The Experiment Tapes (Patreon)

“Are those...cassette tapes?” Owen asked, raising a confused eyebrow as he watched his roommate slide the dusty plastic container open.  

Brian nodded at his friend, unable to keep the excitement from his face.  The wiry young man had an almost manic look in his eyes as he smiled down at the small plastic drawer and the handful of unmarked cassettes it contained, each nestled in their own dedicated slot.  He’d found it shoved in the back corner of a bottom shelf at the thrift store, buried beneath a pile of discarded and half-used office supplies.  Much to Owen’s constant regret, the grinning brunette was always on the hunt for bizarre or unique treasures, and had already filled their apartment with an ever-growing collection.  Mismatched portraits, shoddy landscapes, velvet paintings, and ridiculous posters of all shapes and sizes covered nearly every inch of available wall space, while a menagerie of knickknacks from the last sixty years peppered the rest of the apartment.  To Brian, it was a curated collection of kitschy treasures.  To Owen, it was all just junk.  The only reason the dark-haired man put up with it was because of the effect it had on the girls he brought back from the bar.  Most of them loved it, and it was an easy way for the handsome, olive-skinned jock to set the hook that his athletic frame and sharp features had started.  

Owen shook his head and gave a short laugh at his friend’s wide-eyed expression.  “Do you even have a tape player?” he asked as he scooped the pre-workout powder into his water bottle, his impressive bicep flexing as he gave it a vigorous shake.  

Brian held up an ancient walkman the size of a small brick, with attached headphones that were little more than a thin, rusted metal band connecting a pair of disintegrating foam pads.  “The thrift store provides,” he said, bowing his head in a parody of reverence.  

“Jesus...how did people just carry those things around all the time?  I thought my phone was getting big...”  Owen slipped his sneakers on and walked over to stand behind his friend, holding the worn headphones between a pair of stocky fingers as if they were covered in slime.  “Bet these sound great.  So what’s on the tapes?”  

Brian snatched the headphones and shrugged.  “No idea.  Haven’t listened to ‘em yet.”  

“So they could just be blank?” 

“Or maybe they’re old mix tapes?  Or something someone recorded off the radio?  Or a class lecture?”  Brian picked up the first tape in the row and popped it into the walkman’s compartment with a satisfying click.  “Think about it, man...they could be anything!”  

“You are so weird,” Owen sighed, reaching down to tousle Brian’s short, brown hair.  

“Dude...come on...” The lean man winced and shifted in his chair, giving Owen’s girthy package a backhanded swat through his friend’s gym shorts as he pulled away.  “You just don’t have any imagination,” he said, grinning at Owen despite himself as he fixed his hair.  

The dark-haired jock waved a burly arm at the apartment around them.  “Who needs it with you around?”  His half-exposed pecs, with their wiry dusting of raven fur, inflated against his baggy muscle shirt as he flexed and nodded at his seated friend.  “You’re the brain, I’m the body,” he grinned, throwing in a flexed arm for emphasis as he looked down at himself.  

“Hey, maybe they’re workout tapes?” Brian said, rolling his eyes at his friend’s posturing.  

“That’d be great for your scrawny ass,” the flexing stud laughed, “especially since you never come with me.”  

“Brain, body,” Brian repeated, tapping the side of his head.  He waved his friend off and turned his attention back to the tapes, the thrill of discovery making his hands shake as he slipped the headphones on.  

“June fifteenth, nineteen eighty-four,” a deep, gravelly voice began.  “These tapes will be an ongoing log of my harmonic experiments.  Whether those fools at the university want to admit it or not, I’ve made a discovery that will completely revolutionize the world as we know it.  What would you say if I told you that sound could be used in targeted ways to reshape the very foundations of reality?  That, at the right frequency, the very atoms that comprise this illusion we call the world could be moved around and repositioned?  I know what you’re thinking, it’s impossible, you’re saying.  But I tell you it’s not only possible; I’ve done it.”  

Brian started examining the rest of the tapes as he listened, wondering if he’d stumbled across someone’s art project or maybe a play or script they were recording.  The tapes were unlabeled save for being numbered in sequential order from one to six, and there was no other identifying marks on the drawer to give him any sort of clues.  The audio quality was rough enough to line up with the date the man mentioned, but everything else about the recording sounded completely unhinged.  Hearing a dull hum in the background and listening to the man’s voice warble and waver as he spoke, Brian chalked it up to the age of the cassettes and hoped the tape wouldn’t break before he’d listened to the whole thing.  

“My subject, Johnathan, will be coming over for his first exposure this afternoon.  He’s a young man I recruited from the university, and, like all young men, he said he wanted more muscle when I asked what he’d change about himself.  He already has an athletic build and a handsome enough face, but he wants more.  It seems a trivial request, though I keep reminding myself that all great discoveries have to start somewhere.”  

There was a break in the audio before the man’s voice returned.  

“June fifteenth, nineteen eighty-four.  Afternoon.  Johnathan just left after receiving his initial exposure.  Other than some dizziness he reported no ill effects from the sound bath.  All he reported hearing was a low hum of varying pitch and tempo, which he said caused a slight vibrating in his stomach.  I was a little concerned at first when he stubbornly refused to let himself be photographed.  For such a fit, attractive young man he proved surprisingly modest, only stripping down after repeated promises that no one but myself would see the photos.  He seems a bit uptight and prudish, and I’m beginning to suspect that he thinks a better body will address some of his obvious insecurities.  Maybe after this we can work on making some alterations to his attitude?  He’s due back at my studio tomorrow morning, and is to call me tonight if anything starts to happen.  I tried to talk him into staying but he refused, though given that he only lives a few blocks away I can be there quick enough if needed.  Remember this day.  Nothing else will be the same after this.”  

“Hooooooooly shit,” Brian said, turning the walkman over in his hands.  “I’ve finally done it.  I’ve found the thrift store holy grail.” he laughed to himself.  “This has gotta be someone’s play, right? Maybe a novel?  This can’t be a real scientist, can it?” he asked the empty apartment, shaking his head as he saw the time.  He desperately wanted to listen to the rest of the tapes but his shift at the coffee shop was about to start and he still needed to get across town.  “Don’t go anywhere,” he said to the tapes before hurrying out the door.  

**********

Brian raced home after a seemingly endless six hours. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the bizarre tapes all afternoon.  All he wanted was to get back to the apartment, shovel some food in his mouth, and see what was on the rest of them.  That plan was waylaid as soon as he stepped inside.  

“Dude, those tapes are fuckin’ weird, man,” Owen called from the couch.  The athletic man was stretched out in a pair of gym shorts watching TV, with a muscled arm thrown up behind his head.  “At least whatever one was in there.”    

Brian made his way over and sat at the table, inspecting the tapes to make sure they were all still there.  “You listened to it?  It’s so crazy, right?  That dude sounds like a complete nutcase,” Brian said, a little jealous that his shirtless friend had experienced his discovery before he’d had the chance.  

Owen sat up with a confused look on his face.  “What guy?  It was just some weird sound for like 45 minutes.  Gave me a fuckin’ headache.”  

“Wait...the tape that was in there?  I started listening to it earlier and there was definitely a dude talking.  Something about a science experiment?”  Brian couldn’t help but notice his friend’s lack of underwear as Owen stood and his thick cock was clearly outlined against the mesh shorts.  It wasn’t entirely out of character for his friend, but Brian averted his eyes when he saw the bouncing organ twitch and plump to a half-hard state.  

Owen shrugged his broad shoulders, seemingly unaware of his growing tent.  “I thought I rewound it to the beginning but maybe not,” he said, rubbing his face with his hands.  Seated at the table, Brian was greeted with an eye-level view of his friend’s ripped abs and solid bulge as the shorts rode precariously low on his trim waist.  “Be glad...that shit made me dizzy.”  

“Horny too,” Brian laughed, finally drawing attention to his friend’s tented shorts.  “You want to point that thing somewhere else?”    

Owen blushed as he looked down at his rigid outline, quickly dropping into a chair to try and hide the eager organ.  “Fuck, sorry…” he stammered as he tried to adjust himself.  Without any underwear it was all a futile effort, and he eventually settled for leaving a hand draped across it as best he could.  

“Why didn’t you just stop listening,” Brian asked, unable to hold back a smile.  He wasn’t used to seeing his handsome friend so flustered.  

Owen just blinked, as if the idea had genuinely never occurred to him.  “Oh.  Yeah, that would’ve been the smart thing, wouldn’t it?”  

“Brain, body,” Brian sighed, patting Owen’s chiseled pecs as he stood and went into the kitchen.  He turned back just in time to see his friend waddle awkwardly into his bedroom with his tented shorts.  He wanted to ask Owen more questions about what he’d heard, but when the other man didn’t reemerge he assumed his friend had called it a night.  He’d looked tired, but Brian had been more focused on the large cock trying to fight its way out of Owen’s shorts.  He gave a short laugh and shook his head as it occurred to him that it wasn’t the strangest thing he’d experienced that day.  

By the time he was done eating Brian decided against listening to more of the tapes.  Now that he was back home, he was feeling more worn out than he originally thought.  And after what Owen described he wanted to come at them fresh, especially if they turned out to be some kind of weird meditation or hypnosis tapes.  He didn’t want to risk falling asleep and programming himself by accident, and he was off the next day, so they could wait.  They’d been sitting for years; another few hours wouldn’t hurt anything.  He debated whether he should check on Owen but thought better of it, not wanting to invade his friend’s privacy any further after the recent boner incident.  He was surprised how much he kept thinking about it as he watched some TV, the image stubbornly refusing to leave his mind.  He knew Owen was hung, but he’d never seen his friend’s, or any other man’s, solid rod that close before.  The thin mesh shorts might as well have been see-through considering all the detail he’d been able to make out.  

Brian finally gave up trying to figure out why he was dwelling on his friend’s dick and went to bed, forcing himself to think about anything else as he drifted off to sleep.  Though sleep came quickly, Brian started awake a few hours later, his heart racing as he shot up out of a deep slumber.  His brain was still groggy and slow in putting the pieces together of what had caused him to wake so abruptly.   

“OOOHHHhhhnnnhhuuuuhhnnnn…!”  

The groggy young man jumped at the sound of Owen’s grunting wail, both because of the volume and the tone.  It wasn’t the first time he’d been woken up by the sound of his friend’s fucking, but he’d never heard it sound quite like this.  Owen was usually fairly quiet, letting out a few deep, bassy grunts at most, nothing like the whimpering, cracking cry Brian just heard.  His friend was also good about letting Brian know if there was even a chance he’d be bringing company home, and as far as he knew Owen was taking the night off.  

“Huuuhhnn...huh...huh...huhhhh...hnnnnnhhh!”  

After another series of whimpers, Brian rolled out of bed to investigate, hesitating at his door.  He adjusted his boxer briefs and scratched absently at his stomach, one hand on the doorknob, feeling nervous and uneasy without fully knowing why.  An alarm bell was ringing somewhere in the back of his brain, but it was drowned out by the echoing moans.  

That sense of dread grew as soon as he’d slipped out into the hall and saw his friend’s bedroom door hanging wide open.  They usually slept with them shut, especially if they brought a hookup home, but as Brian stood and listened, it became clear that Owen was alone in his room.  He crept closer through the dark, feeling like an intruder in his own home, the whimpering groans growing louder as he neared the source until he stood frozen in his friend’s open doorway.  

Bian clamped a shaking hand over his mouth to suppress his loud gasp at the sight of his writhing friend.  Owen had managed to kick his sheets and blanket free, leaving his naked body fully exposed as it squirmed on the bed, with his long, thick cock rigid and oozing.  His eyes were closed, and despite his loud moans and constant motion, Brian had known his friend long enough to tell that Owen was sound asleep.  He knew he should leave.  Brian told himself he should quietly shut his friend’s door and give the slumbering jock his privacy, but he couldn’t move.  All the lean, stunned man could do was stare at his naked friend, his eyes travelling over every inch of Owen’s exposed flesh.  

He’d seen it all before.  Owen was a jock through and through, perfectly comfortable with his body and treating their apartment like a locker room.  As someone who’d always considered himself straight, Brian had never given it much thought.  He enjoyed the same freedoms, of being able to lounge on the couch in his boxer briefs while Owen stood in the kitchen with nothing but a towel around his trim waist.  It wasn’t weird; they were just a pair of guys relaxing at home.  

Brian also knew on an objective level how good looking his friend was.  Despite his leaner build he was no slouch himself, but he could never come close to Owen’s lantern jaw, brooding features, and sculpted body.  And he’d never wanted to.  Brian was perfectly content to let his friend be the meathead who spent all his time at the gym, but he’d never fully appreciated the fruits of that labor until now.  

Owen was stunning.  His full, pouty lips hanging open in slumbering, slack-jawed ecstasy looked almost innocent above the raw masculinity radiating off his chiseled frame.  Brian bit nervously at his lip as he watched his friend’s bulging pecs and broad shoulders tense and flex, the light trail of hair flowing down his abs perfectly bisecting the ripped, tank-tread stomach.  The rigid cock poking up from the base of that trail stabbed at the air, the heavy balls tight, while Owen’s meaty, hairy thighs flexed and the muscled cheeks of his ample rear thrust the proud organ towards the ceiling.  

“OOHHHHhhhhiiiiiIIIIIEEEEEuuuuhhh!”  

Brian almost laughed at the piercing wail that shot out of Owen’s gasping mouth, but his attention was pulled to the spurting fountain that had replaced his friend’s solid club.  Though he was well acquainted with his friend’s body Brian had never seen this particular aspect, and, as with everything else when it came to Owen’s muscled frame, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the sheer amount of fluid exploding out of the slumbering stud’s churning balls.  

“MMMMmmmmm….”  Owen sighed, a hand absently smearing the glistening puddle all over his tapering torso.  Brian held his breath, afraid that his friend was about to wake up and catch him staring, but Owen’s eyes stayed closed as he squirmed contentedly, his cock softening only slightly.  

The fear of discovery was enough of a shock to pull Brian back to his senses.  It wasn’t until he’d scampered into his room that the shocked young man even noticed his tented underwear, or the large damp spot on the front of the pouch.  He had them off and was pumping away on himself before he stopped to think about it, images of Owen’s naked body writhing ecstatically burned in his brain as he came and drifted back off to sleep. 

**********

The next morning, Brian fought the urge to stick his head in Owen’s still-open doorway.  The wiry man stumbled sleepily out of his room into a quiet apartment, unsure as to whether his friend was still in bed or if he’d gone to the gym.  He hoped for the latter as he was still trying to wrap his head around not only what he’d seen, but his reaction to it.  Merely starting to think back on the strange scenario caused his cock to throb confusingly, and Brian didn’t know how he’d react if Owen was still stretched out and exposed on the bed.  

“Fuck me, man...that was the worst night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time.”  Brian had no choice but to confront the issue when his still-naked friend lumbered into the room.  Owen’s short, raven hairy was messy from sleep, his cock half-hard as it bounced and swayed with his groggy steps.  “I had the weirdest dreams,” Owen yawned, scratching absently at the trimmed patch of hair at the base of his exposed member.  

Brian stepped close to the island separating the kitchen from the living room, using the counter to hide the twitching lump in his boxer briefs as he gawked at the exposed hunk.  In all their time living together, while he’d seen Owen naked in brief flashes, this level of casual nudity was out of place.  “I, uh, can see that,” Brian said awkwardly, nodding at the obvious patches of dried cum coating his friend’s torso.  

“What do you...oh!” Owen gave an embarrassed laugh as he looked down at himself, his cheeks turning red beneath the scrubby layer of dark stubble.  Brian watched his friend hesitate, expecting the naked man to go cover himself up, but instead Owen simply shrugged his broad shoulders.  “Well that explains the sheets,” he said with a sheepish grin.  

Brian forced himself to look away.  “Yeah, you sounded like you were having a good time,” he said, trying to will his eager cock back to sleep.  

“I did?  I don’t think it felt like it,” he said, shifting his weight as he squirmed in place at the memory.  “It’s all fuzzy.  I remember feeling scared, like there were a bunch of people watching me?  But I guess it wasn’t all bad,” he said, prodding at a patch of crusty hair on his abs.  He blushed and grinned again when he looked up and caught Brian staring.  “I, uh, probably shouldn’t go to the gym like this,” he said, mentioning nothing about parading around covered in cum in front of his roommate.  

“Depends on what you’re going for,” Brian said, his heart racing as he noticed Owen’s eyes lingering on his own bare, wiry torso.  “Bunch’a sweaty dudes throwing weights around first thing in the morning...might make you popular.”  

Owen paused as if he was actually thinking about it, his cock twitching in response.  “Nah...this early on the weekends isn’t the good crowd,” the dark-haired man said, his brow furrowing as the words registered.  He opened his mouth to say something else but turned instead, giving his friend a view of his meaty, shifting cheeks as he made his way to the bathroom.  

Brian was equal parts concerned and thrilled when Owen left the door open. He watched his friend casually crank their shower on and take a piss as if he wasn’t still on display, the glass half-wall of the shower stall only partially obscuring him as he scrubbed his brawny frame clean.  

As much as he wanted to stay and watch, Brian took the opportunity to dart into his room, his aching cock pointing the way.  He wasn’t feeling nearly as uninhibited as his friend, especially with the growing pit in his stomach.  More than just his strange response to Owen’s naked body, something about his friend filled him with the same unease he’d felt the night before.  He couldn’t put his finger on it, but thinking back on the exposed, sculpted muscle brought a stab of fear along with the strange surge of lust.  

It took every ounce of his willpower, but Brian finally brought himself under control as he listened to Owen turn the shower off.  The thinner man stuffed himself into a pair of pants and put on his longest shirt just in case, stepping out of his room to discover that Owen had done the opposite.  Instead of the draping gym shorts he normally wore, his friend had put on a worn cotton pair that weren’t much larger than his boxer briefs, along with a tank-top that fit like a second skin.  The dark-haired jock’s bulge was outlined in intimate detail while the shorts accentuated the roundness of his solid rear, but Owen seemed oblivious.   

“Alright man, I’m gonna hit the gym...see if I can’t shake this funk,” Owen said, stepping close to give Brian a quick side-hug.  

The lean man’s eyes went wide.  “Ha...have fun,” he stammered, his stomach fluttering at the way Owen’s plump cheeks strained the little shorts when his friend bent to put his sneakers on.  He was still rooted in place long after the door had shut, his mind reeling.  It wasn’t just the unusual contact that had thrown him.  While Owen wasn’t in the habit of giving him a hug for no reason, Brian was more concerned with what he saw while in his friend’s arms.  He and Owen should have been the exact same height.  They were both six feet on the nose, looking each other in the eye.  Yet when Owen had pulled him close, Brian found himself looking at his friend’s forehead.  

He told himself it had to have been the way Owen was standing, that his friend couldn’t have actually shrunk.  It wasn’t possible.  “No way...it’s not really…it’s gotta be a coincidence...” Brian stammered, his hands frantically fumbling with the walkman.  He rewound the first tape back to the beginning, unsure whether or not he was hoping to hear the voice or the droning that his friend described.  

The metallic his at the beginning of the tape seemed to last for hours before the gravelly voice kicked in.  “June sixteenth, nineteen eighty four.  It worked perfectly,” the man said.  “The Johnathan that was is no longer, and he doesn’t seem any bit the wiser.  When he arrived at my studio this morning I couldn’t hide my shocked expression at both the ridiculously revealing outfit he had on, as well as the changes to his body, but he appeared entirely relaxed.  There has been an overall increase in muscle mass, with his chest and rear nearly doubling in size.  Despite the rapid growth and extreme changes to his appearance, if anything, he was surprised by my surprise, as if walking down the street with his enlarged bottom spilling out of a pair of shorts that were entirely too small was something he’d always done.  When I pointed out his nearly nonexistent shirt and suggested that he normally covered himself up more, he acted like I was trying to pull a joke on him.  It’s clear the harmonics have done their job, though I didn’t anticipate the potential side effects.  The extra growth had to come from somewhere, and with no other fuel source it apparently used Johnathan’s own body.  The end result is a man who looks even more disproportionate than he would have otherwise as he’s now dropped eight inches in height.”  

Brian hit the stop button and fell into the chair, a wave of nauseating dizziness knocking him off his feet.  He opened the walkman and inspected the tape, hoping in vain for some sign that it wasn’t really the same one.  Not only was he not hearing the droning sound, the dialogue was impossibly different.  Even though he was at the start of the same tape he’d listened to the day before, he was listening to a stranger describe the exact changes he was starting to see in Owen.  Brian wanted to take the tapes and the walkman and burn them in the alley behind the apartment, but he had to keep listening if he was going to make any sense of what was happening.  

“I hope I’m just losing my mind,” he laughed to himself, surprised by how quickly he’d accepted the existence of reality-warping sounds.  It was ludicrous, but he couldn’t deny what he’d seen, or his strange reaction to it.  

“Johnathan’s new behavior is perhaps more jarring than his altered appearance,” the man continued when Brian reluctantly put the tape back and hit play.  “The dour, modest young man is now a cheerful flirt.  As soon as we were back in the studio he appeared to be on a mission to get me as exposed as himself, finding constant excuses to make contact with me.  Preliminary testing doesn’t indicate a loss of intelligence as much as a shift in attitude, though further monitoring is needed to determine how far this carefree outlook will go.  As it stands, his inhibitions are significantly lowered as he stripped naked at the merest suggestion for the next round of photos, displaying none of the hesitation he originally did.  The only time he showed any crack in his casual attitude was when I showed him the pictures of his former appearance.  Even then he seemed to regard them with more disgust than concern, the way a person who’d lost a large amount of weight would view a picture of their heavier self.  I continue to be amazed by the possibilities and the potential of the procedure as the implications are utterly astounding.  The next step is to see how others who know him respond.”  

Brian tore the headphones off and shoved away from the table, hating how hard he was at the thought of what the man’s subject must look like.  It was too overwhelming.  He knew he should keep listening, that he needed to learn as much as he could, but it was too big.  If this was all real it meant that everything he thought he knew about how the world worked was wrong.  

It also meant he’d inadvertently caught his friend in a trap.  The man on the tape was very clearly doing all of this on purpose, but Brian would never put Owen through something like that against his will.  He loved the other man like a brother, and he had no desire to turn him into some kind of giddy, overly-muscled boy toy.  

“Fuck me,” Brian moaned, the painful throb that shot to his aching rod reminding him that he’d also been caught up in whatever was happening.  He may not have had a pre-existing desire to see Owen remade, but, for whatever reason, the thought now made his knees weak.  

Fighting the urge to give in and relive his vivid memories of the previous night, Brian threw the tapes and walkman into his bag and bolted from the apartment.  It was a long shot, but he hoped the thrift store might be able to tell him who’d dropped them off.  If the person had left them during business hours they might have a paper trail, which meant he might be able to track them down and put an end to the impossible events.  The tapes were like an anchor around his neck as he raced across town and desperately kept trying to tell himself that he really did want to stop this.  

It was a wasted effort.  Brian was able to track down the store manager, who did remember the tapes, but who told him they’d been found in a back corner of the warehouse during a recent cleaning.  The box looked like it had been there for years, the manager said, adding that he was surprised they hadn’t simply been thrown away at some point.  He said he’d started to toss them out himself but thought better of it since cassettes were becoming popular with the kids again.  Brian didn’t tell the man how much he wished he’d followed through and just thrown the tapes away.  

Feeling defeated, he took his time trudging back across town.  Though it was a warm, sunny day, he felt trapped and claustrophobic as he wound his way down bustling city streets, staring at the people he passed and wondering how many of them had looked the same the day before.  Not knowing what else to do, he put the headphones back on and continued the tape.  

“June twentieth, nineteen eighty four.  Johnathan, or Johnny, as he’s now insisting I call him, hasn’t undergone any further changes despite repeated exposure to the harmonics.  I even attempted a different frequency pattern, but it looks as though the effects can only occur once.  Like a virus, the previous exposure seems to have inoculated Johnny against further changes.  This means I’ll need to find additional subjects for future experiments, and it looks as though Johnny will be remaining as he is.  Interestingly, the rest of the world has accepted the new version of Johnathan with the same ease that he views himself.  I witnessed his friends treat the short, curvy little man like he’d always been built that way, and when I suggested differently they said I must have been thinking of someone else.  I knew there was a possibility that the procedure would be irreversible, but I can rest somewhat easy knowing that Johnny is perfectly content.  I’d say his condition is actually a vast improvement over his former demeanor, and I say I can rest ‘somewhat’ easy because I’m not getting much rest at all lately.  Johnny, along with his voracious sexual appetite, has moved in.  When I first relented and gave in to his advances I told myself it was all part of the experiment, but I need to accept that I’ve been exposed to something as well.  My body hasn’t changed, but something inside has certainly shifted.  I’ve never thought of myself as even slightly homosexual before.  I could appreciate the work a man puts into his body, but I never had a desire to experience that body firsthand.  Now it’s a constant distraction, as well as a clear sign that I need to be more careful.  The forces I’m working with are more potent than I ever could have imagined.  I’ve had to re-record multiple sessions as the tapes keep changing, including a recording that was apparently made several days from now.  Given the changes to Space the harmonics are capable of inducing, it’s entirely possible they’re affecting Time as well.  Still, I remain undaunted.  This is new research and I’m commmuuh...commmmmnnnngghhh...” there was a pause as the man’s rough voice broke off in a grunt, followed by several seconds of loud panting.  “Thanks, Johnny.”  

Brian heard what sounded like a giggle, followed by a new voice.  “Would you put that recorder down so we can have some real fun already?”  

The recording stopped there, leaving Brian with more questions than answers as he stood outside his apartment.  He could hear music playing and the sound of Owen moving around inside, the loud pop song making him afraid of what he’d find once he opened the door.  Would it be the slightly shorter man he’d seen that morning, or something else entirely?  Even with what he’d learned from the tapes, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.  

Owen was standing in the kitchen with his back to the door, clad in nothing but a draping muscle shirt.  Between how far the baggy top traveled below his friend’s waist, and where the counter hit his midsection, it was obvious the dark-haired man had lost more than a few inches in height.  And this reduction in stature was made all the more noticeable given the way the rest of his body had shifted.  Brian was equally horrified and aroused by the way Owen’s shirt clung to his plump, massive globes, the rotund cheeks looking like a pair of soccer balls bubbling out from his lower back.  Already the now-taller man could see a similar growth had taken place at his friend’s upper body as Owen’s arms were thicker and his shoulders were broader, and Brian could see the edges of the other man’s gigantic pecs sticking out through the open sides of the shirt.  He could only stand and stare, watching Owen’s trim hips sway to the music, his inflated cheeks bouncing and shifting with the motion.  

‘Oh, hey, you’re back!” the shortened hunk grinned when he turned and noticed Brian watching from the doorway.  “It has been THE weirdest day.”  

Brian swallowed hard as Owen approached, the sight of his friend’s thick cock bouncing against the front of the shirt making it clear he didn’t have anything on underneath.  He bit back a gasp when his friend threw his arms around him and he looked down at the top of Owen’s short, raven hair, guessing that the altered jock had to have lost nearly a foot in height.  

Owen grinned up at his stunned friend and reached around to give Brian’s solid little rear a squeeze.  “It’s usually not this easy to leave you speechless,” he said.  “You okay?  You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  

Brian blinked down at the hairy, bulging shelf that had sprouted from the shorter man’s chest.  The oversized mounds, with the deep valley running down the middle, stuck out so far he didn’t even think his friend could see over them.  “I...yeah, yeah...I’m fine...sorry,” the wiry brunette stammered, his hands finding their way to Owen’s broad upper back.  “You’re right...it’s been a, uh, weird day…” 

“Oh my god, dude, you have NO idea,” Owen sighed as he let go.  He lifted his beefy arms and rested them on his head, seemingly unbothered when the motion caused his shirt to rise and expose his girthy package.  “So I went to the gym this morning, right?  I’m not there for more than a few minutes when my shorts totally explode, underwear and all, right in the middle of the floor.  And like, I don’t mind putting on a show, but what was I thinking even buying those?  There’s no way these babies,” he said, turning and giving his impossible melons a shake, “would, like, EVER fit in those to begin with.  Luckily Turner let me borrow some shorts, but then I come home to a room full of this garbage?”  Brian watched the little stud waddle over to a pile of trash bags and pull out a handful of his former clothing.  “I mean, why would I even…?”  he rolled his eyes and motioned to a pile of shopping bags on the couch.  “So then I had to go BACK out and totally redo my wardrobe and basically this is all your fault.”  

Brian’s stomach dropped at the last sentence.  “My...my fault?  But how could I know that the…”

“Um, hello?  You’re the one that let me buy all that stuff,” Owen interrupted with a laugh.  “Don’t worry...when I was replacing it I got some things for you, too.”  

Brian felt his face go bright red when Owen pulled a small purple jockstrap from one of the bags and tossed it to him.  He was a boxers or boxer briefs guy; he’d never worn anything like the skimpy underwear in his life.  “Uh...this isn’t really my style…” he said, stunned that this is what they were discussing, not the other man’s dramatically altered appearance.  

Owen sauntered back over, nodding at the bags filled with his old clothes.  “That wasn’t my style either, but you still let me wear it,” he purred, slowly undoing the fly of Brian’s pants.  “It’s the least you can do.”  

“Oh!” Brian gasped when Owen tugged his pants and underwear down in one quick motion, his rigid cock springing free.  He stared at his exposed lower half, torn between the urge to cover himself up and a strange new desire to do whatever it was Owen asked.  When his friend pulled at the bottom of his t-shirt he lifted his arms and bent over in a daze, letting the compact stud strip him fully naked.  Though he was significantly taller, Brian felt like the small one as he compared his toned definition to Owen’s curvy new bulk.  

“Well?” Owen asked, crossing his burly arms expectantly.  

Brian felt his lean frame go crimson from head to toe, the embarrassment only making his exposed rod ache even more.  “You really want me to…?”  He shrugged when Owen nodded and slowly slid the bright jockstrap up his toned legs, squirming as the straps settled around his perky rear and his aching cock tented out the pouch.  He laughed awkwardly and spread his arms, turning in a slow circle in front of his friend.  A part of him knew he should be panicking, but it was easier to give in to the burning lust than to try and process the impossible events.  They could figure that part out later, and if the man on the tape was correct, he told himself, there was no going back anyway.  If doing what Owen asked would make his friend happy, Brian was willing to go along and try to ease his guilt.  “Better?”  

Owen traced a hand down Brian’s trim side and snapped one of the elastic straps around his thigh.  “It’s a start.  We’ll see how I feel after a while of you wearing nothing else around here,” he said with a mischievous grin.  “Looks like you could use some help with this, though.”  

“Whhhoooooaaa!”  Brian groaned when Owen slipped a stubby hand into the tented pouch and fished his cock free, giving the long organ a few gentle strokes.  “Dude...you don’t hav...have to…” he stammered, fighting the sensation that he was taking advantage of his friend.  

“I know, but since I’m the considerate one around here I can’t just leave you hangin’,” Owen purred as he dropped to his knees and began licking around Brian’s leaking head.  

“Ffffuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” the taller man groaned, his eyes going wide at the sight of the former ladies’ man going to town on his cock in a warped, shrunken body.  Watching Owen’s handsome face bobbing in and out between his legs, Brian started to wonder if this was actually a nightmare after all.  

The kneeling hunk felt his friend start to tense and lifted his head free.  “Not...so...fast…” Owen said, punctuating the sentence with slow licks along the underside of Brian’s twitching cock.  He climbed back to his feet and pulled the panting man over to the couch, pushing his thinner friend down with a rough shove.  “When my shorts exploded in front of everyone earlier it got me thinking...is dancing a stupid way to try and make some extra money?  I hate...HATE...being cooped up in my stupid business clothes all day.  Maybe I just give it a shot for a few nights and see how much I make?”  

Brian just blinked at Owen, trying to wrap his head around the fact that his friend had just admitted to wanting a new career as a stripper.  The old Owen had never been overly modest, but never in his wildest dreams could Brian ever picture his friend getting up on stage and stripping down.  Now, though, the idea seemed far less ridiculous.  “If...if you’re comfortable with it…” 

Owen tossed his head back in a loud laugh.  “Like I’m not MORE comfortable with my clothes off,” he said, rolling his eyes.  “What I mean is, do I have the moves?”  

Before Brian could respond, Owen started swaying to the music again.  He’d seen his friend’s drunken dancing at bars and weddings before, but those jerky motions were nothing like the smooth, rhythmic gyrations making his exposed cock leak even harder.  Brian heard himself gasp when Owen finally worked the baggy muscle shirt up and off, giving him an unobstructed view of the muscled hourglass that was his body.  He was still sculpted, and still had the same sparse coating of scrubby black hair, but instead of being long and tapering he was short and wide, his massive chest and oversized cheeks making his tight waist seem impossibly small.  Watching it bounce and sway, Brian didn’t think Owen’s sizeable package had grown any larger, but the girthy equipment looked absolutely huge twitching to life against his altered frame.  He clutched at the couch cushions when Owen turned and began twerking in earnest, the bouncing globes exploding into a rippling sea of motion.  

“So what do you think,” Owen asked as he grinned bashfully over a broad shoulder.  

“I think I’m about to pop just from watching,” Brian laughed, squirming on the couch.  “Holy shit, man, since when can you do thaaaaaaaauuuuuhhhh!”  

It happened so fast Brian was listening to the sound of his own grunting moan before his brain registered the weight of Owen on his lap.  One second his friend had been standing in front of him, and the next he’d impaled himself on Brian’s aching cock with such ease and grace that he had to have practiced for countless hours.  

“I’ve got all...kinds of...moves,” Owen gasped, squirming until his pillowy rear formed a vacuum seal around Brian’s pulsing organ.  

“Oh...oh fuck...oh fuck…” Brian groaned, reaching up to palm the oversized mounds that were his friend’s chest.  He watched Owen’s fat cock bounce and wag uselessly as his friend rocked his hips and swiveled against his lap, the growing whimpers reminding him of the previous night.  He thought back to the sight of Owen pumping against the air, his cheeks flexing, the image making him remember what he’d heard during the last bit of the tape.  

The man on the tape said there was something happening with time as well.  Could it be possible that the effects of the experiments were still active all these years later?  Owen had said that morning that he’d had strange dreams of people watching him, and that he’d enjoyed it, and now he suddenly had a desire to be a dancer.  Listening to the cracking wails leaving his friend’s mouth, Brian couldn’t help but wonder if Owen had dreamt of taking a ride on his lap, too.  The geyser that shot from his friend’s cock was similar enough to the one he’d seen the night before, as was the contented grin when Owen shifted position, turning so that he could press their lips together just as Brian unloaded inside him.  

The wiry, cumming man couldn’t believe how good it all felt.  Owen’s scratchy stubble against his face, his friend’s squat, solid body on his lap, the fat cock resting against his abs; it was all wonderful.  It didn’t matter that neither of them had thought about doing any of this before as long as they were doing it now.  

Brian wrestled with whether or not he should tell Owen what was happening, but after taking one look at his friend’s smug, satisfied smile he decided against it.  According to the man on the tape his friend wouldn’t believe him anyway, and from what he’d seen so far Owen appeared as happy as the original subject of the experiment.  

“See?  The considerate one,” Owen said, puffing his massive chest out as he hopped off his friend’s lap.  

Brian watched a steady stream of cum trickle out from between the shrunken man’s gargantuan cheeks and run down a meaty thigh.   “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he sighed, blushing again as he stuffed his softening cock inside the bright jockstrap.  “Tell you what...how about we hit the mall and I’ll ALSO buy you some new stuff that actually fits.”  

The dark-haired stud giggled, a sound Brian wasn’t used to hearing out of his friend, and gave the lean man a stern look.  “Don’t think you’re getting out of that,” he said, nodding at Brian’s skimpy underwear.  “But sure.  Only let’s go tomorrow...I don’t feel like putting anything back on today,” he said, sighing and stretching his shortened arms overhead like a stubby cat.  

“Works for me,” Brian nodded as he reached out and gave Owen’s plump rear a swat.  He still wasn’t used to towering over the new, five-foot version of his friend when he stood, but he was already feeling significantly better about how events were shaping up.  

And, it suddenly occurred to him, there were still five more tapes.  Brian remembered that the man said he was going to continue with his experiments, and if things turned out this well for the two of them, he’d have to find a few more friends and have a listening party.