Even though Paul was happy that the resort was willing to send a bus to the airport, he couldn't help but be a bit frustrated over who all was riding with him. A group of college aged guys rode in the back of the bus already getting drunk. They had long since lost control of their volume and were shouting all the way to the resort. They pushed their way off, not caring about a single person that they passed. Their backpacks and luggage bounced back and forth as they dragged it off the bus.
Paul never felt like he would become some kind of curmudgeon. Even as he made his way into his fifties, he'd felt like he'd been able to keep up with his grandkids and could handle the higher amounts of energy they had. However, seeing this frat guys pound beer after beer and scream at the top of their lungs, he almost wished to be back home. This was supposed to be a quiet private vacation he'd get to spend after losing his wife. Now, he worried about these guys rough housing in the pool. Or running up and down the halls banging on doors in the middle of the night. Or something worse.
Paul said a silent prayer as he let a younger couple who looked to be on their honeymoon off before him. They had the same look of frustrated terror on their faces as him. "I've heard the resort has good security," he forced a smile, trying to think of some way that this group of guys wouldn't be causing an annoyance to everyone there.
They nodded. Everyone else proceeded off the bus and towards the main part of the resort. There were three lines forming as everyone was getting ready to check in. Paul waited patiently in his line before being called up to a young woman behind the counter. "May I have your room number?"
"A43," Paul responded. "Paul Wilkinson."
The woman typed it into the computer. Her eyes went wide. "Excuse me. If I could have one second please," she bowed and quickly went to the back room. Paul started to worry a bit. After all the funeral arrangements with his wife, he had made sure that he was still paid in full. The resort employee returned with the largest man Paul had ever seen. Towering over everyone else with shoulders so broad they looked to have trouble fitting through door frames.
"Paul Wilkinson?" the man's deep voice echoed off the large lobby. Everyone looked over at the old man standing in front of the counter. Paul weakly nodded. "Please follow me."
Paul did as he was told. He stood at the end of the counter and waited for the massive man to lead the way. "Is there a problem with my reservation?" Paul asked meekly. The big man didn't even turn around to speak to him. He grabbed what looked like a key fob and started walking down one of the halls.
It wasn't until they were in an elevator that he answered. "No. Nothing like that," the giant said. He scanned the fob on the elevator and it began moving. "You have received a special room. I'm afraid we aren't allowed to speak about it around the other guests. They might get jealous," a bit of a devious smirk filled his face as he said it.
The doors opened and he stepped into the massive condo suite. Paul sputtered out random syllables as he tried to grasp what was going on. "But I can't afford this," he was finally able to say. This was bigger than his house. It had a full kitchen, three bedrooms, a computer room, several bathrooms, one even had a built in sauna, and a living room with the biggest screen TV he'd ever seen mounted on the wall.
The manager chuckled. "This isn't even the best part..." he said. "Here. Come look at this screen." Despite his size, his hand gently pressed against the back of Paul's back and led him to a smaller panel on the wall. Paul did as he was told and a beam of light shot out at him.
'New user registered.' A computer voice announced through the room.
Paul looked around. He knew he was a bit older, but not completely tech illiterate. "What was that?" he backed away from it.
"That's to confirm our VIP room. Now that you have been registered, you'll be able to do a lot more. As a guest of the Transformation Resort, I'm sure you're aware that you don't always leave the way you came in," he chuckled. "However, most people who stay with us don't exactly get the choice on how they change. Whether they frustrate the wrong stage magician and become part of his act or go down the wrong hallway, they may have something change them. It's one of the joys of being in the resort. The sheer randomness based solely off of your personality and choices makes it a bit fun. However, as the VIP you are now in control of whatever changes you would like to make. It can be to staff or guests. However, staff is still required to be able to complete their jobs."
It took Paul a few minutes to really comprehend what was being said to him. He was rapidly catching up though. It might have been that the system was supplying him with the information as well. "What all can I change?" he asked.
"Anything," the manager said. "You don't think I was born this way do you?" he chuckled flexing his arms.
Of course Paul was already starting to have a bit of fun with the new power he'd gotten. He'd upped the pride the manager had over his muscular body and increased the desire to show it off. The black jacket of the suit the man had been wearing was quick to come off. The long white sleeves held tightly against the shirt and buttons looked to already be straining.
"Most people say that it's through hard work," Paul chuckled. He leaned on the corner of the couch as he watched the manager go into another flex. Paul changed the size of the manager's clothes, shrinking them by a half of a size. The shirt vacuumed itself to the massive man's body. Every contour of his hard muscles was fully on display. His biceps looked to be the size of cantaloupes. His shoulders massive cannonballs stretched the shirt. Buttons were beginning to break.
The two massive pecs were starting to push their way out. "I suppose," the manager laughed as he went into yet another flex. "But where's the fun in that?" He spun around showing off the wide lat spread. Paul went ahead and shrunk his clothes by another half size. There was no holding back. The manager's massive hard body was tearing through the fabric that had been containing him. It started with small rips and tears, but the moment he completed the pose it was torn asunder.
The fancy white shirt barely clung to his massive upper body. The manager's pants looked to be struggling all the same. If not for his incredibly thin waist and thick muscular ass, the dangling remnants of his clothes were have fallen down to his feet. With a few more movements, the manager removed the torn clothing. All that was left was the tight underwear currently holding a massive bulge.
"I see you really like flexing," Paul noted. Of course that was mostly because of the power from the VIP suite, but he didn't remember adding anything sexual about the posing. Not that he was complaining. Even if he'd never told his wife, they had an unspoken knowledge about how he felt about men. The only sex they had had was specifically to procreate. That and a few of her birthdays. He'd never pressure her, nor would he lust after other woman. However, men, he had a much harder time keeping his eyes off of.
The manager laughed. "With a body like this, how can't I?" he threw up a double bicep pose. Now without any clothes on it was impossible to miss the absolute size and strength built within the man. Every part of him bulged. His biceps were larger than most people's heads. His chest pushed far out in front of him with perfectly sculpted pecs. A cobblestone road led down to an rather impressive crotch. Then there were two legs that could easily be mistaken for tree trunks if not for being attached to a man. The thick striations of muscle that crisscrossed his body was impossible to miss. "Now," the manager returned to his more subservient roll. "Is there anything else I can do you for?"
Paul couldn't help but notice the manager's eyes drift down to his own bulge. It wasn't nearly as large and impressive as the other man's, but he did try to massage it down. "N-no," Paul choked out. It still felt as though it were some kind of dream. "I'm okay."
"Very well," the manager said, not caring one bit about his lost clothing. "I do hope you enjoy your stay."
"Thank you!" Paul said as the door closed.