Campus Nights, ch. 1 (Patreon)

***** There were three "Subject" options that blew the rest out of the water (Frat Boy, Cop, Professor), so instead of picking one, I went with all three.  As for the "Transformation Mechanic," the Cursed Object was the winner.  For this story, some chapters will have fewer options than others, and some chapters will be longer or shorter than others.  With as many characters and options, I don't want to rush through things.  This could be ambitious, but let's just see where it goes! *****

Randall staggered across campus, his fumbling steps lurching him erratically forward.  He couldn’t get his body to move the way he wanted it to.  His normally spry steps were heavy and awkward.  He tripped and caught himself over and over, refusing to look down.  Looking down meant seeing his body, and feeling it was bad enough.  

Panic was something he didn’t have time for.  He had to get to Carter, to warn him, before it was too late.  “I should have written it down…” Randall muttered under his breath, clutching desperately at the memory of his message.  He could feel himself slipping.  “I warned Carter what could happen...I told him!  I told him this...this thing...shouldn’t mess with it.  Only bad could come of it...damn him!”  he cursed and ranted, quickening his pace.  

“My name is Randall Martin. I’m a Professor of Cultural Studies.  My name is Randall Martin.  I’m sixty four years old.  My name is Randall Martin.  I’m a Professor…” Randall repeated his mantra out loud, the distance between his office and Carter’s feeling hopelessly long.  Normally he enjoyed taking a leisurely stroll to the other side of campus, especially in the warm, summer air, but now he felt like a starving man crossing the Sahara.  With each step more and more of himself fell away.  His thoughts came to him through a growing quagmire, his focus increasingly shifting to his new body.  

He’d been studying the statue, currently wedged under a heavy arm, in his office when it happened.  One moment he was a thin, lanky older man inspecting a portion of the intricate carvings, and the next he was something else entirely.  He and Carter had no idea what the statue depicted.  His younger colleague had found it while galavanting on one of his Amazonian expeditions, but it was unlike anything either of them had ever seen.  It didn’t line up with the known tribal cultures in the area, including the ones dating back to prehistory.  Even the stone from which it was carved defied identification.  The statue itself was roughly fourteen inches tall, while the the strange creature it depicted appeared to be a hybrid of mammal and insect, with several bulging eyes, multiple limbs, and antennae-like appendages sprouting almost at random from its body.  The level of detail was astounding.  Neither of them had been able to pinpoint an era yet, but the statue was clearly very, very old.  To have been rendered in such lifelike detail suggested an advanced civilization that, so far, had gone undiscovered.  

He’d been studying one of the many eyes when, in unison, they all blinked.  He’d taken a step back, rubbing his own face and blaming eye strain, until he felt himself start to change.  His body grew painfully tight and stiff.  His rigid frame was frozen in place for an eternity, in reality only a moment, until all at once the pressure vanished.  There was a palpable wave of relief as the constricting force loosened and his body relaxed, only it didn’t stop.  His muscles pressed outwards, the tight shirt exploding open against the force of his expanding chest. There was an equally loud rip as his pants shredded.  He gasped for breath, pain lacing through his skull as he staggered around his office.  He seemed to lose all coordination as his heavy, muscular new limbs flailed about.  He only caught sight of his face briefly, seeing smooth skin and a full head of hair in place of his wrinkled, balding countenance.  

After that he didn’t look.  He grabbed the statue and hurried out of his office.  The weight of his heavy, bulging pecs bouncing in the warm evening air was constantly threatening to distract him, as was the increasing tightness in his partially exposed briefs.  He knew what he must look like frantically scrambling across campus in his tattered, ill-fitting clothes, but he had no choice.  He needed to get the statue to Carter.  

“My name is Randall Martins.  My name is Randall Martins.  My name is Randall Martins.  My name is…”   

**********

Ethan struggled for breath as he slowed his rapid sprint to a comfortable trot.  He was nearing the end of his run and had blown through his intervals, so now he could just enjoy himself.  He loved being on campus this time of year.  The university emptied out after the Spring semester, leaving just the handful of students like himself who took Summer courses.  Even better, the frat house dropped down to just a few of the guys who didn’t have anywhere else to go for the intervening months.  That meant no long lines for the showers, no constant bumping into people in the hall, and no accidentally walking in on a masturbating roommate.  The small group that stuck around actually had some privacy, as opposed to just fantasizing about it.  

The empty campus also meant Ethan didn’t have to feel as self-conscious loping about in his tiny running shorts.  The boxers he always wore were bigger than the skimpy shorts, and despite the knowledge that the thin, split-leg material was the best choice from a functional perspective, he was always a little embarrassed.  It’s why he did his running in the evening.  Not that Ethan needed to worry about his looks.  There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his lean, 5’10” frame, nor was he lacking in solid, well-defined muscle.  His ripped torso, with tan skin glistening under beads of sweat, was an outlined map of major muscle groups.  Pecs, abs, biceps, triceps, lats; all stood out prominently, flexing and inflating as he covered mile after mile.  The shorts that he was so embarrassed about only accentuated his sturdy quads as the thin material spread wide around them.  He never gave it much thought himself, but he’d been told by several girlfriends that the shorts made his tight, round bubble look exceptional.  It helped that he was usually too busy focusing on his form and breathing to think about his relatively exposed state, but buried deep there was a part of him that always felt a slight thrill, knowing full well how good he really looked.  Fortunately, that part was buried under a mountain of boyish charm.  Ethan still had a youthful, all-american face that was a sharp contrast to his powerful, masculine body.  If he tried, he could have been truly striking, but as it was he just thought of himself as one of the boys.  He was a jeans-and-t-shirt kind of guy, with a beauty regimen that consisted of brushing his teeth, putting on deodorant, and running a comb through his wavy locks when he didn’t forget.  He didn’t keep himself in shape out of vanity; he truly enjoyed athletics.  He ran and lifted every day, with a heaping helping of rec league sports in between. Soccer, baseball, basketball - as long as he was moving, he was happy.  It’s what he loved most about running.  He could shut his brain off and let his body take over.  

It was this detached state of mind that kept him from paying more attention than he should have been as he rounded a corner and collided with a passing stranger.  “Whoa!  Oh, shit, I’m so sorry!”  Ethan said, shaking his head and trying to catch his startled breath.  His first thought upon seeing the buff, sculpted man was that he’d fallen, but he quickly realized that they were both still standing.  This meant that the man’s outfit had been shredded somewhere else.  Ethan tried not to look stunned as he took in the ample muscles sticking out and straining against the obviously too-small clothes.  Whoever he was, the man’s pants were just barely hanging on.  They were completely tattered around his wide, trunk-like legs and had split at the fly, leaving a pair of equally tight white briefs almost entirely on display.  Ethan actually felt himself blush when he noticed the long, rigid cock outlined against the tight pants.  What remained of the man’s shirt served only to make his already prominent muscles seem even larger, his bowling ball shoulders and granite arms hanging exposed in the night air.  Ethan could have used the man’s chest as a shelf his pecs were so developed, and he had a set of abs that made Ethan’s washboard seem flabby.  “Uh, hey man, you okay?” Ethan asked gently, finally registering the confused look in the man’s bright green eyes.  Even though he looked to be around Ethan’s age, maybe a year or two younger, Ethan didn’t remember ever seeing him on campus.  He would have remembered someone built like that, and he definitely would have heard the girls talking about someone with a face that handsome.  Ethan didn’t usually size up other guys for their looks, but even he had to admit that the man’s chiseled jaw, razor cheeks, and plump lips were impressive.  

“I’m Ran...Ran...I’m…” the man repeated in a daze.  

“You were running?  Did you get hurt?”  Ethan reached for the phone strapped to his large bicep.  “Do you want me to call someone?”  

The man’s eyes went wide and he shook his head.  “I’m Ran...R...I’m...I…” he stammered a few more times before turning and running off in the direction he’d been heading.  

With his bodybuilder frame and torn clothes, Ethan felt like he was watching an old episode of the Incredible Hulk as the man disappeared around another corner.  He hesitated, debating whether or not he should call the cops, but ultimately decided against getting involved.  He told himself the man was probably just drunk or high, and was about to resume his run, until he saw the small bundle on the sidewalk.  

“What the fuuuuck….” He picked up the strange statue and turned it over in his hands, shuddering slightly at the sinister detail.  “Guy must’ve dropped it…” He looked back in the direction the man had gone, but decided against trying to follow him.  Instead he took it with him, figuring he could return it when he ran into the man again later.  Whoever he was, he was certainly noticeable enough that Ethan would undoubtedly hear about him again.  

**********

“Okay, one more time, I need you to focus,” Carter said calmly to the addled young man in his office.  “Where is the statue?”  

“I...I don’t...I don’t know…” the man stammered, staring down at his naked body with wide, shocked eyes.  He reached a large hand for the massive, rigid cock that stood straight out from his hulking body.  “I’m Ran...I’m…” he said, absently stroking himself.  

Carter sighed and tried to maintain his composure as he watched the sculpted muscle man pump absently away on his impossible cock.  On the one hand, he felt sheer triumph.  On the other, he was furious.  The sudden appearance of the confused stud at his office door meant the statue was awake.  Unbeknownst to Randall, he’d been trying to activate it for weeks, but the stars were never in the right position.  Carter had been lying to the old man ever since he returned from the Amazon.  He was well aware of where the statue came from and exactly what it depicted.  He hadn’t needed his colleague’s professional opinion; he’d needed a guinea pig.  The statue would demand a sacrifice when it woke up, and Carter had no intention of allowing that to be him.  Randall, with his age and well-developed brain containing a lifetime of knowledge, was perfect.  The statue would suck out both, leaving a twisted husk in its wake.  

The results were better than Carter ever could have imagined.  He’d always hated the affected, dignified way that Randall had carried himself, and the condescending way in which he always spoke to everyone.  It chafed Carter every time they interacted.  Though he was only in his mid-forties, he was still Carter Willingham, renowned professor and world traveler.  He was every bit as accomplished as the older man, if not more so.  In addition to the desk work, he still went out into the field on a regular basis.  He climbed mountains, hiked through jungles, and explored ruins.  He had brains and body both in ample supply.  With his dashing, rugged good looks, students, male and female alike, threw themselves at him all semester long.  His finds made international news, and yet Randall always talked to him like he was still just some punk kid.  Not any more.  If the old man had ever learned what Carter truly found on his travelers it would have made what remained of his hair turn white.  

“Think, Randall,” Carter sighed, popping the top few buttons of his shirt and exposing a patch of his firm, hairy pecs.  “Where did you last have it?”  

Randall licked his lips at the sight of Carter’s exposed flesh and shook his head.  “I...don’t remember…” 

“Damnit,” Carter hissed.  On the verge of his greatest success, victory had been snatched away because Randall lost the statue. He hadn’t anticipated that the older man would take off running with it.  Now it was active and out there somewhere, only he had no idea where.  He knew he’d find it eventually.  Once its effects started spreading, they’d be hard to miss.  He just had to be patient.  He gave another deep sigh and unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way to expose the salt and pepper fur on his hairy, burly torso.  His stubble-covered cheeks spread into a sinister grin as he watched Randall stare lustfully at him.  “At least the night’s not a total loss,” he said, walking over to the naked stud.  

**********

“Can I help you?” Ethan laughed when he returned from his shower to find one of the other brother’s, a hulking wall of muscle named Liam, staring at the strange statue he’d left on his dresser.  

“What the fuck is it?”  The tall, beefy man asked as he picked it up and turned it over in his meaty paws.  

Ethan enjoyed Liam’s look of discomfort.  The large man always had a smug, “I Know I’m Bigger Than You” grin plastered on his round, bulldog face.  Liam’s favorite hobby was pushing the new blood around, but when they weren’t available, he turned that attention to everyone else.  Ethan had experienced more than a few of the brutish man’s “pranks” firsthand over the summer.  “No clue.  I literally ran into some weirdo on my run and he dropped it.  He took off before I could give it back to him.”  

“And you had to bring it back here?” Liam asked, running a hand over his buzzed scalp.  He shrugged his wide shoulders as he sat it back down.  “Eh, whatever, I’d rather look at this,” Liam cooed.    

“Hey!  Fuck you, man,” Ethan spat when Liam’s deceptively fast hands shot out and snatched the towel from around his waist, leaving him naked.  He covered his dangling, hefty package just as the other man took out his phone and snapped a few pictures.  “I will murder you if I see those online.”  Liam just laughed and walked down the hall, leaving Ethan to think about his revenge as he walked over to his dresser.  He started to open a drawer, but got distracted by the strange idol.  

“Hey dude, I’m gonna - whoops!  Sorry.”  

“Oh, uh, hey,” Ethan stammered when another of the brother’s, a short, lean young man named Grady, stuck his head in the door and caught him standing there naked.  “It’s cool, I just got visited by Liam,” he said, gesturing to his exposed state as he quickly pulled on a pair of plaid boxers.  He and Grady had roomed together their first year, so they were used to seeing each other without anything on.  “I’ve now had two dudes see my ass tonight.  Great.  What’s up?”  

Grady laughed as he strolled in and casually tugged the back of his basketball shorts down, exposing his large, hairy cheeks.  The shorter man’s years of playing soccer left him with a set of plump globes that he was all too happy to expose at a moment’s notice.  It also left him with a toned, whipcord frame that he showed off by almost never wearing a shirt.  “There.  Now we’re even.  Just wanted to see if you were down for some pool and beers later?  Mark and Landon should be back in a bit and we owe those fuckers for last time.” He tilted his head towards the dresser with a raised eyebrow.  “What the fuck is that?”  

“Don’t ask,” Ethan said, throwing on a loose tank-top and following Grady down the hall in his boxers.

Behind them, the statue watched.  

***** What happens first? NOTE: the first option is supposed to say “Ethan” not Grady. I can’t edit the poll options without deleting the whole post, sorry about that. *****