Giancarlo thought it was all a little bit weird. This old bat and her magic tricks. The same magic trick over and over. Guys go up and they change ages or grow muscles. None of this could be real but he couldn't figure out how she was doing it. Mirrors or something? All these people had to be in on it, they had to be actors. Well...he would prove that she was a charlatan.
"Hey, Madame Illusia! Why don't you invite me up!"
"Giancarlo, what are you doing?"
"Come on, son. And don't call me that in public," he whispered the last part to Devon as a warning. He grabbed his stepson by the nape of his neck and guided him towards the steps. They walked up on stage. Giancarlo winced in the spotlight and stepped away from it so he could see.
"It's bright up here!" he announced loudly to the audience. It was HIS audience now, he thought, pretty proud of himself for deciding to outstage this woman. She didn't know what she was in for! he thought. I'm gonna show everyone she's a fraud and a trickster. I'm not in on any of her games!
"Yes, we want everyone to see you, Mr. Pirillo!"
"Hey. How'd you know my name?" He smiled widely for the audience, grinned at them, gave them a winner's smile. He moved his body to show off his immense, hard earned muscles, covered in tattoos and dripping sex appeal. He had sideburns and model slick black hair. He was in his early 30s and at the pinnacle of manliness. He was average height at 5'10" but was a solid bodybuilder with 9% fat and a face that could have been in cologne ads and GQ. Ruggedly handsome with beautiful eyes. He knew he was charming. He knew he was a 10. He knew every woman on Earth would rather be fucked by HIM rather than whatever beta ugly ass husband she got knocked up by. Hell, even good looking guys couldn't hold a candle to him. Italian good looks didn't begin to describe his appeal. But he didn't go in for any faggot modeling shit. He just used his looks to do whatever he wanted to do. He managed an entire company because he fucked the owner's daughter, who couldn't get enough of him. She was married and couldn't leave her husband but she introduced him to her family and her husband, the owner's son, was beginning to look to him for advice on how to handle people and be more confident.
Giancarlo was a confidence factory. He was a professional pick up artist. Oftentimes, women would offer to pay him to be an escort but he only accepted the ones that could afford him, the really rich older divorcees that craved a real man. He had received cars, family heirlooms, jewels and furniture, expensive watches, the works.
He had, at some point in his travels, come across a woman who he had knocked up. Some waitress in some small town in Kansas. She had a son already and after she gave birth, unexpectedly died. Giancarlo had worked it out with her parents that they raise the baby boy and he would take Devon back to the East Coast. He reasoned that he could do better financially back home.
Anyway, he'd been trying to do the kid a favor but Giancarlo turned out to be a shitty father. He was an alcoholic, and even when his short lived wife had been alive, they had fought constantly over his womanizing and drinking. He always thought of it as his reward for bringing home the bacon, which she also had a problem with. Seeing older women to get their money and riches didn't sit well with his wife. At least now he didn't have to deal with all the nagging, he thought.
Devon was a bit of a pussy, though, and he'd been trying to toughen the kid up, trying to teach him to fight with a knife, and the little pussy just said he didn't want to stab anyone.
"Well yeah, but if you're in an alleyway and you get jumped, you'll be glad I taught you how to stab someone," he'd reasoned.
Anyway, he got angry and drank and screamed at his kid and sometimes he roughed him up a little bit but the little pussy had just cried and cried.
"Would you stop fucking crying? Stand UP FOR YOURSELF!"
"You're a bully!" his stepson Devon had cried. Devon was only ten. Sometimes he forgot that and treated him like he was a much older kid, even going so far as to suggest they have a couple of beers together one night.
"I'm only ten."
"So? I'm your dad and if I say you can have a beer, you can. And you love me, right? I'm the best dad ever. Right? Right? I'm the best dad ever. Come on. Say I'm the best dad ever."
"You're not. You're not my dad!"
"I am your dad and you love me! I do everything I do for you! I bring home money so we can live!" Giancarlo spanked him for that and sent Devon to bed, and then later apologized, and hugged his boy, who cried. "I'm sorry, son. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? Please don't be mad with me, okay?" He had slurred his words drunkenly and Devon had forgiven him.
Devon suspected that his stepdad was up to no good. For months before he found work, he was always with various women, driving them places. Devon didn't even know where they had gone. But Giancarlo just didn't care. He was always in the mood for a party, for a night on the town. Devon often went to bed hungry after his mother died, before he learned to cook his own meals, which he made all the time now.
In many ways, Devon was mature beyond his years and Giancarlo was acting like a teenager in high school. Which was bad, because he was already a hit at work. He'd used his charisma and looks to climb ahead in a company where the old man in charge needed to pass the reins to just the right man, and so long as he was boning the boss' daughter and teaching her husband how to be a real man like him, an alpha male, he was sure to make at least vice president. If he didn't screw it up, which meant partying less and going out to bars less.
That meant being at home and drinking there more often. And he got fed up with Devon being such a sad sack. He needed to make the kid happy so he loved him again, just like old times, he thought.
Carnivals are perfect for that. I'll take him down there and he'll be my boy again in no time. We can put all this stuff behind us, all the getting drunk and yelling. He'll forget. It's not like I don't say I'm sorry.
Giancarlo flexed in front of the audience, showing off his massive muscular bod, covered with tattoos. God, they are loving this! he thought. All the queers in the audience were cheering for his amazing body. He realized most of them had to be gay and thought he'd give them a show. Maybe some of them could buy him drinks. Queers were always good for that, they were so easy. Just a little flex of the old biceps and they were putty in his hands.
"Tut tut tut. Such a mess. You shouldn't have spanked young Devon like that, Mr. Pirillo!"
"What?" He had been stunned. The audience was silently watching. Everything had grown still. He realized he couldn't move. "Hey. What...what's going on?"
"I needed to put a stop to your showing off. Your flexing in front of the crowd was distracting from my performance. Now then," the old woman, who was much, much older than she looked (and she looked ancient already) stared him in the eye. "You are quite possibly one of the most ridiculous excuses for a father I have ever seen. I think young Devon should be the father of this family." And after that, Madame Illusia told the audience all about his life, the details of his affair. Giancarlo's eyes bulged as the Madame Illusia exposed all of his deepest, darkest secrets.
"Giancarlo, is all this true?" Devon asked. He could still move, and he looked up at his wound be father. "Did you really do all that stuff?"
"I did it for you, son!"
"There is love here, but you are no father. This is the dilemma, Mr. Pirillo!" The Madame wrung her hands. "I hate to see a family so in need of intervention. That is why I...intervene," she raised an eyebrow. "You do realize now that I DO have magic powers, yes? There are no tricks in my tent, Mr. Pirillo. Or should I say, little Devon!"
He began to go down an elevator. Very slowly. Soon he was at the Madame's eye level. Then Devon's eye level. Yet, he was standing on the stage still. There was no doorway he was sinking into. He was able to look down and move his head enough to see that.
Giancarlo screamed. "Stop! STOP! STOP! STOOOOOOOOOOP! STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!! PLEASE, NO! NOT THAT! PLEASE I DON'T WANNA BE HIM, I DON'T WANNA BE A KID AGAIN! NOOOOOOOOO!" His face transformed, began to shift bones and grow smaller. His arms and legs and body were shrinking, shrinking, shrinking, falling inwards. The loss of muscle mass was alarming. He could feel himself becoming lighter and lighter.
He was a child with a man's head, with rich thick black stubble. He licked his lips and felt it prickling against his tongue. And then something happened where it felt like someone had ripped a mask off of him and his skin was now exposed to the air after a long time of being trapped. He licked his lips again and couldn't find any stubble.
"No way," he said in Devon's voice. "No way! No waaAAAAyy!" His voice was cracking. "You have to stOP this!" His voice sharply cracked, as he pleaded with Devon, who was watching and had the biggest smile on his face.
Devon had pale looks. He wasn't a bad looking kid. Somewhat sullen looking, with heavy eyelids for a ten year old, and dull brown mud colored hair. He wasn't the kid that you noticed. He looked mature for his age, he just had a look to him that spoke of quiet dignity.
And now he knew, he looked just like his stepson.
Devon turned back to Madame Illusia. "is it...my turn now...Ma'am?"
"It is. It is time SOMEone in this family grew up!" Madame threw her fingers up in the air and whirled them around, with a slightly aggravated look on her face, which turned to pride as she busied herself with her newest bit of work.
Devon grew quickly, his body elongated, and his shirt began to stretch and resist against his body, which was growing so large, the Madame stopped for a moment, snapped her fingers and the young man found himself naked briefly before a pair of boxer briefs appeared.
Giancarlo was still drowning in his leather jacket and T shirt, pants had fallen down and crowded around his legs. The Madame snapped her fingers and the growing resumed. Devon filled out, He watched his arms elongate and contract, swell as if being filled like a water balloon in slow motion. It took several minutes for the muscle transfer to occur. It was like being filled with a water balloon made of concrete, he thought. His arms grew round like softballs, and tattoos spread out over them. His legs spread out like crazy and his form became that of Giancarlo. His chest sped up the process of becoming pecs and whereas before he was entirely flat chested, now they became slightly rounded, now a little more, now expanding into a slight cleavage, now his back was filling in, now the pecs were deepening. He moaned. He moaned as it felt overwhelmingly good for his pecs to grow out and out and out. He didn't know it could feel this way to have so much muscle attached to his body, responding to his every sensation. It felt better than he could have imagined. The absolute power and strength and sex appeal came flooding in to him.
"Oh yeah," Devon said, sounding sixteen. "This is amazing!" His voice wasn't cracking at all. So much testosterone flooded through him he had already gone through puberty in mere minutes. "This the best feeling I've ever felt oh oh oh!! OHHHH!" His dick finally grew. His balls dropped, and stretched obscenely like a giant banana against the fabric of the boxer briefs.
"This feels....so much better. So much better. Yeah, this feels like I should be in this body. Holy shit," he was saying it all in Giancarlo's deep, sexy voice. The Madame snapped her fingers. He was wearing Giancarlo's clothes and he was wearing Devon's kid clothes...and body.
"I think this is much better. Devon will carry on for you at work. Do not worry about the woman in the office. She will find you attractive still, but her husband is in much need sexually of being with a man. Therefore from this day on, you will be bisexual with a preference for men. The only woman you shall see will be...what is her name?"
"Leah"
"Yes, you will find her attractive but other than her, you will only be with men. That way your wish will be granted. I know what you wished for, after all. To be nothing like your stepfather. You are going to be kind and considerate at work, but you will also have his gifts and talents for charisma and teaching others to be confident. You will be wonderful with sales." She snapped her fingers. Devon blinked. He suddenly had all the confidence in the world!
"This is better. Come on, Devon. We're going home right now!" The new stepfather led his stepson away. Madame Illusia's son Stefan talked with the New Giancarlo briefly before he left.
"You gonna drive, slick?" he asked the new Devon when they got back to the car. Devon pulled out HIS new car keys and unlocked it. "Get in, buddy. We need to have a long talk before we get out of here." The man and the boy got in on opposite sides that they normally did. This time Devon was in the driver's seat. He looked at his gorgeous, masculine reflection. "Yeah, I like this. This is good. You realize why this happened, right?"
"I couldn't say anything before. She wouldn't let me," Giancarlo as his stepson began to say. "But, for whatever the reason, that lady...I feel like, very happy. Like I'm on drugs. I'm just gonna tell myself this is all a drug trip," he mumbled and turned to sleep in his seat.
"You think that all you want, but it isn't true. I'm Giancarlo now. I'm the head of the family. I'm the dad. I'm gonna be your dad and it's for the best. Do you love me, son? Because I love you," he choked up a bit. Even manly men can get choked up sometimes, he thought. Especially when it came to the love of a father and son. "This is the way it's gonna be. And I'm gonna be a real good dad. I'm gonna love you. I know you loved me sometimes but you fucked up a lot of the rest of the time. Now that I'm this hot amazing adult, I'm not gonna waste it. The Madame told me I had to be a good dad, the good dad you never could be. That's the deal. You'll be a lot happier, too. It's part of the magic. You'll feel real good for the next few weeks. After that, it's up to you as to whether or not to accept me as your father. She can always turn you back if you're miserable enough, but you might not like the body she gives you if you complain."
"So this is really happening, I'm Devon now."
"You are Devon. I am Giancarlo. And...I can totally drive now. You wanna go home, son? Son of mine. Who I love and love. See, that's your problem. You needed to be more loving. Less narcissistic. Parents need to learn to think of others first and you never did that. But I'm not gonna do that. I'm NOT gonna do that. I'm gonna always think about your well being. No alcohol in the house from now on. Though I might help myself to a cigar tomorrow."
Devon didn't remember much about the drive home. He remembered Giancarlo's big arms wrapping around him and carrying him and he remembered feeling pleasure from being held by his Daddy. He woke up the next morning with his teddy bear and came downstairs to see his stepfather cooking a big breakfast for them. It was Daddy's day off from work. He got weekends off just like Devon.
"You're still huge."
"And you're still short, just like this stack of pancakes! Take some pancakes and bacon, son!"
They ate together. The New Giancarlo flexed in the mirror throughout the day as the two got acquainted with their new bodies. The New Devon found himself looking way up at his Dad and for some reason...it felt right. It felt good. Daddy was so important and big and strong. He loved his new Dad. So much.
The New Giancarlo couldn't wait to start his new life as a grown man. There was so much to do and experience, but he had to put his son's needs first. No partying just yet. Diligent, hard work at the company, and attending to his son's needs, making sure they had food and that the bills were paid, making sure the car was working alright, making sure that he was working out enough with his dumbbells and barbells in the garage.
Both the new father and son were excited to see what would happen next...