Interactive: Mall Days, ch. 5 (Patreon)

Dylan stared up at his ceiling fan, listening to the electric hum of the motor and the whirring of the blades.  He’d been listening and staring for hours.  Outside, the night sky was losing ground to the rising sun, casting a dim glow across the sculpted jock’s prone, naked frame.  Sleep was out of the question.  He’d stumbled into the tiny apartment in a daze, still in shock from the unexpected romp in the back of Evan’s truck.  The body buzz still coursed through him and no amount of cold showers could get it to leave.  The confused young man had scrubbed himself from head to toe three times, trying desperately to forget, or at least not to think about, how good it had all felt.  

None of it made sense.  Dylan thought back on the Intro to Psychology course he’d taken freshman year, wondering if this was some sort of delayed repression suddenly bursting out.  Maybe he really had been into guys all these years and just didn’t know it?  Maybe it had all been bottling up, waiting for just the right moment to shove him out of the closet?  

But even that didn’t explain everything.  He wasn’t just attracted to men, he was behaving like a giddy valley girl.  He’d giggled.  He’d been coy.  He’d tossed his hair and arched his back and waved his hands so much while he spoke his arms got tired.  Dylan refused to believe that any amount of repression could cause that much of a sudden shift.  But if it wasn’t a hidden desire coming to light, all that left him with was a throbbing cock and a hundred unanswered questions.  

He refused to give in to the incessant throbbing.  He lay with his powerful arms folded behind his head, one meaty leg cocked to the side while his aching member begged for release at the thought of what he’d done.  

It couldn’t just be a hidden desire.  He’d taken Evan like his body was built for it.  His virgin hole should have been sealed tighter than a bank vault.  The tall man’s thick rod should have split him in two, but all he’d felt was mind blowing pleasure.  Dylan’s naked body turned purple with embarrassment when he thought about it, eagerly propping himself up on all fours, the quick stab of pain making him gasp.  He could still hear his moans echoing through the forest around them.  The second time, Evan stretched out below him while he clutched the back of the cab and bounced up and down, had been nothing but ecstasy.  His thighs burned from the rapid fire squatting but it was nothing compared to the pure bliss he’d felt having the other man’s slick rod sliding in and out of him.  He hated himself for how much he wanted it again.  

“Goddamnit,” Dylan sighed, finally giving in.  He couldn’t stop his racing thoughts from replaying the scene over and over, swapping out Evan with the menagerie of other men he’d flirted with throughout the day.  He kept coming back to Mark, imagining what it would feel like to straddle his beefy coworker’s broad muscle gut while he was stuffed full by the older man’s undoubtedly fat, wide cock.  

Imagining it was his friend’s stout rod he gripped instead of his own, Dylan didn’t immediately notice that anything was wrong.  He pumped idly away, the shorter motions of his flicking wrist making sense on Mark’s wide rod, but not his own.  

“Wait...is that...shorter?”  Dylan lifted his head and gazed down past his sculpted pecs and washboard stomach to inspect the pulsing organ in his hand.  Normally when he wrapped a fist around it, the top of the shaft and the bulbous, shiny head were visible.  Now, though he was harder than ever, only the top two thirds of the oozing tip were exposed.  “No...this has gotta be something else,” Dylan stammered.  He tugged harder, as if he could stretch it back to the appropriate length.  “Fuck fuck fuck fuck!”  

He jumped out of bed.  If his eyes were telling him the truth, it meant his six and a half inches were now closer to five and a half inches.  “That can’t be possible,” he said to no one.  “It doesn’t just shrink, right?  Things don’t just shrink,” he continued to the empty room.  

Dylan’s reflection confirmed his fears.  He threw open his closet door and turned to the side, paling at the obviously shorter pole poking out from between his thighs.  To anyone else it wouldn’t have been noticeable.  His shapely member still looked perfectly at home on his muscular body, but to Dylan it might as well have been cut in half.  

“What the fuck is going on?!”  He stomped a foot in frustration, the unaccustomed rippling at his backside hitting him like a punch to the gut.  His attention had been so focused on what he’d lost that the terrified young man hadn’t noticed what he’d gained.  Standing as he was, Dylan gawked at a profile that bore a larger, rounder backside.  The perky bubble that had been carefully built in time with the rest of his precision bulk now looked just slightly too big.  The cheeks pushed out from his back a bit farther than they should, and appeared too round considering how firm the rest of his body was.  He was a tad bottom heavy.  

Despite the fear holding him rooted in place, Dylan’s first thought was to wonder how much better the bigger cheeks would feel with something hard and pulsing between them.  He could already picture the bouncing globes forming a vacuum seal while his tiny dick bobbed uselessly between his hairy quads.  

The thought made him cum without warning.  His untouched cock sprayed like a hose and coated the mirror, the sticky trails further twisting and distorting his reflection in the glass until he looked as strange as he felt.  

**********

“See you later, hon!”  Dylan waved the confused man off towards the register.  The thin, middle aged runner seemed as surprised by the bundle of small shorts and tank-tops in his hands as he was by the fact that he’d just asked for another guy’s number.  He said he’d come in for socks, but he was leaving with a revealing new wardrobe and a handsome stud’s contact info.  Dylan was equally surprised, but the broad, chipper smile on his face wouldn’t let it show.  

It was the third time that afternoon that a man had asked for his number.  Like the day before, the young jock found himself helplessly flirting with any male that crossed his path, but unlike the previous day, the men seemed much more interested in what he had to say.  Whereas before they treated him with a stunned indifference, now they were seemingly eager to follow his suggestions.  He’d sold a pair of bright yellow speedos to a sculpted young man who’d been looking for trunks, some tiny, revealing mesh shorts smaller than his boxer briefs to a stocky, older hunter, and had convinced a bashful member of his college’s baseball team to let him help pick out a jockstrap.  

Despite his inner humiliation, Dylan tried to focus on his behavior in order to not think about his body.  He’d been too afraid to look earlier that afternoon when he’d finally woken up.  He could tell by the unusual bagginess in the pouch of his boxer briefs that he’d continued to shrink, but at least that was a change he could keep to himself, unlike his new growth.  The fitted pants that used to accentuate his perky bubble now put it fully on display.  The large, plump globes were impossible to miss.  Instead of his proportional shape, Dylan was starting to look more like his friends who wrestled or played soccer.  

And everyone noticed.  He caught people staring over and over, some blatant, some trying to be subtle.  It was mortifying, or at least it should have been.  Dylan’s terror didn’t stop him from using the new additions to his advantage, making sure the growing mounds were well within view whenever he flirted with a confused customer.  

He’d tried to tell himself they weren’t growing any larger, but the increasing tightness in his pants told him otherwise.  When he’d first arrived at work his pants had been “tight” on him.  Now, they were closer to “plastered.”  He had a constant fear that the next time he bent flirtatiously some lucky man was going to get a much better view than they hoped for.  

“Uh, hey, are you Dylan?”  

Dylan turned just as the smiling man behind him darted his eyes up from his inflated rear.  He did his own slow, up and down look, recognizing the fit young man from the phone store towards the middle of the mall.  Dylan had hooked up with a thin redhead who worked there, but he’d never paid the other man much attention.  Now, looking at the way he filled out his company polo and tight khakis, his mouth watered.  He was built like Dylan, with prominent pecs and sleeve-straining biceps above a tiny waist.  He had a square jawed face that was covered in dark, scrubby stubble, and unlike Dylan a tuft of the same dark hair stuck out from behind the open buttons at the top of the polo and coated the other man’s sturdy arms.  

“That’s me,” Dylan said, leaning in to look at the other man’s name tag, “Jacob.  What can I do for you?”  He let his eyes drop to the front of Jacob’s khakis as he asked the last part.   

The dark haired man flashed him a familiar grin.  It was the same one Dylan used right before dropping a line on a girl.  “My buddy Evan told me I should come see you.”  

Dylan’s stomach dropped even as his smile remained.  Not only had he been fucked by another guy, word was already spreading.  He wanted to crawl into a pit at the thought of the tall blonde bragging about how he’d taken him over and over, but his body had other plans.  

“Oh! You know Evan?” he chirped.  “We just met yesterday.”

“I heard,” Jacob nodded.  “I gotta say, I knew who you were and I didn’t believe him when he told me, but lookin’ at you now…” the dark haired man pursed his lips and ran a hand over his short, gelled hair, “...you get a break any time soon?”  

Dylan’s stomach picked itself up off the floor and started fluttering.  “I’m due for one now, actually.”  He looked over at his burly friend behind the register and waved, pointing towards his watch and then tilting his head towards Jacob with an exaggerated wink.  The big man sighed and shrugged, nodding.  “Okay!  Where to?”

“The alley?” Jacob asked.  

“You read my mind,” Dylan purred, leading the way.  He caught a hint of just how much he’d grown when Jacob’s hand dropped to his ass and gave it a squeeze, the meaty paw feeling small by comparison as it bit into far too much flesh.  

They didn’t bother with small talk as they hurried towards the unused utility room.  They both knew exactly what was happening and weren’t interested in anything else.  As soon as they slipped through a door from the main concourse and back into the stark labyrinth of corridors that ran behind the stores they were all over each other.  Dylan reached back to grope Jacob’s hardening cock through his khakis while the other man kneaded his cheeks and kissed his neck.  The sinking pit returned to his gut when Dylan felt his own cock twitching, the once proud package not taking up nearly as much room as it should.  

Luckily the alley was empty when they arrived.  The abandoned utility closet earned its nickname from its long, narrow shape and rough cinder block of the walls.  It was the place where everyone went to grab a smoke or drink or get high on their break. If the door was propped open it meant you could go in.  If it was shut, you came back later.  

Dylan’s heart started racing when the metal door clanged behind them.  He’d hooked up with plenty of girls back here, but he knew he was about to experience the room from an entirely different perspective.  He let Jacob shove him back against the wall, his hands fumbling with the other man’s pants while his own were practically torn open.  He couldn’t suppress a gasp of relief when they were tugged down and his confined cheeks were allowed to bounce free.  He felt them squish against the rough wall while he stared down in horror towards his waist.  

“What’s wrong,” Jacob asked, following Dylan’s eyes.  “You’re big where it counts,” he grinned, swallowing the entirety of Dylan’s dwindling cock in his fist.  

Dylan groaned at the mix of horror and lust that shot through him.  The whimpering stud knew by the way Jacob gripped him that he had to have shrunk to a meager four inches, if that.  He squirmed his hips, working the little rod deeper into the other man’s rough palm while trying to pretend it was still his thick, powerful rod.  

Jacob let go, a smug expression falling over his dark features.  “I’ve got you covered,” he said, unzipping his fly and fishing out a long, rigid pole.  Dylan couldn’t believe how small he seemed next to the other man’s impressively average endowment as he was spun towards the wall.  “Holy shit!”  Jacob’s shocked laugh hit his ears at the same time as the other man’s hands on his pillowy cheeks.  Dylan went on his tip toes when Jacob began squeezing and slapping the inflated mounds, the bouncing and rippling running up his spine, lighting up pleasure centers he didn’t know he had.  “Evan didn’t tell me you had an ass this good.”  

“Glad...you like it…” Dylan panted, pressing back and wedging Jacob’s warm cock into the deep valley.  

The other man laughed and gripped Dylan’s trim waist, moving him into position.  “I know, I know.  We’re on a schedule.”  

It was the last thing either of them said before Jacob plunged inside.  Dylan let out a long, low moan as he pressed his face against the rough wall and closed his eyes.  He tried not to think about the fact that he stood with his pants around his ankles, taking another guy up his impossibly growing ass.  The fact that Jacob was still fully clothed, having just fished his life-giving rod free, only made Dylan feel worse.  He longed to get a look at the other man’s muscular, hairy torso, to taste the sturdy thighs that were driving the oozing rod in and out of him.  

But all he saw was the wall he leaned against.  All he heard were the sounds of his own grunts mixing with the new, loud slapping of his jiggling backside.  To Jacob’s credit, the other man reached down and tweaked the tiny cock oozing out from Dylan’s trimmed bush, his hand enveloping everything, balls and all.  Dylan couldn’t help but wonder if it was going to get smaller, and if he was going to get bigger.  He wondered if he was going to do this more often as word spread and his reputation as an easy fuck grew.  He wondered why he liked that thought so much.  

By the time Jacob sprayed into him minutes later, he’d already cum.  He could feel the pressure building up again when the young stud behind him gave one last, deep plunge and then groaned.  

“Oooohhh….oh fuck… “Jacob hissed, bucking his hips a few more times to work the remaining liquid from his softening hose.  “Evan wasn’t kidding, man.”  

Dylan giggled as Jacob gave his ass a rough swat.  “I’m glad he sent you my way,” he sighed.  

Jacob spun Dylan back around and put himself away.  “So who was better?”  

Dylan tapped his pursed lips with a finger while the other man’s fluid ran down his muscled legs.  “Hmm….” he pondered aloud, leaning back against the wall.  “Evan and I had more time, so that’s, like, totally not fair.  I guess we’ll just have to do this again,” he said, brushing a hand against Jacob’s sandpaper cheek.  

“For sure,” Jacob nodded.  “Any time you want, you know where to find me.”  

With that, Dylan watched the other man adjust his pants and hurry out the door, leaving him leaning against the wall, naked from the waist down.  He finally screwed up enough courage to look at himself and immediately wished he hadn’t.  Soft, his thin, shrunken cock looked like a small thumb nestled in the patch of hair, his once masculine balls sitting like a set of cherry tomatoes against his skin.  He pictured himself in the locker room with his current endowment, strutting around with a nearly invisible package amidst the hung jocks around him.  Then he thought about what those hung jocks could do to his inflated rear and his tiny member surged once again.  

He forced the thought from his mind and pulled his pants back up, barely closing them around the sacks of flesh at his backside.  He tried to wrap his head around the fact that he’d just been used as nothing more than a hole while at the same time trying to convince himself that he hadn’t actually loved it.  

“What’s, like, even happening to me,” he asked, sounding like an airhead even to himself now.  His watch beeped in response, the only answer Dylan knew he’d get.  The addled young jock took one last look at the alley before winding his way through the labyrinth of stark hallways, heading back to finish his shift.   

***** We're reaching a point where Dylan's story could end, or we could keep it going, but I'm leaving that up to you. *****