August, 1993
Bruce Jameson lived in Hollywood. He had a coarse layer of stubble, greasy with sweat as he worked out on his treadmill. Things weren't like they used to be. At 35, he wasn't exactly the prowling animal about town that he used to be. Once, the world was his oyster. Now, he was lucky if he could get a bit part on the newest shampoo commercial.
But who was he kidding? The only roles he'd been able to land on his plate lately were B movie horror flicks. Usually, he played one of the wacky heroes that got chomped to death while the younger male in the picture hustled the buxom blonde to safety.
He looked in the mirror as he walked to the kitchen. He was always a "rough cut" so to speak. Thick, coarse, dark black-brown hair. Craggy features creeping into his face. Not that he didn't mind, you see. As far as he and every other gay man were concerned, he was still hot to trot. But as the years had gone by, so had the parts. He just didn't feel like the man he used to be.
Oh, he was still tall, and he still attracted the gents. But lately his back had been killing him, and he wasn't working out as much. He felt so...old now. So tired all the time of trying. He wished he'd gone for a more stable career, but now it was too late to try for one. He was a B actor. A wash up.
He stretched out his massive arms and yawned. He licked his prickly stubble. He felt like sex, and yet, he didn't. Life was so boring, and complicating itself exponentially. He looked in the mirror and did some posing. It made him feel slightly better. He was still macho, and his hair hadn't really begun to go at all. But he was still himself. He would never land any of the parts he wanted to.
That night, he got a call from a frantic voice, who he quickly learned was Davis, his longtime friend and occassional sexual partner.
"I couldn't believe it! She was amazing! I can't believe she did it!"
Within a few hours, he found himself on the highways and byways of L.A., headed for canyon country with the wind beating into his face as his convertible raced towards its inevitable goal.
The story was ludicrous. Davis was probably drunk. The story went something like this:
Her name was...Madame Deveaux. A sorceress of old. More than a conjurer, she could exact whatever fate she wanted upon men. And she chose to do so at her own profit. The story had taken forever to unfold. Men who came around for miles, invited with gold leaf illustrated cards. It reminded him of that movie...what was it called... Death Becomes Her! Only without the death part. And this chick was some Caribbean voodoo priestess or...something like it. Really mysterious. Man after man asked to be transformed, according to Davey.
Bruce's heart was now beating faster and faster as he approached the isolated house on the drive up and away from the obscure little dirt road he'd been on for the past twenty minutes. Dave sure did like his isolation. So what if the story sounded ridiculous? Maybe this evening was all some sex gimmick. Some lure for role playing. Well, what the hell. He was up for it.
He was not prepared for what happened on that dark night. He drove into the hills, noting the luminous horizon cast over the city of Los Angeles, the warm brown glow of night spread across the horizon like a tarp. (he remembered every detail of it so clearly whenever he would look back on it).
A young teenager opened the door.
No.
No!
It couldn't be. It was! It was Davey, the Davey he'd met at summer camp in 1979 - the one who pried up boards and hit bodybuilder magazines. The one who he'd first discovered. (but certainly not the last!)
He was devoid of any facial hair. He had scratchy orange-brown hair that jumped out from his head, short and still thick, still so... young. He could smell the scent of him. It was so innocent and pure.
He backed away several steps. "How can this be possible. This isn't possible,' he murmured. "What the fuck is going on here?!" he yelled. He was in another reality now, looking backward in time at his friend as he appeared as a teenager, decades ago.
The 14 year old approached him. "Long time, no see, eh?" The shorter young pup pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "I know. You like, don't you? I've been given a new lease on life, you big ol' bull you. Why don't you come inside and teach me what it means to be a man all over again?"
Bewildered, Bruce followed him in. Dave offered him a cigar. Dave put out his own cigarette, unused to the fumes, and sat down in a chair opposite from his friend. Bruce gnashed the cigar in his mouth and lit it. He didn't know what else to do. Dave, or really he should use the name Davey, smiled in his now oversized tank top and shorts that were fastened on tight by a belt also too big for his britches. He was so short, so meager, so thin and stripped of stature.
"But why?" Bruce cried. "Why do it? Even if you could?"
"Immortality, stupid. I was making chump change and so were you. We're past our prime. So I decided to do something about it."
After that, they discussed things for nearly an hour. Why he did it, and how he assured Bruce there was no going back.
"Shit, look at us," said Davey. "You're old enough to be my old man." He laughed, although not a mean laugh. Nothing coming from that bronze haired little face could possibly seem cruel. Bruce wanted to hold him, but fought the instinct.
"I still don't understand one thing," said Bruce. "How are you going to make any money? How are you going to go about your normal business? The law is sort of...explicit about kids not being alone in a house all by themselves. And for that matter...driving! You're not even old enough to do THAT anymore!"
"I hear you loud and clear, paisano." said the all too self assured 14 year old. "But one thing you gotta learn, my frere, is that I am smarter than the av-er-age bear cub." He winked, and motioned for Bruce to follow him.
He led them across the house and upstairs. It was fairly dark, and not many lights were lit. Upstairs it was dark in the loft, but a press of a button illuminated the fairly clean wide space that made up the upstairs area. Walking across that they took a right and headed towards the gym.
Standing in the center of that well lit room, was a gorgeous specimen. He was practically over towering at 6'2" and his chest was jaw droppingly gorgeous. Rounded out so smoothly, and dark between the contours. He had the beginnings of a beard going for him. His black, freshly shampooed hair lay limply through the man's fingers as he panted from his workout. He was only wearing jeans, which gave Bruce an instant erection.
My God, he's beautiful, he thought.
"Now then," said the calm and composed young lad who was now Davey. "You remember my nephew."
Bruce turned to him in shock.
"I...i..it can't be!" he said...startled and stuttering. "It just can't be!"
Charley smiled as if he'd just been complimented on one of his drawings of superheroes that were placed on the fridge with magnets downstairs. He looked like a model was bursting out of his shirt...he was now putting on a tattered gray shirt that struck Bruce as incredibly erotic.
"Charley here has consented to be my...shall we say...guardian." began Davey. "Of course, I'll still be making the money around here. I intend to get back into acting under a new name."
Davey's career had been short and fast. He'd played a construction worker and karate expert in some movies years ago when he was just out of college. Since then it was mostly doing stunt shoots, and eventually bartending.
Charley smiled. "Hi uncle Bruce! Did you come to watch me lift stuff?"
"Uh...well..no, not really, youn-uh, wow." Bruce said, unable to even look up at the hunk next to him. The kid had barely been a day over ten just the week before. "Guess I really can't call you 'young man' anymore."
"Why did you do this?" he asked Davey.
"Had to find someone, paisano. That's the way it works. You have to find someone to switch ages with. He was ten, and now he's thirty three. We swapped a total of 23 years. You can go with however many you want, but I call Charley "Dad" when we're in public. I was thirty seven, same age as you, so now I'm...well, just hitting puberty!" Dave touched one of the sharp jutting angles of his hair. He looked like a friggin skateboarder punk! Thin, with that high voice Bruce was so unused to. He hadn't heard that voice in decades...
"Hey Charley, how bout we all get a couple of beers?" said Dave.
"Kay," Charley replied excitedly.
"You should've seen him when he first transformed," said Dave to Bruce. "He was so amazed that I was gonna let him drink. He still has a lot to learn."
"I can't believe you've done this!"
"Would you like a go at it?"
"E-excuse me?"
"You can do it to! Madame Deveaux gave me these...well, little wish sticks."
"Did you say fish sticks or wish sticks?"
"Wish sticks. They work and smell like incense. Only they grant wishes, man."
"My concern is Charley right now! He's only ten and he's in the mind of that...that...my god, he looks like he could pick the both of us up at once and land us on our heads!"
"Acceleration causes a rapid tissue growth...it's one of the side effects," said Dave naturally.
"But what about him? What happens when he realizes that he's the adult and tries to boss you around? Have you thought about that?!"
"Of course! Don't be dense. But it's all under control. We've had long talks on this subject, and he knows that I'm in control of all the finances. He touches one hair on my head and he'd out on the street. Of course, I put it in a much nicer way..." he said, smiling. "I am the only one with the knowledge of where the wish sticks are."
"What about his parents?"
"I haven't heard from Christine since Charley was three," the teenage Davey explained. "No one has. She abandoned her family. I took custody of him after his father went to prison. He's been living with me for two months now and his dad won't be out for a long, LONG time. Believe me. No one here knows him. The little town he came from was so podunk I doubt they keep records very well. Hell, no one even bothered to ask me to send his records anywhere. Trailer park trash heap of a nothing little town in the middle of nowhere. Which is just perfect for our needs."
Bruce realized Charley was listening in, standing in the doorway. The hunk lumbered in, his giant legs memerizing Bruce as the clomped along. Charley carried a bucket full of ice and brews. He proudly untwisted his cap and looked as eager as Bruce could imagine a grown man could look.
"Isn't this cool? I can do totally adult stuff now!" said Charley, his deep lovely voice resounding throughout the room and sending shivers down Bruce's back. Charley took a deep sip of the brew and Bruce followed suit. Dave, on the other hand, was cringing after chugging the beer himself.
"Boy, that's sure some powerful stuff, isn't it? I'll have to probably make do without it for the most part. But I can wait just a couple of years for that. In the meantime..." he said. "You, Bruce. Have you thought about it? You could find some kid, I'm sure you could, who'd be willing to trade in a life of recess and bullies for a chance to become a big grown up jock who can walk down the street and be the envy of all that look at him. That's another part of the spell...beauty on each side. And all that sex drive, too. Young Charley here's a virgin and all that sexual energy has condensed upon him. Now he's probably one of the best lovers you'll over come across."
"Uncle Dave...shhhh! I am not...I haven't even done that stuff yet."
"You can if you want to. Nobody stopping ya, Charley boy. Am I right or am I right?"
"This is all way too weird for me." said Bruce.
"As I thought it would be," said Dave. "But in the meantime, just think about it. I promise you...you have...time to think it over. Think about the industry nowadays. Kids are getting all the breaks. Charley here isn't missing out on anything, because he just wants to be an adult, big and strong, but us...we can get a chance at glory, dude. We can be the big shots we never were! Say you'll at least think about it."
Bruce didn't want to. The thought of being a child again was ludicrous, it was against nature, it was impractical in every way.
And he was already thinking of doing it.
"But...I would need someone to trade ages with, you said."
"You let me take care of that, brother. We'll find someone for you in no time. The next thing you know, you'll find some hot shot executives loaded with dough whose dream is to be with a 13 or 14 year old boy. You can seduce them and the next thing you know, you'll be bigger than that Culkin kid. I've already been working on that. There's a whole group of older men that want nothing more than a boy that doesn't have to be groomed. One that's willing and able. I sucked a few of their dicks already. You shoulda seen the looks on their faces. It's amazing to be this size again. Most men are so much bigger and stronger than me now. My little hole is gonna have to be broken in again. Heh. Oh, man. I definitely can't handle beer like I used to. Here, man. Have one on me."
"Damn, you are a lightweight again," Bruce commented.
"So are you in? We got a couple of street kids who are dying to be older and be given new identities."
"Does anyone else know about this?"
Davey smiled slyly. "How do you think I stumbled into all this? I knew a guy who wanted me to be his little boy, and it makes much more sense to shrink a grown man down all the way down than try to attempt anything with a real kid. I have the experience, know how, temperament, and maturity of a 37 year old man. In this hot, young body. Even if I don't get any roles, I have a sugar daddy who is going to be really good to me over the next few years."
"I'm really tempted, but I don't know if I'm ready to be a kid again. I kind of like being a grown up with all the privileges thereof."
"Maybe you aren't registering what I'm offering. This is magic we are talking about here, and if you don't take me up on this, you will regret it. Think about it. Being young again. Having the world at your fingertips. Having all the opportunity to be a celebrity in Hollywood. To be rich, young, and famous. Not to mention having hot daddy executives pampering the shit out of you. Come on. What do you say, Bruce?"
"Well..."