Essence

 

“My god, haha! Look at me, bro!” Your friend spoke with an unfamiliar lush and velvety voice. Demarcus stood laughing uncontrollably at his abrupt transformation. The mystic boardshorts glowed a bright fluorescent green, as he flexed his new ebony muscles. A stirring in your pants brought you back to earth. You walked up to him, flabbergasted, and felt the muscles under his beautiful black skin: strong and shiny as diamonds. “I told you it’d work!” He grasped you in a bear hug, his newfound height aided him significantly in raising you a foot off the ground.

“You mean, your aunt wasn’t joking? She really is a voodoo queen?” Demarcus dropped you onto the ground, your bum landing hard on the old wooden floors. An eyebrow raised, he crosses his arms, waiting for you to finally concede. “Alright. Fine. You were right, I was wrong. Now gimme the damn briefs!” He smiled that joyful grin, and spun around, rummaging through his backpack. You plopped backward onto the bed, head spinning. Moments ago, Demarcus was the shortest and lankiest guy in the gym. It seemed fitting that you two were drawn together. From your perch on the elliptical machines, you two longingly gazed at the penultimate goal: bulging biceps, thick calves, abs pulsating through the tight under armour shirts. So, when Demarcus dropped the fact that his aunt claimed she was a voodoo queen, and she was in town, you two had made a bet. Either she was legitimate, or she was not.

“Here ya go, brutha. Try them on for size.” Tossing you the damp compression shorts, he lounged against his old wooden desk, now dwarfed by his incredible stature. You didn’t believe in such ridiculous hooplah. But, here was the proof! Standing before you! Demarcus looked as if he was inflated with a bike pump, muscles bulging from every ounce of his being. It seemed second nature to swipe the clothes from the fittest guy in the locker room, albeit a bit creepy, but to sprinkle the strange grey dust on it? And then to sport the oversized and filthy workout gear? Absolutely ridiculous.

Yet, as you held the moist and fragrant undergarment in your hand, an uncontrollable thirst overtook you. The curiosity of your end destination. The lust for a perfect body. The overall alluring nature of the situation… It was too much. You had to at least try.

You tossed off your pants and boxers, and slipped on the sweat-moist compression shorts. A patch of particular wetness at your balls made you shiver. Being so close to another man, his sweat literally on you. You took a deep breath. Demarcus watched impatiently for you to inflate with muscle as he did minutes before, but was instantly disappointed. Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. You sat there, holding the XL compression shorts around your waist, looking like a complete dumbass. Just when you were about to slip them off, you felt a rumbling in your stomach. Demarcus grinned that shiteating grin as a bubbling sound emitted from your stomach. As if being stretched like taffy, your torso grew and stretched, while your legs followed suit. In seconds, you had grown to a substantial 6′6: just a touch above Demarcus.

The grumbling sound, sounding similar to gas flowing through your bowels, only grew louder, as you felt tightness and pinpricks all across your body.

“It’s working! It’s working dude!” Demarcus’ shorts tented as you began to inflate. Slowly at first, but steadily growing in vivacity and pace. It felt as if every muscle in your entire body was spasming simultaneously, locking your body in place. Sweat poured from your expanding skin, as if to lube itself to stretch even further. Until this moment, Demarcus had expected this outcome; however, he would soon witness something he did not expect. Your skin began to darken and tan, hair curling quick as lightning into tight, skintight curls. Stubble burst from your chin and upper lip, all the way down to your pronounced Adams apple. A tattoo sprawled out across your upper arm of Jesus, and across your back spelled the words “unlimited.”

You opened your dark brown eyes, now at eye level with Demarcus. His expression was momentarily indescribable, eventually settling on excitement. You felt heavier, as if you had fifty pound weights tied to your ankles and wrists. Your knees buckled, and you collapsed under your own weight into his arms. 

“Fuck, bruh. It’ll take a minute to get used to the weight.” Within seconds, you rose again, feeling empowered and lithe. The sensation of twelve red bulls wouldn’t come close to the energy you experienced. Demarcus opened the door to his closet, exposing the full length mirror within. You were shell shocked at what you saw.

A beautiful man stood before you, unrecognizable. He stood as an adonis, his musculature and build unsurpassed by any magazine model. From your impossibly handsome face to your gigantic musky feet, you were a perfect specimen of masculinity.

“Lookin’ good, bruh. Gonna need a new name. Guess I poured a lil’ too much of that dust on your shorts bruh, you don’t even look at all like you used to. A completely different person!” With a confident stride toward the mirror and strong pose, you uttered your new first words:

“I'm Jamal, Demarcus. Your new roommate. And we’re late for training.”