Hashtag Horsing Around (vignette) (Patreon)

Brody didn’t understand what was happening.  He knew the things he saw and felt couldn’t be possible, but his stunned senses kept insisting otherwise.  It also didn’t help that everyone around him went about their workouts as if everything was perfectly normal, further adding to his persistent denial.  The raven-haired jock kept telling himself that even if his slightly-subpar cock really had inflated out of nowhere, there was no way a bustling gym would just ignore the fact that the top third of the hefty organ now hung exposed through the bottom of his shorts.  It also didn’t explain how his underwear had apparently vanished at the same time.  One second he’d felt the boxer briefs around his hairy thighs like always, but without warning his meaty rear was suddenly pressed against his gym shoes with nothing in between.  Given the impossible growth that had occurred the change to his wardrobe was for the best as Brody didn’t even want to think about how painful it would have been for his swaying hose to be so confined, or the equally hefty balls that went with it.  He could see them outlined against the front of his shorts, two imposing lumps that shifted constantly with the slightest movement.  Like his cock they hung far too low and constantly threatened to peek through a leg opening if Brody moved in the wrong way, even though those leg openings were halfway down his solid thighs.

The dark-haired hunk wracked his brain for any clue as to the cause, but as far as he could recall it had been an entirely normal trip to the gym so far.  He’d met up with Eric after work like always, they’d swapped out their business casual for shorts and tank-tops, and had hit the floor.  There’d been a slight run-in with an annoyed man in the locker room who didn’t appreciate the way he and Eric were mock-humping each other while changing, or, as Brody suspected, he’d enjoyed it a little too much.  He couldn’t blame the man.  With his dark, olive complexion, brooding features, sculpted body, and light dusting of soft black fur, Brody was used to being checked out.  Still in his mid-twenties, he straddled the line between youthful exuberance and mature masculinity, though his locker room antics emphasized the former rather than the latter.

It was simply a reflex.  Having played some form of sports for as long as he could remember, Brody was used to roughhousing as soon as the clothes started to come off.  On the surface, he thought of it as a way to defuse the awkwardness, a ripping off of the bandaid that was public nudity.  But had he ever stopped to think of it on a deeper level he would have recognized it as the desire for contact that it was, the only socially acceptable way for him to embrace and bond with his male friends.  Brody thought it would have been weird for him to walk up and hug Eric from behind, so instead he coupled his thrusting hips with the arms he wrapped around the other man’s strapping torso.  Despite the fact that they were both clad only in their underwear, and that he was hammering his modest bulge against the other man’s firm globes, he told himself there was nothing sexual about it.  Yes, his hands were just shy of groping the dark-skinned stud’s impressive pecs, and yes, he took the opportunity to appreciate the way Eric’s briefs were much more significantly stuffed, but there was nothing weird about it.  He always made sure to berate the other man with a litany of homophobic slurs while he pawed at him,  just to make it extra clear that nothing sexual was occuring, and Brody suspected it was this last part that had angered the exasperated witness.

But that wasn’t their problem.  They weren’t trying to hurt anyone’s feelings, and the uptight stranger was welcome to join in if he’d wanted.  Brody had even offered an attempted apology, saying that he was only horsing around, but the man had just looked them both up and down before shaking his head and walking away.  It was all the more annoying because it caused Eric to go on a tangent about how they were “too old” for stuff like that anymore, and how they needed to “act like adults.”  Brody tried to make a joke out of it by pointing out that they’d actually done the man a favor by letting him watch some man-on-man action with a pair of strapping studs like themselves, but it hadn’t helped his case.

He tried not to think about it at all once they were out on the floor.  He knew Eric wasn’t going to hold a grudge and figured that his friend had probably forgotten about it already, though he kept catching the man from the locker room giving them the stink eye from across the gym.  Brody had actually been ready to go and call the man out when the bizarre events began to unfold.

“You okay man?  That last set looked rough.”

Brody shook his head and forced his eyes away from the mirrored wall and his warped reflection.  “I don’t know…I just started to feel kinda funny,” he shrugged, a confusing shudder running through him when he turned to look at Eric.  His friend’s concerned smile suddenly seemed to accentuate the other man’s bright eyes and chiseled features, the perfect body they were attached to practically glowing.  All at once, Brody’s body tingled at the memory of Eric’s smooth, brown skin against his own hairy muscle, his fingers itching to reach out and grab his friend’s perfect pecs all over again.

“Well yeah, dude.  It’s getting to be about that time,” Eric laughed, his eyes dropping to Brody’s waist.

“What do you…” the dark-haired hunk trailed off and blushed when he looked down and saw that his exposed monster had started to twitch and swell.  The dangling organ was starting to look like a third forearm as it lifted the leg of his shorts while it hardened, the throbbing head a small fist at the end.  It occurred to Brody that the cock he’d always wished could be bigger was now uselessly large, but while the revelation brought a quiet rush of embarrassment he didn’t feel the horror that he thought he should.

“Let’s knock out another couple sets and then we can go blow off some steam before coming back for round two, alright?”  Brody could only nod in numb, wide-eyed surprise when Eric reached down and gave his cock a quick tug.  It all seemed so wrong but felt so normal, until he turned to follow his friend over to the squat rack.

“Shit!” he yelped, abruptly tripping over his own feet and landing in a heap on the floor.  The tumble caused his shorts to ride up all the way, allowing his foot-long girder and churning baseballs to spill free for everyone who turned to stare in his direction.  “I’m, uh, I’m good,” he stammered, his face crimson as he tried to convince himself he was more embarrassed by the exposed monster than the fall.  He looked up at Eric with another confused expression, shaking his head.  “I don’t know what happened…guess I tripped over my own feet.”

“I mean, yeah.  You do it all the time.  Fuck…anyone would with those things,” his grinning friend said as he reached down to help him up.

“What do you…fuck!”  Brody’s stomach dropped when he finally looked at his feet, finding a pair of mammoth strangers instead of his average sized sneakers.  He should have worn a size 11, but the gigantic, paddle-like appendages now looked closer to a 16 or 18.  They would have looked large on a towering basketball player, but on his 5’10” frame they were comically large.  “But…what happened to my…those are so big!”

Eric raised an eyebrow and tousled Brody’s short-cropped hair when he pulled him to his feet.  “Oooookay, maybe we should skip right to the blowing off steam part,” he laughed, giving Brody’s rear a quick swat.

“Gah!”  The addled jock felt the changes before he saw them.  Not only did Eric’s hand collide with bare flesh instead of the back of his shorts, it collided with too much of it.  There was a lingering ripple that bounced through one cheek and then the other, sending the plump globes into a flurry of jiggling.  Brody felt like he was in a nightmare.  A dream was the only thing that would explain the impossible circumstances, and the way his clothes and body kept changing at a moment’s notice.  The loose mesh bottoms he should have had on were now skin-tight lycra, and they looked more like a pair of chaps than a pair of shorts.  The front and back panels were conspicuously absent, leaving his obscenely inflated package as exposed as the bouncing pillows that had replaced his firm rear.  The tight lycra only served to further accentuate the changes to his backside as the material seemed to lift and enhance the attention-seeking mounds, but the rigid club that was his cock needed no assistance on the other side.  Brody wanted to run and hide as he felt his alterations wagging, jiggling and bouncing respectively with each awkward, plodding step of his now-gargantuan feet.  The enlarged appendages threw off his gait, though it all felt horrifyingly natural as he trotted behind Eric into the locker room.  “Dude…I feel like I’m losing it, man.  What the fuck is happening to me…” the dark-haired man stammered.  His chest heaved as he gawked at his friend, a fresh punch of lust slamming into his rollercoaster stomach.  His body was on fire even as his mind raced to catch up, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something confusingly wonderful was about to happen.

“It’s cool, you just got a little too worked up.  We’ll have that head clear in no time,” Eric said, his tone surprisingly gentle.  “I haven’t seen you like this in a minute.  You should’ve told me it was getting bad…I wouldn’t leave you hanging.”

“I didn’t know it was…what do you mean getting bad?  And what do you mean you haven’t seen me like this?  I shouldn’t…should I look like this?  Everyone was staring at me out there!  My shit’s just hanging out in the open!”  Brody let out a quiet whimper, a hand absently tugging at his muscle shirt.  The flowing top was loose and open at the sides but it suddenly felt constricting and he wanted it gone, just like his boat-sized sneakers.  When Eric reached over and lifted the bottom of the shirt he raised his arms without thinking, just as he found himself slipping his enlarged feet free.  He felt like he should have been more alarmed by the sight of the wide, lengthy paddles as he wiggled his hairy toes, but all he felt was relieved.  And he was about to have more immediate concerns.

“Well, yeah, man.  You I know I say this with all the love, but you’re a…unique…looking dude.  With all the stuff you’ve got going on down here,” Eric said, gesturing to his friend’s lower half, “that face isn’t going to help much.”

“What do mean my…face…” Brody’s voice dried up in a hoarse whisper, his heart thundering in his chest when he looked past Eric at the row of mirrors above the sinks behind him.  Under ordinary circumstances the dark-haired jock felt like he would have screamed, but all he could do was stare in numb silence at a face he no longer recognized.  His handsome, symmetrical features were gone, replaced by a visage that had become as warped and exaggerated as the rest of him.  His jaw was still wide and strong, but now it was too wide, and too long.  It looked like someone had grabbed the bottom and pulled it down, causing his soft lips to hang partially open in front of teeth that seemed too prominent below a nose that had gone from distinguished to flat and broad.  On either side his ears now stuck out like flaps, and his bright eyes sat in an awkward spot against a forehead that competed with his jaw to see which of them could be longer.  He wasn’t exactly ugly, but “unique” was an understatement, especially when compared against his previous, All-American jock features.  “That…that can’t be…” he sputtered, failing to notice the lump in Eric’s shorts as his friend gently turned him away to face the lockers.

“Let’s get you squared away before you really lose it,” the other man said, more to himself than anyone else.

“What do you meeEEEEEIIIEE!” Brody let out a surprised grunt when Eric’s thick rod suddenly slipped inside.  He looked back over a shoulder at his grinning friend expecting to see an equally surprised expression, but the other man just nodded and gave one of his cheeks a slap.

“There we go…fuuuuck…still can’t believe something so big can feel so tight,” Eric sighed, slowly working up the pace of his thrusting.

Brody didn’t know what to say.  The fact that he had his friend’s cock inside him was surreal enough, but the fact that it was happening in a public locker room and no one seemed to care was too much.  Brody knew his supposedly-virgin hole should have felt like it was splitting open around Eric’s fat seven inches, but all he felt was a confusing ecstasy.  Instead of pulling away like he knew he should, Brody felt his hips begin to pop and roll, his body moving on instinct.  “Oh…oh fuck…what are we dooohh godddd…this is…nngg…nnnggghheeeiii…hhoohhnneeiiiggghh…” Brody’s elongated face went crimson at the sound of his desperate howls.  He was braying and neighing like a barnyard animal while bucking his plumped rear back against Eric with wild abandon.  Brody didn’t even know if the other man was still thrusting or just standing there and holding on while his body exploded with motion, a burning, consuming need pushing every other thought far into the background.  In the moment, the bottom-heavy hunk could only focus on how good it all felt.  He didn’t worry about his echoing howls, or the way his uselessly large cock slapped up against him, or how his rat cheeks rippled like jello while his enlarged feet kept him planted in place.  He didn’t worry about what his warped, awkward face looked like twisted by ecstasy, nor did he care how many people saw and heard what was happening.  All he cared about was the release, and how good it felt to be locked in a lustful embrace with his friend.  The sensation of Eric’s body pressing against his back coupled with the rigid organ lighting up his insides created a bond that the penetrated jock could only get when he was with other men.  He loved how it felt to be ridden and roughoused more than anything; he was literally built for it.  It wasn’t like he could use his heaping horse cock on anyone else, and with an ass like his all he needed was a saddle.

All at once, Brody realized how lucky he was.  He wished they were at home so he could get Eric as naked as himself instead of the other man just pulling the front of his shorts down, but he knew he was the only one who could get away with being so exposed, and only then because of his “condition.”  But Brody was still grateful to have a friend so eager to help him out, especially one as skilled as the other man.  Without Eric or someone else to help relieve the constant swells of brain-fogging lust that washed over him, the penetrated jock knew he’d be useless.  When his head was clear he was as sharp as ever, but once his third leg started to take over he needed to relieve the pressure or he’d be little more than a horny, horse-hung stallion.  Luckily everyone seemed to understand his unique predicament, which is how he got away with his exposed state at the office and when in public in general.  He knew most people would be mortified, and there were times when he felt that embarrassment himself, but more than anything Brody just felt lucky.

He closed his eyes and let out another loud neigh, loving how the humid locker room air felt on his bare torso.  The pressure was building, and his wide nostrils flared as he huffed and bucked with increased frenzy until he finally fell over the edge, his monstrous cock erupting all over the lockers.  It was a whole-body experience, so overwhelming that Eric had already shot his own load and put himself away by the time Brody’s head started to clear.

“You deeeeefinitely needed that,” Eric laughed, giving his friend’s battered globe a squeeze.

Brody gasped and shivered when he felt the other man wipe the trail of cum that ran down the back of his thigh, feeling a watched-over contentment instead of any embarrassment.  “Yeah…yeah I really did,” he panted, reluctantly slipping back into his muscle shirt.  He milked the remains of his load from his softening monster and wiped down the lockers, surprised that he’d let himself get so worked up.  “Thanks, man.  I owe you one.  Again.”

Eric just laughed and shrugged.  “Not like you’re the only getting something out of this.  You ready to go finish up out there now?”

**********

Across the locker room, Dave watched the pair exit with a victorious grin.  He’d long since grown tired of their constant antics every time they set foot in the locker room, especially the dark-haired one.  He’d ignored it for as long as he could, but enough was enough.  If the young man really wanted to “horse around” like he said, there was an app that could help with that.

Dave had only ever used it once before, and the results were just as impressive the second time.  The power of it all was terrifying, or at least it should have been, but even now it was all starting to feel entirely normal, like he really had just taken a picture of a stranger at the gym.  Sure, he’d put the tags “#hunglikea,” “#madeforriding,” #horseface,” “#horseshoes,” #stallion,” “#horsingaround,” and “#ponyproblems,” but he hadn’t caused anything to happen; he’d only described how things were.  Hadn’t he?

Already the question was moot.  Dave looked at the video he’d taken of the athletic pair just now, forcing himself to put it away as his cock started to twitch.  He could watch it later when he got home, and it wasn’t like he didn’t see it in person enough anyway.  Luckily for him, the two were always horsing around in the locker room.