"Comin' right up!" the bartender says, giving you a quick wink as
he reaches beneath the bar and pours you a shot from a
bluish-black bottle.
You've never had that much experience with alcohol - hell, you're
only fifteen, really, but this hot new 21-year-old body tells you you
can pretty much handle anything.
"There ya go, buddy." He slaps the shot down in front of you, and
before you can even pretend to reach for your wallet, he's off to
the other end of the bar.
'Well,' you think to yourself, 'Here goes nothing.' You pick up the
shot glass and down it, feeling a strang hot/cold feeling as it
rockets down your throat to your stomach.
You close your eyes, enjoying the intense sensation of the shot,
and you're kind of disappointed when the liquor just kind of
sends a warm tingling sensation through your new body, but you
are feeling more relaxed now, so you take a look around.
Seems like some of the guys who came in with what you thought
were elaborate costumes have added to them now; the guy
down the bar from you who was wearing a pair of donkey ears is
now undoing his pants to pull out a long tail (and it looks like
he's got something kind of big stuffed in the front of his pants as
well).
'Wow, that looks real,' you think to yourself, but you are strangely
calm about that... must be what was in that drink.
And there's the bartender in front of you again.
"Like that, buddy?" he asks.
You nod, and he laughs.
"Well, let's not lose you totally; you seem like a pretty nice guy."
You have no idea what he's talking about, but he's mixing you
another drink, this time from what looks like a bottle made of old
pottery.
"This here's pretty special... something from my dad's place in
Greece." He sets a small glass of something purple-y in front of
you, and this time you have a chance to catch his eyes.
'This guy is kind of hot,' you catch yourself thinking, then blushing
at having such thoughts... what would your girlfriend think?
He chuckles as though he's read your mind, and pushes the
drink closer to you.
"Bottom's up," he beams, and you drink the drink in one swallow.
This time it hits your stomach faster, and although it feels pretty
good, your whole body seems to be tensing up.
"What was that?" you ask the bartender, but he's off with another
customer again, so you end up staring at your own reflection
from the mirror behind him.
You're still pretty amazed by the sight of your now-21-year-old
self in the mirror, especially when you notice your sexy build and
the new goatee... you've never had facial hair at all before! As
you look, you raise your arm, flexing your biceps... were they that
big before, when you first came in?
As you watch in astonishment, your muscles swell even larger,
the t-shirt becoming tight so quickly you have to pull it over your
head. This is tough, because your lat muscles are pushing your
arms out further as they swell with hard muscle, but you
manage.
Now, in your white tank, you notice that your previously-smooth
chest has sprouted whorls of hair, growing so fast on your chest
that you can actually see it grow!
In a moment of panic you turn to see the donkey-tail guy from
before pull off his pants down the bar from you, his asinine
genitals swelling larger as he staggers away from the bar. His
face is now distending and very clearly is becoming the muzzle
of a donkey.
But this doesn't seem to be what's happening to you. You look in
the mirror as your face seems to harden more and become even
more rugged-looking, your goatee filling in to a short beard.
There is a ripping sound as you see your still swelling muscle
start to rip the shoulders of your tank top, and you marvel at your
thick huge masculine hands as you manage to tear off the shirt
and toss it aside.
Off to the side, you catch the bartender looking at you
approvingly, and a wave of erotic pleasure washes over you
suddenly, and you feel your mature cock stir in your pants, which
you are now aware are becoming way too tight for comfort.
The bartender sidles back over to you and before you know it
you've reached over the bar and pulled his face to yours, kissing
him.
"I'm sorry... I don't know why I did that," you mumble, but you're
now distracted by the sound of your own voice, which seems to
have dropped a couple of octaves.
"I'm not sorry," the bartender grins at you. "You might wanna get
those off, buddy," he says, gesturing at your pants, which, under
your bulging muscles and throbbing cock, look like they're barely
painted on.
Before you can even reach to undo them, however, the seams of
the pants and your underwear beneath them, give out, almost
exploding from your body, and you get a first look at what's been
going on there...