Wrong Number: Open Wide (Patreon)

“Getting frustrated?”  

Mike growled at the message lighting up his screen as he continued to tug away on his thick, limp hose.  The broad wall of muscle still felt little darts of pleasure with each stroke, but he hadn’t been able to get hard since the strange messages started coming in several days ago.  For someone who was used to getting laid daily, sometimes more than once, it felt like a lifetime since he’d seen his eight inch rod in its full glory.  

He’d tried everything.  He’d even embarrassed himself with Natalie in a particularly desperate attempt, begging her to try everything she could.  Normally she could get him off like no one else, but his lifeless member refused to even twitch.  She told him to go to the doctor, but Mike knew that wouldn’t make a difference.  Somehow, whoever was sending him the threatening messages was causing all this.  

It left the towering hunk feeling impotent on multiple levels.  At 6’3” and two hundred and sixty five pounds of shredded muscle, Mike was used to getting his way.  He had biceps the size of most guys’ heads and sharp, wolfish features accentuated by his buzzed brown hair that could go from handsome and charming to intimidating in a flash.  When it came to pushing people around, Mike didn’t hesitate to use any of those features.  If charm didn’t work, physical intimidation would.  He’d smile and flirt, then growl and threaten if that didn’t do the job.  The twenty six year old bodybuilder had a reputation around the local gyms as being someone to keep on your good side, and around the local bedrooms as being one of the best lays in town.  

With his long, thick hose and plump, heavy balls, Mike never had to worry about his tree-trunk thighs making his package look small like some of the other big guys.  And, as he bragged constantly, he knew how to use every one of those wide, eight inches to make women scream with pleasure all over town.  The imposing hunk never tired of boasting about how he could “fuck for hours”, how he always got his women off first, and how he put all the other men in town to shame.  Mike didn’t see his bravado as arrogance.  He was better built, better looking, and better hung.  It was only natural to see himself as better than everyone.  

Mike ignored the messages when they first started coming through.  The granite adonis knew there were plenty of guys in town who’d love to see him taken down a peg, and it was far from the first time someone sent him angry messages.  He didn’t even bother to respond, he just blocked the number and forgot about it until the pictures started arriving.  

Those were new.  Out of all the threatening texts he’d received over the years, none of them had ever featured a string of photoshopped men before.  Mike was confused when the first photo of a naked, beefy man in what looked like a mechanic’s garage came through.  Whoever he was, the man appeared to be around his age with an impressive amount of burly muscle on his hairy frame.  He wasn’t shredded like Mike’s stage-ready physique, but was thick and stocky with a fat, girthy package that the confused stud couldn’t help but compare to his own as he stared at the random photo.  

When the second came through, it took Mike a while to notice the difference.  The carpet of curly black hair across the man’s meaty pecs seemed to thin, and by the third it disappeared completely, showing off the subtle change to the protruding chest.  The thick lumps of muscle looked big and round, like they were inflating, a process that continued with the fourth and fifth pictures until the otherwise masculine stranger was left with a set of gravity-defying tits that even made Mike’s cock twitch.  The man in the photo appeared to be having the same reaction as his wide cock was rock hard and he had a look of ecstasy on his face while he squeezed the supple mounds.  

It was enough to at least get a response.  He’d texted the mysterious messenger back, demanding to know who they were, but only received another string of photos in return.  These were of a handsome, shredded pretty boy who seemed to be modeling the small briefs he had on.  The ripped blonde was covered in lean, striated muscle that flexed as he posed, a sultry expression on his striking face.  Most people would have been impressed by, or envious of, the gorgeous man’s body, but Mike just saw him as small.  That impression gradually became literal with each additional photo, the young model’s body warping and twisting.  Mike actually felt a stab of fear at what appeared to be a genuine look of horror on the blonde’s face as his legs seemed to shrink and widen as his toned arms thickened and stretched towards the ground.  His washboard stomach became distended and lumpy, his perfect, horrified face swallowed by a sloping brow, Dumbo ears and a beakish nose.  By the last message, the brief-clad model looked to be half as tall, his perfect body replaced by a naked, simian physique, complete with an oversized cock that shot out between his stubby new legs.  

Rattled, but refusing to admit it either to himself or the stranger, Mike went back to ignoring the messages.  His suspicions that the culprit was someone who knew him grew when pictures of his own strapping, naked body started coming through.  He’d sent more naked photos of himself than he could possibly remember to women over the years, so that wasn’t a surprise, but coming right after the manipulated pictures he’d just seen left a growing pit in his stomach.  Something about the expressions on the men in the photos seemed genuine, and as much as he told himself it was all fake, he couldn’t get them out of his mind.  

He was still thinking about the photos the next day, when the true torment started.  Mike had gone to workout as he always did, strutting around the floor of the dingy lifter gym like he owned the place.  He didn’t have patience for the mainstream gyms full of lazy suburbanites and kids trying to get laid.  He wanted to be surrounded by men like himself, feeling a true thrill at knowing he was still the best of the best.  

The message came through just as he’d stripped down to shower.  He was talking to Chuck, an older bulldog of a man built like a wrecking ball made of muscle, when he’d caught the glow of his phone out of the corner of his eye. 

“You always brag about how well that thing works,” it read,  why don’t we show them?”

Mike could feel his face going red, his eyes darting around the room as his cock suddenly started twitching.  Two beefy men he recognized but didn’t know were standing under the exposed shower heads at the far side of the room, and he could see Dave and Pete, a pair of budding bodybuilders, chatting in front of their lockers.  It happened before he could even try to cover himself.  In a flash, his cock was rock hard, pointing towards a stunned Chuck’s muscle gut.  The eight inch pole throbbed and pulsed, spraying all over the shorter man, a cracking wail tearing out of Mike as a blindingly intense orgasm rocketed through his towering frame.  

The arrogant jock had never felt so humiliated.  He stammered out an apology and made a faltering attempt at wiping the ropy strands from Chuck’s solid gut, but the stocky man just laughed awkwardly and headed for the showers as everyone else in the room stared in shocked silence at the humiliated adonis.  Mike barely stopped to get dressed, fumbling into his boxer briefs and shorts and pulling on his draping muscle shirt as he hurried out of the locker room.  

That was three days ago, and Mike hadn’t been able to get hard since.  He also hadn’t been able to show his face at the gym, leaving the sculpted stud with nothing but his impotent rage and humiliated frustration.  The messages continued to come in, like now, taunting Mike with pictures of himself at full mast every time he desperately pulled on the limp organ.  A box of panties had even shown up, with a note saying maybe they were “more appropriate.”  

“Hard to fuck for hours like that,” the next message read.  “Unless you decide to take a crack at bottoming.”  

Mike gripped the phone so hard it threatened to break.  “I ever find out who the fuck you are and we’ll do something else for hours,” he snarled, his hands shaking too much to type.  

“You want to get off?  I already told you how.  Put on a pair of those panties and go work out in them.”  

Mike’s wolfish face went purple with rage, his anger finally getting the better of.  “You’d just fuckin’ love that, wouldn’t you?  What kinda freak are you?  One’a those old fucks that hang around the gym all the time starin’ at everyone?  Can’t stand that someone’s better?  I don’t know how you’re doin’ this but you really wanna see me in some panties you can come over here and try to put ‘em on me yourself.”  

Mike’s slab of a chest was heaving when he was done, his tensed, shredded muscles shaking from the adrenaline.  There was just enough of a pause before the next message came through for Mike to feel an arrogant triumph at threatening the stranger.  “I don’t need to come over,” the message read.  

“HHHNNNNGGGgggg….!”  Mike’s body locked as soon as he read it, his ripped frame going tense.  Every one of his sculpted muscles flexed, with veins breaking out and snaking down his bowling ball biceps and up this wide, thick neck.  His broad shoulders shook as he struggled to move but failed in every attempt.  He couldn’t turn or lower his head.  He couldn’t even blink.  All Mike could do was stand frozen in place and gasp as his lifeless cock finally throbbed to life.  The statuesque man whimpered with relief even through his fear at the familiar sensation he’d been longing for.  

At first he thought the intensity was due to how long it had been since he’d last gotten off, but as the lustful waves continued to pound against his granite frame, Mike began to worry.  The throbbing and the pressure were growing stronger with each breath.  Even if he hadn’t been locked in place, Mike was so tense from the pending release that he doubted he could have moved anyway.  It was like nothing he’d ever felt before.  Instead of bobbing in front of him, the aching pulse seemed to be centered within him, shooting straight up his spine to ignite the pleasure centers in his brain like never before.  

Mike was a wailing banshee when he came, loosing a howl that shook the walls around him.  The deep bellow was a roar of pure ecstasy at first, but it became tinged with fear as the hulking stud felt the torrent of fluid running down his sturdy quads.  Like the build up, the release seemed to emanate from within him, not from a spurting, rigid pole.

Though his body was his own again after the potent release, Mike stayed frozen in place.  The hulking giant was paralyzed with shock as he stared down at the leaking gap where his dangling beast should have been.  Instead of a softening cock, the proud ladies man found himself looking at an orifice he was all too familiar with but that was entirely out of place on his strapping frame.    

“Oh...oh fuck…” he groaned, shivering when he was finally able to brush his trembling fingers against his altered slit.  Even when his hands confirmed what his eyes were telling him, Mike didn’t want to believe it.  He felt like he’d been kicked in the gut when he thought back to the photos he’d first received, and the terrified, altered men in each of them.  They’d been real after all.  

Mike’s bravado was gone when his phone rang moments later.  “Pl...please...you can’t leave me like this…” he said before the man on the other end even had a chance to speak.  “I’m sorry!  Just…” 

“What’s wrong,” the stranger interrupted, his voice flat and emotionless, “I thought you were the pussy expert?  You clearly know how to work one of those...what’s the big deal?”  

“Big deal?!  I want my dick back!  Just ‘cause I like pussy doesn’t mean I want one!”  Mike’s pale body flushed with embarrassment as he felt the unfamiliar sensation of walking without his heavy package swaying and bouncing between his legs. 

“You want a dick?  Put the panties on and do what you’re told.”  With that, the stranger hung up.  

Mike’s massive arms flexed as he anxiously ran his hands over his buzzed scalp, trying not to look at himself.  The thought of putting on a pair of panties was bad enough, let alone stripping down in public and letting everyone see what had been done to him.  As someone who usually enjoyed the attention his naked body brought him, Mike wasn’t used to feeling ashamed of his appearance.  

Knowing he didn’t have a choice the strapping bodybuilder grabbed a lavender g-string from the box that had been sent over, his massive body turning a matching shade as he pulled the tiny underwear up past his rocky calves and over his powerful quads before letting it settle in place.  Mike’s brain still struggled to process the sight of the flat, silky panel where his stuffed bulge should have been, while the back disappeared entirely between the large, solid mounds of his rear.  Pulling on a pair of shorts helped, but only barely as the athletic man purposely bought ones that showed off his above average endowment.  Now, the front of his shorts flapped and shifted emptily when he walked, emphasizing what he’d lost instead of what he had.  

He tried to psych himself up on the drive to the gym.  Mike told himself it would be largely empty at this time of night, and once things were done he could always just leave and join a different gym.  As humiliating as the experience would be, he’d never have to see the guys again.  

The thought made him pause.  A strange, tingling throb hit him at the thought of the men he used to lord himself over.  Instead of smug superiority Mike was hit with a confusingly familiar feeling, one that was usually reserved for whatever lucky woman he was about to plunge inside of.  Images of the guys poured in, memories of their sweaty, naked bodies sauntering through the locker room nearly causing him to swerve off the road.  

It only got worse once he walked through the doors.  Mike let out an unintentional gasp, his pending humiliation forgotten when the musky, sweaty man-stench filled his nostrils.  He saw Chuck in one corner, the bald bull dog spilling out of a skimpy muscle shirt and small cotton shorts, while Pete and Dave spotted each other.  Pete’s blonde, shredded body was clad in nothing but a small green poser while his dark haired friend had on a pair of small, lycra shorts.  Their outfits weren’t uncommon for the striated duo as they prepped for competitions, but never before had they caused Mike’s knees to weaken.  Even the sight of Chuck’s ample rear and fat cock straining against the thin, worn cotton of his shorts made his mouth water.  If he’d still had a dick, it would have been rock hard.  

Mike shook his head to steady himself and waved a shaky hand when the guys looked in his direction.  He debated whether he should go into the locker room and strip down or just drop his shorts on the floor, eventually deciding on the latter.  Like Pete in his poser, Mike had stripped down mid-session to check himself out before, so it wouldn’t be out of place.  He laughed at himself for even worrying about it, knowing full well that what he concealed under his shorts would render it all a moot point.   

He took a deep breath as he peeled out of his loose muscle shirt, turning his back to the room and hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts.  Mike didn’t know what would be worse, staring at his altered body and missing equipment in the mirror, or turning and letting everyone else get a good look.  That last thought sent a strange thrill through him, an unexpected eagerness filling him at the thought of the guys’ reactions.  

Like ripping off a bandaid, Mike tore his shorts down and stepped free, trying not to focus on the humid air against his bare cheeks, or how odd it still seemed to not feel his shifting package nestled between his legs.  No one said anything, but in the mirror Mike could see the other guys halting their workouts to look in his direction.  He refused to turn around, loading a heavy bar for the bench press instead.  Even when Chuck started walking over and it was clear the other man had to have seen what he was missing, Mike kept acting like everything was normal.  

“Haven’t seen you for a few days,” Chuck said.  The older man’s friendly tone was far from the shocked outcry Mike had expected.  “Want someone to spot you?”  

Mike started to turn but froze, leaving the older man at his back.  Just being near the stocky ball of muscle made his altered equipment throb.  “Uh, nah, I think I’m goooOOOHH…” The tapering hulk let out a surprised gasp when Chuck’s rough, stubby fingers snapped the elastic of his ill-fitting panties.  

“This is an interesting look…” the bald man said, stepping close and wrapping his arms around Mike’s trim midsection.  He made a point of nodding towards the small panel of the g-string, grinning at the taller man’s wide-eyed expression in the mirror.  “What’s goin’ on down here,” he asked, his wide hands sliding down Mike’s shredded washboard and stopping just above the aching slit.  

It occurred to Mike that Chuck’s reaction was all too casual, but he was puddy in the other man’s hands.  Whether the broad bulldog had anything to do with it or not, all Mike cared about was the sensation of his friend’s stout cock pressing against his bare cheeks.  “Chuck...man...I don’t know what’s happenin’ to me...I…” 

“I think it’s pretty clear what’s happening,” Chuck laughed, brushing his fingers against the growing damp spot on the front of Mike’s panties.  “Let’s get a better look.”  

Mike trembled in Chuck’s beefy arms as the other man pulled down the small underwear, revealing his new body in all its glory just as Pete and Dave walked over.  He knew he should have wanted to run.  He should have wanted to shove Chuck away and force the other man to undo what was happening to him.  But at the moment all he wanted was for those rough, stubby fingers to be inside him.   

“Whooooaaaaa,” Pete laughed, adjusting the twitching bulge in his small poser.  “What’s up, big guy?  Lose something?”  

“His loss our gain,” Dave laughed, his hardening cock outlined against the tight lycra of his shorts.  

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Chuck admonished.  “It’s up to Mike.  What’ll it be, stud?  You want us to help break that thing in or what?”  

Mike couldn’t believe what he was hearing any more than he could believe that he was agreeing to it.  A part of his brain told him these were the men who’d somehow done this to him, but that knowledge did nothing to curb his overwhelming desire.  He should have been sick at the thought, not burning with an all-consuming lust.  He spun in Chuck’s grip and reached down to pull the other man’s shirt free, his hands kneading the older man’s plump, solid pecs.  

“Guess that’s a yes,” Pete laughed.  He slapped Chuck on the ass and nodded as Mike stretched out on the bench in anticipation.  “You paid for most’a this, only fair that you get to go first.”  

Mike was mortified at the sound of his whimpering moan when Chuck dropped his shorts and plunged inside, his wide frame spasming from the intensity.  Pete and Dave laughed at his frenzied expression, but all that mattered was the older man’s wide, short cock and the way he thrust hard and deep.  In that moment Mike didn’t care what he looked like or sounded like or who watched him; all that mattered was making sure the blinding ecstasy didn’t stop.  He thrashed wildly and could hear himself begging to be fucked harder.  He could see himself in the mirror, writhing uncontrollably while another man stuffed the tight hole where his own thick cock should have been.  But he only wanted more.  He clutched at the other man’s broad back when Chuck unloaded inside him, his own release nowhere in sight.  

“Holy...holy shit…” Chuck panted, pulling out as Mike squirmed on his back.  The big man had one hand clawing at his buzzed scalp while the other toyed desperately with his now-empty entrance.  “Guess he wasn’t kidding...dude really is a good lay.”  

Pete stripped out of his tented poser, laughing as Mike’s eyes followed his swaying pole.  The thick organ wasn’t as long as Mike’s used to be, but the prone hulk didn’t seem to have any complaints when the blonde adonis thrust it deep inside.  Mike groaned at the sight of the sculpted stud’s arrogant grin, his stomach fluttering.  It was an expression he was used to giving, not seeing from this angle.  “Dude...always said...he could...fuck for hours…” Pete grunted, giving long, slow thrusts that made Mike’s eyes go wide.  The altered man was practically drooling, the feeling of Pete’s balls slapping between his thighs a welcome replacement for what he’d lost.  

Dave laughed and slapped Pete on his firm, perky rear as he fished his own cock free in anticipation.  “Guess we’ll find out.”