5 Days of Indulgence

[6 Word Request: Gavin Free Slowly Twinks Blaine Gibson]

[Twinkification]

Day 1

Blaine woke to the sound of waves lapping the beach outside his window, but he didn’t rise from his bed until he heard the tinkle of a bell at the suite’s door. He slipped the resort-provided robe over his nude muscular form and tied the belt tightly. “So soft,” he commented as he observed how the robe accentuated his wild shoulders and his muscular ass. “Everything on this island is so fucking nice!”

Blaine found Gavin, his suitemate, rubbing his eyes and plodding through the living room as well. “Hell of a night,” Gavin said with a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve slept that good in a long time!”

Blaine stretched his big body for a few seconds before thumping his hands against his chest. “Good god,” he said. “I’m indebted to you forever for taking me on this trip,” he said. Blaine had been late to the airport and was the only one on the little seaplane that took him from the mainland to this tiny island. He arrived at night, assuming that his sole occupancy of the flight was due to his tardiness. “This flight was reserved specifically for you,” said the pilot. “We treat our guests right!”

Outside their door were two trays covered with chrome lids. Blaine lifted the lid off one and saw a pile of steaming pancakess topped high with whipped cream, syrup and butter drooling over the edge of the stacks and collecting in a cloudy pool on the plate. Gavin and Blaine grinned at each other and hurried to the patio to enjoy their breakfasts.

“This is paradise!” Blaine said as they watched the sun rise and ate their pancakes. He sipped the green smoothie, smiling when he detected a familiar musky taste. “Shit, is there weed in these smoothies?”

Gavin smiled blissfullly. “There’s weed in everything here. Honestly, I thought I would be lonely the two days before you got here, but I’ve just been in a nice comfy stupor the whole time.”

Blaine shrugged his big shoulders, starting to feel a little giddy and warm. “I can’t complain about that!”

Under each of their plates was a little menu. “Holy fuck, I can order ribs if I want?” Blaine said. “And you said room service is included?”

Gavin shrugged and ran his fingers through his beard. “Yeah, there’s a reason they call this club ‘Indulgence.’ There’s a gym here if you want to check it out.”

Blaine smirked as he chomped on a soggy mouthful of pancakes. “Where are the women? I’m looking to get a little wild in the sack this week.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow. “They said the women don’t get here for another week, I guess. No female guests scheduled to arrive until seven days from now. Think you can hold out that long?”

Blaine leaned back, now in a cozy blear from the THC slowing his brain down. He rubbed a hand over his sensitive pecs, smiling. He could feel his chest hair through his shirt; he hadn’t been able to shave before he left. At least now he had plenty of time to do it. “I hope they’re ready. When they show up after a whole week…” He licked some syrup off his lips. “I hope you don’t mind me jerking off in the suite!”

Gavin smiled. “Just keep it to your room, studbucket,” he said. Then, with a smirk, he added, “Although I won’t complain if you leave your door open.”

Blaine took a deep breath. “You wish, buddy,” he said. He was so relaxed, he felt like he could whip his dick out right there and start jerking it in front of Gavin without a second thought. In fact, he didn’t think he would say a word if Gavin did the same thing.

What a weird thought, he paused, but soon his molasses-slow thoughts had slid to something else. “I think I may just spend all day fucked up,” he said. The room service menu had three dozen frozen drinks. “I’ll start off with a Mango-Kiwi Collider. Whatever the fuck that is.”

Pure paradise.

Day 2

When Blaine woke, he found his dick tenting the sheets, pointing up at his chiseled abs. The sheet was damp and sticky, plastered to his drooling cockhead. He took a deep breath and savored in the quickly fading memories of his dreams: sex, in every different way, had danced in and out of his head all night.

He hadn’t had a wet dream since he was a teen, and yet there he was, peeling a sheet soaked in multiple loads off his sweaty body. He couldn’t believe he was still horny! His whole body tingled when he grabbed his cock. He heard the tinkling bell at the door, but didn’t want to walk out there with a dick this hard. His whole body jerked when he grabbed his cock. He had to bury his face in a pillow when he knew he was about to cum--he moaned like he’d been balls deep in somebody!

Gavin had the breakfast trays set up on their patio when Blaine finally emerged, having showered off all the sweat and scrum. Blaine had a shaker in his hand, chugging it as he headed to the door.

“Hey, big guy!” Gavin said, motioning to the steaming food on the two trays. “French toast and omelettes! Come get some!”

“Sorry bro!” Blaine called as he walked out the door. “I feel like a lump after yesterday. I have to go get a lift in.”

Outside their room he saw a pretty blonde guy walking by with a room service cart. He flashed Blaine a smile and a head nod. Down the hall, Blaine saw a built guy with a shaved head emerge from a room with a dolly of cleaning supplies. Even the maids here were male! He hadn’t seen a woman since the pilot who dropped him off. Only six more days until he could finally get a girl up in here!

The gym had no door handle; just a flat black screen. He placed his hand on it and the door slid open. “Welcome. Blaine. Gibson.” Said a synthesized voice. This place was high-tech as fuck!

Two steps into the gym, Blaine found himself enveloped in a dense fog of weed smoke, so thick he couldn’t see. He choked on it, waving his hands to disperse it. It was thirty seconds before it cleared enough to see its source: a bodybuilder with shaggy dark hair with a three-foot green glass bong in his hands. He looked at Blaine with lazy-lidded eyes and offered the bong, which Blaine declined. He couldn’t believe he was already turning down getting high on his second day!

The bodybuilder stood up and Blaine felt the skin on the back of his neck tingle: the guy was HUGE! He was two inches taller than Blaine and looked like he was built from horse parts. Every part of his bulging body flexed and rippled as he moved, all of it shown off by the tight singlet he wore. Blaine hadn’t expected he’d be the biggest guy on the island, but he didn’t realize big ogres like this beast would be kicking around. When chicks finally showed up, he hoped he wouldn’t have to fight this mule for the quality tail!

Blaine couldn’t believe the dumbbell rack went up to 130s. There were four deadlift platforms and 8 squat racks! This place was better equipped than his gym back home. About a dozen other island-dwellers were working out at the same time. Most of their bodies were built just like his: cut, big pecs, shredded abs, wide beefy shoulders. A little pile of muscle waddled around in spandex, his pec shelf so deep he could have balanced a row of Mango Kiwi Colliders. Where were the guys built like Gavin? Blaine wondered. Probably in their rooms crushing french toast, he chuckled.

The air was hazy with smoke; the big guy wasn’t the only one smoking weed. By the water fountain Blaine saw a tray of gummy bears with an index card that just read, “Enjoy!” He had no doubt they were edibles, but was already high enough from the ambient smoke that he didn’t need any more.

After a few sets, Blaine realized he couldn’t focus. His rest periods were five minutes or longer, and he was losing drive about five reps into his sets. “Jesus,” he thought, “how are any of these guys working out while they’re this high?” Much longer in the gym and he would be more stoned than he was comfortable with. He spotted a sauna near the locker rooms. Maybe hot steamy sauna air will clear my head?

The big fella Blaine had met at the front door was the only one in the sauna, but his wide, thick body seemed to take up much of the bench. Blaine sat on a side wall, too buzzed to make small talk. He couldn’t help but gawk when the bodybuilder moved his towel and a massive cock flopped free--easily three inches longer than Blaine’s decently-sized 6 ½ inch piece.

“Haven’t seen you around,” he said, extending a sweat-soaked palm that seemed twice as thick as Blaine’s hand. “I’m Dirk. First day on the island?”

“Uh…” Blaine said, struggling to put words in order. “Second. Yesterday I just vegged out in my room. Played video games. Ate food. Laid around.”

Dirk chuckled. “I did that for first five days I was here! I was all worried about bloating up but I actually lost 6 pounds. No idea how. That’s why I’m here. Figured I can gain that weight back if I hit this place hard twice a day.” Dirk’s mitts floated to his massive pecs seemingly of their own accord. He grabbed handfuls of his chest muscles like he was testing fruit for ripeness. His left hand tweaked his nipple. Dirk’s big dick twitched and he moaned.

Blaine turned away, uncomfortable with this clydesdale fondling himself so casually.

“I’m a personal trainer,” Dirk rumbled in his low voice. ““One of my clients got this trip for me. Had to be pricey. We have to share a suite but it’s a small price to pay for living in paradise!”

Paradise isn’t sharing a sauna with a horny rhino, Blaine thought. He returned Dirk’s fist bump as he passed and headed for the door.

Outside the gym, Blaine finally took a deep breath of clean air. When he closed his eyes, he felt like he could feel the earth turning. “Fuck, I am HIGH!” he said, dropping to his knees, hands on his head.

“Mr. Gibson!” said a lantern-jawed guy with a crew cut and an Indulgence-Staff polo shirt. “Did you get disoriented? Let me take you back to your room!” Blaine tried to resist the aid but the guy was built like a Navy Seal. He yanked Blaine to his feet suddenly had him moving.

Blaine glanced around at the island as if it were the first time he was seeing it. “Fuck, I did get really lost…” he moaned. Back at his suite, he stumbled through the living room, grateful Gavin was out. He faceplanted his bed and dissolved into is cool stillness immediately.

He dreamt that he was naked, an iron shackle around his neck. To his right he saw big Dirk, also naked and chained, trying to ignore the men surrounding him. They tweaked and prodded him like he was cattle, lifting his dick to feel its heft and slipping a finger up his ass without ever acknowledging he was a person.

Blaine knew he should be horrified, but as he looked down he saw his dick rock hard, drooling cum.

It was dark when Blaine woke. “At least,” he said groggily to no one, “I’m sober...ish.” He stumbled into his shower and let a blast of cold water revive him. As he rinsed lather from his body, he paused.

His chest was totally smooth--and silky soft. When had he shaved it? He tried to think. Maybe he blacked out on his first day there. He stumbled from the shower, leaving puddles of water as he rummaged through his toiletries. The razor and shaving cream he bought for the trip were unopened. His hand ran over his bare pecs, over his abs, to his groin… which was also bare.

He stared down in shock to see his cock and balls totally bald, as if they’d never had hair. “What… the fuck…” Trying to remember the last time he took stock of his pubes made his head spin.

After toweling off, Blaine stumbled into the living room--where Gavin tackled him. Gavin giggled and grinned, exuding a cloud of sweet boozy breath. Blaine’s smaller buddy was only able to take advantage because he caught Blaine off guard; the bigger, stronger man easily asserted his dominance and flipped Gavin off him. He pinned his suitemate’s shoulders and knees to the ground.

“You had to think that wouldn’t be that easy,” Blaine said, smiling down at Gavin, who didn’t seem to mind having Blaine on top of him. “Man, you look like you’re really enjoying having me on top of you!”

Gavin squirmed, unable to escape Blaine’s pin. “Yeah, well… While you’re up there... I’ve, uh... got something you can… ride…” He continued to struggle despite being desperately trapped.

“Yeah, right,’ Blaine said. He hopped to his feet. “There’s a ton of booze on this island, but not enough to make that happen--and even if it did…” He gave Gavin a shove that knocked the little bearded guy to the couch. “...you’d be the one doing the riding, little buddy.”

Day 3

Blaine awoke to fresh gym clothes outside his door with a tag that read, “Enjoy your workout!” They were pretty basic--just a black tank top and red shorts with the Indulgence logo on them--but he appreciated the amenity.

He was happy to see Dirk at the gym again. It felt good to recognize someone on this island--which, despite all of its pleasures, still felt alien to him. After a few frustrated sets, Blaine sighed--was it possible to get a good workout on this island without getting high?

“Just lean into it,” Dirk recommended, closing his eyes and gently pawing at his own body. “Just get as stoned as you’ve ever been before--then get a little more stoned! I didn’t think I could put on size in a gym where the air is more pot smoke than air, but... “ His voice trailed off, his thought evaporating in the silence.

Back at his room, Gavin was eating lunch cross-legged on the floor, a greasy Xbox controller in his hands. “Why are you so cranky?” he asked.

“The gym here…” Blaine said, collapsing into the couch. “Everybody there smokes weed. It’s a serious hot box situation.” He looked around their suite. “Is there coffee in the kitchen? I need some serious energy.”

“Order it from room service,” Gavin recommended.

Blaine regarded the dark cold brew that finally arrived with suspicion. “You think there’s any weed in this? Or like… LSD? Molly?”

Gavin grinned, his own glazed look advertising just how comfortably buzzed he was. “Look, big guy, this is a VACATION. You’re supposed to be fucked up. But let me check the menu…” He scanned the laminate intently. “Looks like it’s just caffeine and meth. You’re good.”

Blaine shoved his buddy before chugging the cold brew back. He couldn’t escape the idea that Gavin felt heavier--although that would make sense, the way Gavin had been eating the past three days.

“You know what’ll really clear up that head? Let’s go for a swim--in the ocean!”

Blaine had finished the cold brew without taking a breath. “I’m down!” he said, hopping to his feet. In his room, he unzipped his suitcase--still unpacked after three days--and fished out his swimsuit.

It felt unfamiliar as he pulled it up his legs--far too roomy. It used to huge his waist, but now it hung loosely. He pulled the drawstrings tight but the front still hung low that it showed off his denuded groin. “What the fuck?” he said aloud.

He still looked the same in the mirror--didn’t he?--although now that he realized the swimsuit didn’t fit, he started digging through the rest of his clothes. The gym clothes the resort had left for him fit fine--but the clothes he wore the day before were just as baggy as the swimsuit.

“Gavin?” Blaine said, leaving his room bottomless. “Gavin, am I losing weight?” he said.

Gavin looked him up and down, his eyes spending a little too much time on Blaine’s exposed cock. “You look fine to me…” he said, the right side of his mouth curling up. “Why?”

“My fucking clothes don’t fit!” Blaine said.

“After that first day, you really haven’t eaten much out here,” Gavin said with a shrug. “Are your trunk really that baggy? They have a gift shop you can grab a new pair in.”

Blaine slid back into the Indulgence-brand workout gear--the only clothes he had that fit, now. The gift shop was next to guest services; every other vacationer he passed with either stumbling drunk, giggling high or a combination of the two. He hated the fact that he was the only one there not having a good time.

“Are these all you have for bathing suits?” Blaine asked the clean cut redhead tending the gift shop. Blaine gestured to the rack of speedos in various sizes but only bright colors. “Don’t you have anything a little less… revealing?”

The redhead shrugged and smiled. “Sorry. Our guests usually like to… let it all hang out. We have a fitting room if you want to try a couple on.”

Blaine imagined squeezing his big ass into one of the neon pink or purple speedos. He didn’t like the idea of having his ass and bulge on display, especially with no women on the island.

“Fuck it,” he said as he stormed out of the gift shop. “I’m swimming in these.”

Day 4

Blaine was just as shocked to read the numbers on his bathroom scale--he had lost 50 pounds!--as he was to run into Gavin in the living room to find he was looking UP at his formerly shorter suitemate.

“What the fuck!” Blaine cried. His voice sounded shrill and high-pitched; he couldn’t clear the croak from his throat. “Dude, I’m sick or something… like really sick!”

Gavin grabbed Blaine by the shoulders and measured the now-shorter man against him--Blaine’s eyeline was level with Gavin’s chin. He turned Blaine around, examining the little man whose robe looked ludicrously large on his much smaller body. “Dude, it’s like… your muscles all deflated!”

Blaine couldn’t deny the assessment. Every part of him--except his ass, that is--had withered overnight. He was still in decent shape, but his body lacked the impressive bulk he had spent years cultivating. He looked average at best. Combined with the loss in height, Blaine felt like a reedy little nothing. He hated how easily Gavin shoved him around, how small and light he felt in his friend’s strong grip.

“Let’s get you to guest services. We need to get you home,” Gavin said.

The tan man at guest services looked like a ken doll come to life. “Curt”--as his nametag read--ran a hand through his well-coiffed blonde hair and shrugged broad shoulders. “This is a really unfortunate time to be having an emergency, Mr. Gibson,” he said, peering over the counter at Blaine. “One of our seaplanes is under repairs and another is off-island at the moment. It appears someone else had a medical emergency last night. We won’t have another incoming plane for three more days.”

“Fucking look at me!” Blaine said, holding up his hands. The sleeves of his robe were so long that they flopped over. “I’ve got some freaky island sickness or something! Dysentary or… worse…” He couldn’t believe the calm voice the man responded to Blaine’s frantic shouts.

Curt came around the counter and guided Blaine by the shoulder like he was shepherding a child. “Look,” he said, “we have a doctor on the island. He’ll see you right away.” He held up a hand as Gavin followed. “We’ll make sure he gets back to your suite okay. Trust us.”

Dr. Henstridge was a portly bearded man who would have looked like an old sea captain had it not been for his white coat and stethoscope. He eyed Blaine suspiciously when Curt left the room.

“So what are your symptoms?” he said in a grizzled voice.

“I’ve lost like sixty pounds!” Blaine squeaked. “And I’m like six inches shorter! This robe used to fit me the first day I was here!”

Dr. Henstridge made a few notes on a clipboard, then gestured for Blaine to hop on the scale. He noted Blaine’s height and weight. “And anything out of the ordinary happen since you’ve been here? Any bad insect bites? Eat any wild plants? You didn’t run into a jellyfish, did you?”

Blaine shivered as Dr. Henstridge yanked the robe from his body in one tug. He looked down at his scrawny nudity, shielding his cock and balls--which had shrunk just as much as the rest of him--with his hands. “Would a… would a jellyfish even… do this?” Blaine could barely get the question out as Dr. Henstridge’s rough hands held a cold stethoscope to his hands. The big fingers prodding at his body, gripping his little balls between three fingers as he asked him to cough…

Blaine licked his lips. His breath was ragged. Something about the feeling of Dr. Hestridge’s hands on him, just like Curt’s before him, and Gavin’s before that… his skin was tingling. He started to feel hot as Dr. Henstridge’s hands dug through Blaine’s back, making notations. He could barely hear the questions Dr. Henstridge was asking. He couldn’t deny he loved the feeling of a man’s hands on his body no matter how hard he tried. He closed his eyes, leaning into the touch…

“OH!” Blaine cried as his body seized. His dick jumped, a small spurt of cum shooting from it.

Dr. Henstridge chuckled and made some notes. He handed Blaine a box of tissues from his desk. “We’ve got another one,” he said into the intercom on his desk.

“Another one?” Blaine said as he wiped himself clean, his whole body hot with shame.

Henstridge was getting something out of his desk. “Let me ask you something: how many times have you ejaculated since you came here?”

Blaine winced. “None!” Then his eyes sank to his feet as he considered the past week. “Well… actually, a lot…”

“And how many times was it involuntary?”

“...a lot…” Blaine answered, his voice a whisper.

“Just as I thought,” Dr. Henstridge said as he rounded the desk. He snatched a tissue from the box and wiped dampness from Blaine’s eyes. He hadn’t even realized he had been tearing up. “See, your body is reacting to something on the island and hemorrhaging your male hormones. Essentially, you’ve been spraying out all your masculinity, all your virility, and it’s having a physical effect on your body.” With one hand he grabbed Blaine’s little dick, and with the other he attached something so quickly Blaine couldn’t react until it was affixed and locked. He grabbed at the little plastic cage that tightly enveloped his cock and balls.

“...the fuck is this?” he rasped.

“It’s to prevent you from having any more spontaneous orgasms, like the one you just had. In time, your body should accumulate enough potency to return to your normal size…” He shrugged. “At least, we think so.”

“I want off this island now!” Blaine said, stomping his foot. Dr. Henstridge roughly shoved him into the chair behind him.

“Have a seat, sir,” Dr. Henstridge said. “I won’t tolerate outbursts in my office. If you want help, you’re going to have to remain calm.”

“No way!” Blaine said, leaping to his feet. Dr. Henstridge grabbed Blaine by the shoulders and effortlessly pushed him back into his seat. Blaine couldn’t believe it; he’d been trying to resist, but the doc hadn’t even noticed.

“We’re going to prescribe you something that’s going to make it difficult to become erect,” he said as he scribbled onto a little pad. “I know you probably won’t like the sound of that, but trust me, it will make that little device more comfortable.” He smirked at Blaine, who had both hands covering his plastic-clad member. “See? You’re already starting to get hard now, aren’t you?”

Blaine couldn’t argue. He could feel his little dick painfully trying to plump within the containment device.

Later on, Gavin knocked on Blaine’s door. “Room service just sent up huge ice cream sundaes,” Gavin offered. “I didn’t even ask for them. Seriously, there’s so much out here. Come help me finish these off!”

Blaine finally relented after a little more prodding. The shirt and shorts the resort had given him before he left Dr. Henstridge’s office fit better than any of his own clothes, but they were still a little loose, accentuating the reediness of his shrunken form.

“Mint chocolate chip,” Gavin smirked as he dug a spoon through his. “Oh, and weed. Of course there’s weed in it. There’s weed in everything here!”

Blaine sighed and shoved a massive spoonful into his mouth. He might as well get good and high after all that had happened.

“What did the doctor say?”

Blaine shrugged. “They said they didn’t know,” he lied.

Gavin nodded thoughtfully. “You know, there were way less guys on the beach today. I wonder why.”

Day 5

Gavin opened Blaine’s door a crack and peered in. “Hey big guy,” he said gently. “I’ve got breakfast out here for you too.”

Blaine just moaned and pulled his pillow over his head.

“There’s coffee too! Really strong. It’s all out here on the deck.”

Blaine was shaky as he climbed out of bed. The medication they had given him most certainly stopped him from getting hard, but it didn’t stop his wildly sexual dreams. His bed was soaked and sticky, his heart pounding with frustration, his body exhausted by unsatisfied need.

Coffee splattered against the table as Blaine held the cup. He slammed it down and tried to breathe.

“How do you feel?” Gavin asked, reaching across the table to put a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. It felt bigger than it should have, reminding Blaine just how much he had lost.

“I feel...” he said, his voice now unrecognizable, “...fucking horny!” It sounded ridiculous in his shrill pitch. A wry smile slowly formed on Gavin’s face. “It’s not funny!” Blaine shrieked.

What had been a gentle tingle, deep up his backside, was growing stronger. During breakfast he had felt his lower half twist and jerk as a persistent itch gained intensity in a place Blaine couldn’t scratch.

“Why don’t we take you to the gym today?” Gavin said. “That’ll be just the thing to stop that weight loss. Move some weight? Get a good pump? That’ll make you feel good.”

Between the buzzing in his temple, the hypersensitive spot in his nether regions and his exhaustion, Blaine didn’t have it in him to fight. But he noticed something even worse: try as he might, he couldn’t contradict Gavin.

He wanted to explain to Gavin that all he wanted was to sleep. He wanted to suggest they order room service and get so wasted he had no choice but to pass out. The words formed in his head, but his mouth wouldn’t obey. Gavin looked so much bigger than Blaine now. There was a smell coming off him--was it morning breath? BO? It seemed to be just on the edges of Blaine’s perception, driving him crazy, but something about it made Blaine feel sedate.

Blaine just finished his meal silently, acquiescing to everything Gavin said, and then went to his room to change into gym clothes (freshly delivered, in a size that fit his new body), the whole time feeling desperate to fight but still obeying what Gavin had asked of him.

In his room, with his door still closed, he murmured, “I don’t want to go to the gym, Gavin. Don’t make me.” Then the door burst open.

“Ready, big man?” Gavin said with a grin.

“You bet!” Blaine said. He couldn’t believe how good it felt to do what Gavin wanted.

Blaine searched the gym for any of the big dudes he had seen earlier in the week, but he didn’t recognize anyone. Gavin breezed through a few sets, but Blaine had to strip off plates when it was his turn.

“This is to be expected,” Gavin said, ruffling Blaine’s hair. “You lost a lot of weight! You always tell me at the gym, it’s not about how much you lift, but how hard you went. And look how hard you’re going?”

This was after Gavin had to yank the bar off Blaine’s chest as it slowly sank down despite his quivering, struggling arms. There was a single five pound plate on each side. Blaine was horrified by how weak he was. When Gavin put a 45 pound plate on each side and pressed out a sloppy set of 8, Blaine couldn’t believe how envious he was.

They had lifted together before. Was this how Gavin had felt?

“I’m gonna hit the steam room,” Blaine informed Gavin after a devastating workout. He hadn’t been able to complete a single set; Gavin had to rescue him from each one.

“I’ll meet you there in a bit,” Gavin said, giving a head nod to another lanky guy with glasses nearby. “Gonna chat with my buddies for a quick sec.”

Blaine didn’t recognize Gavin’s bespectacled friend, but he couldn’t help but notice the gym partner hovering near his side: a scrawny, uncomfortable looking little guy buzzing with the same anxious energy tormenting Blaine.

On the way to the steam room, Blaine couldn’t help but notice the entire gym was set up in pairs: each with one average-looking slightly nerdy guy and one scrawny runt (although it pained Blaine to make the assessment, knowing the little guys were all the same size he was now).

In the steam room, saw another of these pairs. The bigger guy, a blonde with a goatee, had his hands behind his head and a relaxed grin. Between his wide-spread legs was a serious piece of hose Blaine found himself transfixed by at first until he pried his gaze away. The blond’s smaller buddy was bald and rocked back and forth in his seat, like he was desperate to be anywhere else.

“C’mon in!” the blond said. “My name’s Erick. Have a seat.”

Blaine sat as far from Erick as he could, pressed into a corner near the door. Something about the guy made him feel uneasy; maybe it was the fact that he looked like he could easily toss Blaine over his shoulder and carry him away. Maybe it was the fact that Blaine’s withered muscles wouldn’t be able to put up any form of resistance. Or maybe it was the fact that the guy had a level of confidence Blaine used to have, but couldn’t muster now if his life depended on it.

“What do you think?” Erick said to his runty companion. “Thirty more minutes in here?”

The little bald guy opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. His mouth slowly shut, then he said, “Whatever you want, Erick.”

“What I want,” Erick said, licking his lips, “is a pina colada, to be honest. A nice big one, with a huge mountain of whipped cream on top… What do you think, can you fit that into my diet?”

“Sure I can,” said the little man.

“Good. Because honestly, I don’t think you pushed me hard enough today. And you’re way too small to spot me. What am I paying you for?”

Little guy rubbed his bald head anxiously and looked at Blaine, silently pleading for help.

Blaine was too busy listening to the sound of Erick’s voice. It was way deeper than Blaine’s was now, deeper than his bald friend’s as well. Something about that deep tone made the back of Blaine’s neck tingle--and that terrified him.

Erick chuckled. “Well, you lucked out, little guy. I was going to send you on a drink run but it turns out I have to piss. Get over here. Be my urinal.”

His little sidekick hopped to his feet and ran to Erick, dropping to his knees with his mouth open.

“Jeez!” Erick said, slapping the bald runt so hard he nearly knocked him over. “I was just kidding! I’m happy to see you were willing to help though.” He headed to the door. “Have a seat and don’t do anything until I come back.”

The silence that followed seemed thicker than the steamy air.

“Are you his…” Blaine started, unsure of how to ask, “...employee?”

“I’m his personal trainer,” chirped the bald guy in a cartoonishly shrill voice. He stood up and reached out a shaky hand. “I’m Dirk.”

Blaine’s eyes went wide, both at the little guy’s name and the fact that, now that he was closer, Blaine could see what looked like a protector bulging out of Dirk’s tight shorts. “You shrank…” Blaine said sadly. Dirk’s noodly body deflated at the statment.

“Yeah,” he said. “I was… cumming too much…” His hands went down to his protector.

Blaine was on his feet as well. He and Dirk were the same height now. As he got closer, he struggled to see the massive, bleary-eyed bodybuilder he had met just days before in the tiny-framed man before him. As he got closer, their protectors lightly touched. Both of the little guys moaned, arching their backs and thrusting out their asses. Just like Blaine, Dirk’s body was skin and bones everywhere but his bulging, pillowy buttocks.

“I can’t… sit down…” Dirk said, shifting uncomfortably as he cocked his head to the side. “It’s like… something inside me won’t sit still.”

Blaine’s breath quickened as the itch in his own ass dominated his thoughts. “It’s like… if I could just hit that one spot, I could relax, but I can’t reach,” he thought aloud.

Dirk’s hands grabbed Blaine’s stick-thin arms. Both shrunken men silently quaked as Dirk pulled Blaine close. Blaine wasn’t even surprised when Dirk kissed him. Deep down he knew it was what they both wanted. Their little fingers searched their bodies as they each humped the other unsuccessfully. Their protectors loudly clanked. Blaine cried out in frustration; he knew cumming was how he got into this mess, but he felt he would soon go insane from need.

A blast of cold air rushed in as the door to the steam room swung open. Blaine and Dirk clung to each other as their eyes adjusted to the light outside.

“See, if you leave them alone, they’ll do that,” Erick said as he marched in and yanked Dirk away. “It’s a comfort thing. They’re about to go through the final adjustment and they’re clinging desperately to what they lost.”

Behind Erick was Gavin. Blaine sank to his knees, humiliated by what his friend had just seen him doing.

“So, I’d guess they find comfort in each other because they’re the same size,” Gavin said as he hooked his fingers under Blaine’s armpits and slowly lifted him to his feet. “I bet being around bigger men just reminds them of what they lost, right?”

“See? You’re getting it,” Erick said. “They’re almost finished converting though. They’ll bond to someone tonight, so you want to make sure it’s you he bonds to.”

“Got it,” Gavin said. He led Blaine toward the door without even acknowledging him. “How many guys have you converted?”

“Dirk here is my sixth,” Erick said, patting Dirk on the head. “Don’t worry, though. I could tell when I saw yours come in, he’s developing just as he should. What was he like before?”

Gavin smirked. He stroked a finger up and down Blaine’s chest. “Bigger, obviously. Really hunky. Confident, lots of swagger, big pretty lips… I’m really happy he didn’t lose those…”

“Good luck!” Erick said as Gavin dragged him out the door like he was steering luggage.

Blaine’s desire to speak was eclipsed by a yearning for Gavin to look at him. He silently screamed for his friend to stop and look him in the eye, to speak his name, to say anything at all. He saw island staff, who now towered over him, smirking at the two of them. They knew what was happening. Gavin knew what was happening! Blaine knew he should be outraged, but more than anything at that moment he just wanted Gavin to be kind to him.

Back in their suite, Gavin finally released Blaine’s hand once they were inside, but he walked into his room and slammed the door. Blaine stood there, drowning in his confusing feelings, before he slowly padded to Gavin’s door and sank to his knees. He raised his hand to knock but for some reason couldn’t go through with it. Sadly, he pressed his ear against the door and listened.

Gavin was listening to porn. He was grunting--he was jerking off! Blaine felt the pulsing in his ass grow to a nearly unbearable level. Sweat was pouring from his body now--why wouldn’t Gavin just invite him in? He had to know how desperate Blaine felt. At that moment, he would do anything for his friend, and there he was, grinding his ass against the carpet, trying unsuccessfully to build up enough friction to scratch the maddening itch.

Hours later, there was a knock at the door. A tall good-looking man handed Blaine a tray. Blaine set it outside Gavin’s door.

“Room service is here,” he said, his voice just a whisper. He was surprised he was able to talk at all.

“Come on in,” Gavin said, and Blaine cautiously turned the knob and tiptoed in with the tray.

“Set it on the table,” Gavin said, and Blaine did as he commanded. “How do you feel?”

Blaine just whimpered. He couldn’t find the words to sum up the desolation he felt.

“I know it was cruel to leave you out there by yourself, but I wanted to see what a little isolation would do to you. Seems all you want to do is hang out with me now. A real change from a few days ago right?”

Again, Blaine’s mouth opened, no sound came out, and it softly closed.

“So here’s the thing,” Gavin said. “I don’t want to be a real monster here. There’s a plane back on the island tonight. You can fly home if you want. Soon as you’re back, you’ll grow back to regular old Blaine. Just press the room service button and they’ll take you to the airport. I’ll remove your protector before you go. Or… you can stay with me for one more week. Next week you’ll go home, go back to normal, but we get a whole week in paradise together.”

Blaine knew the decision should have been easy, but he felt so confused now. “I… I don’t know…” he said. His hands lowered to his little ass. The voracious need would be satisfied, he knew--but did he want the flame to just flicker out, or explode?

“Your call,” Gavin said as he removed the lid from the room service tray: two burgers, two piles of fries, and two thick green milkshakes. Blaine had no doubt at this point that both weed and booze were blended into the thick confections.

A bead of sweat poured down Blaine’s forehead. “Can’t you just… pick for me?” he squeaked.

Gavin smiled. “That’s the beauty of this, bud. I know it’s unfair what I did to you, but having you here like this can only be fun if you actually want it. What do you say? Underneath all your muscles, all your good looks, all your macho pride… What is it you truly want?”

He would be normal again in a week, he knew. He could go home, or he could stay here and explore this strange new desire, and all the perks. Blaine approached Gavin with tiny steps, finally gaining the courage to pull himself up on Gavin’s couch. Blaine handed him a french fry with he hungrily ate.

“Good man,” Gavin said. He handed Blaine an Xbox controller. “Want to game out for like, ten hours?”

Blaine let out a six second sigh, his whole body deflating in pure euphoria. He felt so weak the controller would slip through his hands.

“Don’t worry,” Gavin said, patting Blaine on the head. “By tomorrow morning the process is locked in and you’ll think a lot more clearly. But everything we do will be about ten times more fun.”

Blaine just leaned into the contact, Gavin’s touch sending tingles down his spine. Leaving the island was the furthest thing from his mind.