Out For a Run (Patreon)

“Goddamn….whiny….little….fuck….” he panted, his large chest heaving.  He was already on mile nine of his morning run.  Usually he was getting ready to wrap it up, but he was so angry at his roommate, Brent, that it was driving him further than ever.  

He’d gotten into it with the scrawny man the night before.  Once again, Chris had left something too dirty for Brent’s liking.  Or hadn’t put something away.  Or didn’t adjust the couch cushions when he’d gotten up.  “Who the fuck even cares,” Chris spat, wiping his brow.  He’d already peeled off his sopping tshirt and tucked it into the waist of his tiny running shorts, leaving his sculpted chest to glisten with beads of sweat in the morning light.  “Can’t do this in my own fucking house anyway…” 

Chris was a gym rat, he always had been.  At 25, he still had youth on his side making it easy to maintain his athletic figure, but that didn’t mean he slacked off.  He ran and lifted just about every day; it was his hobby. That and baseball.  If you asked him, he’d tell you he was a simple guy.  He liked to work out, watch sports, hang out with the guys, and generally take it easy.  Which is why he was constantly butting heads with Brent.  While Chris would be content to hang out in his underwear on the couch, his uptight roommate would glare if he so much as left his room without a shirt on.  Chris understood why Brent would be uncomfortable doing it, but he had no reason to share those reservations.  They were the same age, but worlds apart physically.  Brent was lanky and wiry, with no real build to speak of.  He spent more time making sure his hair was in place than exercising, and he had a perpetually mousy look on his face.  

That meekness, more than anything, is what got to Chris.  As much of a pain as he was, the thin man was never direct about it.  He was timid and quiet, choosing to be passive aggressive instead of just saying what he wanted.  The few times Chris had pushed back, Brent just let it drop, only to follow up with a string of text messages the next day.  

“Would it kill him...to fucking...relax…” Chris panted, slowing to a trot to catch his breath.  He stopped all together and bent, supporting himself on his powerful thighs while the sweat ran down his tapering back like a waterfall.  He righted himself and put his hands on his trim waist, his biceps and forearms flexing as he walked in a circle until his pulse slowed.  

In his anger, Chris hadn’t paid any attention to where he was going.  Though he ran this trail several times each week, he found himself in a part of the forest he didn’t recognize.  “Fog must’ve thrown me off…” he said as he stretched his arms above his head, the motion making his abs pop.  He looked around and walked over to a wide pool formed by the small stream that ran along the trail.  The surface rippled lightly, sending sparkles of reflected sunlight back up at him.  It was almost hypnotic.  Chris felt his anger fading as he stared into the clear water.  “I just wish he could be a fuckin’ dude for a change.  Is that so hard?  Show some goddamn spine.  I wouldn’t even care if he yelled at me!  I’d just love...LOVE...to live with an actual man instead of that uptight prick…” Chris stared at the water that suddenly rippled like someone had thrown a stone into it.  He watched the sparkling water for a while longer and took a deep breath and sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted.  He attributed it to the endorphins from the run and jogged back the way he came.  

**********

Chris was still annoyed by the time he got back, though he was no longer as furious.  He’d decided to sit Brent down for a talk one way or the other.  That plan went out the window as soon as he’d opened the door.  

His first thought was that he’d entered the wrong apartment, but with the exception of the person standing at the fridge, it was all too familiar.  He had no idea who the man was.  Brent didn’t have many friends, and certainly none that would be standing in their underwear in his kitchen.  “Oh! Uh, hey.”  

“Mornin’,” the stranger yawned, turning from the refrigerator.  

Chris thought he was going crazy.  He blinked repeatedly, trying to wrap his brain around what he was seeing.  The man standing in his kitchen was covered in lean, defined muscle.  He wasn’t as big as Chris, but he was certainly ripped.  The slight dusting of hair covering that definition grew thicker at the modest pecs and ran down the washboard abs in a dark line to disappear inside the bulging briefs.  “Buh...Brent?”  There was no mistaking it.  As impossible as it was, the fit, toned stranger in his kitchen was his roommate.  His normally pasty skin had taken on a light tan, and his usually fastidious hair wasn’t just a sleepy mess, the light brown color also looked like it was darker.  

“Cuh...Chris?”  Brent laughed, mocking his roommate’s shocked expression.  

“But...you...what...what happened?”  Being presented with the impossible left Chris dizzy.  He looked Brent up and down, marveling at the changes.  There was a tiny, perky bubble pushing out the back of the briefs, and Chris couldn’t help but linger on the impressive bulge.  The one time he’d accidentally walked in on Brent in the shower he’d gotten a view of the man naked, and he knew Brent wasn’t that endowed.  Or hairy.  

Brent watched Chris staring at him with a cocky grin.  “To me, or to you?  Why’re you being such a fuckin’ weirdo?”  He downed a protein shake in one gulp and tossed the empty carton on the counter.  Chris was almost as shocked by this as the physical changes.  Not only did Brent look entirely different, he was acting like a different person too.  

“Yoooo...earth to Chris,” Brent came over and waved his hand in Chris’s face.  “Still with me, bud?”  He reached down and gave the lump in Chris’s running shorts a quick swat, laughing as the other man yelped and pulled away.  

“Ow!”  Chris winced and pulled away, but couldn’t suppress a grin.  It was the kind of horsing around he did with his friends, but never with Brent.  

“Just trying to get your attention.  Seriously, dude, you’re creeping me out with the staring.”  He hooked his thumbs in his briefs and tugged them down far enough to reveal a thick, dark bush, before pursing lips that were fuller than Chris remembered.  “You see something you like,” he purred.  

Chris actually blushed as he looked away.  “Fuck you,” he laughed, shaking his head.  “Sorry, I just don’t remember you looking so, uh, cut.  New workout?”  He was scrambling to make sense of anything as he continued to feel like the floor was dropping out from underneath him.  

“Seriously bro, you might wanna cool it on the runs.  I don’t think you’re getting enough oxygen to that pretty little head of yours.”  Brent tousled Chris’s blonde hair condescendingly.  “Do you really not remember us going to the gym last night?”  

“No, dude, of course I...do…” Chris stammered, surprised that he actually did.  Though he could have sworn it never happened, he suddenly had a vivid memory of the two of them working out.  They always did.  Why wouldn’t they.  “Whoa…” he gasped, feeling a wave of deja vu.  This all started to seem less weird all of a sudden.  “I think I just need a shower.”  

He left a confused Brent and hurried into the bathroom.  He stripped out of his clinging shorts and underwear and stared at his reflection while the shower warmed up.  He still looked the same.  Same broad shoulders, same big arms, same tight waist, same heavy, banana hang, and same round, firm ass.  He couldn’t believe that Brent seemed hairy compared to him now, his roommates wiry carpet making the light dusting across his chest and arms seem foolish by comparison.  But why wouldn’t it?  Chris was starting to wonder why he thought of Brent as scrawny and pasty.  He knew his friend wasn’t like that.  And why had he been annoyed with him?  He loved Brent.  Didn’t he?  

“Don’t use all the hot water.”  

Chris started at Brent’s unexpected voice as the other man came in and stood in front of the toilet.  He watched Brent fish a sizeable hose out of his briefs and relieve himself.  Their apartment had an open, modern style bathroom, so there was no door or curtain separating the shower, leaving him totally on display.  Chris didn’t know why that thought made him tingle.  

“Actually, fuck it,” Brent said, pulling his briefs down the rest of the way.  He stepped over the small rise and stood behind Chris in the shower.  

“Uh, dude, what’re you doing?”  Chris blushed as he felt Brent’s naked body brush against his bare backside.  

“What’s it look like?”  Brent nudged in front of him to push Chris out of the way and took his place under the warm stream.  “Do my back, will ya?”  

Chris had no idea why he was doing it as he grabbed the soap and started lathering up Brent’s broad back.  He shook his head again, trying to remember if Brent had been this big just a few minutes ago.  He thought of his friend as lean and toned, but the man in front of him was just as  built as he was.  The expansive back between Brent’s muscled shoulders was broad and wide and led down to a set of large, round cheeks.  On top of it all was a layer of dark, wiry hairs that pricked against his palms as he ran his hands up and down.  He’d never lathered another man up in the shower before, so Chris didn’t know if it was natural for it to feel as good as it did, but he wasn’t aware of just how good he was feeling until his solid cock brushed against Brent’s hairy backside.  

“Oh!”  Chris turned purple from embarrassment.  He’d showered with other guys in locker rooms and gyms for years and it had never gotten him hard before.  

“Well well,” Brent laughed, his voice a deep rumble.  He turned to face Chris, giving his humiliated friend a smug grin.  

“So...sorry, I...I don’t know why that’s…” Chris stammered.  He couldn’t understand what he was seeing.  There was no denying that Brent looked different than he had just a few minutes ago.  His friend’s pecs were no longer modest, but instead bulged off his chest between a set of powerful arms.  His washboard abs were less defined, but the wide, firm stomach looked no less powerful.  And though he’d only seen it briefly, the thick club dangling between Brent’s meaty thighs was definitely bigger.  

It wasn’t just the muscle that had changed either.  Brent’s tan had continued to darken, and the hairs that were just a wiry coating on his torso now curled into a thick carpet across his chest and stomach.  Even his shoulders were sprouting fur, and he’d already felt the growing layer on Brent’s back.  

But it was his friend’s face that most caught his attention.  It was a face that could never sport a mousy, timid look.  Brent had a set of thick, full lips, and prominent, beakish nose.  His cheekbones, what was visible of them above the thick stubble, were high and sharp, and he had dark, brooding eyes under his bushy eyebrows.  The changes combined to make him look older, appearing closer to his mid-30s than his mid-20s.   

“Just do my front,” Brent said sternly, never losing his cocky grin.  

Chris felt his cock throb as he ran his hands across Brent’s now-meaty chest.  His fingers stroked through the dense fur and he loved how strong and powerful the other man felt.  As his hands worked down Brent’s firm gut he started to feel insecure about his own body.  Instead of feeling confident about his impressive build and handsome face, Chris just felt weak and boyish.  It didn’t matter how big his arms were or how long his own cock was, his mostly smooth skin and pretty features felt anything but masculine.  

“Did I tell you to stop?  It’s not gonna wash itself.”  

Chris had paused when his fingers found their way into Brent’s thick bush, but at the other man’s command he kept going.  His hands were trembling as they slid underneath Brent’s large, heavy balls and between his burly, hairy thighs.  Chris couldn’t help but get a close up view of Brent’s thick snake as he bent to scrub the man’s rocky calves and wide, long feet.  

“You missed a spot,” Brent said, grabbing Chris’s head and grinding his cock against the side of his friend’s face.  

Instead of trying to pull away, Chris groaned.  He didn’t know why he was doing it, but without hesitating he sucked as much of Brent as he could into his mouth.  Not even the shock of having another man’s dick in his mouth for the first time could pierce the haze that had settled over him.  He loved the sensation of the warm, throbbing organ filling his mouth and resting on his tongue.  This is what a real cock was, he told himself, not the almost hairless thing between his legs.  

He fought the urge to gag as Brent hit the back of his throat while he bobbed his head back and forth.  He buried his face in Brent’s dense bush, his hands gripping the other man’s huge, prominent backside.  Above him, his growing friend just grunted deeply and pumped his hips, roughly face-fucking the kneeling stud.  

When Brent finally came, he pulled his cock free and blasted all over Chris’s face and chest with a loud bellow of pleasure.  Instead of being mortified, Chris loved the feeling of the sticky fluid soaking him.  It meant he’d done a good job.  

“Not bad,” Brent rumbled.  

Chris gasped when he looked up.  Brent had gone from “built” to “huge”.  His friend was so wide now that he almost spilled out of the shower area, with biceps the size of Chris’s head and pecs that were like a granite shelf of furry muscle above a beach-ball roid gut.  On top of all this extra mass was a carpet so dense his friend looked like a meathead sasquatch.  Dark, curly hairs sprouted all over his front and back in patches so thick that Chris could have grabbed them and held on.  

Brent looked older, too.  The changed facial features had taken on a rougher, weathered look, making him appear middle aged.  In addition to the brillo-like stubble, there was a thick mustache under his friend’s lengthened nose that matched the close-cropped, jet black hair on his scalp.  Chris squirmed under Brent’s dark, piercing gaze, feeling like a child.  

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Brent said, grabbing Chris by an arm and hauling him to his feet.  By now the water was cold and he gasped when Brent manhandled him in front of the shower, loving how it felt to be enveloped in his friend’s ample hair and meaty embrace.  He squirmed against Brent’s meaty, furry torso while his friend’s huge, strong paws were all over his body.  

Chris had never been manhandled like this before in his life, but he loved it.  Brent’s rugged hands were electric on his chest and stomach.  He squealed when the other man roughly tugged on his solid cock and low hanging balls, eliciting a deep chuckle from Brent.  

“Since you did such a good job I’ll help you out with that,” Brent said, bouncing Chris’s oozing pole.  The addled man didn’t know what Brent had in mind until he felt a hand slide between his cheeks.  Before he could register what was happening, two thick, strong fingers were inside him.  

“OOOOHHHH!”  Chris grunted and raised up on his toes while Brent’s relentless fingers fished around inside his hole.  “Brent...fuuuck...fuuuuUUUUH!”  He whined and leaned forward when the probing fingers found their mark.  He’d never felt anything like it.  He couldn’t speak, he could only squirm and groan while Brent fingered him.  

“Better hurry up...I’m not gonna do this all day,” Brent said gruffly.  

Chris didn’t know what else to do.  He steadied himself against the wall with one arm and reached down with the other to start jerking himself off.  There was a small part of his brain that reeled at what was happening.  He knew he was masturbating in front of a guy who was fingering him, and he thought that felt wrong, but it was drowned out by the sudden explosion.  Chris couldn’t groan, or scream, or whine; all he could do was gasp wordlessly while he sprayed like a hose.  

“Oh...oh shit…” he gasped, leaning back against Brent’s solid wall of a body.  

“Good boy,” Brent said, slapping Chris’s perky bubble and talking to him like he was a dog.  He made the other man towel him dry before doing himself.  

Chris followed Brent out into the apartment in a dim haze.  His brain was struggling to incorporate years of new memories, leaving the naked young man with a sensation like whiplash.  He walked out and stared at an apartment full of large, leather furniture that at first seemed totally foreign.  Then he blinked and found himself looking at surroundings that were somehow familiar.  He didn’t know what to believe anymore; the feelings telling him this was wrong, or the ones telling him this was right.  Instead of being the home of two twenty-something bachelors, the apartment was clearly the home of a man.  Oak and leather were everywhere, and masculinity practically oozed out of the walls.  

“Where do you think you’re going?”  Brent’s tone froze Chris in his tracks.  He’d been walking towards a room he thought was his, but now realized wasn’t.  “You know you don’t go anywhere without this.”  

“I...oh...sorry,” he said meekly as Brent fastened a thick leather collar around his neck.  

“That’s better.  Now clean this place up.”  

Chris felt like he should be getting dressed, but instead he hurriedly set about tidying up the apartment.  His built, athletic frame was on display all morning as he went from room to room, wiping, mopping and dusting every surface.  While he was left naked, Brent had draped an open, leather vest over his beefy torso.  His ample fur spilled out around the neck and through the shoulders while his hairy muscle gut stuck out in front.  The only other thing he’d put on was a straining jock whose back straps disappeared in the dense fur of his well-muscled ass.  Chris would find himself stopping and staring in awe at this walking mountain of manhood until Brent would catch him and yell at him to get back to work.  

Chris lost track of how long he’d been at it.  He was sore and sweaty from all the bending and crouching and reaching to clean everything, and the collar was starting to chafe.  He’d just barely loosened it when he heard Brent’s booming voice.  

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!?”  

Chris started shaking as Brent’s huge frame lumbered towards him.  “I...I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to…” 

“YOU KNOW THE RULES!” Brent barked, grabbing him by the back of the neck.  “I’m the only one that touches the collar!  Got that?”  

“Ye...yes...sorry!”  Chris could only scamper along as Brent pulled him over to the couch.  

“You’re going to have to be taught a lesson.”  

What was happening didn’t register until Chris was sprawled across Brent’s beefy legs and he felt the first blow land on his ass.  He yelped when Brent’s rough hand came down again and again on his firm, athletic rear.  He squirmed helplessly, imagining what he must look like.  His sculpted, gym-built body bent over Brent’s lap getting spanked like an unruly child.  Despite his panic and fear, he felt his cock surge at the thought.  

“Oh, no,” Brent said, giving Chris’s red, stinging cheeks a final whack.  “This is punishment, remember?”  

Chris was flipped over onto his back and pinned in place by one of Brent’s hammer-like forearms across his chest.  With his other hand, Brent reached down and roughly grabbed Chris’s solid rod.  “Let’s just take care of this first,” Brent seethed, his wide hands pulling and tugging on the pinned man’s aching cock and balls.  

Chris winced and yelped at the mix of pleasure and pain he felt.  His ass stung and it felt like Brent would rip his dick off.  This wasn’t a romantic or even playful jerk off; this was punishment.  He stared up at his friend’s older face, feeling a rush of lust even in the midst of his torment.  Brent’s thick mustache only accentuated his high cheekbones and strong jawline.  Chris could only dream of being a man like that someday.  

When he came, Brent angled his dick so that he sprayed all over his chest and abs.  He was shifted off Brent’s lap onto the floor in a panting heap while the other man stomped out of the room.  When he came back, all Chris could do was let him lift his legs and slide something into place.  

“You’ve earned this for a while,” Brent said as he snugged the metal chastity belt into place.  

Chris looked down at the cage that his package had been squished into.  It was like wearing a mix between a jockstrap and a medieval torture device.  He knew that with this on, it would be painfully impossible for him to get hard.  

“Now finish cleaning this place up while I get ready.  Let’s see how you feel after a few hours at the Post.”  

Chris didn’t even stop to wipe himself off.  He let the cum dry on his torso while he waddled around uncomfortably with the confining device on.  He didn’t stop until the apartment was sparkling.  

“That’s enough for now.”  

Chris felt exactly how uncomfortable he would be when he looked up and felt his cock surge helplessly.  Under the vest, Brent had put on a leather harness that criss-crossed and accentuated his burly pecs and his solid, round gut.  Two bright, silver piercings now stood out through the fur on his large nipples.  His stout, trunk-like legs were covered by leather pants that Chris somehow knew snapped open into a pair of chaps.  

“Get over here.”  Brent pointed to his shiny black boots and Chris obediently hurried over and stood.  He let Brent slide a pair of tight, tiny leather shorts on.  They bulged out in the front around the metal cage and were so small that the bare bottoms of his round cheeks hung out.  His torso was covered by a thin, mesh tanktop that was just long enough to barely cover his sculpted pecs and his feet were slid into a pair of shiny black ankle boots.  

A part of him was mortified when Brent grabbed a bag, attached a leash to his collar, and pulled him out the door.  He felt the breeze on his bouncing cheeks as he scampered along behind to keep up with Brent’s powerful stride.  People on the sidewalk stared, but no one was brave enough to say anything to the hairy beast.  Chris’s other half loved every second of it.  He’d been bad and had to be punished.  He loved how Brent dominated him and told him what to do.  It was terrifying when he was mad, but he never felt safer than when he was with him.  

When they reached the Post, Chris found himself in a dimly lit leather dungeon.  His eyes went wide with desire when he saw the sea of beefy, hairy men who looked like Brent, but he knew he wouldn’t be spending his time at the bar with them.  He would be doing what the other guys who looked like him scattered around the room were doing.  They were all in various states of bondage.  Some were strapped to pommels, some were suspended in a sling, and some, like he was about to experience, were chained to the floor.  

He blushed when Brent abruptly undid his shorts and pulled them free, leaving his exposed package on display for everyone as it was squished into the small cage.  While he struggled with that, Brent fastened a set of thick knee pads on his toned legs and a pair of thick, boxing glove like mits on his hands.  Before Chris could ask what was happening, a metal guide was shoved in his mouth, forcing it open.  He gave Brent a wide eyed stare as the other man hooked a chain to his collar and pulled him to his knees.  

“I’ll come by and check on you in a bit,” was all Brent said, leaving Chris chained on all fours.  The bound stud squirmed and pulled against the chain, finding that it wasn’t even long enough for him to kneel upright.  If his arms got tired he would have to lay on the floor like a dog.  He quickly discovered that he wasn’t going to have a lot of time to rest.  

Within a few minutes he heard a pair of men come up behind him.  He didn’t even see who they were.  All he felt were a pair of meaty hands on his trim waist moving him into position before a thick cock was shoved inside him.  He groaned against the guard, his cock already aching as it fought to escape the cage.  Without even pausing their conversation, the other man came around front and shoved his cock into Chris’s pried-open mouth.  All the naked young man could do was writhe and whimper while he was stuffed from both ends.  Eventually both men came without ceremony, spurting all over Chris’s prone frame and walking away.  

The pattern repeated itself over and over.  It was relentless.  And while he was being stuffed by the hairy brutes, all he could do was stare longingly at Brent.  He watched his master mingle with his peers; other men who were every bit as built and hairy.  He couldn’t help but feel a surge of envy when he saw them go at it.  Watching Brent’s powerful body buck and writhe while another of the bull’s took him from behind was mesmerizing.  Chris knew he could never do that.  He’d never be man enough to take Brent.  He felt foolish for even thinking it.   

As the hours rolled by, Chris started to feel like he was on some kind of bondage vision-quest.  He was tired and dehydrated.  He was covered in sweat and cum from head to toe.  His hair was matted from countless gallons of the men’s sticky fluid and a veritable river of it was oozing from his battered hole.  The tight cage left him blue-balled to the point of nausea.  Part of him longed for Brent to release him, but another part wanted to stay right where he was.  He wasn’t sure he could stand anyway.  

It was while staring at his burly lover that Chris’s vision blurred.  He suddenly saw Brent as a scrawny, mousy man with no hair or muscle.  The leather gear hung loose off his wiry frame and he looked over at Chris with a horrified expression as reality came crashing down on the bound man.  Chris suddenly remembered everything.  Brent wasn’t a hairy muscle beast.  He was a timid little nerd.  And he knew he shouldn’t be naked on all fours like a living sex toy.  A wave of crushing humiliation washed over him and he fought against his bindings with renewed vigor, desperate to escape the nightmare he found himself in.  

His vision blurred again, a memory of that morning standing by the pool in the woods flashing through his head.  Only this time he wasn’t alone as he stared at the water.  Standing on the opposite bank was a ragged, withered old woman.  Her bare, spotted scalp was visible through the few straggling strands of hair she had left and she didn’t appear to be much more than flesh and bone beneath her stained, ratty gown.  She was staring at Chris with hungry, predatory eyes that were jet black.  Chris heard his voice, only this time he knew he wasn’t talking to himself.  “I’d love...LOVE...to live with an actual man…” he’d said.  The woman’s hideous face broke into a toothless grin as she dropped a stone into the pool.  

“Hey...HEY!”  

The booming voice brought Chris back to the present.  He looked around frantically, calming when he saw Brent’s hulking body towering over him.  

“What’s going on over here?”  The stern voice was tinged with concern.  “You were thrashing around like crazy.”  He bent and stroked Chris’s back, looking him up and down.  “Alright, I think you’ve had enough.”  The slightest tenderness crept into his eyes, making Chris melt.  He tried to remember what he’d just been so panicked about, but it was gone.  He stretched his jaw painfully when Brent pulled the guide free and gasped when the cage was removed.  He didn’t even care that he was naked in front of everyone; he just needed release. He couldn’t stand, so Brent scooped him up and carried him over to a table.  Chris almost teared up at the sensation of being cradled in his master’s meaty, furry arms as he was set down.  He was only dimly aware of the growing crowd around them as Brent hoisted his thighs and pulled him into position.  

Even after the hours of strange men, Chris moaned blissfully at the familiar sensation of Brent’s cock the second it slid inside.  He let out a deep sigh and squirmed on the table.  Being hard had never felt better to the addled young man.  He felt his solid cock slap against his stomach while he bucked against Brent’s powerful thrusts.  The older man’s carpet felt wonderful against the underside of his thighs and his bare backside.  Chris heard himself let loose a high pitched scream when he finally came, nearly blacking out from the force of the release.  When Brent was still pumping long after he’d cum, Chris didn’t care.  He just stared out at the sea of spectators, feeling a rush of pride that the animal drilling his hole had chosen him.     

He gazed longingly at the arrogant smirk grinning down at him.  Brent could last for an eternity if he had to, and Chris was content to let him.  He’d do whatever the burly beast said, no matter how embarrassing.  At the end of the day, he was just happy that he had a real man taking care of him.