The first day of senior year, Bryce rushed down the stairs of his high school, pushing through the ravenous lunch crowd. He headed, not for the cafeteria, but for the commons—a large, grassy area between the various buildings, studded with shade trees and graffiti decorated picnic tables. He scanned the open space, his gaze finding his two best friends seated at one of the shady tables. Grinning from ear to ear, he jogged over, his over-stuffed backpack thumping against his lumbar region.

“Hey, fellas,” he said, plopping down beside Miguel and across from Oliver. “You are never going to believe what happened this summer.”

“Momentito, amigo,” Miguel said in his sexy Spanish accent. Contrary to what the bigots at school said, he wasn’t Mexican, he was from Spain, and Bryce always thought he sounded like Puss-in-Boots. Yes, he had a bit of a crush on his friend, but Miguel was the hetero element in their little social circle, and Bryce respected that. “Oliver was just telling me about his vacation adventures.”

“Oh, go anywhere exciting?”

“My cousin’s wedding,” Oliver said, tucking a stray lock of bright purple hair back behind his ear. “In Wisconsin.”

“Sounds fun,” Bryce said, his knee bouncing. He clutched at his backpack, fingers fiddling with the zipper pull.

Oliver gave him a dark look, his blue eyes highlighted with black liner. “I was an usher. In a tux.”

Bryce choked on a laugh, trying to imagine his friend in anything other than tight black jeans and flashy T-shirts. He was the gay one, and even though Bryce was somewhere between bi- and pansexual, they had never had those kinds of feeling about each other. Not surprising, really, considering how long they had been friends. They were nearly as close as brothers.

Bryce waited, looking back and forth between his friends, the pressure building in his chest threatening to burst out of his mouth.

“Okay, man, what’s got you so excited?” Miguel asked finally. “You’re bouncing the whole table.”

“Check this out,” Bryce said, jerking his backpack open and pulling out an old, leather-bound book. He set it on the table with a thump, his fingers caressing the supple leather. Both guys leaned in to read the title embossed in gold on the cover.

“Spells For the Body and Spirit,” Oliver read out loud. He arched an eyebrow at Bryce. “Did you take up D&D or something?”

“You joined a new age cult, didn’t you?” Miguel asked, peering over the top of his glasses.

“No, to both of you,” Bryce said. “You know how my grandfather died last spring? Well, after all the family took everything they wanted from his house, there was a bunch of junk left. My father and his sister couldn’t sell the house until it was cleaned out, so they paid me to do it.”

“Nice of them,” Oliver said, trying to lift the cover of the book. Bryce put his hand on it, holding it closed.

“I volunteered. It was too hard for them. Everything had sentimental value, you know—old toys and letters and clothes. And books.” He looked down at the tome on the table, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I found this in a box in the attic, and I thought the same things you guys did. But this book is the real deal. It’s full of real spells that really work.”

Miguel and Oliver exchanged a worried look, and Miguel reached out as if to check Bryce for a fever. Bryce pushed his hand away.

“I’m not fucking with you, and I’m not crazy,” he said. “I did one of the spells, just messing around, and it worked. And I can prove it.” He pulled out his phone, glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, and leaned close to his friends. He pulled up a photo and held it up for them to see.

Their jaws dropped, faces flushing red, and Miguel grabbed the phone, turning it face down on the book.

“Who the hell is that?” he asked. He hesitated, then lifted the phone for another peek at the young woman.

Bryce chuckled. “That is my grandfather’s neighbor’s cocker spaniel.”

“What?” they both said together, voices echoing off the surrounding buildings.

“Shhh, you dumbasses,” Bryce said, glancing around again. “Look, I did this spell...” He opened the book, flipping to the page he had marked with a post-it. “It turns animals into people.”

Oliver pulled the book over in front of him and buried his nose in it, while Miguel took another look at Bryce’s phone.

“Damn, those are some nice tits,” he said, then shoved the phone back into Bryce’s hand. “You know this is totally loco, right? I mean, you don’t really expect us to believe this shit, do you?”

“I hoped you would,” Bryce said, “but no, I know it’s insane. I just need to know if you guys trust me enough to do one of these spells with me. Then you’ll see.”

“I’ll do it,” Oliver said, much to Bryce’s surprise. He’d expected him to be the most skeptical. Oliver looked up from the book. “This spell references quantum mechanics and subatomic particles in ways I’ve never heard of. Theoretically, what it suggests may be possible.”

Bryce turned back to Miguel. “So? What do you say?”

“Just one question,” Miguel said. “The dog-girl. Did you..?”

“What do you think?” Bryce said with a broad grin. “She wasn’t big on conversation, but man, was she eager to please. And energetic.”

Miguel groaned. “You’re killing me, man. Hell yeah, I’m in. What do you—”

“Hey, nerd squad, you’re at our table.”

Bryce flinched at the deep, loud voice echoing across the commons. Finn. Star quarterback and all around arrogant jerk, he’d been a pain in their asses since the sixth grade. And he wasn’t alone, trailing two of his football buddies and no fewer than four girls. He smirked at them as he approached, tall and handsome, with perfect teeth and perfect hair, and Bryce wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off his face. But not today.

Oliver snapped the book closed, hugging it to his chest as they vacated the shady table, moving to the other side of the commons, where the only empty spot was in the broiling sun.

“So, what spell did you want to do?” Miguel asked. “The animal to human one again? ‘Cause my neighbor has this siamese cat—”

Bryce shook his head and took the book back from Oliver. “I was thinking we should try this one.” He opened to a page in the back and held it up for them to read.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Oliver whispered. “Who did you have in mind?”

Bryce closed the book. “Who do you think?”

Oliver and Miguel looked at each other and nodded.

“Finn.”

~*~*~*~

On Friday, between classes, Bryce slipped into the boy’s locker room and placed a piece of duct tape over the latch on the exterior door, preventing it from catching properly. That night, while everyone in town was packed into the stadium across the street, cheering for their three-time state champion football team, Bryce snuck back in and borrowed the sweaty shirt hanging in Finn’s locker, because the beloved quarterback didn’t bother to close the close the door, let alone lock it.

Miguel and Oliver waited for him outside, in a grove of trees near the fence. It was secluded enough that the ground was littered with cigarette butts and used condoms, so they weren’t too worried about being caught. Bryce drew a circle in the dirt and placed the shirt inside. He pulled a three by five index card out of his pocket, already inscribed with the incomprehensible spell equation. Oliver had called it a complex blend of advanced physics and pure madness, but if Sparkles the dog-girl was any indication, they didn’t need to understand it to make it work.

Bryce set the spell card on the shirt and they held their hands over it, the tips of their fingers touching. Bryce wasn’t sure if it was just nerves, but he thought he could feel a strange energy zinging through their fingers as they began to chant the activation sequence. It wasn’t in English, or any language that they could find. Oliver had theorized that it wasn’t language at all, it was just sounds that acted upon the vibrating strings that made up everything in the universe. However it worked, they made sure to follow the directions in the book to the last letter.

As the final sound died away, a resounding cheer rose up from the stadium. Their team had scored another touchdown.

Miguel looked back and forth between them. “Did it work?”

“How can we tell?” Oliver asked.

“Well, with the dog, it was a slow transformation,” Bryce said, grabbing his note card and the shirt. “I’m going to put this back, and then we can go to the game and see if anything is happening.”

The fourth quarter was half over and the ticket booth was closed, so they just walked in and found a spot near the exit. Finn was on the field, throwing perfect spirals and scrambling for first downs like he did every Friday. Bryce watched him run off the field after yet another score, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It should have worked. They did everything right.

As the last seconds ticked off the clock, the student section emptied onto the field as the rest of the crowd flooded out into the parking lot. Bryce remained in his seat, his gaze burning holes through Finn as his teammates hoisted him into the air in celebration.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Oliver said finally, rising to his feet. “It was a neat idea—”

“It should have worked, damn it.”

“We can figure out what went wrong and try again,” Miguel said. “Unless...”

“Unless, what?” Bryce asked.

“Unless you want to admit this was just a joke. I mean, it was a good one. You got us good, man.”

Bryce glanced at Oliver, who shrugged and nodded. He thought it was a joke, too.

“Fuck you both,” Bryce said, storming down the bleachers. Some friends.

They caught up to him in the parking lot.

“Bryce, wait up,” Oliver said. “Do you swear, and I mean really swear on everything you hold dear, that this wasn’t a joke.”

“I swear on my dick,” Bryce said, which was just about the most dire oath a young man could make. “This should have worked.”

“Okay, then,” Miguel said. “Let’s wait around for Finn to change out of his football gear and see if he looks any different.”

“Right, those pads could be hiding any changes,” Oliver said.

They loitered outside the fence, watching as the teams filed across the street to the gym. It wasn’t long before players began to trickle out in their street clothes. Bryce and his cohorts tried to look like they were waiting for a ride, but no one paid them any attention, anyway. Even the coaches barely spared them a glance as they headed for their cars.

“That must be everyone,” Oliver said. “Did either of you see Finn come out?”

They shook their heads.

“Should we go look?” Miguel asked.

“Hang on,” Bryce said as the gym doors opened and two more players came out, carrying their overstuffed gear bags. Bryce recognized them as Finn’s two closest friends.

“Did you see Finn in there?” one of them asked, his voice carrying across the street.

“I think he might have a concussion,” the other one said.

“How, bro? He never got hit once.”

“Beats me.” They crossed the street and headed for their respective vehicles.

“Some friends,” Oliver muttered. “If I was acting strange, you guys wouldn’t leave me, would you?”

“We’re here, aren’t we?” Bryce said, laughing. Oliver punched him in the back, but not hard enough to hurt.

“Hey, hey—door,” Miguel said, but it wasn’t Finn that stepped out into the night, it was Coach Davis. “I thought the coach left last.”

“Me, too,” Oliver said. “So, did we miss Finn?”

“I’m gonna find out,” Bryce said, heading for the gym. They slipped around behind the building, climbing through a hole in the fence, and eased open the exterior locker room door. The door was in the back corner for privacy, so Bryce couldn’t see anything by the back side of a bank of lockers, but the room was silent, save for the sound of splashing water. He motioned for Miguel and Oliver to be quiet and follow him.

Inside, it smelled of sweat and musk and body spray, the air warm and steamy. Moving cautiously, the guys made their way to the shower area and peered around the tiled wall.

Finn sat upon the floor beneath the streaming shower, leaning back against the wall as he gripped and kneaded his own chest, his soft moans echoing in the closed space. Concussion, indeed. Then Bryce did a double-take, his eyes widening. Finn’s pecs were swelling, his small man-nipples expanding into large, dark areolas with pebbled peaks in the center.

“Madre de Dios, he’s got tits,” Miguel hissed, grabbing Bryce’s arm. The mounds of flesh continued to grow, filling Finn’s sizable hands.

“Oh, God,” Finn moaned. “What is happening to me?” He spread his legs, drawing his knees up and reaching down between his legs to rub the smooth skin behind his balls. Finn moaned, his back arching, as a mound formed behind his balls, a shadow dividing the soft swell down the middle. Like a flower bud opening in the sun, the pink, glistening inner folds of Finn’s brand new vagina spread open. Bryce gasped, his cock hardening.

“Holy shit, it worked!” Oliver said, a little too loudly.

Finn’s eyes snapped open. “Who’s there?”

Thinking fast, Bryce whipped out his phone and snapped several shots of Finn and his new anatomy.

“Say cheese, princess,” Bryce said, stepping into the opening of the shower area.

“You little pervert,” Finn said, his face flushing an ugly shade of scarlet. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“No, you won’t,” Bryce said, pretending to fiddle with the phone, “or else all the posts I have scheduled will go live on Facebook, Insta, Tiktok—everywhere—and everyone will see what you’ve become. How do you think your friends will like your new pussy, princess?”

“What do you want?” Finn asked, his voice low.

“You belong to us now,” Bryce said, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “You’re our bitch and you’ll do whatever we say, or we’ll make sure you regret you were ever born.” Finn just stared at him, and Bryce could just imagine the hamster falling off its wheel inside his skull. “Now, turn off that water and get out here.”

Bryce walked away, his heart pounding as he waited to see if Finn would obey.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Oliver said, his hands trembling with excitement.

“Is this permanent?” Miguel asked. “Did the book say?”

“It says in the introduction,” Bryce replied. “The effects of a transformation last for an hour, and when it wears off, it returns the subject to their previous state, body and mind. So, I’m thinking that means he won’t even remember this.”

“But what if he does?” Miguel pressed. “He could report us to the police. I don’t want to go to jail.”

“Do you want to leave?” Bryce asked, trying to hide his disappointment. He glanced at Oliver. “What about you? Guys, as long as we’re too scared to take our revenge, the bullies will just keep knocking us down. Think about it: no more being forced to move because someone wants our spot, no more feet stuck out to trip us in the halls, no more snickers and muttered slurs. We will finally get the basic respect that we as human beings deserve.”

“Rousing speech, pervert,” Finn said, one arm awkwardly trying to cover his breasts as he dripped water on the floor. He didn’t seem concerned with covering his dick, however. “Which of your favorite nerd movies did you steal that from?”

Bryce grabbed a towel off the nearby rack and tossed it to him.

“Dry off.”

Finn shook out the towel and dried his hair, then ran the coarse terrycloth down his body, his breath catching and a deep blush creeping up his face as he dried his breasts, his nipples tightening. He cleared his throat. “If you think humiliating me is going to make your pathetic lives any better, you’re not just nerds, you’re idiots.” He walked past them, over to his locker, and placed one foot up on the bench, his back to them as he bent forward to dry his leg.

The slick, pink lips of his pussy peeked out from between his legs, and Bryce slid up behind him, pressing the flat of his hand against that wet heat. Finn gasped, a shudder racking his lean, muscular body, and he moaned, pushing back against Bryce’s hand.

“You feel that?” Bryce asked as Finn ground against his hand. “This isn’t about humiliation, it’s about having you at our complete and total mercy. You’re like a bitch in heat, and you’ll be begging us to fuck you before this is over.”

“Oh, fuck! You bastards,” Finn groaned, his hips jerking as Bryce slid two fingers between those sensitive folds, stroking Finn’s clit and making his legs shake. He pulled his hand back, his cock hard enough to cut glass as he undid his jeans and shoved them down to his knees. He stroked himself, spreading Finn’s pussy juice along his shaft, and then stepped up behind the quarterback.

“Guess what this is, princess,” Bryce said, rubbing his knob against that slick slit, spreading Finn’s folds with his cockhead.

“Oh, God, is that what I think it is?” Finn panted, planting both feet on the floor and widening his stance. He bent farther, bracing his hands against the bench, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge. “You...you can’t do this to me. I’m a guy.”

“At the moment, your pussy would beg to differ,” Bryce said, pressing his cockhead against Finn’s virgin channel. The big man mewled like a kitten, shaking with need as his new body betrayed him, overwhelmed by the sensitivity of his new flesh. “You want it, don’t you?” Bryce asked, teasing that quivering hole, starting to push in, then pulling back. “Ask for it, princess. Beg for it.”

“Yes...yes, please,” Finn whimpered. “Give it to me.”

“Give you what, princess?”

“Your cock!” Finn all but shouted. “Put your cock in me, please!”

“Fuck, this is muy caliente,” Miguel whispered, reminding Bryce that he and Oliver were still there. Bryce fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Miguel.

“Film this, will you? I want a video of me popping his cherry.”

Bryce waited until Miguel gave him the nod, and then he pushed in, his cock squeezed by Finn’s tight channel. He met a momentary resistance, but a forceful thrust tore through the hymen. Finn cried out, his body shaking as Bryce slid in to the hilt.

“How does that feel, princess?” Bryce asked, grabbing Finn’s chiseled hips and holding himself deep in the quarterback’s pussy.

“B-big,” Finn panted. “You’re so big. I-I had no idea it would feel so good.”

“Yes, you’re hungry for cock, aren’t you, little princess,” Bryce said, reveling in this new power. It made his head spin, having Finn at his mercy. He began to pump his hips, pulling back until he almost slipped out, then thrusting hard, his balls slapping against Finn’s slick mound.

“Oh! Oh, fuck! I’m cumming!” Finn cried, his passage clenching around Bryce’s cock, waves of orgasm shuddering through him. Curious, Bryce glanced beneath Finn, but there was no semen on the floor and his cock was rock hard. Apparently, that was a pussy-only orgasm. Bryce pounded him harder, until he was panting and shaking. “Wh-what’s happening? I feel like I’m gonna cum again.”

Bryce laughed through gritted teeth, fighting against his own impending climax.

“Don’t you know, women can have multiple orgasms?” he asked. “Let me guess, you’re a ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’ kind of guy.”

“Oh! Oh, God! Oh, fuck!” Finn shouted, his vaginal muscles gripping Bryce like a fist, bringing him to the most intense climax of his life. He drove deep into Finn, his balls trying to turn themselves inside out as he emptied his load. Groaning softly, he withdrew, staggering back as Finn’s knees buckled and he collapsed, catching himself on the bench.

Bryce turned to Miguel and Oliver, a lazy, sated smile on his face.

“So, who’s next? Or do you guys still want to leave?”

Miguel shoved the phone into Oliver’s hands, fumbling with his zipper as he rushed to get his jeans down.

“Hold on, why do you get to go next?” Oliver asked.

“Because it’s your turn to hold the camera,” Miguel answered, like it couldn’t be more obvious.

“But I thought you were straight,” Oliver argued.

“Duh—pussy,” Miguel said, trying to elbow Oliver out of the way.

Oliver pushed back, refusing to move. “Uh, hello? He’s got a dick.”

“Boys, boys, no need to fight,” Bryce said, zipping up and tugging his shirt down. “Our princess has enough holes for everyone. Oliver, you prefer ass anyway, right?”

“Forget it,” Finn panted, struggling to get to his feet. His legs still looked a little wobbly. “Nobody is fucking me in the ass.”

“Oh, well, in that case, we’ll be sure to tag you in that video of you begging for my cock,” Bryce said, reaching for the phone. “Do you want to see it, or should I just post it?”

“Fuck you!” Finn shouted, his face red as his gaze darted to each of them in turn. “Fuck you all!” He looked like he was going to cry.

“Yeah, that’s the plan, princess,” Bryce said. He went into the coach’s office and came out pushing a plush, leather office chair. “Have a seat, Miguel.”

Miguel looked confused for a moment, then the light of realization dawned in his eyes. He dropped his jeans and sat in the chair, squirming a little to rub his bare ass on the buttery-soft leather.

“Ven aqui, princess,” Miguel said, one hand gliding up and down his hard cock. He had a nice dick, both long and thick, and unlike Bryce and most of the guys he’d been with, Miguel was uncut, his dark foreskin covering a bulbous knob. He crooked his finger at Finn. “Come here.”

Finn balked, but Bryce gave him an encouraging shove, pushing him onto Miguel’s lap. The chair groaned beneath their weight as Finn straddled Miguel and sank down onto his cock, Finn’s back arching as Miguel filled his slippery tunnel.

“Mmm, magnifica,” Miguel murmured, his hands cupping Finn’s tits, kneading and squeezing the mounds of flesh. He bowed his head, lips capturing the taut nub of a nipple, and Finn moaned, rocking his hips and riding Miguel’s cock.

“We’re running out of battery,” Oliver said, handing Bryce the phone. He slid his tight black jeans down around his thighs, and Bryce was shocked to see a metal ring piercing the head of Oliver’s cock. Oliver caught him staring and gave his cock a slow stroke. “Like it? My birthday present to myself.”

“Didn’t it hurt?” Bryce asked, cringing a little at the thought.

Oliver shrugged. “A bit, but the added sensitivity has more than made up for it. Hey, you don’t have any lube, do you?”

“Are you kidding?” Bryce asked, looking down where Miguel and Finn’s bodies were joined. “The princess is dripping like a faucet. Use that.”

“It’s not as silky as a quality lube,” Oliver complained, coating his fingers in Finn’s juices. He slicked his cockhead and guided his pierced knob between Finn’s muscular ass cheeks, rubbing up and down over Finn’s tight hole. Finn froze, his mouth open, helpless little gasps escaping him as Miguel continued to suckle and tease his sensitive nipples.

Oliver eased into him, a slight frown creasing his brow as he concentrated. Bryce could see Finn tense, resisting, but it was futile. Oliver slid inside, filling Finn’s back passage, and forcing a breathless moan from his lips. Oliver leaned against Finn’s back and whispered in his ear.

“Don’t be scared, princess,” he said. “Being fucked in the ass doesn’t make you queer. Unless it feels good, of course.”

The look of panic on Finn’s face was priceless and it was all Bryce could do not to laugh out loud. Oliver was just fucking with him. Enjoying anal sex had very little to do with sexual orientation and everything to do with the sheer number of nerves located in and around the anus. It was simple biology, but something the die-hard homophobes couldn’t get past.

“This is even better than I imagined,” Bryce said, crouching down beside the chair to get the perfect angle. He filmed Oliver’s cock sliding slowly out, and then driving back in, Finn’s body bucking with each deep thrust. Miguel finally managed to pry his lips away from Finn’s tits, and he planted his feet firmly against the floor and raised his hips, thrusting up into Finn’s hot, wet pussy.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Finn shouted, digging his fingers into the back of the chair as he bucked and writhed between the two men. He sagged, panting, shuddering with the echoes of his orgasm, but within moments, he was arching again, desperate moans filling the locker room.

Bryce’s phone flashed the low battery warning and he reluctantly put it away, his hand rubbing his growing erection through his jeans as he watched his friends fuck Finn nearly senseless. The quarterback came at least twice more before Miguel arched his back, his face twisted in a grimace of ecstasy as he filled Finn’s pussy. He slumped, flushed and sweaty, his glasses fogged over, holding Finn’s hips while Oliver pounded into Finn’s ass. Finn gasped, a look of bewilderment on his face as he cried out, cumming again as Oliver slammed into him and dumped his load.

All three of them looked dazed as they uncoupled, Finn taking a staggering step toward his locker. Bryce caught him by the arm and pulled him back.

“We’re not done yet, princess,” he said.

“Oh, come on,” Finn groaned. “I can’t cum again, please.”

“We’ll see about that,” Bryce said, motioning for Miguel to get out of the chair. He pushed Finn down into the soft leather and dropped his jeans again. Finn practically sobbed as Bryce raised his long, muscular legs, hooking Finn’s ankles over his shoulders. With a glance at the clock on the wall, Bryce wasted no time plunging deep into Finn’s pussy, making him gasp and arch. Their hour was almost up. Finn was still as hot and tight at the first thrust, his muscular walls contracting and squeezing Bryce’s cock as Bryce fucked him hard and fast.

“Oh, God, not again,” Finn gasped, his tits bouncing as he bucked and shivered, a look of exquisite agony racing over his features. Feeling more then a little devious, Bryce reached down and grasped Finn’s cock, jerking him industriously as he continued to pound Finn’s pussy. Finn howled, clawing at the arms of the chair, as his cock erupted, striping his chest with strings of glistening pearls. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, his chin thumping against his chest.

“Oh, shit, you killed him,” Oliver gasped, but Bryce could see the rapid rise and fall of Finn’s chest. He was just unconscious. His own climax approaching, Bryce pulled out and stroked his slick cock, shooting his load onto Finn, thick strings dangling from the arrogant jock’s hair and nose.

Exhausted but extremely satisfied, Bryce put his clothes back in order and took out his phone one last time. He just hoped he had enough battery left.

“You probably don’t remember how this happened,” he said, filming Finn passed out in the chair. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we can do it again any time, and we will unless you start being a helluva lot nicer to all the freaks and queers and nerds that you think aren’t worth your time. Remember that.”

He shut off the video and went to Finn’s locker, pulling Finn’s phone out of his bag. After unlocking it with Finn’s thumb print, he texted the video to Finn’s number, and then put it back. With big, dopey smiles on their faces, they fled the locker room, slipping back out through the fence and hurrying down the street.

“Gracias, mi amigo,” Miguel said, clapping Bryce heartily on the back. “That was fucking amazing!”

“Yeah, man, thanks for sharing your spell book with us,” Oliver said.

“Thanks for believing me,” Bryce said. “I know it wasn’t easy. There’s just one more thing I need to ask you.” He stopped, regarding them with a grave expression, but he couldn’t keep a straight face for long. He grinned broadly. “Who should we do next?”