New You at Midnight

[a hunky personal trainer ends up at a New Year's Eve party full of only elderly, lascivious men, but at midnight, the old guys become muscle brutes while all the young hunks find themselves at a disadvantage]

[muscle growth, twinkification, weight gain, muscle loss, jock-to-nerd]

Jarrod dodged another party guest passing behind him a little too close, a hand just barely grazing his butt. Jarrod smiled politely but it was clear to both of them that the elderly gentleman was acting inappropriately. Only Jarrod seemed to care. He sipped his Tito’s and tonic and headed toward the bar while the silver-haired man shot him a wink.

On the way to the bar, Jarrod dodged too more unwanted advances: one portly gentleman caressed Jarrod’s biceps (exposed by the short sleeves of his polo–perhaps a poor wardrobe choice) while another greeted him by running a hand down the cleavage between his pecs. Jarrod kept mobile, trying to avoid eye contact. Ferris, who had thrown the party, was a good personal training client and Jarrod wasn’t interested in taking the financial hit of losing him, but he didn’t appreciate being molested in his off-time as the cost.

It shouldn’t have been surprising that the guests at Ferris’ party were all–well, just like Ferris himself: wealthy, entitled men in their early seventies who regarded Jarrod’s built body and dimpled face with lecherous eyes. Jarrod had done a bit of sex work in his youth, so he wasn’t new to being objectified, but his sessions with Ferris were on a whole new level. Just getting Ferris to perform a cable crossover while the older man darted his tongue at him or whistled at Jarrod’s beefy ass as he bent over… some days, it made Jarrod want to return to sex work.

And here, at Ferris’ New Year’s Eve party, it was like he was being assaulted by twenty-five different Ferris’. By the bar, however, he saw a man his age who seemed uninteresting in the cliques of older gay men tittering like horny teens. The fact that the other younger man was built like a fridge only made Jarrod more excited to stand by his side.

“Tito’s and tonic,” Jarrod asked the bartender, a well-muscled blonde whose upper-body was clad in just a silk-vest and a tie. Ferris certainly had a type. The bartender winked and started pouring as Jarrod turned toward the dark, large-framed brute with the well manicured beard at his left.

“What you drinking?” Jarrod said, immediately regretting the cliche he’d chosen as his opening line.

“Beer,” the man shot back coldly without looking in Jarrod’s direction.

“Nice,” Jarrod said. “Jarrod Sparks,” he said, offering a hand.

“Cody,” the man returned. Jarrod waited a beat before continuing.

“How do you know Ferris?”

“His son and I were buddies in college. Played football, stayed close even after I went pro. I was in town for the night, Ferris heard I was around and invited me by. Figured I could drink for free.” He finished his beer and ordered another one.

“I’m Ferris’ personal trainer,” Jarrod offered without being prompted.

“Jesus,” Cody scoffed. “That sounds miserable.”

“It’s…” Jarrod wasn’t sure how much he should candy-coat his feelings about Ferris, who, across the large party hall, had just slapped a guest and tossed a glass of wine in his face. “It’s pretty much what you expect.”

“He try to pay you to sleep with him?” Cody asked. “Every so often he tries that with me. Figure a guy who looks like you, in gym clothes… Ferris wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

Jarrod blushed at the compliment. Maybe this New Year’s Eve party wouldn’t be so bad after all!

“Oh, he tries all the time,” Jarrod said with a chuckle. “Never asked me for sex outright, but he’s always trying to get me to train him with my shirt off. One time he bought me a jockstrap to wear while I showed him how to squat. Offered me a grand, too.”

“You do it?”

“A man of my morals?” Jarrod said. They both laughed as they sipped their drinks. “Yeah, but… uh, I took the grand. Guy’s gotta eat.”

Cody laughed. “I don’t blame you.” He set his hand on the bar. Jarrod slowly moved his hand toward Cody’s. The beefy lineman coughed. “Uh, I have a, uh… boyfriend.”

Jarrod exhaled. “Of fucking course you do,” he said. “Still gonna hang close to you, though. You’re the only guy here not trying to grab my dick.”

“Same, buddy,” Cody responded. “Ferris hired that big roided out bodybuilder to dance, too, and they’re still all over us.” He gestured at the dais in the middle of the dance floor where a man shaped like a swollen X awkwardly gyrated his meaty limbs in a set of gold posing trunks, squatting down to let guests tough the rippling abs of his shockingly narrow stomach. Someone slipped a fifty into the strap of his trunks. The bodybuilder struggled to bend his pumped arms enough to snatch the bill.

“Guy’s name is Clyde,” Jarrod said. “I competed with him way back. Absolute freak. Dumb as a brick though. No idea how he’s kept his balls so big. Guy juices like a monster.”

Cody noticed something down the bar. He elbowed Jarrod and gestured. “You think that bartender is gonna accept any of the blow job offers he’s getting tonight? These guys are even more all over him than they have been on us.”

Jarrod turned and watched the hunky blonde bartender leaning forward with a shot nestled between his flexed pecs. The man who leaned forward and slurped the shot back looked to be in his late 80s. The bartender graciously accepted the kiss on the cheek the elderly man gave him.

“He could make a lot of money if he was willing,” Jarrod said. “Seems pretty willing, too.”

“Yeah, Ferris certainly has a type. Always hires pretty blond muscleboys for everything,” Cody said. Jarrod accepted the indirect comment with a smile. “Check out the doorguy. I mean, his head’s shaved, but he’s built like two of that guy Clyde squished together, and you can see from the eyebrows he’s a blonde.”

The bouncer, who stood, arms crossed, in a suit by the entrance, certainly fit the bill. He was like an enlarged version of Jarrod after a quick buzz with some clippers.

“Bouncer’s got some traps for days,” Jarrod admired. “Wish my neck was that thick. Looks like he’s wearing football pads but it’s all meat!”

“Your shoulders are pretty big though,” Cody said, placing a thick paw on his shoulder and giving a squeeze. Jarrod relaxed. He was done wrecking relationships, of course–those days were long behind him–but some affectionate company to ease the sting of Ferris’ creepy friends was just the thing he needed to get through his awkward party.

While Jarrod was deciding between a flirtatious response or something innocuous, the two were distracted by a commotion near the stripper dais. The bouncer had charged into a group of Ferris’ guests grabbing at Clyde’s thong. One of them had wrapped his hand around Clyde’s cock. The bulky bodybuilder looked irritated as the bouncer pulled some of the elderly gentlemen back (hoisting the slight-framed one easily, one in each hand by the collar of their suits). Ferris clucked his tongue as he watched the display from the center of the dancefloor. He clinked his glass and spoke into a small microphone in his hand.

“Ah ah ah, boys! Let’s all behave! We will be keeping our hands to ourselves until AFTER midnight!”

“Heh,” Cody snorted. “‘Boys.’ These guys are all like 75 years old.”

“Young at heart, I guess,” Jarrod said. A passing waiter was handing out glasses of champagne. He paused as he turned toward Jarrod and Cody.

“These are especially for you,” the man said with a feminine lilt. He handed a glass of sparkling rose to each of them.

“Hunh,” Cody said as he regarded the glass. “Everyone else gets champagne except us? What, are we the cheap guests?”

Jarrod looked around. Everyone was holding a glass of sparkling white except Jarrod, Cody, Clyde (who still had a hand over his crotch after the run-in with the aggressive guests), and the bartender. Some of the help wheeled out a huge clock on a large column, counting down the last few minutes until midnight. The tipsy partygoers were already starting to gather to prepare for the countdown.

“So is this how you hoped to ring in the New Year?” Cody asked. “Slapping away dirty old men from your jock?”

Jarrod laughed. “I just figured Ferris was good for an expensive meal and some free booze,” he said. “And for that, mission accomplished. Where’s your, uh, boyfriend, by the way?”

“With the team,” Cody said. “Last season before he retires, I hope. We keep our relationship private while he’s still in the NFL. It’s a little easier now that I’m done playing, but… It’s not like I can travel around with him, showing up at every game like the players’ wives. People get suspicious.”

With one minute left, people already started counting down: “55! 54! 53!”

“That’s a real drag, Cody,” Jarrod said. “Here’s hoping your guy retires in the New Year.” He raised his glass to clink with Cody’s.

“Yeah, that,” Cody said with a shrug, “or I find somebody willing to hold my hand in public.”

“31! 30! 29!”

“What about you? Why are you here alone?” Cody asked.

“Well, I’m kind of… between opportunities,” Jarrod said with a sigh.

“Good-looking beefcake like you?” Cody said. “You gotta have better prospects than a bunch of old guys trying to reclaim their youth.”

“13! 12! 11!”

They watched as the bartender slid out from behind the bar, sneaking out a back door of the hall with an elderly gentleman’s arm linked around his.

“Hopefully we both get at LEAST as lucky in the New Year as those two are about to!” Jarrod said. He raised his glass, staring intently into Cody’s eyes, and the two raised them for a sip.

“3! 2! 1!”

Gold confetti started to rain from the ceiling as everyone cheered. Ferris produced his microphone again, straightening his curly blond wig before addressing his guests. “As promised,” he began, “all of my guests will be receiving a NEW YOU for the New Year! And I believe…” Ferris’ shoulder twitched. He dropped the microphone, then fished it up again. “Ah, I believe… it is about to begin!”

A loud, deep grunt came from someone near the stripper dais–a more gravelly baritone than any of the simpering crowd had made all night. They all heard the sound of tearing clothes, the smash of a champagne flute hitting the ground, and then a guttural growl as one of the guests–the one admonished for grabbing Clyde’s dick–suddenly stood up a foot taller than the men around him. More stitches popped and the man clenched his fists. What had been a shriveled hunched-back man swelled like he was being inflated. Spindly limbs pulsed with sinews. Dark hair sprouted on his head, a beard bursting forth on his face. When it was finished, a hulking Ferrigno-esque brute bounced rippling muscles while an eight-inch cock swung between his legs. His clothes hung in tatters over his body.

“What the fuck?” Cody said.

“This a trick?” Jarrod asked. Ferris had money, sure, but was what they had seen possible with special effects?

Across the room, another higher-pitched shout deepened to a manly base as an old man burst from his clothes, rippling with muscles and a long mane reminiscent of Fabio. Ferris was next, his body blowing up to 6’5” tall and swelling up with brawn. His wig fell and he ran a thick paw through long blond curls that hung down to his shoulders.

The transformations continued, formalwear decimating as more of the aged guests suddenly ballooned into a hulking muscle giant.

“Hey, back the fuck off–” Clyde shouted as two guests grabbed at him, yanking his burly legs in opposite directions like a wishbone. (In comparison to the freakish physiques that had appeared around him, Clyde no longer looked so impressive; the guests were now as massive, if not bigger.) Clyde grabbed onto the stripper pole to brace himself, trying to kick his tree-trunk sized legs free. Then his spray-tanned face took on a sickly hue. He let out a loud belch that caused the surrounding hulks to burst with laughter. Clyde’s glutes flexed, then released as a rumbling fart burst into the air. The bodybuilder looked humiliated and powerless as two men twice his age easily manhandled him as his bodily functions betrayed him. Then the deep striations on his body started to fill in. His face grew plump, his shredded stomaching bowing outward. His body looked like rising dough as his tan faded to pale skin. The gold trunks couldn’t hold very long, snapping and shooting across the room as Clyde’s ass filled out with soft flab.

The bodybuilder was now an obese man, his arm-fat swinging as he flailed. The two men holding him let him go now, laughing openly and pinching his chubby belly as Clyde scrambled backwards off the dais.

“We gotta get out of here,” Jarrod said, turning just as Cody (who stood a few inches taller than Jarrod) suddenly seemed to sink in his spot. His beard evaporated as he shrank, his dark hair growing longer and taking on a copper hue. His wide shoulders collapsed inward, the broad torso filling out his shirt compressing so narrow that his clothes hung on him like a collapsing tent. Cody, now eye-level with Jarrod’s abdomen, looked up at Jarrod with wide doe does, blinking long lashes. Big, burly Cody had shrunken down to a cute little twink of a man.

“Fuck!” Jarrod said, grabbing the reduced football player and slinging him over his shoulder. He hopped over the bar, backing toward the nearest exit as he watched the room, now so packed with gargantuan freaks that it looked like a bodybuilding competition, devolving into pure debauchery. The newly huge men had started pawing at each other, flexing in each other’s faces, arm-wrestling, pushing each other around, and FUCKING–most of the room was engaged in some form of intercourse, the stink of testosterone-soaked sweat and balls filling the air like a fog.

The bouncer had charged into the fray to maintain order, but the guests now towered over him. One of them yanked his shirt up over his head while another gave him a wedgie, lifting him right off his feet.

Jarrod rammed into the exit door, crashing through before slamming it shut. They were in a darkened hallway. Jarrod grabbed a nearby chair and crammed it under then handles, praying it would hold.

“What… what happened?” Cody said, his eyes goign wide at his soft, feminine voice. His pant had fallen off when Jarrod had grabbed him. His shirt looked absurd on him now.

“Fucking Ferris, that fuck…” Jarrod began, but his skin went cold. They heard a bang against the door behind them, causing little Cody to jump, but Jarrod was frozen to the spot as the room seemed to expand around him. A moment later he and Cody saw eye-to-eye. Jarrod grabbed at an unfamiliar gut, ran his hands through a scraggly beard on his face.

“You shrank!” Cody said with both hands at his face. “You… you got fat!”

It was true: while big football player Cody had reduced to a skinny, effeminate man, Jarrod had squashed down, now a bearded chub.

“We have to go!” Cody said as another crash came against the door. The men on the other side of that door were bigger than the largest bodybuilders on earth; that door was only holding them back because they hadn’t fully discovered their strength.

Cody took off down the hallway. Jarrod struggled to keep up, slowed by his girthy legs, his bouncing belly, and the fact that he was winded almost immediately.

“The doors are all locked!” Cody shrieked as he criss-crossed the hallway, trying knobs.

“Maybe… maybe they got too busy with each other that they forgot about us?” Jarrod said, covered in sweat and wheezing.

Cody finally found an unlocked door. He ushered Jarrod in and closed it quietly, just as they heard the event halls doors burst open. Just when they thought they were safe, however, they saw a discarded pair of dress pants and a belt in front of them.

Cody opened his mouth but Jarrod slapped a hand over it. The two huddled as they realized the room they were in–a storage area stacked with chairs and tables–had other occupants. Lying face down on the ground was a buffalo-sized bodybuilder, his massive chest pressed toward the ground, back arched to present his enormous ass.

A skinny, balding man with goofy ears and buck-teeth seemed to be struggling to mount the bodybuilder, humping away at the massive glutes before him although the tremendous size difference between them seemed to be vexing him. While the bodybuilder was nude, the smaller man wore only a vest and a bowtie.

“That little dickie isn’t going to do much back there, little guy,” the bodybuilder roared. “I’m not feeling a thing since we went through our changes! But it was fun at first, though, right?” The herculean man twitched his hips, knocking the skinny guy off his feet. Then the bodybuilder rose to his full height (head nearly touching the ceiling) and loomed over his little suitor. “You wanna feel my pecs though, little guy?” he said, bouncing chest muscles that hung like an umbrella over the wide-eyed gangly man. “It’ll probably be the last time a guy like ME wants to let a guy like YOU touch him!” The smaller man reached up, his little dick shooting to attention as he fondled the sweating, flexing muscles.

Neither of them had noticed Cody or Jarrod yet. Jarrod held a finger against his lips and cautiously backed toward the door, opening it quietly as Cody followed behind. They peered into the hallway. They could hear the hulks rampaging through the building, but none seemed to be in the immediate vicinity.

The two crept out quietly, shutting the door behind them, and then tiptoed down the hall, slipping into a restroom. They locked the door behind them and paused to catch their breath.

“I think,” Jarrod said as he squinted, looking around, “that I need.., glasses or something.”

“Oh my gosh, my butt!” Cody said, lifting up his shirt. While the rest of him had shrunk to a petite 5’ tall, his buttocks were two perky melons, HUGE compared to the rest of his frame. He reached down to touch them and gasped when his hands made contact.

“Are you okay?” Jarrod said, instantly concerned.

“Yeah, they’re just… more sensitive than usual.” Cody blushed, immediately covering up again.

“Are you a top?” Jarrod asked.

“Well… no, I’m not. Everyone thinks I am, but… I’m a bottom,” Cody said, the blush deepening.

“Well, nobody will wonder about that now,” Jarrod said. The two giggled together, leaning together for comfort. The two formerly masculine men caught themselves, struggling for composure.

“So, like, did Ferris just want to humiliate us?” Cody asked. “Make us small and helpless?”

“I think he wanted to humiliate poor Clyde,” Jarrod said. “I wonder how he’s doing back there.”

“It’s weird,” Cody said. “It’s like… this should FEEL wrong. Like, I’m not supposed to be so… small. I know that. But it feels… comfortable.” His hands went down to his big buttocks and he moaned.

Jarrod stood up, only able to see his face in the mirror. He had never seen the chubby bearish little man in the mirror, but somehow he recognized the image. “It seems whatever Ferris did to us changed us INSIDE as well,” Jarrod said. “Damn, wish I had my glasses,” he said, despite the fact that he’d never owned glasses.

“Oh gosh, my boyfriend!” Cody said, a hand clapping to his mouth. “When he sees me… he won’t even recognize me!”

“Maybe he’ll like having a version of you he can toss around a little?” Jarrod said. Cody blushed again, a smile emerging from the shock on his face. “Might be a nice little change. What about me, though? You think anyone is going to hire me to train them now?” He reached down and lifted his gut, letting it fall down.

“I think it’s… cute…” Cody said. He ginerly reached out and rubbed Jarrod’s stomach. Jarrod moaned; he had never felt so desperate for touch, for comfort, in his life.

“Your… boyfriend…” he said as he started moving closer to Cody. Nothing remained in the angelic face before him of the thick grizzly man he’d fallen for during the party, but he was still insanely attracted. Would he ever have allowed himself to get close to a man this shy and pretty if he were still a cocky musclestud?

“I need this,” Cody said, grabbing Jarrod’s hands and guiding them to his ample rear. “Better you than those big freaks.”

“Yeah, true,” Jarrod said. They heard heavy footsteps thundering past–no doubt, elderly men eagerly trying out their new muscles, overwhelmed by possibility and desire despite all common sense.

Suddenly the two were intertwined, shedding their shirts (all that remained of their clothing from before) and exploring each other’s bodies (and their own) for the first time. Despite the circumstances, despite the cold bathroom floor, they embraced deeply, ground their bodies together, and it wasn’t long before both of them were moaning. Jarrod’s dick was a stumpy fraction of its former glory, but he still pumped it vigorously into the warm cushion of Cody’s ass.

Jarrod was so lost in the pure ecstasy of the moment that he almost didn’t realize when Cody’s smell had changed. The soft, pretty body beneath him suddenly grew thicker, hairier. Cody didn’t seem to notice when he had regained his former NFL lineman stature, still tweaking his nipples, licking his lips and letting out high-pitched shrieks despite being over 300 pounds of muscle once again.

When Jarrod came, he felt his old body returning with each pump from his balls. His shoulders widened, his body becoming more solid. Cody seemed to shrink, but in reality Jarrod was just catching up in size with the big brute. When it was over, the two were their large, muscular selves again, although now intertwined, softly kissing each other and savoring the feeling of their flesh pressed together.

“Fuck,” Jarrod said, pulling out of Cody with a resounding POP.

“Wow, when you were growing back,” Cody said. He began to blush, the way he’d done so easily when he was small. “The feeling of your dick getting bigger… wow. Nothing like it.”

“That was… incredible,” Jarrod said. They grabbed the only clothing they could find in the dark–their shirts–and held them over their crotches as they headed to the door.

“You sure you want to go out there?” Cody said. “They’re still pretty giant, even compared to us now.”

The door suddenly burst open. Neither of them recognized the sweaty, heaving body that had to crouch and turn sideways to fit through the door. “Did you two think you could hide from me ALL night?” The voice pitch was much deeper than either of them knew, but they each recognized Ferris almost immediately.

“You sick fuck!” Cody said, balling up his fists and preparing to throw blows. “You think you can just dose us with that shit? What gives you the fucking right?”

“You’re fired as a client, by the way,” Jarrod said. “No refunds for your remaining sessions, either.”

Ferris laughed maniacally, pounding his fists against his chest. “You think I need YOUR help, you puny wimp? I could snap you in half right now!” Ferris roared, flexing all of his muscles and stomping the ground so hard the earth shook. “You just wait until–”

Ferris’ change happened almost instantly, like a balloon stuck with a pin: one moment he was a rippling steroid freak, the next he had shrunk back down to his withered, aged self. “No!” he said, clamering backwards as he tried to cover up his body. “It was supposed to be permanent! PERMANENT!”

Cody and Jarrod pushed past him with ease, walking into the hallway holding hands. A door up the hall swung open and the bartender, built and hunky once again, strutted out, still wearing his vest and bowtie. “I’m keeping the money, by the way,” he said to the sniveling old man behind him.

Clyde emerged from the double doors at the end of the hall, once again in champion bodybuilding condition (although naked, just like the rest of them). Behind, a cadre of nude old man whimpered and cried as the doors slammed shut on them.

“You guys got any other clothes?” Clyde asked Jarrod and Cody.

“Nope,” Cody said. “I think our shit’s still in that room.”

“You don’t want to go in there,” Clyde said. “Place is COVERED in jizz. Fuck it. I might have some gym clothes in my car.”

“Breakfast?” Jarrod recommended.

“I think I might go easy on the carbs,” Clyde said, rubbing a hand over his veiny eight pack, “but yeah, I could eat. In fact, breakfast is on me. Those rich geezers tipped the shit out of me before I, y’know… got all jumbo-sized.”

As they headed to the door, none of them ashamed of their nude states, Clyde glanced at the two men flanking him. “Shit, did you two fuck?”

Jarrd and Cody blushed and shrugged.

“Damn! I mean, I saw some hot muscle sex tonight, but I would have killed to see that.”

“Let’s debrief over omelettes,” Jarrod said. “And let’s all agree never to accept anything from Ferris ever again.”