The two boys met at a dance convention in Detroit when they were both freshman in high school. At the first day's 8:00 ballet class, both young men hit it off right away. Matt admired Andrew's flamboyant 'I don't give a damn what others think' attitude and Andrew was totally in love with Matt's midwestern charm developed from growing up with older brothers and Monday night football. At the convention Andrew was given the award for Mr. Junior Ballet while Matt was crowned Mr. Junior Jazz.

After the weekend convention wrapped up, both boys exchanged addresses and telephone numbers and promised to stay in touch. They did. They would write each other every week and make calls every other weekend.

Three years later, Andrew and Matt finally saw each other in person at an audition for the prestigious Juilliard school in New York City. They were both seniors at this point and were quite amazed at how the other had grown physically and how much better each other's technique had become. Andrew was amazed at how tall and muscular Matt had become. At the convention they were both about 5'7". And while Andrew grew to be about 5'10", Matt shot up to be a good 6'3". Andrew saw Matt as a powerhouse of a dancer who looked great in a sweaty dance belt.

As fate would have it both men were accepted to the dance program at Juilliard. Andrew and Matt decided that, of course, they would be roommates in college. This couldn't have pleased their parents more, since they would each have at least one good friend in the big bad city, not to mention a compatible roommate.

On night, during one of their first weeks living in NYC, Andrew was walking (in turnout) home from school carrying his dance bag and wearing a very large pair of Chanel sunglasses. He found himself surrounded by a group of tall beefy black men. The men mugged andrew and beat him up very badly. He ran home crying and walked in the door all bloody and beaten. Matt took Andrew in his arms to huss his crying. Matt held him tightly for hours and promised to Andrew that he would always protect him and never let him be hurt again.

After four years of intense training at the Juilliard school, bot Andrew and Matt graduated. During their senior year the two would frequently go on auditions together in attempts to set up a job for themselves when they graduated. As fate would have it again, bot men were hired by a very large and world renouned entertainment company to be principle dancers on a cruise ship. While the contract would require living and dancing on a ship in the Caribbean for six months, they would get to rehears in Toronto for two whole months before the ship-board contract began.

While in Toronto, Andrew and Matt decided to go out on the town one night. They started bar hopping. They went to the hot spots first; Woody's, Lub, 5ive, and Zelda's. At the end of the night (actually, early the next morning) Andrew and Matt wandered in to a bar called The Black Eagle.

"Sounds interesting." said Andrew.

"I don't know, pal, this place looks dark and dingy. How do we even know it's a gay bar?" replied Matt.

"It's on Church Street." said Andrew. "Besides, you're so big and strong, no one would dare mess with me!"

To this Matt just laughed and agreed to accompany his best friend into the bar.

-----------------------------------------

As soon as the two 22-year old men walked into the bar, they realized that it was, indeed, a gay bar. With big, middle-aged, fat, and hairy gay men. These men didn't seem to look too pleased to see Andrew (who was dressed in a very form fitting pair of Diesel jeans and a Dolce & Gabanna tank top) and Matt (who was clad head to toe in A&F). The bartender called out to the two friends:

"Hey you two! You're the hottest youngest guys in here tonight, let me fix you the house special. On me!" With that, the bartender carefully mixed two drinks and poured them in to beer glasses. "Don't worry about these loosers here, they're just jealouse of you. Your life is ahead of you and their days of growing up are far behind them. But if you want to stay young and cute, you should prob'ly stay out of the back room, eh?"

"uhhh, ok. Thanks, man." said Matt.

Andrew and Matt started to drink their special and free drinks. "UGH! This tastes kind of funny. I'm not sure I like it!" said Andrew. "Nah, Dude, it's just a bit strong." Answered Matt.

After about 20 minutes, and only about half way through their drinks, Andrew and Matt were feeling very good. Too good actually. The two didn't know that their drinks were laced with some E. Actually, quite a lot of E.

Matt didn't like how he was feeling and knew something was wrong. He told Andrew he was going to go and try to find the bathroom.

While Matt was off trying to find the washroom, and while still at the front bar, a man in a leather captain's hat and bands around his arms approached Andrew.

"Hey, little guy. What are you trying to pull here. Who do you think you're foolin'? You're too much of a little faggy bitch to be in a place like this!"

"What?" answered Andrew. By this point he was flying high on whatever was in that drink. Andrew was getting a bit touchy feely with the muscle man in leather. He was also feeling very horny. While he was dressed in a 'costume,' Andrew considered the guy pretty hot. He had a great bod and a handsome face.

"What's yer name?" aksed Andrew while grinding his teeth hard.

"It doesn't matter, boy! You can just call me Sir!"

At that moment the man grabbed Andrew by the back of the neck with his heavy, hairy and strong hand and excorted Andrew into the back room.

As he entered the back room Andrew noticed many things a little unsettling about it. At first he noticed the smell. It smelled like an old basement. There were gazed men of all ages and sizes making out, getting and giving head, licking boots and some were being physically abused. Andrew tried to turn around end get away, but just then the man took Andrew in a deep embrace and stuck his tongue in Andrew's mouth with such a force of passion it hurt in the most blissful of ways. The E only intesified this affect.

After the man pulled away Andrew asked him to kiss him again. "You have to do something for me first," said the man. "you have to let me make you into a real man." "Whatever you say." said Andrew.

"Whatever you say WHAT?!?" said the man.

"Whatever you say... Sir?" said Andrew.

"That's better, boy! Now, take off your clothes, Marty."

"Ok, but my name's --"

"Your name is Marty! It always has been!" Said the man sternly.

As Andrew was undressing, he went into his Sir to try and get another pasionate lip lock. "I can't kiss you, boy, you're too young for me! Look at you! You're a skinny little hairless child! You need to grow up, first!"

"I can't help how old I am!" answered Andrew.

"No, but I can, and I think you need to get a little older. You need to be at least in your thirties!" And as the man said this, Andrew started feeling starnge. And it wasn't just because of the E. He was tingling all over and felt bloated, like he had to burp badly, but couldn't. "You'll soon be fighting that middle-aged spread boy!"

The 22 year old Andrew was slowly getting older. As he aged about a year with every minute that passed, he also began to get quite hairy and a little bigger. His 5'10" frame was also gaining a little bit of weight. Just then the man smacked the little bit of flab that had begun to grow on what used to be Andrew's tight dancer stomach and said "if you're tired, Marty, you can lay down, old man!"

Andrew fell back onto a long white sofa that was in the dungeon of what was the Black Eagle's back room. As he fell back it felt like the whole world fell back with him. He was so dizzy and dissoriented. Andrew began to talk nonsense and stared rpeating himself;

"I can't help how old I am."

"Well, how old do you think you are, Marty?" asked the man.

"I'm twenty two. And my name is And--" Andrew was silenced by the loud laughing coming from the man. "Marty, don't tease! You know you were born in 1973... well, it looks more like 70 now! You're at least 35 now! And you're getting older by the minute!"

Andrew was so confused. He tried to sit up, but the man grabbed him and gave him another strong and doubly passionate kiss. The man then pulled the the hair at Andrew's head very hard.

"OW!" said Andrew, "Don't pluck my hair out!"

"Pluck? Could I get this much from a little PLUCK?!?" said the man. Just then he opened up his hand to show Andrew the clump pf thick black hair that the man had pulled from his head. Well, it actually wasn't all black, some of it was silver and gray. "Don't feel sad, Marty! You're just going bald! You've been balding for years! Men in their fourties usually do go bald! You're no exception! You're going bald, old man, accept it! But I can't kiss you again unless you beg me!"

Andrew was so horny and turned on and confused, he didn't know what to do. He tried to sit up. He was quite weak from his accelorated again. Learning how to function as a 40 year old man is fine when you've aged that way naturaly, but it's a shock to your system when you gor from 22 to 40 in less that twenty minutes.

"Let me help you up, Marty!" Just then the man grabbed Andrew's now beefy and very hairy arm and jerked him up where Andrew almost collapsed on the man's hairy chest. "You like that? You like my chest hair?" said the man. "I can understand you'd be envious of it, 'cause yours is a fucking FOREST next to mine, Marty!"

The man then walked Andrew over to a side wall in the back room. There was a long half-length mirror that covered the wall. There were men standing in in front of the mirror in awe. Some stood alone, but most had another man holding them there whispering things into their ears. Andrew really couldn't hear what the men were whispering, all he could hear were some of the responses from the strange looking cracked out vitims that were being held hostage to their own reflections. He would hear things like "Yes, please! I want to be fat!" or "Please, Master, make me old like you!" Andrew watched in horror as these men were changing right before their eyes. His attention was soon ripped away from the other men in the room when he heard his master whisper in his ear. "Look at the mirror!" whispered the man.

At first Andrew didn't know where to look. He saw a slightly flabby, balding old man in the mirror, but looked away to try and find his reflection-- but then he noticed that this hairy man's movements were mimicing his exactly. Almost unable to speak, he looked in terror at his reflection. "Yes, Marty. It's you!" whispered the man.

Andrew took a step closer. He looked deep into his eyes. His eyes were about the only part on him that looked familiar. What surrounded them however didn't. Andrew noticed crow's feet and wrinkles. Also, his hair line had receeded and he had almost a full beard on his face. Andrew reached up to touch his face when he saw the reflection of the back of his hand in the mirror. His hand and fingers were covered in thick black hairs and his fingeres looked thicker. His veins were bigger too and his hand just looked older.

"Look at yourself. Do you like what's become of you, Marty? You're becoming a real man. It makes me want to kiss you." said the man.

The simple thought of another one of those kisses made Andrew's dick begin to stur. The man grabbed Andrew's cock from where he was standing behind him and began yanking it slowly.

"I want to kiss you, Marty... but I can't. I can't kiss you unless you're 47 years old. Right now you're only 44. I guess you'll have to wait a few years."

"No, please!" answered Andrew. His voice sounded deeper now, and scruffy. It was more manly, but sounded like his father's voice. "Please kiss me!"

"I can't untill you're 47."

"PLEASE! I need you to kiss me! I need it!" begged Andrew.

"Once you're old enough, little boy!"

"NO, PLEASE! Make me 47! I HAVE to be OLDER!" yelled Andrew.

"Okay, boy. But first tell me your name... and how old you are."

Andrew was quiet for a moment, and then gave in. With a last breathe of desperation he said "I'm... I'm Marty. I'm 47 years old."

The man, true to his word, grabbed Marty by his hairy shoulders and laid a kiss on him that aged him (literally) three years. Then the man in the leather hat just walked away.

Marty was left alone, staring at his 47-year old self in the mirror. He stared for what seemed like hours. He was still high on E and began to feel his hairy chest with his new furry paws. He reached to feel his ass. It too was quite furry and sagged a lot compaired to a 22-year old ballet dancer's. The hair didn't stop at his waist, Marty realized his back was quite hairy as well.

Marty was so ashamed. He plopped down on the same white sofa (which hurt his old joints; he'd have to learn he can't move like he did 25 years ago) and beagn to cry and cry. He put his head in his hands and felt his receeding hairline and looked down and the substantial amount of gray hair that resided in his very bushy pubic area.

Just then Marty felt a big hand on his hairy shoulder. It was strong and rough like the man's hand that had done this to him, but it felt gentile and kind. Marty turned around and saw a huge man looking down at him. The man was wearing nothing but a cut-off denim shirt that showed off his huge arms and extremely hairy body. It was then Marty realized that was Matt's shirt! 'This furry FUCK has stolen my best friend's shirt!' thought Marty. Marty stood up quickly to try and take it back from him, but realized that at 6'7," this guy would be more than a worthy aponant.

"That's NOT your shirt! Give it back to me! It belongs to a friend of mine!!!" screamed Marty. And with that he punched the big man in the stomach. This act hurt Marty's hand a great deal considering the sized and shape of the man. But to Marty's suprise the man just stood there. He did not retaliate. Marty punched him again- this time in the face (where he had to jump up in order to reach). Again, the man just stood there.

There was a long moment of strange and uncomfortable silence.

The big man spoke. In a very deep bass voice he said;

"Hi. My name is Bill Dosser, but people call me Bull Dozer 'cause of my size. I'm 43 years old and I wore this shirt here tonight. I've had it since I was 22. Please don't hit me again. You know I can't hit you back. I told you I'd always protect to and no one would ever hurt you again. I meant it."

"Well," said Marty who was crying so hard he could barely speak,"you're so big ans strong... no one would dare mess with me." •