Josh's Big Tits & two Big Regrets

Josh shoved the front door open, hard.

WHAM—BOUNCE—SMACK.

It swung back and nailed him in the tits.

Josh "FUUU—bloody—DAMN IT!" He stumbled, soaked, pissed off, beer-wet and rain-wet, arms flailing like a drunk toddler with airbags.

He stomped into the living room, tossed the book onto the coffee table without looking at it, and ripped off his shirt like it was on fire.

Josh "AAAARGH!!" Wet fabric scraped across raw skin. His chest lit up — nipple hellfire.

Josh "SWEET MOTHER OF—AH!" He moaned. Accidentally. It slipped out sharp, high-pitched, and wrong. Like someone else’s voice came out of his mouth.

Josh froze. Bare-chested. Red-faced. Breathing heavily.

Josh "No. No. That wasn’t me. That was... stress. A pain noise. A pain-noise grunt. Not a—" He sat down hard on the couch. His chest jiggled. He flinched.

Josh "You’re not allowed to move when I’m sitting still."

He grabbed a beer, downed half of it, then wiped his mouth and leaned over. The book sat there. He didn’t care how. He didn’t care why. He just wanted out.

He picked up the quill. No ceremony.

Josh "Right. Let’s fix this."

First try:

• "I wish I never made that wish."

He watched. Waited. Nothing.

Second try:

• "I want to go back. Undo everything."

Nothing.

Third:

• "Make me how I was before."

Still nothing. Not even a flicker.

Josh sat back. Boobs still on chest. Dignity still missing. Shame fully present. He exhaled, dead-eyed.

Josh "…Okay. There are no second chances. Cool. Love that for me."

He stood. Walked in a circle. Tried to stop thinking about how his own chest was making soft, ridiculous bounce sounds every time he turned too fast.

Then—

CREEEEAK.

He froze. A floorboard. Somewhere in the hallway. Josh stood still. Beer in one hand. The other over his chest like that would do anything.

Another creak. Closer. Right outside the living room.

He stared at the door. Heart climbing up his ribs.

Josh "…Hello?"

Silence.

One last creak.

The shadow under the door shifted.