You were browsing Grindr for a hook-up. One seemed interesting and so you got chatting and chatting away on the app. You decided to meet up with the guy, even though he seemed like a scruffy chav and not normally your type he seemed to have some personality.

    You started to feel a moment of regret when you took the bus which winded through council estate after council estate. Watching the bus move on your map hoping it gets to a less rough area before you realise you’re at your stop.

    Getting off the bus you gulp. The bus drove off almost immediately and you can see the run-down block of flats in front of you. You feel suddenly unsafe in your jeans and plaid shirt along with your converse shoes.

    You check the bus times. The next bus out of the area wasn’t for another hour so you were stuck. No chickening out of this one it seemed.

    Entering the block of flats you notice a large security camera. Clearly this was a problem area. You find the flat number on the sign donning the local council logo in the bottom corner. The guy’s flat is on the top floor, of course it is.

    You press the button of the lift and you hear the shaft thunder downwards towards the ground floor. You get out the way of the screaming child in the pushchair being pushed by a lady in a pink tracksuit. She looks at you like a piece of trash on the floor, and well in this area you kind of were.

    Getting in the lift, you push to go to the top floor and the door closes in a rackety manner, and way too quickly to probably be safe. The lift jolts a bit to go upwards, pushing you a bit on edge. The light flickering as it slowly makes it way up floor by floor.

    It feels like ages and it smells of cigarettes, a smell intoxicating you. You feel slightly lightheaded, and the flickering does nothing for you. Creating a painful headache which hits suddenly.

    Out of instinct you spit in the corner. Something you never did before, but trying to think why you did that doesn’t seem to do much help for your headache. 

    Your dick stirs in your boxers. Something’s off but you can’t help but slide your hand into your trackies. Feels so good to have your hand in your trackies you barely realise you’ve made it to the top floor and your mate is waiting for you with his dumb smile.

    Tonight was going to be a good ‘un, and after he’s had his way you won’t remember a thing. Nothing he didn’t want you to remember anyway.


    Ayyye you fuckin’ Posh cunt, why donthcha watch where yer fuckin goin!

    Edgar was too busy on his phone to notice the scally lad he just ran into, knocking coffee all over the lad. 

    “Sorry mate, let me get you new clothes,” Edgar said apologetically

    “Crack,” the scally knocked Edgar out cold. Picked his Posh ass up and dragged him back to his council flat. The lad stripped Edgar down, shit him up with some substance mixed with his cum and put some crusty old clothes on Edgar. 

    Edgar woke up, his whole body on fire, he couldn’t speak, he could barely think but his cock was rock hard. 

    “Now you stupid cunt, everything I tell you is true and when I am done, you’ll ne my fuckin’ flat mate.” 

    “First, you are a chav, you din’t finish no kind of school and you love to drink and have sex. You love to keep fit so you can stick that dick in anything with legs. You’re dumb as a rock mate, I’m the closest thing you have to family and you would do anything for me.”

    The changes happened rapidly, his lean body bulked ouit, his hair got shorter, cock growing like mad, and his eyes were glazing over with some dumb fuck look. His mind faded away and a new chav persona took over. All he wanted was to get his fucking rocks off and fuck.

    Oh, and one more thing, your name…It’s Declan O’Shea, your one stupid horny Irish fucker. 

    The lad was glad that he got rid of one more Posh fuck, thinkin their better than everybody. Not anymore, stupid fucker gonna watched footie, rugby, drink and fuck

    The poor lad started laughing to himself ‘these things really are hard to take off aint they mate?’ He stopped smiling for a second, realising that his accent had change, in fact he had never used the words ‘aint it’ and ‘mate’ in the same sentence before. You see it only takes one wish. 

    This lad was leaving his uni, studying law, one month from completing his course when he went out with a few of his study friends to a local pub. I, of course, could not help but follow him. A few pints in and he was throwing his upper classed, bias views around like confetti ‘We have the world in front of us friends!’ he shouted to the people at the bar. ‘look at those losers!’ he pointed to a group of scallys in the corner of the pub, luckily they not hear him. ‘can you imagine having no future like them friends?’ he words were becoming more slurred and less coherent. I sat, sipping my drink, waiting for the opportunity to strike. ‘you would not like to be like one of them, if not for a day?’ one of his friends said to him ‘You wish!’ sad the lad full of cocky pride. ‘Yes I believe it would be amazing to see you like that, your fall from grace would be the talk of the uni, at least for a day’ his friend reply…that is all I needed. The lad took one more sip then collapsed. His friends giggled to themselves and called a taxi for him. 

    The lad woke up the next morning, groggy and dazed, slowly he started to feel different….something was odd. His noticed his black suit was now a bright white tracksuit, his shined shoes were now a pair of nike trainers. ‘What the fuck?’ he said exploring his new clothes ‘ok, who did this? was it you gerald?’ He then looked around the room and saw me, sitting there on his chair. He didnt say a word, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head for a second before his head flopped back down.  The poor lad started laughing to himself ‘these things really are hard to take off aint they mate?’

    ‘yes Craig, they are. In fact they will never come off again. Let’s see how you manage being part of the lower class….now don’t you have a footie match with your new mates to get to?’ Still dazed and confused he jumped to his feet, ‘yea mate, can’t be late init’.