Chaos Magic at the Comp

[6 word request: Warlock Messes Around at Bodybuilding Competition]

Dex rolled his eyes as Erikur started spraying down the hunky physique competitor, clad only in a single tube stock to cover his manhood. The sheer thirst in Erikur’s gaze couldn’t have gone unnoticed by the ludicrously shredded athlete as dark brown slowly coated his skin. Dex cringed as Erikur went behind the competitor--Brad was his name--and leaned in to take a whiff of the young specimen’s glutes just before coating them with the tanning solution. Dex studied the hunk’s face; did Brad recognize the look in Erikur’s eyes? Did he see the dollop of drool on the side of Erikur’s mouth?

“I have to say,” Erikur said as he finished darkening the last of the man’s rippling physique, “that, despite those broad, muscular shoulders and that incredibly v-taper, your most stunning feature has to be exactly how stuffed this tube sock is…”

Dex’s eyes went wide. Erikur just winked as the young athlete shoved Erikur back.

“You fucking creep,” Brad said, glistening with the still-drying tanner. “Dunno why they went with you fags this year. Where’s the regular tanning team?”

Erikuir winked again as the athlete strutted away, one hand holding the tube sock in place. Erikur raised a hand and snapped. In an instant, the tube sock seemed to deflate in on itself. Brad looked down, shocked, as he pulled the sock away to find that his groin had gone completely smooth like a mannequin. He looked around in a panic, then opened his mouth to say something. Instead of a tongue, Brad’s cock burst from his mouth, semi-hard. He swallowed it back and snapped his lips shut, now shaking as he struggled to figure out what the hell was going on or who to go to for help. One of the backstage medics passed by and Brad opened his mouth to get his attention, but once the cock head poked out from between his lips he slammed them shut again and hurried back into the locker room.

“Now, I bet that’s the first time something sexy has come out of that hunk’s mouth,” Erikur said, blowing on the end of his tanning gun like it had a smoking barrel.

“That curse wasn’t permanent, right?” Dex asked as he peered into the locker room to see what Brad was up to. Moments later, he hustled by in a pair of sweatpants with a hand over his mouth.

“Of course not,” Erikur said, blinking his silver eyes and running a hand through his dark, shaggy hair. “But I’m guessing Brad won’t be winning his pro card today--not if it means revealing his nullified groin! And I’m sure the post-contest interview might be a little awkward, especially if there are children present.”

A tall, strapping athlete approached their tent and Dex started spraying the man’s pale skin into a deep mahogany. The brute was easily a head taller than Dex’s 6’, wearing only a sock just like all the other athletes getting browned that day. His massive musculature was distracting to Dex, but he tried to focus on the job at hand, covering the copious amounts of bulging skin with an even spray. The massive bodybuilder--Dan, Dex suddenly knew as his otherworldly senses informed him that the enormous man was a construction worker, had been big his whole life and was hoping to make bodybuilding a career after today--nodded at Dex after he was fully coated and started to strut away.

“Damn,” Erikur said as he watched the melon-sized glutes bounce with each of Dan’s steps. “I can feel the earth shake when that monster walks. You’re just gonna let him go? You realize, we’re just IMPERSONATING spray-tanners, you doof. Don’t forget the real reason you’re here.”

Dex shook his head. He had until the end of the day to create chaos with his mystical abilities; if he failed to exert enough arcane mayhem, he would lose his powers, and his immortality, forever. “I know, I know,” he said. Truly, he had only invited Erikur along so that he wouldn’t lose his nerve. The idea of just living a banal, mortal life and one day dying seemed so wonderfully simple. He closed his eyes and let some of the power flow; it wasn’t exertion as much as it was relaxing a muscle, allowing the magic to naturally pour through him rather than suppressing it as he normally did.

Just down the hall, big Dan froze, a chill passing over his body. He looked down at himself, adjusting the sock on his dick. Then, in a flash, the huge man was gone. The sock fell softly to the ground. A passing bodybuilding noticed the sock and gently nudged it out of the way with his toe.

From inside the sock, a common housefly suddenly emerged. Perplexed by a few too many legs and a mind-blowing number of eyes, the lost little fly tried to figure out where he was or what was going on. Instincts kicked in and the fly’s wings fluttered on their own. The little insect--once a huge man used to looming over everyone in the room--buzzed around the room, overwhelmed by his unfamiliar body or the thousand insect-senses trying to assert themselves over his tiny brain.

He saw his buddy Rob, who had come backstage to assist him, and headed for the familiar face. Dan tried to scream Rob’s name, to say who he really was, but his strange mouth pieces wouldn’t react the way he wanted them to. He buzzed toward Rob--who looked so unfathomably immense, Dan almost buzzed out of the way in shock--and dodged a swat that would have splattered him against the wall. Now afraid for his life, tiny Dan buzzed down the hallway, desperate to find a window where he could get away. Rob, recognizing Dan’s sock on the ground, picked it up and tried to locate his oversized buddy.

“Not bad,” Erikur shrugged as he peered out of the tanning tent to watch the scene unfold. “But I still say you could get more creative than that. We’re chaos wizards, you and I,” Erikur said, “and despite our half-human heritage, it’s our birthright to really show the mortal world that their silly laws are nothing to beings like us. I don’t know why you insist on pretending to be one of them all year, waiting until the very last minute to use your abilities…” Dex licked his lips as a short, incredibly thick bodybuilder approached. “Wow,” Dex asked as he flex his trigger finger. “How tall are you?”

“5’8”,” answered the waddling bodybuilder, whose body seemed just as wide as it was tall. Erikur bounced his eyebrows at Dex and then got to work.

“Gotta say, big guy,” Erikur said as he sprayed down the brick-shithouse of a man, “there’s a lot of surface area to cover here. We might have to charge you double.” The red-headed fireplug smiled, but his eyelids started dropping. As he held up his arms to Erikur could spray the deep crevices of his musclepits, the thickly built man’s fiery hair seemed to recede. In seconds he was entirely bald, but didn’t seem to notice it. Erikur asked him to turn and he did. “Think you could pry apart these big glutes so I can get between them?”

The big bodybuilder--Seamus was his name, Dex sensed--did as he was told. His eyes had shut completely and his mouth was closed. He breathed loudly through his nose as Dex watched the features on the man’s face suddenly vanish. A strange ridge was starting to form between Seamus’ titanic traps. His head was changing shape, looking more like a mushroom every moment. All the while, he continued holding his cheeks apart until Erikur told them to let them go.

“Now turn around,” Erikur said. “You’re all done. Let’s get a good look at you.” When Seamus finally turned, Dex almost dropped his tanning gun. Nestled between Seamus’ boulder shoulders and hulking traps was a huge cock head, the same size as Seamus’ head used to be.

Erikur grinned at his work, patting the seemingly brainless brute on his big shoulders with a smile. He reached up and started running his hands over the circumcision scar around the big cock head; the slit at its crest burped up some milky white liquid. “And the best part,” Erikur yanked off the cock sock. At the end of his half-hard shaft was Seamus’ head, now tiny, screeching in a voice that was so high-pitched neither of the half-warlocks were able to understand it.

“Aw, there there, big man,” Erikur said, reaching out and tickling the brute’s balls. Seamus’ tiny, furious head suddenly fell silent and got a far-away look on his little face. Erikur reached up and started running his fingers over the huge cockhead crowning this bulging physique. More precum spewed forth, spattering down over Seamus’ protruding chest shelf.

Seamus’ tiny face looked panic as the cock it was attached to started inflating and standing at attention. “What the hell did you do to me?” it squeaked. Erikur just smirked, gave the stiffening cock a few vigorous pumps, then silencing the tiny face by shoving the sock back over him. Erikur gave the cock-headed brute a shove and he waddled out, walking straight into a wall repeatedly since there were no eyes to guide it. Frustrated by his inability to walk around, the muscular man just reached up and started massaging its own cockhead while he flexed his own muscles.

“So to be honest,” Erikur said as he put his arm around his buddy Dex, “I was told by the elders to accompany you today to inspire you. A lot of our people are worried about you. You keep thinking about these pathetic mortals like they matter. We’re here forever, buddy. They’re all just dust motes compared to us. So start acting like it!”

A small crowd was gathering around the cock-headed Seamus, horrified and amazed. Erikur shrugged. “Your turn, big guy. Just reach out with your powers, bro. Do something nasty to one of these overgrown apes! You don’t have to wait for them to come into the tent.”

Dex took a deep breath. Unlike those of his kind, he lived out amongst the mortals and enjoyed the life he had built for himself. He had already used his powers to turn a man into a fly. Why not pick up the pace?

(At that moment, Dex sensed big Dan miles away, still a helpless little fly, trying to wriggle its way out of a spiderweb. The tiny man tried to scream with his clumsy fly-mouth but only managed a screech so high-pitched no one would have heard it. The nightmarish spider started spinning the little fly up. Is this it? Is this how I’m going out? The construction worker thought, resigned to his fate. But then Dex released the curse. Dan’s body expanded with such force that he destroyed the web and the spider. He looked down at his naked, muscular body, looked around the alley he had ended up in, and wondered what the hell he was going to do now.)

*

Marty was just finishing pumping up his delts when he saw Troy, his nemesis, stomping by. The two were the superheavyweight favorites. Marty had weighed in at 275 pounds that morning (two pounds heavier than Troy, who had boasted all day about superior conditioning). Both men felt like giants as they strutted around backstage. Even amongst a cadre of elite physical specimens, they stuck out, and both men reveled in the superiority their size granted. As Troy passed, Marty nodded to the dark-skinned behemoth, trying to act nonchalant as he compared their physiques.

“Looking big,” Marty said as he eyed up his competition. His mouth went dry as Troy flared out his lats and bounced his pecs, winking back at him.

“Sure am,” Troy said as he strutted away.

Marty took a deep breath. No way was he going to let that asshole get in his head! He had this in the bag.

A reporter peeked his head into the pumproom and nodded at the gigantic blonde bodybuilder. “Hey, Marty! In about ten minutes we were gonna get an interview with you if that’s cool. Meet you upstairs?”

Marty nodded and thrust out his chiseled jaw. “Hell yeah,” he thought. The cameras would love him, and the extra exposure may be good for him.

“You seen Troy? We’re gonna interview him right before you,” the reedy reporter said, looking around.

Marty just shrugged. No matter how hard he worked, Troy always seemed to breeze right by him. Not today, he thought. He tossed his pump-up bands aside, checked his tan in the mirror, adjusted his shiny purple posing trunks and pushed past the lesser athletes for the hallway.

At the end of the hallway, Marty saw Troy sitting on a stool that looked cartoonishly small under the massive man’s bulk. Clearly the reporter hadn’t found him yet. He took a deep breath and decided to exercise some elite sportsmanship. Shoulders back, huge chest leading the way, Marty strutted confidently toward his opponent to wish him luck.

When he arrived, Troy looked up at him. Three straight whiskers were protruding from each of his cheeks. Troy didn’t seem to notice their presence, just sipping his water and looking up at Marty with a hint of annoyance on his face. “You got a problem?” Troy said. “I prefer peace and quiet before a show.” Marty was stunned as Troy blinked, his eyes now dark with vertical yellow slits in each.

“Holy fuck, your face!” Marty said. In moments, Troy’s face had shifted to an animal muzzle. A thin black fur had sprouted and was spreading all over the bodybuilder’s bulging body.

“The fuck you talking about?” Troy said, unaware of the changes as his ears became straight and pointy. It wasn’t until he went to sip his water that he noticed his hands had become furry paws. “What the--” He looked down at himself and hopped to his feet, shocked to find himself looking Marty--who should’ve been the same height--in the chest. “What’s happening to me-ow?!” The sound seemed to surprise Troy. His dense muscular physique, now covered in dark animal fur, was starting to soften. He gasped as a tail burst forth from the back of his trunks, flitting around on its own.

Marty just looked around, unable to believe Troy’s transformation but unable to find anyone else to confirm he wasn’t going crazy. “Dude, what… what…” He couldn’t form another word.

Troy’s body was now much rounder, his muscles having dissolved away as he shrank down to just two feet, then a little over a foot tall. He patted his paunchy belly, looked at his furry body, and stared up at Marty with a feline face. The transformation seemed to have stopped, however, leaving Troy a bipedal cat with still slightly human posture and features. It was clearly Troy, instantly recognizable despite his cat-like features. 

“Help me-ow!” Troy scrreeched, the hackles on the back of his neck standing up as he stared at the bright red posing trunks that had puddled on the ground before him as his body had shrunk. He stared WAY UP at Marty, who loomed over him, and hissed as his opponent reached out with a big hand.

Marty glanced behind him, noticing the reporter walking their way. He eyed a nearby locker and decided to throw sportsmanship out the window. He grabbed the Troy-cat by the scruff of his neck and yanked him off the ground, shoving him in the locker and slamming it shut. As the reporter approached, Marty kicked the fallen posers under a stool.

“Excuse me,” the scrawny man with the camera said, looking around. “Someone told me I could find Troy back here.”

Marty shrugged. “No idea. Maybe he got freaked out by all this,” Marty said, flexing his mass for the reporter’s delight. “Either way, I’ll meet you upstairs in just a few to give you that interview.”

Alone again, Marty approached the locker. Troy hissed and banged against the door from the inside. Marty pounded a huge fist against it. “You better quiet the fuck down, kitty-cat,” Marty said. “Unless you want to get dunked in the toilet. I bet that’ll take the fight out of you.”

“You have to get help for me-ow!” Troy shrieked. Marty chuckled at the way Troy’s voice had raised in pitch, making him sound silly and pip-squeaky.

“Maybe,” Marty said, reaching for the latch on the locker door. “Maybe we’ll see what we can do after the show. Once I’ve got my pro-card in hand, maybe THEN we can see about getting you a nice ball of yarn and some catnip. Maybe a collar with a bell on it…” Marty’s gut went cold suddenly. His eyes went wide as whiskers burst from his own face. He reached up to feel fuzzy round ears. Buck teeth protruded from his mouth as his face pushed forward into a snout.

Just as he, too, was shocked by a sudden tail, Marty felt the whole room seeming to stretch up and away. He reached out as he felt himself falling, grabbing onto the locker’s latch. He dangled from it as his shrinking body kicked uselessly into the air, brown fur bursting forth from his formerly smooth skin. Marty then tumbled down, hearing the locker door pop open as he collapsed into his posers. He couldn't believe how huge they were--big enough to house his whole body!

He looked down at himself, shocked to see fuzzy paws where his hands and feet used to be. He could still stand on two feet, but the rest of his body had morphed almost all the way into that of a rat. He squeaked as his nose twitched, scurrying around the now enormous hallway.

When he turned to see Troy looming above him, licking his feeling lips, Marty squealed and started running as fast as his tiny feet would carry him.

*

“What is it with you and freaking animals?” Erikur said as he spied a shaven-headed stud strutting down the hallway. “Give me one moment,” Erikur said. “Purple posing trunks are my thing.” The flawlessly built bald man--”Lance,” Erikur said, licking his lips--headed into the bathroom.

Both Dex and Erikur could see despite being several rooms away. The vascular behemoth squatted on the toilet, ready to drop a little pre-contest weight. With his purple posers around his ankles, the bald man stared down at his pecs. They looked strange--not quite as hard and pumped as they had before.

He bounced the well-developed muscles and noticed they seemed slow to respond. Was his diuretic hitting him too hard? He wondered. His nipples were tingling like crazy! He reached up to one pec and sank his fingers into it--literally.

His eyes went wide as his flesh moved around like pudding. He blinked, unable to accept what he saw as his hand scooped away a fistful of his pec, leaving a smooth tan crater beneath. Numbness had spread throughout his body. With his other hand, he reached out to touch his veiny abs, horrified as his hand smoothed out the definition he’d spent months working on, mushing the abs around like they were made of mud.

“What the fu--” His lower jaw fell from his face, landing in his lap with a bloodless splat. He barely had time to react as he began to sink, his glutes losing their solidity as his body poured like viscous sludge into the toilet. He reached for the metal bar aside the stall but his hands weren’t cohesive enough to grab hold.

The man couldn’t make a sound as he melted into a dark gelatinous sludge that filled the toilet. Moments later, he found himself entirely in the bowl, struggling to speak with a mouth that refused to stay solid enough to make sound. He blinked his eyes, the last of his body to finally melt away. Lance’s face formed from the sludge, trying to rise forth, but he could only maintain the shape for a moment before it melted back into inanimate gel again.

Desperate to use the toilet, a beefy bodybuilder shouldered the door open, kicking aside the discarded posers. “Fucking gross,” he said to the tan mess that used to be Lance. As his hand hit the flush valve, Lance tried his best to speak but couldn’t make a sound as he found himself sucked into the network of dark plumbing.

*

Dex shook his head. “So what’s gonna happen to that guy now?” he asked. “Is he going to wake up in the sewers or is he going to explode a pipe open when he turns back?”

“Who cares?” Erikur shrugged. “When you drive your little mortal automobile do you fret about the bugs that splatter on the windscreen?” Suddenly Erikur grabbed his head as if he were overwhelmed. “Oh my… okay, well, good news, Dex,” he said. “You’re literally one curse away from maintaining your powers! The elders are quite pleased.”

Dex was thrilled. “That’s a relief,” he sighed.

“You know, we do have limitless power,” Erikur said, popping Dex in the shoulder. “You could enjoy yourself. I just flushed a very sexy man down the toilet! And somewhere out there a roided out freak is spraying cum out his neck and piss out his face. This is a party! Think of something really good for this last one. Do some damage! The elders want to see a good show! Make them regret ever doubting you.”

Dex took a deep breath. The elders wanted a show? He would give them one.

*

Chase sauntered off the stage confidently. THe judges had moved him to the center of his weight class immediately. He had aced prejudging! And why shouldn’t they? He glanced at his body in one of the backstage mirrors. He looked phenomenal! He looked like a modern day Arnold, with all the flawless symmetry and aesthetics becoming of a classic physique superstar. That pro-card was as good as his!

He sipped down some water and fished through his duffel bag for his phone. All of the other guys hustled out immediately, no doubt desperate to scarf down a burger and some pizza since it was obvious Chase had won.

“Great job!” said a voice behind him.

Chase whirled around. He was alone in the locker room. He turned back around, about to text his girlfriend back home.

“You made us all proud!” said another voice--a deep whisper. Chase spun around again, adjusting the straps on his posers as he thudded barefoot around the locker room.

“Who the fuck is here?” he asked.

“We are!”

The voice--he knew he was crazy for even thinking it--seemed to be coming from the competition’s poster on the wall. He pulled at the tape on one of the corners, peering behind it.

“God, I must be depleted as fuck,” he said, shaking his head. What had he expected, a hidden microphone?

“You belong up here with us!” said another voice. This time he was sure it had come from the poster, which depicted all of the last year’s winners: Gunther Kempt, the overall bodybuilding champion; Terrence Wilson, the classic physique winner; and Aaron Houseman, the board-shorts-clad winner of the physique category. He stared into their faces.

Gunther winked at him.

“What the fuck,” Chase said, backing away. Terrence made his pecs bounce, then raised his arms into a stunning double biceps posed. The black bodybuilder gritted his teeth and hit an impressive most muscular. Chase did his best to snap out of it--there’s no way this poster was moving!

Aaron had started walking toward him--at least, growing larger in the perspective of the three-foot image. Gunther and Terrence joined him, peering through the edges of the poster like it was just a window. Chase shivered in the chilly locker room air, goosebumps on his polished muscles as he reached toward the image, bewildered by what was going on.

Gunther’s hand darted from the image, grabbing Chase’s hand. The bodybuilder cried out, trying to pull away, but Gunther was incredibly strong. Chase howled as Gunther pulled him in--through the edges of the poster! Chase felt himself yanked into the air as Terrence and Aaron grabbed Chase’s beefy armed and joined in.

“Somebody help me!” Chase cried as he braced his free arm and his feet against the wall. The three poster-bound athletes had hoisted him several feet off the ground. Chase’s oil-slick body couldn’t get enough traction to fight back. “Please, somebody get in here!” Unfortunately for Chase, he had intimidated his competition so much that they had left him alone back there.

Terrence reached out with his other hand and grabbed a handful of Chase’s stuffed posers. He howled as the muscled hand squeezed his manhood, then pulled his posers so hard they tore off. Chase yelped as his cock and balls sprung free, a cold air washing over his most sensitive parts.

Gunther had reached out now, grasping Chase’s other free hand. The bodybuilder couldn’t fight now. He screamed as he was pulled into the poster, his voice cut into silence as soon as he disappeared into it.

*

Dex and Erikur packed up the last of their tanning equipment and prepared to leave the competition. “I couldn’t possibly be more bored,” Erikur said with a sigh. “That’s the thing about these imbeciles who are so proud of their body. Flesh can be so boring after awhile.” Erikur paused at the empty locker room, Chase’s duffel bag and discarded cell phone still lying on the floor. “Oh wait! Is this the room where--”

Dex sighed, then walked into the room. “In all honesty,” Dex began as he approached the poster, “Chase had a history of cheating on girlfriends. With men. He really badly abused some guys in college too. Not a good dude. He got what was coming to him.”

“Poor, poor, Dex,” Erikur said, clucking his tongue. “We don’t need to know how the cattle lived to enjoy how delicious it tastes.”

The two hovered over the poster, which still read, in bold neon letters across the top, “NORTHEASTERN NIGHT OF CHAMPIONS!” Instead of the posed physiques of last years winners, they saw Chase, restrained by three god-like men. Gunther held Chase’s arms behind him, Terrence held one leg, Aaron held the other. Chase’s manhood was fully exposed. The three prior champions seemed delighted by their humiliation of this year’s potential winner, his manhood flying free for everyone witnessing the poser to see.

Erikur reached out and gently rubbed the image of Chase’s penis. “I’m assuming you left it so he can see, hear and feel?”

“Of course,” Dex said. “I’m hoping that’s good enough to satisfy the elders.”

Erikur yanked the poster off the wall. “Let’s bring this out front. I think the folks attending the night show need to see this as well.”