Immersion, ch. 6 (Patreon)

Last one! I know these specific themes aren't for everyone, but I hope you found something to enjoy along the way.

“Hard enough for you? You like that, big man? Yeah…you do,” Evan chirped, slamming his hips against the muscled globes. The compact hunk was surprised at how used to his squeaky new voice he’d become after only a few simulated days, that he was actually starting to like the way it contrasted to just about everyone else’s deeper tones, just one of several discoveries he’d made during that time. Another revelation was just how much older men turned him on, something he’d never given much thought to before the Immersion. Evan had always gone for thinner, smaller twinks, and while his shortened stature alone didn’t put him in that category, he’d never considered how it would feel to be with a man more masculine than himself. But that’s exactly what Hank was, and now that the door had been opened, Evan wasn’t sure he ever wanted to close it again. The older man was intoxicating. His rugged, handsome features, his beefy, furry frame, his plump rear and thick cock; it all drove Evan wild, while his confident charm, deep voice, and gentle manner made him squirm. The shrunken jock’s initial impression of his new friend was that he’d reminded him of his former coaches, and that comparison had only strengthened during their time together. Hank was commanding, not just physically, but with his very presence, stirring a range of emotions in the squeaky stud. He made Evan feel safe, looked after, and when the occasional bit of condescension crept into his voice, it was more of a turn on than anything else. The tiny hunk was putty in his hands, literally, loving it when Hank would carry him and toss him around, or use his capable, calloused hands and soft lips to make him see stars while nestled in the bigger man’s arms.

And then they’d switch. As much as Evan loved being manhandled and talked down to by the older stud, Hank loved getting taken by the tiny top. He’d work the blonde into a frenzy, then roll over and turn him loose on his meaty rear, offering himself up for the smaller man’s thick club. It was a perfect pairing as far as Evan was concerned. He loved it when Hank would finger him, but, regardless of his height, he was a top through and through. As with Trent, he loved the sensation of hammering into someone so much bigger than himself. Causing a hulking, handsome hunk to scream in ecstasy more than made up for a few feet of lost height, or a few extra octaves in his voice.

“You’re…so…fucking good…at this…” Hank grunted, his fingers biting into the sofa cushions. “Really glad I didn’t…let you…get swept out…to sea…”

“My hero,” Evan cooed, giving a few slow, deep thrusts. Since their first meeting, the older man had been an almost constant presence around the house. Hank had shown up shortly after Evan and Trent had worn each other out that first afternoon, and save for a few brief breaks, he hadn’t really left. Evan was actually starting to wonder if he was developing feelings for the simulated stranger, a possibility that had never once crossed his mind when he’d first heard about the “trip.” In the real world they’d at least be able to exchange numbers and keep in touch, but here, once the Immersion was over, so were they. “Guess I’ll just have to keep paying you back for it,” he said, determined to enjoy the bigger man, and everything else, while he could.

Evan was still shocked by how much he’d grown to relish his altered perspective. Being towered over by giant hunks was an obvious turn on, but it went deeper than mere arousal. His reduced proportions caused him to rely on others in a way he never had before, punching a hole in the beautiful blonde’s constant bravado. Evan always had to be the best, always had to be the one helping others while never asking for help himself, but now he couldn’t even see the top of the kitchen counter. Now he needed Riley or Trent or one of their new friends to reach things for him, and to lift him up not just figuratively, but literally. Even the illusion of his sculpted physique had been shattered, as a trip to the gym revealed how much less his shrunken, sculpted muscles could lift compared to before, and that was if he could even use the equipment to begin with. Machines, barbells, and benches had become vast and towering, once again leaving Evan dependent on others for help in a realm he normally reigned supreme.

He knew that was why Steve had chosen his alternate outfit. Far from the diaper he’d feared, when Evan finally mustered up the courage to try something on other than a sleeve, he found himself clad in a loose, draping muscle shirt that now fit like a gown. The scooping neck and open sides left him nearly as exposed as the sleeves had but, more importantly, the relatively mundane shirts emphasized his new outlook. Instead of bulging out of the baggy top the way he would have, its oversized proportions were a constant reminder that he might actually need other people in his life for more than a one-night stand.

It was a fundamental shift in the blonde’s outlook, a process that his friends were also undergoing, though in different ways. In the bedroom, Trent knelt on the sprawling mattress while the ‘Ads writhed around him like buff, naked ants. No one could remember which of the sculpted studs was Brad, Chad, or Tad, and it truly didn’t matter. They’d never seen the trio apart from each other, and the group already acted as a hive mind, completing each other’s sentences and even anticipating each other’s movements. They were like three buff extensions of a single entity, a giddy conglomerate of eager muscle and eager cocks.

“Fuck, bro…your pussy’s so tight,” the golden-haired demigod grunted as he rolled his hips against Trent’s altered opening.

“They both are, bro,” the bronze-haired beauty at his back chuckled, his thick log splitting the bigger man’s hole wide.

Wedged between them, his herculean frame melting from the dual organs lighting up his insides, Trent’s normally stoic features bore a dull, dazed grin. “Don’t…don’t stop, bros,” he panted, biting his plump lower lip. “Fu…fuck me harder,” he begged, still a little surprised to hear the words leave his mouth. After his first romp with Evan, Trent quickly learned that he enjoyed a vigorous pounding. Slow and steady was fine at first, but when it came time to get down to business, he wanted to feel it. Which, given the impressive size of his meaty frame, required effort from his partner. Though Evan could still, barely, hold his own at his reduced size, there was nothing like being at the center of the trio’s ample affection. Their stamina was seemingly endless as it was, and they were essentially interchangeable, with each of them swapping front to back or tagging out for a breather.

“Flex for us, bro,” the sandy-haired hunk currently catching his breath said, his giddy grin growing when Trent folded his arms behind his head and flexed the burly pistons. “Sick, bro,” he purred, leaning in to bury his face in the bigger man’s musky pit.

Trent groaned at the added sensation, his jaw going slack. “Broooo…love it when you do that, bro…”

“Oh! Bro! Do me,” the golden-haired himbo at his front laughed, raising his arm and pressing the pit against the bigger man’s face.

Trent shivered, his tongue flicking out to taste the salty crevice. He still knew how odd his behavior was, that, altered body or not, he shouldn’t have been an eager hole for three dumb jocks, but he was more confused at how excited he was to reciprocate. And not just physically, but socially. The trio’s easy-going attitude was infectious, and the ruddy-haired hunk had caught himself peppering in “bros” with increasing frequency, whether they were around or not. Both Evan and Riley had also commented that they’d never seen him smile so much, or seem so happy in general, and in hindsight it was starting to make sense. Given Trent’s natural size and athletic inclinations, the brooding bruiser had always worked hard to play against the assumptions people made about him. Guys like the ‘Ads drove him crazy because they represented the Dumb Jock that Trent always had to prove he wasn’t. The brawny hunk was always serious, always dour, because to be anything else would leave him open to interpretation. He was affectionate and caring in his own gruff way, but never laid back or anything remotely resembling silly, keeping himself walled off from the people around him.

Now, he wondered what he’d been thinking this whole time. Trent had been forced so far out of his entrenched comfort zone, with his body, the way he showed it, the things he did with it, that his options were either bail on the Immersion entirely, or roll with it. He’d opted for the latter, and no one had been more surprised than himself to discover how much fun he was having. That he was actually allowed to have fun in the first place. After strutting around in public wearing nothing but a bikini bottom that flaunted his pussy and left his ass on full display, or a slinky suit that did the same, what did it matter if someone thought of him as a dumb jock? What did it matter if someone heard him saying “bro” or saw him laughing and lifting with his new friends? Trent liked to lift, he liked to flex, and, it turned out, he liked being a bro with his bros. He liked turning his brain off and just doing what felt good without over analyzing everything or worrying about how someone else would perceive his actions. If Tad or Brad or Chad wanted him to flex so they could eat out his armpit, or if he wanted to do the same to them, then so be it. After only a few simulated days, Trent was quickly learning that maybe he didn’t have anything to prove or anyone to be after all. If he wanted to stoically fuck a woman, great. If he wanted to bro-out with a pretty-boy meathead inside him, also great.

He felt the golden-haired jock tense against his lips, a warmth hitting his insides a moment later. “Fuck yeah, bro,” Trent cheered, giving a final, lingering lick against the other man’s pit. “It’s like pressing a button when I do that.”

The panting stud looked almost bashful as he pulled his arm away. “Tongue feels so good, bro,” the golden-haired man said, letting his softening cock slip free. “Always gets a big load out of me.”

“Bro, my turn,” The sandy-haired hunk laughed, roughly pulling his golden-haired doppelganger out of the way. His thick rod slipped inside before Trent had even registered the previous organ’s absence, a low, deep moan slipping out as he started thrusting. “Fuck yeah, bro!”

The penetrated hulk matched his friend’s grin and started writhing in time with the dual thrusting at his front and back, still flexing. “Awesome, bro…fuckin’...awesome…”

Still, with as big a change as his two friends had undergone, it was Riley who appeared to have swung the hardest. Considering that the wiry brunette had been the most uptight by far upon arrival it surprised no one that his shift would be the most dramatic, but he’d still managed to impress the others. The eager, uninhibited power-bottom was nothing like the modest man he’d been, his shift in attitude dwarfing Evan’s acceptance of his own limitations and Trent’s unencumbered new outlook. Far from being embarrassed by it as he’d been at first, the bearded brunette relished his newfound freedom. Instead of awkwardly clinging to a sarong or bashfully scampering in a bikini, Riley let himself be seen in all his limp, curvy glory. He’d gone so far in the opposite direction that, when they were at the cabin or on the beach, he didn’t wear anything at all. It was only when they ventured into “town” that he bothered to cover himself, and even then it was with as little as possible. The Riley who’d first arrived would have been mortified to strut around with his dangling package half-covered by a sheer scrap of fabric, while only the enlarged nipples of his supple new chest were obscured by a bikini top, but now he looked forward to it. He didn’t dread the exposure or the attention it brought him; he savored it.

Before, in the real world, he’d always thought of himself as being above such self-centered concerns as vanity. He’d horse around in a locker room or hang out with his roommates in nothing but his boxers, but he’d always rejected any sort of actual exhibitionism, along with the arousal that went with it. This left him in the uncomfortable position of knowing he was handsome, fit and desirable on one hand, without actually allowing himself to indulge in any of that on the other.

Once his options had been limited, though, Riley was all too happy to let go. The erotic inertia he’d kept at bay for so long surged like a river over a levee, obliterating any shred of resistance in the flood. Riley was already talking about his plans to start an OnlyFriends as soon as the Immersion was over, eager to show off his regularly toned proportions the way he did his top-heavy ones. He wanted people to watch when he had Trent’s missing meat inside him instead of just the other man’s hulking fingers, or when he went for a ride on Evan at his full size. He wanted to jerk off for an audience, to bare himself body and soul in all his intimate actions.

And that was just for starters. There was also talk of redoing his wardrobe, of taking his clothes off and dancing at clubs, of quitting his job so he could focus on his new, true passion. Riley didn’t want to sit in an office; he wanted to flaunt his ample cheeks and twerk for a crowd, to never cover himself a single iota more than he absolutely had to.

But the eager go-go boy he was becoming would have to wait. For now, the bearded brunette was still on vacation, with plenty of new friends and observers to keep himself occupied. At the moment, Riley was out on the patio, kneeling on a chaise with Shawn’s thick cock filling his mouth while Mike’s fat log split his rear. Matt floated on an inflatable raft nearby, sunning his lean, naked frame, while another pair of hairy hulks they’d just met on the beach that morning splashed in the pool’s deep end. Riley had thoroughly enjoyed his encounter with the sculpted swimmer, it was the final push he’d needed to rip the bandaid off, but, as they’d all initially expected, it was the furry studs that truly drove him wild. Their thick, hairy frames were nothing like his own smooth, toned muscle, and the stuffed brunette was beginning to better understand Evan’s arousal at being the smaller one. The sensation of Shawn’s ebony muscle looming in front of him while Mike’s thick frame slammed into his backside was like nothing Riley had ever experienced before. There was something raw and primal about their unsculpted size and unmanicured bodies, an intoxicating combination that already had its hooks in the currently-curvy brunette.

“How you doing, bud,” Mike asked, eliciting a muffled howl when he reached under and began toying with Riley’s swaying tits.

“Whooooaaaaa…keep doing whatever you’re doing,” Shawn laughed, his eyes going wide as his swallowed log started to hum. “Goddamn, Riley…you’re on fire right now,” he grunted, trying to hold back the looming eruption as the kneeling man huffed and howled around his cock.

“Seemed so shy at first, too,” Mike grinned, tweaking Riley’s nipples. “Guess we pegged you wrong.” The busty brunette wanted to correct them, but that would have meant removing Shawn’s cock from his mouth, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. He could feel the bigger man nearing the edge, and he intended to swallow every drop.

“Maybe he just needed a minute to open up,” Shawn shrugged.

“I think you guys opened him up with something else,” Matt called from the pool, his own cock rock hard as he enjoyed the show.

Riley whimpered again at the sound of the blonde’s voice, a rush of satisfaction surging through him at the thought of being watched. A small part of himself still felt like he should be embarrassed by his altered proportions, but that embarrassment only added fuel to the lustful fire. It would all still be a little embarrassing no matter how he looked, which is what made it so fun.

Shawn chuckled and let out a low breath, his fingers running through Riley’s wavy hair. “You’re not…wronnngggnnnhh…” The burly hunk broke off in a grunt as he tensed and came, launching load after load down the lean man’s eager throat.

When his softening hose fell from Riley’s plump lips, the panting brunette didn’t bother to wipe away the cum trickling down his bearded chin. “Thanks for that,” he purred, letting out a sharp gasp when the hands kneading his sensitive tits pulled him upright. A shiver ran through him as Shawn closed the gap for a kiss, wedging him between the hairy walls of muscle. His limp package felt small by comparison when Shawn reached down and started kneading it, the ample hair on his granite chest sending bright bolts of pleasure down Riley’s spine as it brushed against his soft, lightning rod mounds.

“My pleasure,” Shawn sighed, his hands picking up where Mike’s left off.

Riley’s howl was swallowed by the dark-skinned stud’s waiting lips, the rest of his body going as limp as his cock while he writhed between the hairy giants. He was content to ride Mike’s rigid girder for as long as the other man would let him, though he could feel his furry friend nearing the edge. But it didn’t matter. Matt was still in the pool, along with his two new friends. There was also Evan and Trent, as well as Hank and the ‘Ads and a whole beach full of potential playmates. They still had several days left, too, which was both more than, and nowhere near enough, time.

The top-heavy hunk groaned at the thought, adding Steve to the list of people he wanted to experience firsthand as soon as he could. After a birthday gift like this he certainly owed his friend, and he couldn’t wait to show him all the new tricks he’d learned.