Uneven Desires


By Xyggurat

Chad looked down at the boy slurping between his legs. The smaller lad's cock was swollen to its full size, but next to Chad's tool--which happened to be plumbing the depths of the boy's mouth--it looked decidedly unimpressive. It wasn't just that Chad had an enormous dick, although at almost nine inches, he could have gone looking for work in the porn industry. No, the cock, and the boy that it was attached to, were exceptionally small. That was not always the case.

Jake was a weedy sort, and for most of his life had been the sort of guy that neither members of his own sex or the opposite looked twice at. With lank black hair and a hawkish nose, he was neither especially ugly or attractive. There was nothing the least bit special about Jake on the outside. Not where men could see. What distinguished him from other men was that he'd had a brush with greatness.

It had started out innocently enough. Jake was in the college library avoiding research on a biology project when he came across a copy of the Ars Notoria. The book had pretty pictures in it and--more importantly--flipping through it involved nothing resembling work. He couldn't understand most of the writing, which appeared to be in Hebrew, but some helpful soul had written crib notes in the margins in green ink. The colour had a metallic edge, like the green on some car models.

Even though Jake was no scholar, it didn't take him long to realize he had something fascinating on his hands. Something powerful. The spells written in the margins included some that Jake immediately shied away from. He had no desire to turn anyone's livers inside out, or summon a storm that the green ink had labeled as being "of Biblical proportions." Given the Notoria's questionable connection to King Solomon, the word Biblical took on new meanings.

Most of the spells in the book's early pages held little interest for Jake. He definitely didn't want to summon a demon called "The Poison in the Temple" or feast upon the blood of his enemies. The thought of drinking blood made Jake sick to his stomach. In fact, the only entry during the first perusal that interested Jake was a wealth spell.

He stole the book. He could not name the source of the strange compulsion that came over him, but he obeyed it. The book didn't have a library serial on it anyway, and the sensors at the library doors didn't even go off as he smuggled the tome out in his jacket. He dashed home, dodged his jockish roommate, Chad, and spent the night reading. It was the first time Jake had ever finished a book.

The spell that interested him most was located toward the end of the book. Its page was partially torn out and it was crammed with red handwriting. The spell described a transfer of masculinity between two persons.

Jake never meant to harm anyone, precisely.

In fact, after the wealth spell, he never meant to use the book again, but his thoughts kept running back to the spell in red. He was a skinny guy, average in looks and athleticism. He played along with Chad on the intramural football team, but when the real season came around, he was a quality bench-warmer. Besides, Chad had plenty of manliness to spare. His roommate was a god--over six feet tall, fit, tan, with a smile that defied conventional wattage amounts. The few times they worked out together, Chad pushed three or four times the weight Jake could manage.

Opportunity presented itself. Chad was never very good with money, and a horde of bills came due all at once. They were watching the telly, checking out a rugby match. Chad was still fuming from another phone call demanding his money. He was also wreathed in beer fumes, whereas Jake had been careful not to drink too much.

Keeping his head clear also meant that he didn't have the added courage that alcohol provided. He tried several times before he managed to speak those fateful words:

"You look bummed, man. Still got money troubles?"

From there, it was all a downhill run. Convinced as much by liquor as the lure of Jake's money, Chad had given in to the humiliating ritual described in the Ars Notoria. He'd knelt before Jake, taking the average size penis into his mouth. Once he had gotten off in Chad's mouth, Jake chanted the incantation: "Now that you have accepted my bounty and my seed, you must repay me!"

The effects weren't visible, but Jake wandered around for the next day feeling supercharged. He was still just as weak, just as slim, but he had the courage to ask a girl out that day, and it hadn't bothered him when she'd said no. Soon he was fiending for more of the confidence and that which went with it: Chad's muscles, his good looks, his very masculinity.

For a time, it had worked, but then Chad got wise to the plan. It happened way beyond where Jake had planned to go--he didn't want a subservient slave, not at first, but as his masculinity and machismo swelled beyond any natural bounds, it had only felt natural that Chad should be smaller, weaker, more desperate to please him.

Chad had gotten lucky. He'd used Jake's overbearing sex drive against him and managed to reverse the spell.

"You know what they say: a spell cast in error is an error on you," Chad mocked in Jake's memory. As Jake worked on Chad's mammoth rod, he wondered exactly who had made that a famous phrase. It seemed pretty situational, like jokes about Charles and Camilla.

Chad's tool bucked in Jake's mouth. It felt like it was expanding even beyond its normal length. Jake knew what was coming, but he had no choice. His eyes met with the smug approval in Chad's, and the skinny boy flushed with pleasure. He deserved this.

The master came. Salt and bitterness flooded Jake's senses.

Gosh, he hated the taste of cum.


Chad noticed that something was strange about Jake three days after the lad came back from a trip to Amsterdam. Compelled by the backlash of his own spell, Jake had to do pretty much everything that Chad ordered, but it was with a peculiar zest that he set to tasks like taking out the garbage, cleaning up a few wank-rags that Chad left next to his bed, even sweeping up after Chad shaved his head one day.

Although Chad knew it gave Jake immense pleasure to serve him, fellatio always came at Chad's discretion. So it was to Chad's great surprise that Jake slipped in to the bathroom after him, a look of desperation on his face.

Chad flexed his biceps in the mirror. The reversal of the spell had given him more than a couple inches off of Jake's cock and height. Since that day a few weeks prior, he'd put on 10 pounds of muscle in the gym with a minimal effort. His stamina in bed was extraordinary--the current record was seventeen times in one day--and he attracted people with ease. He barely had took look at a girl or guy (the latter being an apparent side-effect of the spell as well) before the target started to flush and sweat. From there, it was like trying to hit a target with a nuclear weapon.

As he thought about the way his life had been improved, Chad admired the curve of his guns. They must have been 17" easy, and he'd made corresponding gains on his chest. His abs, too, had never been so visible. Just thinking about the way he'd been altered sent a flush of pleasure to Chad's groin, and a huge shape began stirring in his gym shorts. Fully hard, it would poke over the band and past his navel.

Jake seemed determined to make that happen. He scurried forward and placed a hand against Chad's bulge. The boy was almost a full foot shorter than Chad and the contrast between them was obvious in the mirror. Jake was short where Chad was tall, skinny instead of muscular, pale where his roommate was tan. Chad felt a pang of guilt that the thought of his superiority turned him on so much.

He stopped himself.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked Chad, a fond but condescending smile on his face.

"I want to please you, Chad." His breath smelled like herbs, but Chad couldn't put his finger on the scent. "You're such a good roommate and you deserve it."

Chad rolled his eyes. He stepped toward the door, but when Jake's hand tightened on his trousers, Chad's cock jumped. He turned back to his diminutive roommate.

"Okay," he said. "Whatever. Do it."

Jake knelt on the hard bathroom floor and gingerly pried at Chad's gym shorts. The stretchy material pulled back, and Chad's mammoth dick leapt to full attention. Chad groaned and his eyes rolled.

Smiling to himself while Chad wasn't looking, Jake pried at the back of his roommate's shorts and pulled them, along with Chad's boxers, down over the muscular shelf of ass that held them up. They settled around Chad's feet.

Jake devoured Chad's cock with evident zest. As he did, Chad felt an odd tingle resound through him. It started at his cock, but soon it traveled up his spine and throughout his body. A lassitude settled into his muscles. It was the best blow job that he'd ever received, and that was saying something.

He bucked against Jake's mouth hard enough to unhinge the smaller lad's jaw, but Jake held on like a remora, milking pleasure out of the solid dick. He felt it swell just as it had a few days before, except this time, energy lanced through him a sword, tearing into his flesh. His lungs expelled a moan at the same moment that Chad came, and the sound was lost in the grunts and groans of orgasm.

Both men were lost in the blinding flash that emitted from the point of contact, and their consciousnesses became one with darkness. •

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