harold by the hair and pulled him up as he stood up. It briefly flashed through his head that Harold was taller than he should have been.
“What the fuck did you—” he was cut off by a wave of intense malaise. Harold was growing in front of him, and he, he was shrinking. The room grew around him, Harold faster than the rest. He looked down into Harold's eyes, but had to shift his gaze upwards as Harry's head grew past his chin, his mouth, his eyes, and finally came level with his own head. The men stood eye to eye.
Lou didn't know what was happening, but he knew who was to blame. He tackled Harold, and the two wrestled on the floor, Harold futilely trying to escape and Lou trying to pin him. They may now be the same height, but Lou still had about 70 pounds on his opponent.
Harold was easily pinned. “I want answers. What the fuck are you doing to me?”
“You took something of mine, now I'm taking something of yours.” Harold jerked himself free, drawing on some unknown reserve of strength. Lou grabbed him to pin him again, but it was harder this time—he had to really work. Then he noticed: his muscles were shrinking again, and Harold's were growing. He struggled, now trying to get away before the situation got worse, but couldn't break free. He watched despondently as his once mighty biceps dwindled. Harold's muscles soon surpassed his, and he gave up.
“That's right, give in to your superior.” Lou wasn't used to submitting to other men. “Now, I think I'll have some of this” he grabbed Lou's cock, which was still erect though about an inch shorter than it should have been, he noticed. Just then, he felt it shrinking more. He watched in horror as he lost another two inches, now down to seven. Harold, he noticed, was up to seven.
They were now the same height, had the same size cock, and Harold was stronger. His penis wilted. “Did you think you could fuck another man's wife and get away with it?”
“No, I—” he was cut off
“Well you were right, you couldn't. You have to pay the price for your transgression, and in your case, that's your body. We're not done yet, so let's get you going again.”
Harold fondled Lou's cock, trying to restore his lost erection. The changes must be caused by me cumming, thought Lou. If I can avoid cumming again, I might get through without any more losses. Lou tried to keep himself down which wasn't hard given that he was despondent over the state of his body.
Harold looked angry. “So, not going to get hard again, are we? I've found one method that almost always gets men hard.” Harold forcibly bent Lou over the bed. “Prostate stimulation.”
Lou's sphincter tightened. He was not a bottom. He heard Harold grab a bottle of lube and start lathering himself up. Lou didn't know whether to be worried or glad.
He felt Harold's rock-hard cock tip pressing against his rosy circle. He clamped down hard, but the newly-large cock pushed harder and soon slid into Lou's virgin ass. Lou was overwhelmed with pain and pleasure. He wasn't enjoying the experience, but for some reason, as he was slammed again and again against the bed, he developed an erection.
“Ahh, much better. But first, I think we'll finish me.” Lou felt the pounding speed up, and after a minute of hastened pounding he felt Harold swell and squirt inside him. He was humiliated.
Harold flipped him over, slipped two fingers into Lou's ass to replace his dick, and started sucking. Lou was overwhelmed by the sensation, and despite his best efforts he came again.
Harry swallowed Tolouse's load, noticeably smaller than the previous ones, and hoped that wouldn't diminish the magic. He removed his mouth from the softening penis and stood in anticipation. He didn't have long to wait. He felt a now-familiar stretching in his bones, and watched as the floor moved yet farther and farther away. He readjusted his stance to keep his feet under his expanding shoulders. He stopped ascending at somewhere past six feet, he reckoned. He looked down to see that Tolouse was now decidedly short (and crying).
Then he felt a wave of power spreading down from his head. He savored the sensation of his shoulders turning to cannonballs, his triceps to footballs, and his abs to cobblestones. He had to adjust his stance once more as his thighs pushed each other apart. He was now as buff as Tolouse had been before the changes, and he saw that Tolouse was now as thin as he had been.
But, he noticed as he looked down past the smaller man, his 7” cock now looked rather small on his frame. That wouldn't last. He gasped as his cock filled with sexual heat, and nearly came as he watched it swell. He grinned as it swelled past twice the size he had known since puberty, finally settling in at the jaw-breaking 10” Tolouse had once had. Tolouse was flaccid, but Harry suspected his penis was now as laughable has his own had been.
Harry awaited the psychosexual effects. He wasn't quite sure, but last time he thought he had gained greater control over the timing of his own orgasm, and better ability to maintain an erection. It was hard to tell when this change happened, but he thought he noticed his cock stiffen yet more.
Harry was concerned about what would happen next. The Africans supposedly didn't go this far, afraid of mental changes. He didn't know how bad they'd be, but it seemed unlikely that they could outweigh his incredible new body. He just wished he could have had this body when he was growing up. If he'd had this package when he was 14 and losing his virginity, think how the girls would have flocked to him. If he'd had these muscles in the middle school showers, think how his classmates would have admired him even more. Wait a minute, he thought, even more? His classmates hadn't admired him. They'd teased him—called him “Thumbelina” because his dick was smaller than his thumb. But, they'd also called him “donkey dick.”
Harry was drawn out of his reverie when he noticed Tolouse trying to slink away. He easily tackled him, then held him pinned against the floor with one foot. “What were you called in middle school?” he boomed.
“What—middle school?” Tolouse responded, confused.
“You heard me. Middle school. Did you have any nicknames?”
Tolouse was slow to respond. “No, not that I remember.”
“Were you called 'Donkey Dick'?”
He hesitated. “Hmmm… uh, yes, I guess I was called that once.”
Interesting, thought Harry. It seems I have some of his memories—and perhaps he doesn't. It wasn't pleasant—Harry had trouble distinguishing whose memories were whose, which was seriously confusing. He thought back on all the times he'd had sex in high school, which was frustrating because he was pretty sure he hadn't. He thought back on all the times he'd fucked his wife—all the times in the past month—while her husband wasn't home.
“Oh you'll pay. You think it's fun to fuck people in the ass with a 10” cock? We'll see about that.” Harry practically threw Lou onto the bed. Harry was now too tall to comfortably take Lou bent over the bed, so he flipped Lou onto his back, held his chest down with one hand, and lined himself up for entry. He swiftly regained his erection, that he must have lost in the confusion.
He didn't reapply lube. It would be a tighter fit, but Lou was in no position to complain. With his penis pressed against Lou's pucker, he caught Lou's gaze and whispered “Enjoy.” With that, he rammed forward. Lou screamed in pain.
Harry was overcome with ecstasy. He'd never felt such tightness. Lou's ass held his cock like a vise. He began thrusting, relishing the sensation. He also relished the power—he had Lou completely subjugated. He could kill him if he wanted—just snap him in two.
Harry was so caught up in the feelings that he almost didn't notice Lou about to cum. He wasn't expecting it so soon, but, seeing that he was about to lose his precious power-bestowing semen, he yanked himself out and dove onto Lou's cock, just catching the first spurts.
Lou didn't want to cum. When he did, he was almost lost to despair. His life was over.
He turned away from Harold, shut his eyes, and tried to ignore the moans of pleasure. He tried not to notice as he shrank down another five inches. He tried not to notice as his body deflated, becoming positively emaciated. He couldn't help but notice as his penis shrank down into his body until it was gone entirely, leaving just pea-sized balls, more embarrassing than having none at all. He cried. The sound of his sobbing nearly drowned out the gloating laughter. Nearly. Lou curled into a tight little ball, trying to escape the world.
Suddenly, Lou woke up. He was in strange surroundings—but he couldn't think where he should be. He found himself lying on a bed, curled up. Looking around, he saw a giant of a man, admiring his body in a mirror. Lou watched as the man struck a most-muscular pose, drawing attention to his Brobdingnagian penis. Who was that?
Lou was disoriented for a moment. He was still looking at Harry—at the demi-god that he had become. But he felt better. He started to look around, but stopped when he saw Harry turn at exactly the same time. That's not Harry. It's a mirror! he realized. He looked down at himself to confirm it. He was greeted by the sight of two of the largest pecs he'd ever seen, row after row of rock-like abs, legs like sequoias, and a monster of a cock staring up at him. He would've cum, except that he didn't want to. He had incredible control of his penis: he willed it flaccid and it shrank in seconds, but when he willed it erect it came up even faster.
How is this possible? he wondered. And then he remembered. He'd been warned—no wait, Harry had been warned—that the magic had effects that became progressively more mental. The last time must have transferred the height of mentality—consciousness.
Then does that mean Harry is… he turned to examine the body on the bed. The runt of a thing, 5 feet tall, emaciated, and dickless, seemed to be asleep. Lou lightly slapped his cheek. No response. Again. Still no response. He shook the body, but it did not awaken. Then he realized: the magic wasn't about swapping, it was about taking. Harry wasn't in that body. Harry was—gone. Lou was momentarily sorry, but Harry had brought it on himself.
Lou looked once more at his new body. He was huge: inches taller than he'd originally been, 60 pounds heavier, and his dick looked almost half-again as long. And he was now entirely hairless, he noted appreciatively.
He looked forward to going back to dancing, thinking how much he'd bring in with this body. But then it occurred to him: he was in Harry's body (sort of), and he had Harry's memories. He was a millionaire; he never had to work again. Harry opened the door and strode out of the bedroom. He was going to find his new wife, and fuck the shit out of her.
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