Interactive: Mall Days, ch. 6 (Patreon)

***** Turns out it was a 50/50 split on whether to end this one or keep going.  Since the goal was to keep the next few interactives on the shorter side, I decided to end Dylan's story for now so that we can get started on the next one.  Thanks to everyone who followed along and voted! *****

“What a day,” Dylan sighed, pulling down the steel shutter that closed the store off from the rest of the mall after hours.  “I still can’t, like, believe my pants ripped like that!”  

He looked over his shoulder and caught Mark staring at the plump, round globes filling out the back of his borrowed track pants.  Shortly after he’d returned from his romp with Jacob, his still-expanding rear had pushed his pants beyond capacity.  Even now, despite being a size too large, Dylan’s inflated rear stretched the blue polyester of the trackpants to the limit.  The shiny material wedged down into the valley of his enlarged bubble, showing off the straps of the jock he’d put on to replace his tattered underwear.  It had been a whim, something he’d done because he knew it would lift and accentuate the pillowy mounds.  Part of him was horrified by the idea, but a louder part loved it.  Unfortunately for Dylan, he was having a harder and harder time deciding which part to listen to.  

“Dude you were helping didn’t seem to mind,” Mark laughed.  “His wife didn’t seem too thrilled, though.”  

“She’s just jealous.”  Dylan shook his hips, causing his confined rear to bounce wildly.  

“Can you blame her,” Mark asked, not even trying to hide his ogling when the younger man turned back around.  

The horrified parts of Dylan hated the lustful stare in his friend’s eyes.  Mark had questioned Dylan’s strange new behavior the previous night, giving the confused jock a sliver of hope that the older man might somehow be able to help him.  Mark’s questioning had nearly been enough for Dylan to give voice to his own concerns.  He’d at least been able to hold onto them if nothing else.  Now, that hesitant Mark was nowhere to be seen.  His coworker wasn’t questioning any of it; he just eyed Dylan the way all the other men did, bringing the younger stud’s flirty new personality out in full.  

It was his friend’s behavior more than his own that told Dylan something impossible was at work.  They’d known each other for years.  Even if Mark was willing to overlook Dylan’s bizarre new behavior, his friend had to at least know his ass shouldn’t be as mammoth as it was.  The formerly perky cheeks had nearly tripled in size in a matter of days, distorting his perfectly proportional build into a bottom heavy hourglass.  And that wasn’t even including his dwindling package.  Mark had never seen it, but Dylan knew the older man should be questioning the petite lump in the front of the straining track pants.  When he’d gone to change, Dylan discovered that his once-proud member had shrunk to a terrifying degree, leaving a barely visible nub nestled in his manicured bush.  Instead of filling the pouch of the jock as he should, the baggy cotton had plenty of extra room.    

“I’m a little jealous I missed the show,” the bigger man sighed.  

“Why didn’t you say so?”  Dylan tugged the pants down without the slightest hesitation, his inflated rear rippling with motion as he kicked them free.  “Like, you just have to ask,” he chirped, grinning.  

“Whoa!” Mark laughed, his eyes going wide as they darted around to make sure all the shutters were closed.  Confident they wouldn’t be seen, he stepped closer to inspect his pantsless friend, something about the nearly empty pouch of the jock striking him as odd.  It was tented out only slightly by a small little poker that seemed out of place on Dylan’s virile young body.  He thought he’d seen a thick hose lurking in the other man’s tight pants before, but he told himself he must have imagined it.  With Dylan’s supple mountains in full view, it wasn’t his focus anyway.  “Holy shit, dude, I can see why your pants ripped,” he muttered, reaching down in a daze to palm one of the ample cheeks.  

Dylan gasped at the sensation of Mark’s strong, rough hand kneading the excessive flesh.  He pushed back into the grip, feeling a stab of fear at the sight of his miniscule tent.  

“How have I never noticed these before now?”  Mark asked.  “In all our years working together I never…” he trailed off, blushing.  “Weird to say about a dude, I know, but fuck, man, I’ve never seen an ass this nice on anyone.”  

“Aw, I bet you say that to all the girls,” Dylan purred.  He reached down and grabbed the bottom of his tight polo, slowly lifting it free to show off the rest of his athletic, muscular torso.  The explosive growth at his ass made his already-trim waist seem even tighter by comparison, accentuating the way his frame tapered inwards below his prominent pecs.  “You, like, saaaaaiiiid you wanted the whole show,” he laughed at Mark’s stunned expression.  

The older man’s mouth opened and closed in a futile attempt at speech, his straight guy brain trying to quickly rewire itself to account for the surge of lust he felt at the sight of Dylan’s naked body.  When the younger man reached over and began toying with the waist of his own pants, he didn’t pull away.  His breath came in fast, shallow gasps, his meaty pecs rising and falling quickly while he watched Dylan undo his fly and reach a hand in to grip his hardening bulge.  

“How have I, like, never noticed THIS before,” Dylan said, kneading Mark’s briefs until the older man was hard and throbbing against his hand.  

“To...to be fair, you never asked either,” the big man stammered, red faced.  

“Well come oooonnnnn then,” Dylan said, rolling his eyes.  “I, like, totally showed you mine.”  He hooked his thumbs in the elastic waist of the jock and tugged it down, letting his hard little thumb spring free.  The thin, three inch rod looked entirely out of place on Dylan’s muscled frame, but the naked jock just crossed his chiseled arms over his chest and stuck it forward proudly.  None of the inner turmoil he felt over the loss of his girthy package showed on his handsome face, only an expectant grin.  

His burly friend turned purple with embarrassment, but eventually the older man hesitantly pushed his pants and briefs down, exposing the fat, stout cock and pair of hairy, powerful thighs.  Mark’s wide six inches looked massive next to Dylan’s diminished endowment, but they were both too busy to comment.  

As soon as Mark’s pants were down Dylan lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his friend’s beefy frame, mashing their lips together.  His hands slid up under Mark’s shirt to stroke his broad, hairy back, his fingers biting into the thick, coiled muscle flexing underneath.  The older man’s round, furry muscled gut pressing against him felt nothing like Evan and Jacob’s flat, smooth stomachs had, and he loved it.  

Squirming in Mark’s bearish embrace, Dylan felt foolish for ever having looked down on the other man.  He couldn’t believe he’d ever viewed the solid, hairy wall of muscle as “washed up.”  He’d always felt so smug about his own sexual exploits that it never occurred to him to wonder about Mark’s.  His brawny friend was always lamenting how he couldn’t get laid as easily, but Dylan knew the older man had to have plenty of experience under his belt.  Now, gasping and whimpering as Mark’s tongue made it’s way down his long neck, Dylan’s suspicions were confirmed.  The older man knew exactly what he was doing.  

“OOOhhhhhh….so...someone’s been holding out on me,” Dylan panted as Mark’s stubbled cheeks scratched across his chest to swallow his other nipple.  

“Says this guy,” Mark laughed, slapping Dylan’s bare cheeks, his mouth dropping lower.  

Dylan let out a wordless groan when Mark unexpectedly swallowed the entirety of his shrunken package.  Not only was the sensation of having his entire cock and tiny balls worked in unison overwhelming, he was surprised that the other man was even interested. Based on his experiences with Evan and Jacob, Dylan had been expecting Mark to want a quick fuck and nothing more.  Yet here Mark was, on his knees, taking his time bringing Dylan to the brink over and over.  The whimpering young man clutched Mark’s buzzed, balding head, staring in wide-eyed wonder at the older man’s broad, flexing shoulders as he kneaded Dylan’s beach ball rear.  

“You okay?” Mark asked when he finally pulled his mouth free and saw Dylan’s shocked face.  

“Yeah...I just didn’t think you’d…” 

Mark flashed a smug smile as he stood and peeled out of his shirt, finally giving Dylan a full view of his furry barrel of a torso.  “That’s the problem with you young guys...always in a hurry.”  He looked down at his own throbbing pole expectantly.  “What’s the rush?”  

Dylan was on his knees in a flash, his soft, full lips forming a vacuum seal around Mark’s thick pole.  He winced internally as he felt his inflated rear squishing against the back of his calves but was soon too focused on the warm cock in his mouth to care.  Like the first time he’d bottomed, Dylan found himself taking to giving head like a fish to water.  There was no awkward fumbling or gagging.  He somehow knew exactly what he was doing, deep throating the oozing pole without effort while he clung to Mark’s furry rear.  It wasn’t nearly as big as his, but the older man had his own set of thick, substantial cheeks.  

The young man lost himself in the musky wonderland until Mark eventually guided his face free.  The breathless older man’s heavy chest was heaving, his face flushed.  “See?  It’s better when you take your time.”  

“To...tooootally,” Dylan nodded, climbing to his feet and following along as Mark pulled him over to a display platform.  The older man shoved the pile of folded shirts onto the floor with a sweep of his beefy arm and motioned for Dylan to climb up.  

“Uh-uh, not like that,” he said as Dylan climbed up, facing away from him.  “Like this.”  Dylan let himself be manhandled onto his back, his inflated thighs hefted into the air.  “I wanna see you.”  

Dylan’s stomach fluttered despite himself.  Not only had Mark gone down on him first, the older man wanted to see his face, not just his ass, while they fucked.  The young man nodded, ignoring the odd sensation of his tiny cock poking against his stomach while Mark slowly worked himself inside.  They locked eyes, both of them blushing bashfully even as Mark started pumping in and out.  The burly man gradually built up speed until Dylan’s sculpted pecs were bouncing almost as much as his jiggling, rippling cheeks.  

Hearing his moans ringing around the empty store, the old Dylan surfaced just long enough to take in what was happening.  He was flat on his back in the middle of the place he hated working, eagerly taking Mark’s oozing cock, the third one he’d had inside himself in less than 24 hours.  Three people in one day was a record, even for him.  The thought that he’d set such a new personal best while bottoming for strange men as his body changed in horrifying ways made him want to scream.   He thought back on the past two days, on his helpless flirting and bimbo-like behavior, and knew in his gut that he was looking at his future.  He was already getting a reputation.  He’d gone from being known as a ladies man to an easy bottom almost overnight.  

Worse was that he loved it.  Dylan was having to tell himself to fight against what was happening because deep down, he didn’t want to.  His bubbly new persona was taking over everything, drowning out more of the formerly straight jock with each passing moment.  He knew it was only a matter of time before even that shred of awareness was gone.  Before long his old life would be nothing but a distant memory, replaced by a ditzy, micro-dicked power bottom.  He still had no idea what was happening to cause all of this, but the real horror was that soon he wasn’t sure he’d even know anything HAD happened.  This would all just be normal.  

“Ffffuuuck…” Mark hissed, snapping Dylan’s attention away from his altered future and back to the present.  “I’m gonna cuuuuhhhhnnnn…”

As Mark filled his insides, Dylan finally noticed the small puddle on his abs from where his tiny balls had already shot their own meager load.  It was nothing like what it should have been, but the wave of pleasure that washed over him as his friend unloaded more than made up for it.  The desperate lust in their locked eyes pushed the old Dylan back under, leaving the addled stud in his place to softly stroke Mark’s sweaty, hairy chest.  

“Not bad for an old guy, eh?” Mark reluctantly pulled his softening hose free, still gazing down at Dylan’s naked, glistening frame.  

“I’m, like, soooooooo totally glad I work here,” Dylan sighed, raising his powerful arms and stretching his sculpted torso as he sat up.  Thinking about all the rugged and athletic men who came in to the store, and the untapped pool of studs in the rest of the mall, the altered young jock realized, for the first time, that he meant it.