Suggested Story: The Department of Magical Corrections 2

Ben flashed the bouncer his ID, but the guy didn’t take more than a glance at it before waving him into the club. Ben grinned--being a wizard had some perks. He was only nineteen, but a bit of a prodigy. He didn’t have much of a family to speak of, and beyond the compulsory licencing for magical abilities that he’d attended (only because if he didn’t, they would have taken his powers away entirely) he was free to do as he’d wanted. But what Ben wanted, and what Ben got, didn’t always line up correctly.

The Department of Magical Corrections had already had to fix two of his messes before, and the warning he’d been given was that a third infraction in a five year time frame would be enough to warrant a lockdown of his magical ability for three years, along with a mandatory retraining before he could apply for a new license. Ben figured it was time to keep things simple. A little age spell to get him into the club, for instance, since this was both the most popular one in town for the hot young guys, and also the one that carded the most strictly. So for tonight, Ben was 25, a total hunk with a good amount of hair on his head and on his body, a little muscle bear. He was sure this would be enough to catch an eye or two.

But much to Ben’s annoyance, he kept striking out. He might look the part, but most of the guys he hit on had him pegged for being immature, and he was starting to get frustrated. So what the hell? One more spell couldn’t hurt, right? Well, if he’d been paying attention during his basic lessons, he would have recalled that casting one spell while another is still in effect can cause the two of them to warp. If that warp is accounted for, the effects can be enhanced or controlled--but if done carelessly, especially in a highly emotional state, well, the results would be unpredictable.

But when had that stopped him before? He eyed a handsome fellow who had shot him down earlier, bought him a drink at the bar, and slipped a little enchantment into it--a little lust, a little infatuation, just enough to get to morning. A few hours later, the young man was hanging off of Ben’s arm, eagerly going home with “Daddy”. The guy had been calling him that all evening, and while Ben didn’t see it, if it got them both off, why not just go with it?

The next morning, he discovered that just going with it was a bad decision. The night was great, or at least, what he could recall of it was. They had gone back to his place, the young man had been all over “Daddy’s” cock, Ben had fucked him for a while, and they’d fallen asleep with the young man wrapped in his arms. When he awoke, expecting the two spells to have ended, he found something else entirely. He was still old--only now, he wasn’t 25, he was easily pushing fifty. He had a substantial gut, all of it covered with hair, flecked with grey. The young man wasn’t fazed by this in the least, and was busy trying to get him hard again, even as Ben was trying to shove him away and sort out what was going on.

He ended up locking himself in his bathroom, the young men knocking and begging at the door, wondering why Daddy didn’t want to play with him today, and when the young man said it, he watched as he got a little older--his hair greying further, hairline receding past the crown of his head, beard filling in and lengthening down to his chest. “Boy,” he said through the door, “Go get back in bed, Daddy just has to take care of a little business first, and I’ll be back to take care of you.”

“Ok Daddy,” the young man said again, and Ben felt his gut sag lower, his ass inflating a bit, his hair now almost all grey, “But don’t take too long...”

“Fuck fuck fuck...” Ben said, looking at himself in the mirror. He tried a couple of spells, but nothing would stick--he’d fucked up again! But he couldn’t let the department know, they’d bust his ass for sure. 

“Oh come now, Ben, after two incidents, we’re always keeping an eye on guys like you,” a voice said behind him. Sure enough, sitting on a toilet was one of the mild mannered bores from the department of magical corrections, making some notes in the air with his wand. “This looks like...an age spell and a love potion got a little mixed up last night, eh? Not the first time I’ve seen something like that. Fixing it though, that can be a bit difficult...First things first though, we need to go ahead and suspend your magical license.”

The man whipped his wand at Ben, and from one moment to the next, he felt the little thrum of power that was always at his fingertips simply vanish. It was terrifying, really. He’d gotten so used to feeling it, all the time, that it’s absence felt like a hole in his mind. “Come on man, it’s not really that serious, is it? You said you’d fixed stuff like this before! Just...let it slide, just this once. I’m sure we can work out an arrangement.”

The DOMC officer just stared at him. “How about I just focus on getting the two of you back to normal? If you want to make an appeal, we can handle that separately.”

He got up, used his wand and started poking and prodding at Ben’s body, making a few little “hmms” and “urmms” as he did. “Come on man, just fix me already!” Ben said, losing patience.

“Well, I’m afraid you really did a number on yourself. The spells are still quite active, and I don’t dare risk intervening until they have run their course. You’ll have to quarantine like this until the energy runs out I’m afraid.”

“What? I have to be this old fucker for how fucking long?”

“Hard to say, really. A day? A week? The spells are quite happy together and feeding on their shared energy. It could be longer.”

“But everytime he calls me Daddy I get even older!”

“We’ll keep you in separate quarantines, don’t worry.”

“No, fuck you! First you take my magic, and now you say I have to stay like this for a week! I want to speak to your fucking supervisor.”

The DOMC officer just sighed. “I don’t have fucking time for this. Screw it. I’m marking your case as irreversible, and in need of a reality correction. I can’t afford as much fucking overtime as this is going to cost me.”

“Wait, what the hell does that mean?” Ben managed to get out, but that was the last thing he managed to say, before the bathroom started to...twist around him, and in him, as well. All of his memories of youth, of being magical, of the one night stand, they all evaporated and were replaced by something else. The life of an old lecher, always chasing young, hot cocks. Somehow he always managed to find some young big cocked stud willing to come home with him--daddy issues, probably. 

He stood in his bathroom, head aching from all the beer he’d drank the night before, and took a long piss in the toilet. He was...sure, somehow, that he’d been talking to someone a second ago, but couldn’t remember more than that. Probably just a dream. He left the bathroom and waddled his way back to his bedroom, where the stud from the night before was waiting for him. “Ready for round two, boy?” he growled at him, and got up on the bed on hands and knees, “Daddy’s hole needs another load of your fuckin’ cum.”

“Fuck yeah Daddy, you know I’m always happy to help you out,” the young man said, slid his cock into Ben’s loose hole, and gave him a good long fuck to cement him in his new life.