Brendan knew what he signed up for.
At least, that was what he tried to tell himself as he sat there in a veritable puddle of his own sweat, clad in only his tighty whities, his newly effeminate face streaked with exertion and perspiration. What had once been a decently athletic, muscular body was now tighter, slimmer but much more toned, his skin gone from rather pasty due to British ancestry to very well tanned. A few strands of blonde hair fell in front of Brendan's eyes - instead of the brown hair he had merely an hour ago. His bright blue eyes moved from the lamp in the corner of the room, to the door presently jiggling around as the lock was fiddled with.
A long breath escaped Brendan's lips. He looked down at his hands. His fingernails had never looked quite so exquisitely manicured. The hands they were attached to were soft, boyish looking. He'd gone from a man decidedly of the age of 28 to someone who could at best pass for 24 if he really dressed for it. "Wow...wow, that was...that was really something else." The voice that came out was also different from his usual. He distinctly remembered his moans heightening as he experienced the change - going from masculine deep to a distinctly effeminate, lighter voice.
Then the door popped open, and Scott entered the room. He had light brown hair, brown eyes, slightly dusky, almost brown skin, and dressed in a white button up shirt, a black jacket, and studded jeans. His boots must've been something like 500 dollars - and those were probably among the cheaper pair in his inventory. His eyes were covered by a pair of gleaming sunglasses. "And here we are, Lucky Contestant. You've taken to the procedure rather well - glad to see you're up and at em."
The man then leaned forward and whispered, "How many orgasms was it?"
Brendan bit his lip and scowled, "You didn't tell me going in it was gonna be so fuckin' intense! It---It was six. Six back to back fucking orgasms. Swear, if you broke my dick..." Brendan wasn't happy with the way he sounded trying to be upset with Scott. But he did his best.
"We told you it was gonna be an awesome experience for the ages." Scott said with a slight chuckle. "And besides, can you really complain about the most intense orgasms you've had in weeks?" Scott pulled his sunglasses and winked - and Brendan already decided that if he had his way, this would be among the last times he interacted with Scott. Sure, most of Mr. LaBete's crew were kind of odious and gave the vibe of people who were only rich because they grabbed on to him - but Scott had it the worst.
"Sure, man," Brendan crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, "Sure."
Before long, Brendan got up, and followed Scott out. Part of the agreement and part of the show was a new wardrobe.
And they got to select what it was. And going off of the changes so far to Brendan's body, he could guess that they were going to play things pretty close to the hilt as it were. Everybody knew LaBete Entertainment. One of the biggest, richest channels on YouTube - people had made this guy a billionaire. Nobody knew his real name - just that he was fabulously wealthy going into YouTube fame, and he became extravagantly wealthy after it. And now, he was making a Reality TV Dating Series of some kind.
Brendan, always eager and desperate for his big "way in" to TV, had agreed to do it. Not knowing the kind of shit that these people could pull with all that money. He didn't even know how they did this to him. They sure weren't telling anybody who agreed to take part. For his part, Brendan wondered if everybody else involved in the ground level had underwent as thorough and complete a transformation as he had.
For now, following Scott down an empty hallway covered only in flyers promoting a bunch of Vids that LaBete did, Brendan felt like he was indeed marching down the tongue into the belly of the beast. The further he went in, the more flyers he saw. That grinning, empty eyed expression. That constant "thumbs up" or gesturing at some poor unfortunate souls that he was about to subject to bizarre and invasive challenges...
Brendan doubted he would be meeting the man himself.
That was why Scott was here, after all.
Before long however, they found themselves at a dressing room. Brendan had actually started to feel a little clammy. The sheer heat from the "transforming room" was starting to wear off, and the young man was beginning to realize he had marched this far down a chilly hallway in nothing but his underwear. But then, the featureless door opened in what seemed like just a random section of wall - and bright lights greeted the two of them.
And Brendan stepped inside, trying to flare his shoulders and lats out more to seem less like a girly boy. Less like what he looked like. Indeed, most of the clothes in here were vibrant, brightly colored, and from numerous gay men's clothing brands. All soft material, tight pants, and made for the kind of guy that Brendan looked like.
"Go ahead and get dressed, big man~!" Scott intoned and shut the door behind him.
Brendan sighed and looked around. He peeled off his underwear, looking for the first time at his dick. It too was smaller, making him let out a sigh of disappointment - though it was not as small as it could've been. As he brushed his hand against it, he bit his lip to stop a moan from escaping his mouth. Sure, it was smaller, but FUCK it was a lot more sensitive. Just thinking of his girlfriend going down on him with his dick like this made Brendan grin - and his ass flexed. His dick bobbed a bit, a little precum starting to drool out.
He stopped himself - not wanting to potentially make a fool of himself on TV. He didn't know how much was being filmed. And honestly, he didn't trust them not to be filming when they said they weren't. Brendan picked out a pair of tight, form flattering underwear, a tight fit light blue shirt, a pair of tight jeans, and a lavender vest. As Brendan got dressed, he found himself easing into the clothes. He'd had his misgivings about dressing like this... but actually putting the clothes on made him sigh and smile, enjoying how soft the material was on his skin.
"Mmm..." Brendan looked at a mirror in one of the corners of the dressing room, grinning at his reflection, "Sure, looks kiiiinda gay...but it feels fuckin' nice." He promptly bit his lip and looked up, giving a pouty, adorable expression to himself that Brendan didn't even know he could make. He shook his head before long, though, and crossed his arms - just as he went to move toward the door, Scott opened it back up, a smile across his features.
"You really seem to be enjoying our selection of attire, aren't you?" Scott intoned, adjusting his glasses.
"Well, they are nice clothes and all." Brendan admitted.
"Follow me along and you'll be given the full explanation of the show, and what's expected of you. Don't fall behind~!" And with that, Scott led the way further along those chilly, dismal hallways. Honestly, it was a bit telling that LaBete made a place like this his pad. A location with nothing but promotions of himself and occasionally the projects of his friends and sufficiently devoted hangers on. In more ways than one it exemplified who this guy was.
Before long however they stepped into an office space, a table at the center - a basic black table with 18 touchscreen tablets laid out in an array around the whole circular display. Three rings of six tablets. It was perhaps a bit too on the nose considering his vaguely infernal naming, but Brendan had come this far, he doubted they would just call everything off without getting litigious. Not that Brendan could afford anything of the sort.
He picked up one of the tablets, and the face of that grinning idiot formed nigh on instantly as the tablet powered on, his loud, shrill voice echoing out from the device as he said, "ONE! TWO! THREE!! TESTING TESTING!! Oh there you are, Lucky Contestant!" And then the display pulled back, showing the eccentric billionaire sitting on a table. The man grinned, as he always did in his challenges, "Welcome to the latest of LaBete Entertainment's many entertaining reality TV shows, a prime successor to the LaBete Games phenomenon!"
A...funny way to say "a show that injured multiple people, caused incredible amounts of pain and trauma, and endured multiple lawsuits", but then, here Brendan was working for him. So what did THAT say, mm? Brendan nodded along...and boy did the guy go on.
"You're going to be participating in a marvelous experiment of sexuality and subversion!" LaBete gestured as a massive sign lit up above him, displaying the words "TWINKING OUT!" in bright yellow, pink, red, blue and white letters. "Welcome, Lucky Contestant, to Twinking Out! A gameshow that dares ask the question - how far does your sexuality go?" The YouTube Star then continued explaining, "As you probably experienced in the Changing Room, your body is no longer your own! It has been changed into the body of a man from the gay subculture known as "Twinks"!"
A gesture at a screen on a wall, and LaBete showed off several slim, effeminate men loitering around the heady atmosphere of a gay club. Then the man continued, "Of course, we can't very well just completely change your sexuality. As we know, THAT's impossible." He then trailed along his next word, "Howwwwwwweverrrrrr! We can alter stimulus, induce certain responses, and make things a little more fluid."
And that made Brendan at least a little more worried. He didn't know what that even meant. But at least he wasn't gonna be like...unable to get it up for his girlfriend or whatever.
"You'll have one week to adjust to your new body. One week to either try and return to your ways, or...fall into the temptations of your new body! And either way, once a week's gone by..." The host mimed looking at his Rolex watch and tapping it, "You'll be joining 17 other similarly transformed young men in a house provided by ME, your wondrous, generous and oh so caring host!" LaBete disappeared from the screen, and instead Brendan found himself looking at a huge, generously sized house, all white or light blue walls - currently empty, but not that way for long. Many amenities - a swimming pool, a workout area, a sunning / tanning area...
Then the display faded and LaBete returned, "Here's how it works: we will have our cameras trained on you every hour of every day, to give a stunning highlights reel to our paying audiences. Every second day, you'll be brought out to a Challenge Spot - a gay club, a certain gym, a rave, something! And any of you who gets caught up in the atmosphere and acts the part of your new form will get a strike. Three strikes and you're outta my show - and you keep your new body, on top of it. And audiences! Let's talk audiences! Your girlfriends and fuck buddies will be there to watch you either succeed...or Suck Seed."
And LaBete laughed. He laughed because of course he laughed. The idea of broadcasting relationships possibly disintegrating or outright imploding on live television was probably how HE got hard during all of this.
Shit, shit shit shit, there was the fucking catch.
If Brendan ended up sucking a dick or something...well. Three times gettin' caught and he'd be stuck like this.
LaBete continued after getting some of his sadism out of his system, "Well, anyway...if anyone makes it to the end of two months without all three strikes, they'll get their original body back and then some! Improvements! On the house! The same tech we used to change you will be used to give you as much muscle, as much in the ways of good looks as you want. You'll be set for Hollywood...if you make it."
And with that, the broadcast ended, and Brendan stopped himself from sinking to his knees.
He was fucked...no. No. Best not to dwell upon that. Best not to even think about being fucked.
------------
At least they were generous Exploitation TV show hosts.
Brendan was given a drive out from the Corporate HQ to the suburban apartment he shared with his girlfriend - a suitcase by his side full of the clothes he would have to get used to wearing from here on out per the contract.
He found himself just staring at his lap. Trying not to look outside today - a hot, sweltering June Summer day. There were plenty of guys outside, running around or biking shirtless. And while Brendan was still rather confident in his heterosexuality despite his appearances, he didn't want to tempt fate or anything of the like. He'd really fucked around and found out this time. LaBete was nothing if not one of the most infamous men in the reality TV show circuit - and he'd earned that with the first few TV shows ending up how they did.
Didn't someone like fucking die in one of the early ones...?
Well, at least there seemed to be little danger of that with this one. Just...again. Utter exploitation of identities, people, and situations. And yet Brendan had not only signed up, not only done a telephone interview, but had enthusiastically gone out there to meet with the representative - who had turned out to be fucking Scott.
Brendan breathed and looked at his soft hands as he felt the car pull and turn - beginning to drive down the street into the line of apartments at which Brendan lived. By the time it stopped, the door opened up on its own and Brendan stepped outside - regretting picking the less revealing of the clothes for the kind of day it turned out to be.
The young man took one step after another, somberly moving up a staircase and, suitcase in hand, awkwardly finagled with his keys as he opened up the door. As he walked inside, he could hear his girlfriend in the kitchen, likely just finished up cooking something up for his return. "Hey babe~!" He shouted, his new voice sounding more like it would belong to someone calling to a different person altogether, "It's all done and...well, you can probably see and hear the difference."
His girlfriend quickly paused what she was doing and headed out to get a look.
Dressed in a tank top and a skirt, Brendan's girlfriend Caitlin was every bit as much of a fitness fanatic as he was usually. And now, she was probably a little bit bigger than him. She had dark brown, curly hair tied back in a ponytail, light green eyes, and tanned skin. Caitlin had been with him for four years at this point - and they were every bit as passionate and intense as they were that first night in the club.
Caitlin sighed, and whistled as she took a look at him, "They really went all in on you for this one, Brendan. Fuck. You look like my old gay bestie from high school..." She moved up closer to him - and indeed, to Brendan's newly twinky form, she was closer to him in height now. She wrapped her arms around him, "You okay...?"
"Just...really fuckin' worried, babe." Honestly, Brendan hoped he didn't start developing the fucking accent too. "I'm gonna win this. I'm gonna win this, and we'll make it in Hollywood."
"I sure hope so." She hugged him tight...and then started kissing him on the lips, "You wanna get some of your worries outta your system with me?" She began feeling up Brendan's body, and the young man went from anxious and worried to starting to feel the call of romance as it were in mere moments. He knew he couldn't just sit around and be miserable...and he couldn't really say no to his girlfriend touching him and talking like that in his ear...
"You wanna test out this new body?" She whispered, cupping his ass with one hand - making Brendan gasp and press his rock hard dick against her, even with how reduced it was. "Oooh, responsive..." Caitlin started kissing him intensely. "You still man enough to give it to me hard, pretty boy?"
"Trust me, babe," Brendan grinned, "I'm still every bit the man you love where it counts."
Food later. Sex now.
Brendan and Caitlin moved into the living room, and both collapsed on to the couch - clothes quickly being slung left right and center...