A Big Change: Personal Growth (pt. 1) (Patreon)

“Oh fuck…oh fuck…” Kent stammered, running a hand across the damp mounds of his prominent chest.  His palms scratched against the hair already pushing up through the tanned skin, his heart racing at the impossible sensation.  He’d just finished shaving for the second time that day, and already the unrelenting growth fought back.  The blonde pretty boy was naturally hirsute, having sprouted on a branch of the family tree that bore hairy fruit, but he kept his lean, fit frame almost entirely smooth.  Other than a small, carefully maintained bush at the base of his hefty cock, and a bit of growth on his calves and forearms, Kent’s well-crafted physique was spotless.  He said he did it because it showed off his ripped definition better, that he didn’t want anything obscuring his tight six-pack, or the deep valley that separated his bulging pecs.

Or so he claimed.  Blaming his vanity was easier than explaining how he’d always dreaded the thought of turning into one of the hairy bruisers that lurked in his genes.  Kent didn’t like to go into detail about what it felt like when he was younger, when his puberty-stricken body began to betray him with taunting, peach-fuzz hints at his inevitable future.  He’d kept himself clean shaven ever since, all through high school and now well into college.  Even his two roommates barely knew his secret shame, not that they’d care.  Brad’s stocky frame already sported a wiry coating of its own, and Drew didn’t seem bothered in the least by the smattering of auburn hair that clung to his toned pecs and firm stomach.

But it wasn’t the same.  His friends weren’t at war with their bodies the way he was with his.  They’d struck an accord with their silky symbiotes, agreeing to leave them alone as long as they stayed a certain length or within certain boundaries.  Kent wasn’t so lucky.  His hair used guerrilla tactics, sprouting in random patches where it never had before, steadily gaining ground with a strategy that relied on attrition.  Sooner or later, it knew, he would tire of fighting back and eventually give in.  All it had to do was wait.  Kent was determined to prove it wrong, but global events had just further stacked the deck against him.

No one knew what the giant worm-things were, or where they’d come.  Everyone hoped for answers now that the foul-smelling clouds they’d belched out had dissipated, but all they got were more questions.  Somehow, people were changing into the very thing he dreaded.  It all should have been impossible, but he’d seen it happen to people he actually knew firsthand.  This wasn’t some internet conspiracy, or some “friend of a friend’s cousin’s coworker” story.  These were guys from campus he’d spent years with, guys who should have been lean, fit and smooth but who’d become bulky, naked nightmares.

It only added to his dread.  Becoming thick and hairy was one thing; being forced to parade it around was another.  And that didn’t even take into account the change that most guys found truly horrifying.  Hair and muscle weren’t nearly as bad as the universal shrinkage that seemed to strike all of the afflicted men.  Kent had shared countless locker room showers with his friend Jake, and he was very familiar with the dark-skinned stud’s ten-inch beast, but the last picture he’d seen of the inflating hulk only showed a tiny nub poking against the pouch of a normally-stuffed jockstrap.

The fact that the picture made his own cock swell did nothing to ease his frayed nerves.  He’d even jerked off to it, just as he’d jerked off to the previously mundane memories of his naked peers in those same locker rooms.  He’d tried to think about girls and watch his usual porn, but it did less than nothing for him now.  He knew they were all in the same boat.  He, Drew and Brad had been getting hard at the sight of each other for days.  It was only a matter of time.  Already, instead of trying to hide their arousal, his two friends were starting to wear less and less.  He’d been prepared to do the same, until now.

Kent reached down and gave his stuffed boxer-briefs a reassuring squeeze.  He told himself they still didn’t know what was happening.  It was possible that not everyone would follow the same trajectory or have the same outcome.  And it’s not like he was in any danger.  They’d told everyone to stay away from the hospitals unless it was an actual medical emergency, that there was nothing they could do for you if you started to change.  The best thing to do was ride it out at home, they’d said.  They’d determined that it was the gas, not something contagious, so Kent reminded himself that he wasn’t putting Brad or Drew at risk by not telling them.  If they were also infected it was already too late.

He shuddered at the “also” as he slipped into a pair of loose track pants and a long sleeve t-shirt.  The level of coverage would raise questions, but he needed to play for time until he had a better idea of what was happening.  It all felt so ridiculous, having to justify actually wearing clothes.  Kent was still surprised by how quickly they’d all fallen into a new routine.  The world had officially changed forever.  A massive hole had been punched in everything everyone thought they knew, and yet life kept going.  People continued to adapt, doing whatever it took to feel normal and hoping that someone would just tell them what to do to make it all go away.

The urge for normalcy was a powerful impulse, so potent that when Kent walked out of his room to find his friends jerking off on the couch, he didn’t even stop to think about how odd it should have been.  He enjoyed the view instead, ignoring the two girls going at each other on the TV screen just the way his friends seemed to be doing.  His eyes lingered on Brad’s short, raven hair, and he found himself admiring the way the buzzcut showed off the shorter man’s sharp cheekbones and wide jaw.  He’d always been impressed by the brawny wrestler’s powerful physique, with his broad shoulders, beefy arms, and squat, meaty lower half.  And he’d always known, on an objective level, that Brad’s bulging pecs and comically wide cock were potential sources of envy, but he’d never stopped to put the pieces together as a complete, handsome whole before.  The same went for Drew, whose tight, bottom-heavy build seemed more like a work of art with each passing day.  Kent couldn’t believe that he’d never once noticed how the auburn-haired boy-next-door had a face that was smolderingly innocent.  With his bright eyes, button nose, and scrubby stubble the other man was disarmingly handsome, but the more Kent looked, the more he noticed the wry curl to his friend’s soft lips, and the way those blue eyes flashed with hunger.  Throw in a torso as shredded as his own, as well as a pair of thick, soccer-player thighs, and it was all Kent could do not to grab his friend’s ample rear whenever it was in reach.

Kent could feel himself kneading his rigid log while he stared, but he didn’t stop.  He knew his friends could turn around and catch him at any moment.  A part of him wanted them to.  He could see them gazing at each other out of the corner of their eyes, the porn on screen nothing but an excuse as their heads ever so slowly turned to face the other.  If it wasn’t for his recent discovery he’d be in the middle with them, but as it was he fought to keep his distance.

“Hey!” Brad called, using the excuse of looking over his shoulder in Kent’s direction to linger on  the leaking pole sticking out of Drew’s briefs.  “Look who finally…” he trailed off, scowling when he saw Kent’s outfit.  “What the fuck, man?  I thought we had an agreement.”

Drew paused his stroking, his eyes following the same path over Brad’s body when he turned to look.  He raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixed squarely on the tent in Kent’s pants.  “Yeah dude, I thought we weren’t going to make it weird.”

The blonde jock forced a laugh and shook his head.  “You suddenly have a time machine?”

“Weirder,” Brad corrected, emphasizing the last two letters.  “What?  Cinderella too good for her stepsisters now?”

“No, it’s not that,” Kent sighed, regretting his status as the group’s Looker.  He’d always felt a smug satisfaction at being the first pick whenever the three of them went out, but now that was only going to increase the velocity of his downfall.  “I just didn’t feel like walking around with my dick out, alright?”

“Your loss, bro,” Drew shrugged, wagging his thick pole.  “Gotta find a silver lining somewhere, right?”

Brad wasn’t so easily convinced.  He watched Kent walk into the kitchen, slowly looking the strapping stud up and down.  “Did you see something on the news, or what?”

Kent rolled his eyes.  “Do you hear yourselves?  You’re giving me shit for wearing pants.  If you want to see my dick the least you could do is stop pretending and just ask.”

“Okay, let’s see it then,” Brad said with a grin.

Kent turned his back towards the fridge and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.  “I never said I’d…” he bit back a gasp, his heart racing when he saw a shower of golden strands fall free in front of his face.  “…I’d agree,” he continued, hoping the others didn’t see.  As much as he wanted to inspect himself he pulled his hand away, afraid that he’d unintentionally lose more.  “Speaking of news…is there any,” he asked, wanting to change the subject.

Drew reached for his phone and shook his head.  “Nothing new.  Just more guys posting about what they’re going through.  You see it hit Billy?”

“What?  No,” Kent said, trying not to sound eager as he looked at his friend’s outstretched phone.  Instead of the thin, long-haired brunette he expected to see, he found himself looking at a thick, bald bear.  Billy’s flowing, chocolate brown mane was gone entirely, just like his smooth, runner’s build.  Now he was broad and round, so heavy with furry muscle that it was hard to imagine him running at all.  Unlike a lot of the pictures the altered men posted, Billy was fully naked, letting everyone see the small nub and grape-sized balls that had once been his swaying banana.  Kent fought back a whimper, both of dread and desire.  The sight of his inflated friend drove him wild, but he was mortified at the thought of sharing such a fate.  “Why are they all…I mean…why’s everyone posting this shit?  Why isn’t it getting taken down?”

Brad blushed when the other two looked over and caught him absently stroking himself as he stared at Drew’s phone.  “Billy said he wanted people to see what it was like, and that they’ll be okay if it happens to them, I guess.  He said it’s small, but he’s happy to report that it still works.”

“That’s a relief,” Kent said before he could stop himself, much to his friends’ surprise.  Stuck between two bad options, he took the more embarrassing one and admitted his attraction.  “What?  Like you weren’t just practically drooling over it,” he spat at Brad.  “It’s a relief for him, I mean.  For all of ‘em.”

“Mmmmhhhmmm,” Brad laughed.  “Guess we know what pretty-boy’s into.”

“At least he’s not going to have to find someone who can unhinge their jaw to blow him,” Kent shot back.  “Or someone who can fit a loveseat up their pussyyyyyyyy…” Distracted as he was, Kent didn’t see Brad coming.  Nor did his forward-leaning pose give him any leverage when the dark-haired jock suddenly shot up and grabbed him, pulling him over the back of the couch.  He landed in a heap, his face planted firmly in his stocky friend’s lap with the other man’s warm, rigid pole rubbing against his cheek.  He squirmed, but Drew grabbed his legs before he could right himself, and with Brad’s powerful arms pressing down on his chest all he succeeded in doing was causing his shirt to ride up.

It was too much for Kent.  With his surging hormones already in overdrive the sensation of Brad’s stout cock against his face was like a beacon.  Nothing else mattered.  The blonde jock's growing dread, embarrassment and hesitation all fled in the moment that it took for him to turn his head.  He was running his lips along Brad’s rod before he even realized he was doing it, his tongue flitting out against the throbbing organ.

“Ohhh…oh fuck, dude,” Brad gasped, easing the pressure that held Kent in place.  He let his friend roll over to fully swallow his eager member, the mocking tone gone from his voice.  “I know we’re all…super horny…but you’re…a natural at this, man,” he grunted, running his fingers through Kent’s hair.  The slurping stud heard Brad’s voice from a distance, barely able to focus on anything other than getting as much of the leaking cock into his mouth as he could.    There was a small alarm bell ringing in his brain at the feeling of his friend’s stubby fingers running through his hair but he ignored it, his body on autopilot.  He’d never experienced such intense desire, and in that moment he needed Brad more than he needed to hide whatever was happening.  He didn’t give a second thought to the fact that his feet were in Drew’s lap, or that he could feel the other man jerking off while he watched; he just needed to keep going.

Even when he felt the rush of air, he kept slurping.  An odd shiver ran down his spine, quickly followed by an unaccustomed breeze on his broad shoulders.  Positioned as he was on his stomach, it was like someone undid a zipper on the back of a dress, his clothes disintegrating in a line from top to bottom, following the same trajectory of the tingle that shot down his spine.  Kent knew what it meant, but he had to keep going.  He could feel Brad nearing the edge and he needed to see this through.

It all happened so fast that the other two could only stare in shocked silence at the suddenly-naked pretty-boy for several moments.  “Ke…Kent!  Dude!  You…you’re…one of them…” Drew finally stammered, unable to keep his hands from running up his friend’s now-bare thighs.  At the same time, Brad finally noticed the growing pile of golden hair collecting on the front of his boxer briefs.

“Shit!  Kent!  You’re fuckin’ hair, man…it’s falling out!”  Brad’s eyes went wide at the patches of scalp that were starting to show through Kent’s once-full head of hair, but his friend pushed him over the edge before he could pull away.  The stocky jock gave a spasming hiss as he came, unleashing such a potent spray that it squirted out the corners of the other man’s sputtering mouth.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck that’s good…” Kent whimpered as he let Brad’s softening hose fall from his lips.  He buried his nose into the other man’s lap for a moment, savoring the musky aroma instead of facing the reality of his situation.  He knew that as soon as he sat up everything would be different forever.  It already was, but since he hadn’t seen it for himself yet he could still pretend.  He took a final huff and righted himself, cum running down his chin to dribble through the growing hair on his permanently-exposed pecs.  The curly patch spreading out from the center and spilling down his abs wasn’t the forest he’d seen on some of the other affected men.  It was still small and manageable, though the tendrils pushing their way towards his shoulders and creeping up his forearms confirmed what they already knew.  It was only a matter of time.