Part 4: The Bartender
This part follows Joel as he also thinks he’s found a water supply untainted by the nanites.
Author’s Note: I wrote this before any feedback on Part 3 because I wanted some variety. This part has significantly different narration and is a different transformation than the last, and first, so let me know in the comments what you think. I’m trying to make a little something for everyone.
Part 4: The Bartender
Joel was in his early 20s. He had entered college at age 19, and after two years years had dropped out. If they had offered a degree in binge drinking, perhaps he could have stayed and maybe even passed with good grades. His sports scholarship went out the window when his tight, fit wrestling body gave way to a gut that had been impossible to hide. He no longer made weight, no longer had the musculature to wrestle, and rarely showed up to practice because he was too hung over.
But, Joel figured he knew something that the others didn’t, and that would let him survive this hell until he could be rescued. Joel started by running around until he was quickly out of breath and then slowed to a walk, searching and searching the resort’s hotel until he finally found what he was looking for: The bar.
If Joel had been more intelligent, he might have seen the bar when he first arrived, since it was right off the lobby (high visibility, high traffic, high profits!). But, if Joel had been more intelligent, perhaps he would not be in our story.
Joel’s idea for survival was quite simple and might have made some of his professors actually proud: Get drunk. Joel reasoned that their captors said that all the drinkable water had been laced with nanites that would change them. But, alcohol was expensive, so they probably wouldn’t risk contaminating it. Plus, he could look to see if there were original seals and just drink from those containers. Since drinks like beer was only around 5% alcohol by volume (± a few percent), while he might get a bit drunk, the calories in the alcohol would sustain him and the drink, being mostly water, would keep him hydrated. A win-win!
So, Joel found the bar and walked behind it to survey what was there. Which was nothing. Even the soda guns were empty. Then it hit him: Of course! It would be a month before the real guests arrived, so there wouldn’t be any alcohol yet out. Another way for their captors to screw them over.
But there had to be an inventory, right? Joel searched around the bar and finally found a clipboard under the cash register. There were several pages attached, detailing an extremely large amount of alcohol in the hotel’s storeroom.
That sent Joel on another treasure hunt, but he found it not too far from the bar, which made sense to him. As with Jason before him, Joel found this door unlocked, which he chuckled at because that was an obvious security issue: People could just walk in and steal the booze, which is fully what he intended to do.
He waddled in with the checklist from the bar and found his favorite two beers, Lö Browe and Klein’s (really, he just liked the bottle for the second one). He took a bottle of Lö Browe first, and carefully examined it. As far as he could tell, it had not been tampered with. Slamming the bottle’s side along a shelf popped the top off, and he downed the entire bottle in one standing (since he wasn’t sitting).
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he let out a loud burp, and then looked around quickly to see if he had been noticed. As far as he could tell, there was no other movement, no other sounds, no other nothin’ in the room except him and alcohol. Joel also felt no different from before. He paused for quite a lot longer than he probably needed to, trying to decide if there was anything different, using that as a final check to see if his plan worked.
Deciding he was successful, he looked around the liquor stash some more. While there were numerous kegs to put on tap, and dozens of brands of beer in bottles, there were also many bottles of many different types of wines, some quite expensive. Additionally, there were probably hundreds of bottles of hard liquor, of multiple types, of multiple brands. It really was an amazing room.
It also compared well with the checklist that Joel still held in his rather thin hands. Joel spent a significant amount of time - actually, he didn’t know how long - comparing the stash to the inventory list he had, and the only thing he found missing was the one bottle of Lö Browe that he had drunk, which he could no longer find. That the bottle had disappeared didn’t bother him so much as the fact that the inventory list was now wrong, so he corrected the figure. He also remembered at this point that the bar was unstocked, and that he might be able to help the other guys survive this month with his own plan, if he stocked the bar and shared.
Joel made several trips back-and-forth between the bar and the store room, bringing out a half dozen kegs, enough bottles of different beers to stock two mini fridges, a shelf’s worth of wine along with enough to stock the wine refrigerator, and tens of bottles of high-end hard liquor to stock the backbar. Glasses were already there when he got back.
When he had finished, he stepped back to admire his work, thinking that, indeed, he had done a good job. He saw his reflection in the mirrored backbar and noticed some of his salt & pepper, medium-length hair was out of place. He tucked it back carefully, making sure not to disturb his Chippendale-style tie around his sinewy neck. Looking down, his middle-aged body was lean, moderately hairy, and wearing only a black apron around his waist with several pockets.
Joel paused a moment longer, staring at himself, his eyes blank. When he breathed again, he saw his left nipple was pierced and held his name tag: “JOEL: BARTENDER.”
That was when he realized that that was what he was, his head emptied of his former life and any thoughts of escape.
“Lucy, what should we do with this one?”
“Gabe, what do you think?” he responded incredulously. “He’s going to be the bartender. Duh.”
The two men were the same people who had greeted the group of “sweepstakes winners” originally, yet they now wore completely different appearances. Lucy, who had been the sequin-dressed woman, was now a muscled 18-something Arab-appearing male with cascading blonde hair that reached his shoulders, and eyes that shone with a brilliant orange flame. Gabe appeared older, similarly muscled, caucasian, with brown hair past his shoulders, and eyes that shone with a soft, blue light. Both were naked and more comfortable in their nudity than in clothes.
Gabe sighed and looked at the view. In the white expanse in which they were standing (floating?), a large, modern-style screen showed Joel standing motionless in the stock room. Gabe waved his hand and overlaid information about him:
Life: No friends, no job, no prospects.
Stats: 21 years old, 5’ 7", 225 lbs, smooth, overweight, pre-diabetic, pre-hypertension, small alcohol addiction.
They both looked at the readout and larger sets of details and conferred about what to do.
Deciding they wanted a bar that looked sophisticated and fit well with the ambiance of the nearby hotel lobby, Lucy pointed at the monitor and moved his finger upwards. Joel aged before their eyes, and Lucy stopped at 45. He tapped the age twice and a lock appeared, indicating Joel would no longer age. Nothing appeared to change physically to Joel, except his skin sagged significantly more, and his hair had taken the salt & pepper coloring.
“He should also be able to reach the top shelf without a ladder,” Lucy said, and as he spoke it Joel appeared to lengthen and stopped when the stats said he was 6’ 2".
“Okay, my turn. You’ve given him the age, let’s give him a hot dad bod. The customers will love that.”
As Joel’s clothes vanished, the two watched as Joel’s body changed significantly this time. His weight dropped a bit, but his body composition changed significantly. From over 30% fat, he dropped to 12% and a more lean 210 lbs. His build was similar to Jason’s, but whereas Jason was smooth below his eyebrows, Joel began to sprout hair across his chest. It travelled up to just below his neck, and it plunged across his new abs and down to his groin, continuing to his legs and also his forearms. His butt also gained a light coating of fur. He wasn’t hair per se, but he had a generous coating of thin light hair such that it was obvious it was there, but it was also obvious there was skin. With the change in body composition, his face grew thinner and more angular. Gabe softened it a little to give the new bartender a welcoming look you would want from a barkeep, rather than one you might expect from a stern principal.
As Gabe continued to manipulate and mold Joel’s appearance to give him a fantasy but realistic dad bod, Lucy ensured that their standard health modifications were implemented, giving Joel a clean bill of health and ensuring he wouldn’t get sick nor hurt on the job.
When Gabe had finished, they both admired Joel’s new body and were almost ready to release him before they remembered the other part of their game.
Peering into Joel’s memories, they didn’t find any latent homophobia, he was just a dumb drunk at too early an age. So, while he needed to fit with their resort, they felt that there wasn’t any sort of divine punishment needed, just an attitude adjustment.
They much preferred the visual interface, so they took Joel’s mind, with his mental image of himself as the new him, and put him into a suburban house party with a few different couples. Over the next several mental hours, Joel enjoyed himself and got steadily more and more drunk, though still fully cognizant of what he was doing (after all, it wasn’t a real body, so he sort of just thought he was drunk). What he did not realize was that of the four couples that were there at the beginning, all of the women had left, and he was left at a table playing poker with the four other guys.
If porn is any guide to what happens in these kinds of situations, the game quickly became one of strip poker, with Joel the second one to be naked. He was uncomfortable with the nudity, but no one else seemed to be, so he just swallowed his nervousness and kept playing. But, he had nothing left to bet, and neither did the other naked guy. So, of course, the betting turned to sexual favors. He laughed nervously, but again no one else seemed to think there was a problem.
Joel won the next hand, so the three clothed guys each took a piece of clothing off, but the guy who was already naked turned to Joel, got down on his knees, and before Joel could say anything, swallowed his cock all the way.
“Woah! No, really, you don’t need to do that,” Joel exclaimed.
“Yeah he does,” one of the still-clothed guys replied. “That’s the bet.”
“But seriously, this is a little gay. Come on, guys,” Joel tried to push the mouth-vacuum off his groin again.
“So what?” a second guy asked. “We’re just here having a good time. He knew what he was betting. It’s just a bro-job, doesn’t mean anything.”
Joel felt a tiny nudge in his mind’s mind, and visibly relaxed. “Okay guys, I guess, just because it was a bet.”
“That’s the spirit!” the third guy responded. “Now, next hand!”
The group of now four played another hand, since the bettor who lost had to suck Joel until he came or the next hand was over, whichever came first. Unfortunately for Joel, the distraction of his dick getting an extremely good blowjob hurt his concentration, and he lost. Resigned, he got down under the table and took the winner’s dick in his mouth.
He didn’t really like it, but after another tiny mental nudge, he didn’t mind it. A tiny mental nudge later, and he started to enjoy it, swirling his tongue around the head and trying to make it jump a bit in his mouth. It almost became a game.
Too soon, the hand was over, and Joel got back up to the table and was dealt another hand. This time, in a way that made complete sense, there were only three guys at the table, and all were naked by this point. The younger looking Arab man won the hand with four kings, while he and the the other guy with long, brown hair, both lost. Having both lost before, they walked over to the conveniently nearby couch, and the other guy laid back on it with his legs in the air. Joel got hard quickly, spit on his cock, and shoved it into the brunette’s waiting hole. He then paused, as the younger, darker skinned man got behind him. The guy stuck his fingers in Joel’s mouth, and Joel sucked to get them wet. He then fingered Joel’s hole and then unceremoniously shoved his own dick into Joel’s waiting ass.
The three built up a rhythm, each enjoying the stimulation. When the two on the outside felt close, they shared a common look, and then all three came at the same time. Each gently pulled apart, and the two on the outside put their arms around Joel’s back. They looked at each other, and then down at Joel, who had his head back and was breathing heavily from the exertion. Joel now sported an 8" cock that was moderately thick, and sure to please any bottom that wanted to take it. Meanwhile, his ass had plumped, though it was still in proportion to the rest of his frame, and his hole had maintained its tightness but was much more elastic. He would never experience pain from penetration, and he would be able to take even the largest of tops.
The scene faded back into the white Somewhere Else, and they placed Joel’s mind back into his body, or at least re-linked the two.
With nothing left to do for Joel, they reactivating him and left him to stock the bar.
Author’s Post Script: I’m experimenting with how the transformations are done. Some, like in Part 3, are contemporaneous to the narrative. I wanted to experiment in this one with having the transformation be external to the narrative, after the fact (though temporally during the narrative). The “Somewhere Else” part that describes the transformation in much more detail is intended to be ambiguous as to the mechanisms of how the transformations are being done. If you like this, or don’t like it, please let me know. In gay erotica, nanites are just a plot device to do what you want and people use them practically the same as magic. In my version, it’s made more obvious in that, maybe - just maybe - the idea of nanites are a plot device by an external force as opposed to by me, the lazy author. And for those moderately worried, I am NOT going a Judeo-Christian route (for those who may have picked up on the names). But, a commenter on Parts 1-2 suggested that I might go the route of the TV show, “American Gods,” Having only watched one episode of that show but liking the premise, I introduced my version of that in the “Somewhere Else” part. I’m also a HUGE fan of “gymmuscle”’s two series and his interludes / post-ludes where there’s a bit more exposition and behind-the-scenes, so my “Somewhere Else” is a bit of an homage to him. If you like this, or don’t like it, please let me know in the comments.