Interactive: Mall Days (full text) (Patreon)

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Chapter 1

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“Have a good day, sir.”  

Dylan’s forced smile appeared effortless, a trick the young man had perfected during the seemingly endless hours spent slaving away at Gregor’s Sporting Goods.  The older man he’d just rung out had given him the creeps, but you’d never know that just by looking.  He’d obviously been flirting with him, and Dylan caught the other man’s eyes drifting down towards the front of his pants more than once.  He’d been tempted to call him out, but he knew it wasn’t worth the effort.  He didn’t mind the attention, so long as it came from women.  

It was just one more annoyance that came with the job.  If Dylan had his way, he’d be outside using the equipment instead of hawking it indoors all day.  It was torture to stand in the front of the store, under the hum of the fluorescent lights and chill of the air conditioner, watching the bright, summer days pass by just on the other side of the glass.  Dylan longed for the simpler times of his childhood when he could spend his days running around with his buddies, exploring the local woods or swimming in the river or camping out under the expansive, star-peppered sky.  

But college wasn’t going to pay for itself, something he was well aware of having just completed his freshman year.  Even in a midwestern nowhere town like his, an education didn’t come cheap.  If that meant he spent his days holed up selling sports equipment to little leaguers and workout gear to their overweight parents, so be it.  He was determined not to end up as one of the mindless locals he saw wandering the mall like zombies.  It started with the old folks in the morning, doing laps around the massive temple of retail instead of going to a gym.  Then came the stay-at-home moms with their strollers and screaming children, before the inevitable flood of teenagers in the evening.  

It was hard for Dylan not to judge them.  Even though he was still technically a teenager himself for another year, he’d never shared the same interests as his peers.  He wasn’t one for parties or hanging out at the mall.  He liked to spend his time outside, playing whatever sports he could get his hands on.  It didn’t matter what it was, so long as he was active and using his body he was happy.

And it showed.  With youth still on his side, Dylan’s athletic, six-foot frame was covered in lean, defined muscle.  His shoulders were broad, his waist was small, and he had a round, perky rear that, despite his relative modesty, he liked to show off in his fitted khakis.  He wasn’t arrogant, but he also wasn’t above flirting or subtly flexing his pecs against his tight polo to make a sale.  His boy-next-door face, with its bright blue eyes, dimpled smile and shaggy brown hair, usually sealed the deal if his tight body alone wasn’t enough.  

Coupled with his relatively unassuming personality, Dylan turned heads all over the mall.  He was a rarity; a handsome, quiet jock with none of the testosterone fueled antics that were so off putting.  He was a catch, but due to his work and school schedule he’d never had time for a steady girlfriend.  Still, he was a horny nineteen year old, so that didn’t stop him from sleeping his way up one concourse and down the other.  He wasn’t the kind of guy to intentionally leave a trail of heartbreak in his wake, it was just that, as with sports, he liked using his body.  And, as many of the ladies who worked in the mall found out, he had plenty of it to use.  He did his best to prevent hard feelings, but Dylan knew there were more than a few women in town who’d like to see him taken down a peg.  

“Hey man, I’m takin’ my fifteen,” Dylan called over to the older man at the other register when he’d finished ringing up the creepy man.  Mark was a stocky, former meathead only in his early thirties, but as far as Dylan was concerned that qualified as elderly.  

The burly man winked, his round, full face split by a broad smile.  “She better be older than that!”  

Dylan sighed and shook his head.  “You never get tired of that joke, do you?”  

Mark shrugged, running a hand over his buzzed scalp and flexing a bowling ball sized bicep in the process.  “I’m an old man….I gotta live vicariously through you young studs.”  

“Remember, YOU called yourself an old man this time.”  Dylan laughed and smiled on his way out, but internally he dreaded the thought of winding up like Mark; a burnt out jock on his way to middle age still working at the mall.  But that wouldn’t be him, he told himself.  He had a plan to escape.  He was going to school and working on his career.  This was just a temporary arrangement, a necessary step.  He wondered if Mark told himself the same thing when he was his age.  

Dylan pushed the melancholy thoughts from his mind and set a timer on his phone.  He only had fifteen minutes of freedom and he didn’t want to waste them being depressed when they could be much better spent flirting with the cute blonde barista at the other end of the mall.  He gave himself a once over in a store window, puffing out his prominent chest and giving his perky cheeks a quick flex before making his way down the crowded line of stores.  They hadn’t hooked up yet, and he hoped to change that.  

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Chapter 2

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Tess watched Dylan approach the small coffee stand with the patient, hungry eyes of a cat waiting to pounce on its prey.  Like most of the women who worked in the mall, she’d initially been sucked in by the athletic stud’s tight body, chocolate brown hair and boy-next-door face.  It also hadn’t helped that unlike most of her customers he was always polite and friendly, but before Tess could make a move she’d been warned off by Jill.  Then Sarah.  Then Tamika.  Then Laura.  

They all had the same story: Dylan was a “nice guy” with a body that was as impressive as it looked, but the story always ended the same.  As soon as he hit it, he was equally quick to quit it.  To his credit, Dylan wasn’t one of those guys who then badmouthed his hookups or bragged about how many women he’d been with, but something about the jock’s attitude rubbed Tess the wrong way.  She started to see through his friendly veneer and recognize his behavior for what it was.  Once she really started paying attention she noticed that he didn’t seem to have any female friends to speak of.  The only way he knew how to relate to women, or how to view them in general, was as a potential conquest.  He wasn’t simply being nice because it was his nature, it was a means to an end.  

Or so Tess assumed.  She’d never had an in-depth conversation with the handsome young man before, but after learning of his history she had no desire to.  She’d been burned by guys like Dylan before.  She wasn’t going to let it happen again.  More than that, she was ready to make sure it didn’t happen to any woman again.  

It was a long game, waiting for the all the pieces to land in place.  Not only did she have to gather all the proper ingredients, she needed to wait for the proper celestial set up.  If the moon was out of phase, or if the stars weren’t aligned just so, it could be disastrous.  Tampering with the forces she parlayed with was not to be taken lightly.  

Now, it looked like her patience had paid off.  She’d conducted the ritual the night before, grinding the ingredients down to an undetectable powder, and the heavenly bodies were all in the right positions.  There was only a brief window.  If she didn’t cross paths with the young man soon she’d have to start all over or take it as a sign that she wasn’t supposed to go down such a road.  

Tess was prepared for either outcome, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a satisfied thrill at the sight of Dylan’s approach.  Fate had spoken in her favor, it seemed.  

“Hey Tess,” Dylan waved as he approached the counter, giving his solid arm a subtle flex in the process, a charming grin on his face.  “How’s it goin’?”  

Tess’s smile was as warm and friendly as ever.  “I mean, it’s a gorgeous day out and we’re working in the mall, so….” 

“Exactly,” Dylan said with an exaggerated sigh.  He rolled his shoulders and stood so that the large pecs accentuated by his polo were thrust forward.  “You much of an outdoors person?”  

She nodded, looking Dylan up and down as she ran a thin hand through her short blonde hair.  His growing smile told her he thought she was flirting when really she was just committing his appearance to memory.  It was a mental “before” picture that she could later compare to the looming “after,” whatever that turned out to be.  “Sure am.  My folks always took us camping growing up.  Hiking, kayaking, tubing...you name it.  They were a bit hippy.  You want your usual?”  

Dylan laughed and nodded.  “I wish my folks did that.  Their idea of an outdoor activity is watering the plants or standing by the grill.” 

Tess kept Dylan talking so that he wouldn’t notice when she slipped the small packet of powder into his drink.  Even she didn’t know exactly what it was going to do.  It was supposed to flip his internal wiring, making him attractive, and attracted to, other men, regardless of whether they were straight or not.  Beyond that, she had no idea.  These kinds of magic could be capricious at best.  If nothing else, she was confident the changes would be dramatic.

“Here you go,” she said, handing the drink over.  When Dylan immediately took a nervous sip she fought back a triumphant smile.  

“Oh man, this is better than usual,” he said, looking down at the iced coffee.  

“Guess I’ve got the touch,” Tess shrugged.  

There was an awkward pause before Dylan responded.  “Hey, so I was wondering if you wanted to…” He trailed off, losing his train of thought mid-sentence.  

Tess leaned forward on the counter, raising an eyebrow.  “Wanted to….?”  

Dylan blushed and gave his head a quick shake.  “Whoa...sorry...totally spaced out there for a second.  Guess I need this more than I thought.”  He quickly raised the cup, taking another sip.  

“You were asking me a question?”  

“I was?”  Dylan blinked, searching his memory for what they’d just been talking about but coming up empty.  “Huh.  Guess it wasn’t that important.”  He was interrupted by a sudden beeping from his pocket.  “Ugh…” he groaned.  “Time to head back.  Thanks for the coffee!”  

Tess finally let her smug grin show as Dylan walked away, watching the fit young man’s tight, perky rear fade into the distance.  “Would’ve been fun,” she sighed to herself.  

Dylan knocked his coffee back in a few long gulps on the way, surprised by how good it was.  He hadn’t just been polite when he told Tess it tasted better than usual.  There was a smooth sweetness that the bitter brew usually lacked and he could already feel the rush hitting his system.  He clearly needed it.  Standing there talking to Tess, he felt like he was forgetting something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what, exactly.  He told himself the same thing he told her; it must not have been that important.  

He tossed the empty cup in the trash and gave his phone another look, dreading the remaining hours of his shift.  “Hope this goes quick,” he muttered.   

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Chapter 3

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Dylan was surprised by the sudden shift in his mood when he returned to the store.  Instead of dreading the next four hours, the increasingly cheerful young man felt a giddy excitement, like he did right before hitting the field for a big game.  He chalked it up to the caffeine coursing through his veins as he strolled lightly through the doors.  

“Someone seems like they’re in a better mood,” Mark laughed, his broad frame leaning against the register, his burly arms flexed across his chest.  “That was a quick one, even for you.”  

Dylan shrugged, a smirk forming in place of his usually annoyed expression.  He looked his coworker up and down slowly, his eyes lingering on the protruding lumps formed by Mark’s meaty chest pressing against his polo.  “Maybe I’m just happy to spend time with you.”  

The big man let out a loud laugh and shook his head.  “Ohhhh, no.  Sorry, pal.  Just ‘cause you finally ran outta women in this mall doesn’t mean you’re gonna get any of this.”  

“Maybe I was going to give YOU some of THIS,” Dylan said coyly as he turned away and flexed his perky rear.  He was glad that Mark couldn’t see the confused look on his face.  He had no idea why he’d said or done any of that.  He’d intended to tell the other man to shut up, or make a joke about Mark being old and jealous, not do whatever that just was.  “I’m going to work the floor for a bit,” he called over his shoulder, catching himself as he added a purposeful bounce to his step.  

He was still puzzling it over while he sought out his first customer.  Normally Dylan hovered to the side and let the shoppers come to him.  It was less work that way.  If they had a question or needed help they could ask, otherwise it was one less thing for him to do.  Now, without fully knowing why, as soon as he saw the man idly browsing the racks of summer clothing he headed straight for him.  

“Can I help you with anything?”  Dylan flashed his boyishly charming smile as he approached, looking the other man up and down the way he just had with Mark.  He appeared older, at least middle-aged, with a beefy, sturdy build and thinning, salt-and-pepper hair on top of his square face.  His faded red t-shirt hung loose over a brawny torso, but Dylan could see the outlines of a solid chest lurking underneath, and the man had a set of powerful, hairy arms sticking out through the sleeves.  His lower half seemed just as thick, with a wide, round ass and meaty thighs filling out his cargo shorts.  

“Just browsing,” the man said, flipping through a rack of button up shirts.  “I’ve got a fishing trip coming up and the wife wants me to look good.”  

Dylan felt his smile spread.  “Well THAT won’t be hard,” he chirped, his stomach dropping as soon as he heard the words.  He’d said it before he even realized he was speaking.  The man smiled awkwardly, further confounding Dylan as the embarrassed young man started to regard the stranger as handsome.  Hoping to deflect the attention from what he’d just said, he pulled one of the button down shirts off the rack and held it up.  “This material is made to keep you cool if you’re going to be out on a boat in the sun all day.  But the best part is the way it hangs...it’ll make your chest look GREAT.”  

This time it was the man’s turn to slowly look Dylan up and down.  He seemed genuinely surprised, and a little uncomfortable, by the athletic young man’s behavior.  “I, uh, don’t really know if that’s a priority,” he said flatly.  

“Please!  You’ve clearly got it,” he nodded towards the man’s chest, “you should flaunt it.  Your wife’ll love it!  Better yet, have you thought about one of these?”  Dylan felt like he was locked in the backseat of a runaway vehicle as he turned towards another rack.  He could hear himself talking and feel himself moving, but he didn’t have any control, like another driver was behind the wheel.  He eagerly pulled out a bright red tank-top and held it up.  “With arms like those,” he said, mortified as he reached out and actually touched the other man’s girder-like biceps, “it’s a cuh-rime to keep them covered.”  Dylan cringed at the way he’d drawn out the word “crime” just as much as he did the toss of his head as he said it.    

“That might be a little, uh, much for me.”  It was clear the older man didn’t want to be rude, but he had no idea how to respond to Dylan’s obvious flirting.  “One of these should do just fine,” he said, taking a button down and quickly walking away.  

Dylan’s heart raced as he stood rooted in place, feeling utterly humiliated.  It wasn’t until the man left that he realized how desperate he’d been to see him in the tank-top.  He’d actually been picturing it, the mental image of the beefy older man’s bare, hairy arms causing his cock to throb.  His mouth watered as he imagined the patch of furry chest hanging exposed at the top, and the solid gut pushing out the front.  “What the fuck is with me today…” he muttered under his breath, trying to shake the fog from his head.  He’d never flirted with women customers like that before, let alone other men.  

Mark’s booming voice interrupted his frantic thoughts.  “Yo, Dylan, a customer needs help over in shoes.”  

The embarrassed hunk’s heart sank when he made his way over and saw a tall young man that looked to be about his age waiting for him.  He was clad in a tight yellow t-shirt that showed off a lean, toned build and a pair of loose, black basketball shorts that bubbled out around a solid little rear.  The man’s buzzed blonde hair showed off his sharp features and Dylan felt his stomach start to flutter at the same time his feet quickened their pace.  “Did you need help with something,” he asked, standing a bit too close.  

The man took an instinctual step back and held up a pair of bright running shoes.  “Did you have these in a size 13?” 

“Oohhh, a big one,” Dylan purred, his hand brushing against the other man’s as he took the shoe and gave a slow look up and down.  “We should.  Have a seat and I’ll be right back.” 

Dylan wondered if he was dreaming as he made his way to the back room.  Things were becoming more and more surreal with each passing moment.  Flirting with an old man had been bad enough, but throwing himself at a guy his own age?  Someone who was a peer?  That was confusing and humiliating on another level entirely.  As soon as the lean young man said his shoe size, Dylan’s gaze had dropped to his shorts, seeking out the bulging lump he usually tried to ignore.  He couldn’t stop thinking about it.  The blonde’s tight shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination, and Dylan pictured his hands running across the shredded torso underneath while they sought out the man’s undoubtedly long, dangling hose.  

“Fuck...what am I thinking about that for?!”  Dylan stopped in his tracks and shook his head again, trying to force the unwanted thoughts from his brain.  He had to take a moment regardless, so that his own solid pole could calm down.  The thick organ was hard and straining against his khakis, clearly outlined beneath the fitted fabric.  He liked his pants tight because they showed off his perky bubble, but he never thought he’d have to worry about hiding an erection from a customer, especially a male one.  He managed to get himself under control and find the shoes in question, though one look at the seated blonde’s long legs made him wonder how long things would stay that way.  

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Dylan said, dropping to his knees when the other man started to stand.  He slowly untied the laces, his fingers tingling as they felt the worn material of the old sneakers.  “Are you a runner?  You’ve got the legs for it,” he muttered suggestively, obviously staring at the tight, muscular thighs inches from his face.  Dylan didn’t want to believe that he was trying to sneak a peek up the other man’s shorts, but the thrill he felt upon seeing the elastic bottoms of the blonde’s boxer briefs wouldn’t let him deny it.  Forcing his eyes away, he let his hand drift down the other man’s solid calf as he gripped the back of his ankle and pulled the old shoe off, taking a deep inhale of the sweaty scent wafting free.  Looking at the long, narrow foot, his tone was impressed.  “These ARE big.”  

“Uh...thanks, I guess?” the man said with a short laugh.  Dylan wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole when he looked up and saw the blonde’s confused, smug grin.  He could only imagine how he looked, his buff frame on it’s knees while he hungrily fawned over another guy’s foot.  He slid the long, narrow extremity in and laced the shoe up, sitting back on his legs as the other man stood, the bulge he’d been so intently looking for passing inches from his face.  

“How do they feel,” Dylan asked from his kneeling position while the other man took a few tentative steps.  

“Good,” the toned blonde said absently, giving the shoe a look in the mirror while Dylan’s eyes were fixed on the solid bubble that supported the bottom of his tight shirt.  “I’ll take ‘em.”  

“Good!  They look great….functional AND cute.”  Dylan was chipper as the man sat and he reached to take the shoe back off.  

The foot was pulled away before he could reach.  “I can manage.  No offense, man, but I don’t swing that way.  No judgment….just not my thing,” the blonde said with a shrug friendly smile.    

The words hit Dylan like a punch to the gut, made all the worse by his inability to figure out the source of his disappointment.  He didn’t know if he was more upset at being taken for a gay guy, or that his sudden fantasies about the tall, lean stud in front of him would never be realized.  “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” he winked, screaming at himself internally the whole time.  

Things only got worse.  As the afternoon progressed into evening Dylan threw himself at any guy who walked through the door.  It didn’t even matter what they looked like.  He teased and flirted with overweight dads the same way he did with the jacked bodybuilders and athletic cross-fitters.  Even his body language was changing.  He stood with an arch to his back, jutting his perky rear out and thrusting his impressive chest forward.  He made it a point to flex and bend to show himself off whenever he could, his handsome, athletic features a sharp contrast to the vapid, almost ditzy words leaving his mouth.  He felt like he was going crazy.  Dylan was aware of everything he was doing as he was doing it; he just couldn’t stop.  

And despite his mortifying humiliation, his already impressive libido was running in hyperdrive.  He was painfully horny.  The confusing new behaviors weren’t just for show; for some reason he’d actually been attracted to all of the men he’d flirted with.  He didn’t know how or why, but by the end of the day he had more naked men of all shapes and sizes running through his head than he’d ever thought possible.  It was all he could think about.  It was all he WANTED to think about.  Even as he locked the parking lot doors and met his brawny coworker in the middle of the store he was undressing Mark’s thick, powerful body in his head.  

“Dude, what the fuck was that?” the older man asked after closing the gates on the mall entrance.  “I know this job can get boring but you can’t just fuck with customers.  A couple of those guys actually complained.”  

He wanted to tell Mark that he couldn’t help it, that he didn’t know why he was doing it either.  Instead, his face was a mask of innocence as he ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair, the large, flexing bicep looking out of place next to the jutted-hip stance he adopted.  “What are you even talking about?”  

The big man’s eyes narrowed angrily before softening.  “Look, all I’m sayin’ is this isn’t like you.  Everything alright?  Things not go well with what’s-her-name?”  

“Everything’s fine,” Dylan shrugged.  “I don’t know what people would get upset about.”  

Mark searched the young man’s face for any sign that Dylan was merely messing with him but came up empty handed.  His initial anger was fading, something in his gut telling him there was more to this than a simple joke.  Even on a bad day, the well-mannered young jock wouldn’t act like this just to piss people off.  Maybe he was trying to tell him something?  It’s not like Dylan would be the first ladies man he’d ever met who later came out of the closet.  It wasn’t the fact that his coworker was flirting with guys that bothered him, it was the sudden shift, how this behavior came out of nowhere, that was throwing him off.  “Nevermind,” Mark sighed.  “Let’s just get this inventory put away so we can get the hell outta here.”  

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Chapter 4

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Dylan felt like a man possessed. He'd been flirting with Mark the entire time they’d been closing up shop. He couldn't take his eyes off his beefy co-worker.  He teased and toyed with him, standing closer than he should, finding excuses to brush up against him, and constantly commenting on the older man’s brawny build.  Dylan's eyes were alternately glued to his friends plump backside and protruding pecs in equal measure, something that Mark was confusingly aware of.  

The bigger man didn’t seem to know how to process the sudden shift in his younger friend’s attitude.  At first he’d thought Dylan was just joking around, but after an hour of non-stop chirping from the young jock he knew it was more than that.  They usually talked sports or annoying customers as they shut down for the night, but when Dylan wasn’t going on about how buff and handsome Mark was, he was commenting on how cute the clothes were, or how good they’d look on each of them.  Instead of sounding like the intelligent young man that Mark knew he was, Dylan sounded increasingly like the vapid teenage girls he saw milling around the mall in herds.  

Even the younger man’s body language was different.  After years of playing whatever sports he could get his hands on, the young athlete’s coordination was impeccable.  Mark was used to watching Dylan move around the store with whipcord precision, standing with a tall, straight spine and broad shoulders.  Watching him now, Mark felt like he was looking at a stranger.  Dylan’s step had an extra, swaying bounce to it, and when he stood he drew his shoulders back.  This emphasized the round, sculpted pecs bulging against his polo, but it also added an arch to his posture that seemed out of place, softening the edges of his otherwise granite frame.  

It was the same whenever he picked up a piece of equipment.  Instead looking like an extension of his arm, Dylan looked like he was holding a live snake instead of a baseball bat.  He fumbled and dropped footballs as if his wide hands had never gripped one before, giggling and bending slowly to show off his perky bubble in front of Mark as he picked them up.  

There were times when it seemed like his young friend wanted to say something.  He’d catch a slight crack in Dylan’s dim smile and wait for the other man to finally explain what was going on, but the answers never came, only more of the same confounding behavior.  But even if Dylan had been able to explain what was going on with him, that only would have addressed part of Mark’s question.  The question of why he was suddenly so interest in the young hunk was up to him.  

The older man tried to pass off his staring as simply an attempt to understand what was going on, but when Dylan did a slow bend to pick something up and wagged his firm rear in front of him, Mark couldn’t deny the throbbing he felt in his fat cock.  His heart really DID start beating faster as his eyes traced down the strange new arch of Dylan’s spine, coming to rest on the other man’s crotch, or when they lingered on his young friend’s handsome, boyish face.   

“That’s good enough for now,” Mark finally said, shaking his head when he’d caught himself staring at Dylan’s ass yet again.  “Morning crew can worry about the rest.”  

“Awww, I was having fun,” Dylan pouted, sticking his lower lip out.  “I still think I could have convinced you to try on those little running shorts for me.”  

Mark blinked rapidly, rubbed his face with both rough hands, and gave an exasperated sigh.  “Dude, seriously, I dunno what’s going on in your head right now, but you’ve gotta figure your shit out.  For real, man, if there’s something you need to tell me, you can just tell me.  It’s cool.  You know I don’t judge people.”  

Dylan was hit with another wave of embarrassment, this time mingled with genuine affection for his burly friend.  He was humiliated at the implication that Mark thought he was trying to come out to him, but he appreciated that the other man would have been supportive if he had.  He’d been trying all night to tell Mark what was going on, that he couldn’t control any of this.  There were a few times when he’d come close, but just as the words were about to hit his tongue, they fled.  With each failure the attempts became more and more difficult to the point where now it was a struggle to even hold onto the idea in his own brain that this wasn’t his normal behavior.  

“I don’t, like, know why you keep saying that,” Dylan sighed back.  “I’m just being me,” he chirped, planting one hand on his trim hips and giving his shaggy brown hair a toss with the other.  

Mark had a thousand questions he wanted to ask.  “If you say so,” was all he said, deciding not to push it.  They worked together again tomorrow, so he had time.  

“I’ll get the gate,” Dylan said as they made their way outside into the empty parking lot.  The lone streetlight at their end of the mall had been burnt out for months, leaving the patch of asphalt dimly lit under the waning moon above.  With the wavering heat distortion still rising from ground that had baked in the sun all day, it gave the setting an eerie, otherworldly feel, only adding to the young jock’s surreal afternoon.  

He waved Mark off and pulled the metal security gate down, the echoing clang shattering the quiet, alien landscape of the moonlit parking lot.  

“Uh, hey man…” His ears still ringing from the slamming gate, Dylan jumped at the unexpected voice and turned to find a tall, familiar blonde standing awkwardly behind him.  

“Oh, hi!” From the outside, Dylan’s cheerful, beaming face betrayed none of the frantic thoughts running through his brain.  He remembered the lean blonde calling him out while trying on his shoes earlier and wondered if he’d come back for a fight.  Under other circumstances Dylan wouldn’t have questioned his ability to handle himself if things got violent, but given how his day was going he wasn’t confident.  He looked the other man slowly up and down, seeing the same tight t-shirt that showed off his wiry build, and the same black basketball shorts he’d so desperately tried to look up.  “See?  I told you those shoes were cute,” Dylan winked, nodding down at the other man’s new sneakers.  

“Uh, yeah, they look good,” the tall blonde mumbled, returning Dylan’s sweeping gaze.  There was a pregnant pause as he fell silent, his eyes locked on the shorter man’s solid chest.  

Dylan was coy, letting himself be checked out, subtly flexing his thick pecs and solid arms as he turned slightly to the side to give a view of his appealing rear.  “Did you need help with something else?”  

The man’s sharp face gradually turned deeper shades of red.  He shifted his weight from foot to foot and seemed to be searching for the right words.  “I just wondered what...I mean...did I do something that made you think I was…”  he stammered.  “Because I’m not!” he added quickly, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him.  

“Hey, I’m not either,” Dylan shrugged, not sure if he even believed it himself.  

The blonde looked him up and down again and laughed.  “Uh-huh.  Sure you’re not.  Straight dudes try and look up my shorts all the time.”  

Dylan’s smile was mischievous.  “You can’t blame a boy for trying to enjoy the view.”  

“See?  That’s exactly what I’m…” the man trailed off when Dylan stepped forward and put a hand on his arm.  He didn’t pull it away.  

“Do you want to go talk about this somewhere else?”  Dylan’s eyes dropped pointedly to the twitching lump in the blonde’s shorts.  “Or are we going to stand out here all night?”   

The taller man swallowed hard and pointed over his shoulder to an old pickup truck.  Without saying anything else, Dylan pulled on his toned arm and started walking towards it, his heart racing from a mix of fear and eager anticipation.  The scenario had the young stud feeling more like himself, except for the fact that he was putting the moves on another man.  He had no idea why the wiry blonde seemed so confused about what was happening, but at the moment he didn’t really care.  

“I’m Evan, by the way,” the blonde said as they climbed up into the cab and the truck rumbled to life.  

“Nice to meet you Evan,” Dylan said with mock formality, putting a hand on the other man’s thigh.  “I’m Dylan.  So where we headed?”  

“I know a spot out by the river that’s real pretty this time of niiiiiiiight…” Evan yelped when Dylan’s hand slid from his thigh to brush against the long, hardening cock buried in the baggy shorts.  

“Sounds good to me,” Dylan purred, toying with Evan’s solid cock through the shiny fabric.  From what he could see and feel so far, the throbbing organ seemed every bit as long as the tall blonde himself.  His mouth watered at the large outline against the fabric as he bounced and stroked Evan, the tall man’s breath coming fast and heavy while he pressed harder on the accelerator.  “Eyes on the road, handsome,” Dylan laughed when he kept catching Evan looking at him out of the corner of his eye.  When one of the blonde’s hands finally left the wheel and reached over, he guided it to his own meatier thigh, leaving his hand on top of the other as he pulled it towards his own impressive bulge.  Evan had a shell shocked look on his face, seemingly as confused and out of control as the giddy muscle man next to him.  When they hit a rough dirt road, he reluctantly pulled his hand away only when it was absolutely necessary.  

“Here...here we are…” he said, red-faced, as he backed the truck into position.  

Looking out through the clearing of trees at the lazily winding river below them, Dylan couldn’t help but think of all the times he’d brought a girl out to a remote spot just like this one.  The warm night air, the starry sky, and the rhythmically chirping crickets all combined into a perfect, natural aphrodisiac.  Even knowing that, Dylan was surprised to feel the effects working on him.  “Wow,” he gasped, looking up at the star-peppered sky, “you weren’t kidding.”  

“Right?”  Evan grabbed a bundle from behind the front seat and quickly spread out a layer of thick blanket in the bed of the truck.  “After you,” he said, motioning for Dylan to climb up.  

The shorter man made a show of struggling, giving Evan the opportunity to plant a hand on his solid rear and push.  “Thanks,” he sighed, peeling out of his tight polo before settling down onto the blanket.  Guy or not, Dylan felt the same rush of pride at the lustful look in Evan’s eyes while the lean man stared at his bare, chiseled pecs and washboard abs.  “You gonna stare all night or are you gonna join me,” he laughed, patting the blanket next to him.  

Evan practically leapt into the spot, shucking his own shirt in the process and letting Dylan get a look at the lean, shredded muscles underneath.  He wasn’t as built, but his long torso was a roadmap of defined muscle, all leading down to the large tent in his shorts.  

Dylan didn’t waste any time.  He rolled over and draped himself on top of Evan’s lanky frame, mashing their lips together while his hand slid down the other man’s smooth, trim sides.  He felt Evan tense for a moment before relaxing, instinct taking over as he wrapped his long arms around Dylan’s broad back.  Huge hands that were used to clutching basketballs drifted down to palm the shorter stud’s perky cheeks instead, his long fingers kneading them through Dylan’s khakis.  

Neither of them spoke.  They didn’t have to.  When Dylan’s hand slid underneath Evan’s basketball shorts and into his boxers, the taller man raised himself up enough to let the burdensome clothes be stripped free.  And when Evan’s desperate fingers fumbled with Dylan’s tight pants, the buff young man tore them open, giggling excitedly when they were pulled down with his boxer briefs and his thick, long rod sprang free.  Both of them naked, there was a pause as they stared hungrily at each other, Dylan’s muscular, athletic frame seeming bulky next to Evan’s long, lean build.  They’d both been around plenty of naked men in locker rooms over the years, but it was the first time the sight of one made them feel like this.  Evan’s long, dangling hose throbbed impressively in Dylan’s direction, while the other man’s oozing pole stood proudly up between his hairy, muscled thighs.   

To an outsider, their inexperience wouldn’t have been obvious.  When Dylan rolled over on top of Evan and swallowed the other man, he did so with the graceful ease of someone who looked like they knew exactly what they were doing.  The steady bobbing of his head on the lengthy shaft grew deeper and deeper as he swallowed nearly all of the other man.  The small part of Dylan that wasn’t completely overcome with lust was surprised at how easily the firm, musky rod slid in and out of his throat without difficulty.  He was struck again with the memories of how many times it had been him on his back, with some random girl’s face bobbing up and down on his eager cock, the surge of fear only adding to his lust.  He pictured what it would look like if someone stumbled on them, his broad, powerful back, bare and flexing, his exposed skin glowing in the moonlight while Evan’s fingers danced through the chocolate mop on his head.  

The thought made him groan.  He pulled his mouth away and gave the gasping blonde a pleading look, and at Evan’s nod, shifted off to let the other man get up without fully knowing why.  His brain was slowly piecing it together even as he positioned himself on all fours and felt Evan’s hands spreading his solid globes.  Before the terrified protests in his brain could reach his lips, the other man was inside.  

Dylan grunted and hissed at the blessedly brief stab of pain that shot up his spine.  The cock that had felt so natural against his tongue now felt like it was splitting his virgin hole in two.  He gasped and clutched at the thick blanket, bunching it around his tensed fingers as Evan fell into rhythm.  The loud creaking of the truck’s rusty struts masked Dylan’s quiet whimpers and the sound of his unused cock slapping up against his ripped stomach.  Those whimpers grew louder and louder as the pain fled, replaced by an overwhelming pleasure that the grunting stud  never experienced before.  The slapping of his oozing cock was joined by the sound of Evan’s stomach impacting against his round cheeks when the taller man picked up the pace, slamming harder and deeper into Dylan’s athletic rear.  The kneeling jock felt his plump pecs shaking up and down in time with the pounding, his whimpers turning to moans.  

“ooohhhhhwwwWWHOOAAAooohhh,” Dylan cried, his voice rising and falling in time with the tides of ecstasy surging through him.  

“You...like...that…” Evan hissed, slowing down to long, deep thrusts before picking back up his jackrabbit pace.  “Fast...or slow…?” 

“Fast,” Dylan moaned, lowering his torso and forcefully shoving his impaled rear backwards.  “Come on….fuckin’....give it to me…” he begged, looking back over his shoulder as though daring the lean man to try harder.  He felt Evan’s fingers tighten on his hips as the onslaught started.  “FFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuck,” Dylan purred blissfully as every one of his ample young muscles shook from the beating his ass was taking.  “Fuuuck...yesssss...yeeeuuuuhh….yes...yes...yes…” 

Hearing his own ecstatic cries, Dylan knew he’d come full circle.  He’d gone from flirting, to pawing, to blowing, to now getting fucked by a man in the back of a truck.  He’d done it all plenty of times before, but always from Evan’s perspective, never from that of the person getting plowed.  He thought about how this should be him and Tess, about how the buxom blonde should have been the one moaning and groaning at the end of someone’s dick.  The irony that he was currently grunting like a beast while a handsome blonde fucked HIS brains out wasn’t lost on him.  

He just didn’t care.  All he cared about was the mounting pressure and the unbelievable sensations shooting through him.  “OOOHHHHHHHHuuunnnngggg!”   With a guttural bellow his untouched cock exploded, spraying so forcefully against the blanket that sticky drops splashed up into the prickly hairs on his sweaty, bouncing pecs.  He’d never cum so hard in his life.  

The same went for Evan, who gave one last, deep thrust all the way to the base of his stomach before he spasmed and emptied his churning balls into Dylan’s gut.  His surprisingly strong hands held the buff jock in place as he sprayed and sprayed, not letting go until he was empty and soft inside the other man.  

“Wh...whoa…” the tall blonde panted when he pulled out and fell forward.  He rolled onto his back and reached over to let Dylan’s solid body nestle against him.  

Cuddling against his new friend, the addled stud wasn’t sure at first if the stars he saw were real or a result of the pounding he’d just taken.  He could feel the other man’s fluid running out of his punished hole as his girthy cock flopped over onto Evan’s thigh.  “You were aahhh-mazing,” he giggled, running a finger along Evan’s toned pecs.  Any vestiges of his old self that surfaced during sex were quickly being replaced by the ditzy haze from earlier.  “Glad you took me up on my offer after all?”  

“I don’t know what the fuck we just did,” Evan said, his stunned eyes wide as he tried to catch his breath, “but I’m real glad we did it.”  

*************

Chapter 5

*************

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.   

*************

Chapter 6

*************

“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.