No more stress! (Patreon)

The gym changing room, always had this weird smell I'm sure every room designated to men for the purposes of changing their clothes had the same smell. Right from school right up to the elitest of professional sports. It was a mixture of testosterone, sweat or no, for want of a better word, cheap/ expensive cologne and that spray meant for relaxing muscles, here we call it deep heat. Even though most of these rooms were probably meticulously cleaned there was no way to remove such a smell from an enclosed space. I would spend as little time as possible in there especially being such a clean man, showering at least three times a day. I even chose to use the gym close to closing time in order to avoid mixing with other men who would use the changing facilities. A gym wasn't my favourite hang out, but today's society demanded physically fit, lean, muscular me and having an office type job it was a must if I wanted to keep my body in peak physical condition.

Tonight, the gym was quiet, only myself using the machines and weights. There was a cleaner sterilising the machines ready for closing. I made sure I only used the machines after they had been cleaned, a fact that must be infuriating the rather attractive young man cleaning them. I didn't want to risk any of another man's sweat and dirt touching my pristine, pampered skin. I made sure to clean anything I used but the man followed me and cleaned the equipment again.

As I was finishing up the man seemed to cheer as I left for the changing room. I knew the gym was now closed and there was no one else about. Weirdly, there was a cap on one of the benches in the changing room, underneath was a set of red shirts and a pair of black French connection briefs. I knew they didn't belong to the cleaner and I knew the gym was empty so they must of been left behind. I pondoured about who they may belong to for a while noting I had never seen anyone wearing red shorts before. I should really of left them alone but I thought that leaving them would likely mean the staff locking up would end up finishing late looking for someone who was not here. I picked them up. I planned to stuff them in a locker and return them to the bench the next time I was here.

But something got hold of me from within. I have no idea what it was. Normally I wouldn't of even considered touching something that belonged to someone else, especially since their sweat would be on these items and now it was likely on me. I showered, hoping someone would be in to claim the items but no one did.

As I kef the shower, the scent in the locker room had changed slightly and now smelled a little more of damp sweat. The extra scent was coming from the cap and shorts. Instinctively undecided to raise the shorts to my nose. The smell was so bad I felt like it was invading my nose. I then decided to place the cap on my head and things got weird. I found myself thinking the cap, shorts and brief were my own. I had memories of other bros/ friends that I had never met. I had a body full of muscle and tattoos, quite similar to my own but now I didn't ned to worry about a thing. My body was built with muscle not engineered by gym routines.

This wasn't me! My body was only lean if I had managed 3 hours a day, 6 days a week in a gym and I didn't eat the wrong food. My body had meaningful tattoos, signifying special dares and events. My current memories were just “artful” tattoos. The briefs were now in my hands and I was raising my legs and feet, slipping them into the briefs and pulling them around my waist. More memories flooded into my head. My penis size being a mediocre 7” long was replaced with a huge 10” one. The girls I had been with had never had cause to complain, the guys did though, 10” pained them. I had memories of been with at least 20 girls and 5 guys. I wasn't a slit and I would never dream of getting with a girl. At most I had slept with five guys all in an effort to find Mr right, and definitely never with a girl.

I was fascinated by these new memories but I wanted them to stop. However, the final item of clothing, the red shirts appeared to be calling my name. Bradley put the shorts on, you can't leave in just underwear and a cap. My name wasn't Bradley or Brad, it was callan! Nonetheless, I placed the red shorts over my legs and planted them firmly around my much slimmer waist.

Up to that point, as far as I knew, I was still me. I was just experiencing someone else memories. But now I was physically changing too. All the memories I had gained about the bigger dick, smaller feet, much more lean body and tattoos appeared to be true. Socks and sliders appeared on my feet and then a chain around my neck the cap flipped around so the peak was now at the back. I could no longer remember how to do my “smart” office job and I was dumbing down. All I was capable of now was a fork lift drivers job for minimum wage. Even if I wanted to change back, I have no idea how too as all of my clothes were gone!

Absolutely loved every aspect of my new body and life. No more stress or worries! I was Bradley now, Brad for short. I assume he is me now but I haven't thought to check!