Astor didn’t like to work out in front of the mirrors at the gym. Partially because that’s where all the asshole bodybuilders chose to lift, so that they could see their handsome reflections staring back at them as they pumped, but mostly because Astor didn’t have much of a reflection to stare back at. He wasn’t “un” attractive, he’d had boyfriends in the past who told him he was cute (and big where it counts), but by and large Astor tended to disappear into the crowd. He told himself he was unremarkable. And that’s how he stayed.
It was a Tuesday afternoon when Astor went in to run on the treadmill for a couple of hours. Usually, the gym wasn’t too crowded that time of day, but as he pulled up to the parking lot in his old Ford Explorer, he noticed there weren’t but two free spaces.
Inside, it was even worse. The gym was packed with dozens of people, none of which even looked like they were regulars, all sniffing around on their phones as if they were playing Pokemon Go.
“Did someone spot a Mewtwo in the saunas?” Astor asked jokingly to a young girl in her late teens.
She shook her head. “Even better. Someone said they saw Logan Paul here about an hour ago!”
The name sounded vaguely familiar. Some YouTube star? Astor thought to himself. Never mind. All he wanted to do was run in peace. He muscled his way through the crowd to the locker rooms.
Even those were crowded. This Logan guy must be pretty hot, he realized; the locker room wasn’t filled with the usual douche balloons who frequented the gym. These guys were clearly gay. Slimmer, happier, casually checking each other out as they searched around for just a glimpse of celebrity meat. Astor even thought he recognized a few from Grindr.
He tried to hide his ever-growing erection as he put his stuff away, stripped down, and headed to the showers. The gym had individual shower stalls, and Astor often went there just to clean up (and to lower his water bill). He picked a stall at the far end and tore open the curtain.
Something grabbed him and pulled him inside. Astor froze, as he was face to face with one of the sexiest guys he’d ever seen. Wavy blonde hair. A perfectly toned body. Jett blue eyes. He was wearing only a pair of red, withe & blue swim trunks, and even in the dim light of the shower, Astor could see his body was not his only asset.
“Shhhhh” the guy said as Astor was about to open his mouth. He didn’t even have to ask who the guy was. He already knew.
“Are you… what are you—?”
“There’s no time to ask,” Logan said. He was quivering with fear. “I need your help with something man. I need you to help get me out of here.”
“Um…” Astor said, “Sure.” This might be the strangest trip to the gym he’d ever taken.
“Great!” The guy peeked his head out, then back in. He pulled out his cell phone. “Alright, when you get a call from your number on here, I want you to say the word ‘flipswitch’ three times fast. You got that? You have to do it right away or the change might become permanent.”
“Yes… wait, what?”
“Practice it right now! We don’t have much time.”
This was fucking ridiculous. Still, if it meant helping this guy out, Astor was willing to do anything. “Flipswitch flipswitch flipswitch,” he said.
And then everything went fuzzy. Almost immediately, Astor felt himself shoot up from 5’ 8’’ to almost 6’ 2’’. As he breathed in, he felt his body tighten itself, like he was going crunches, pull-ups and squats all at the same time. He felt the towel around him wrap around his legs to form a bathing suit, and he felt his now fully erect cock practically tear at the seems as it grew a full two inches longer.
But the strangest part? The guy infront of him was shrinking. Not only that, he was gaining Astor’s ashy brown hair and stubbly beard. His body put on some bulk and fat as his six pack vanished and his swim trunks turned into the towel Astor was just wearing. Just a second later, and he was looking at himself.
“Damn man,” Astor’s body said, “you’ve got to hit the bench a bit more if you know what I mean.”
“I… I…” Astor’s voice had grown a bit deeper. He felt more masculine in Logan’s body. More alive.
“No time to talk,” Logan said opening the curtain, “keep your phone on you, and remember to say it three times when I call!”
Just like that, Astor was alone. Or was he Logan now? He didn’t have much time to think, because after just a second of staring through the curtain, one of the guys spotted him.
“Hey! I found him! I found him OVER HERE GUYS!”
Logan froze. Everything seemed to click into place and he realized that if he didn’t run soon, he’d have a hoard of guys over him in a matter of seconds.
He sprinted out of the locker room, brushing past guy after guy, shouting after him for autographs, pictures, and even blowjobs. Logan tried to ignore them, but as he ran, as he felt his body in action, his slim muscles growing sweaty in the locker room mist, his pecs heaving up and down with every breath, he only seemed to get hornier and hornier. Maybe letting the guys catch up to him wasn’t such a bad idea…
Finally, he burst out of the locker room door and found himself face-to-face with is reflection in the wall of mirrors he’d avoided for so long. He looked magnificent. His body was a work of art; everything down from his feet up to the curves on his face. He was overcome with a rare feeling of self congratulation unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. He wanted to fuck: all the guys in the locker room, all the hot celebrities he’d fantasized about. He even wanted to fuck himself.
Logan didn’t even notice the crowds of people gathering around as he moved doe eyed to the closest pull up bar. He nearly stared at his own reflection, watching those icy blue eyes caress the deep valley between his pecs, the seductive V leading down to the anaconda in his pants.
He lifted himself up with astonishing ease, and watched himself do a hundred pull-ups effortlessly in front of the gawking crowd. He became so transfixed with the image staring back at him, he didn’t even notice the phone buzzing in his pocket.
His mind was already starting to numb, filling up with workout knowledge, memories of his time being a Vine star. He thought about all the fun he was going to have with his fans in the locker room. He thought about shoving his massive dick down their eager asses as he would watch himself flex and moan in the bathroom mirrors.
The only bit of Astor he hung onto was a single word. It fluttered in front of him aimlessly, like a smoke screen image. Flip…. flipswi… flips…fli…
Ah fuck it. There were more pressing matters at hand, like which guy was going to experience the sheer volume of Logan Paul’s dick once he got off these pull up bars. If he ever got off, that is…
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