Panty Raid (vignette) (Patreon)

*** Work in progress! ***

Mike didn’t know how long he’d been standing next to his bed, staring at the mirror on the back of his door.  Most of what he saw looked accurate: same cluttered dresser, same worn, disheveled sheets, clusters of discarded clothes on the ground.  But the fine details were off.  He hadn’t even turned his head to look around or down at himself to confirm because he was afraid that if he moved, his reflection would follow suit.  That would mean he really was seeing what the mirror revealed, which would mean Sarah actually had carried out her threatened curse.  And beyond the implications brought by the sudden proof that reality-warping magic was real, it left Mike with much more immediate concerns.

Sarah had been furious when she’d discovered the purloined panties.  She didn’t know that Mike had been snatching a pair whenever they’d hooked up at her place, and if she’d discovered them in his room it might not have been as bad.  But she’d found them on the coffee table in the dark-haired jock’s living room, which she correctly assumed meant they’d been shared with his roommates, Brett and Dave.  Mike tried to sputter out an excuse.  He’d tried to make it sound like their public placement was just an accident, that he hadn’t been showing them off like a trophy, and that he’d only taken them because she turned him on so much.

But Sarah wasn’t interested.  Despite the size advantage that Mike’s strapping, six-foot frame gave him over the mousy, raven-haired woman, he’d never been more intimidated.  Her presence seemed to fill the room, her cold fury chilling him to the core as she said that, since they all liked panties so much, she’d fix it so they could have them for real.  In the moment, Mike didn’t know what that could possibly mean.  He’d attributed the strange threat to Sarah’s anger, but the young woman had been in no mood to explain as she’d stormed out the door shortly after.

Mike was sorry to see the hookup end.  They’d never had anything close to an official relationship, though he’d always enjoyed Sarah’s odd personality and adventurous spirit in bed.  It was that kinky side that made Mike think she’d be more amused than anything else to discover the panties, and even as the door slammed he’d wondered if she wouldn’t eventually come around.

He also knew he couldn’t blame her.  Introspection wasn’t a strong trait shared by any of the men in the house, but if he was being honest with himself Mike knew he was crossing a line the whole time.  He’d known it when they’d talked about Sarah like she was no more than a piece of meat, and he’d known it when Dave had taken a silky pink pair to jerk off with.  In a confusing way, it turned him on knowing that his stocky friend was turned on as a result of his sexual conquests.  With his sculpted, athletic build and brooding, pouty features, feeling smug was the default state for the handsome hunk, but getting his friends off by proxy boosted his ego in a way he hadn’t fully expected.

Especially because they didn’t need the help.  Brett’s lean, bottom-heavy build and ginger scalp attracted plenty of attention on its own, just as Dave’s broad, granite bulk and chestnut scruff turned heads.  Mike may have been the most conventionally attractive with his short black hair and tapering, swimmer’s build, but the scrappy soccer player and the stocky wrestler had no problem pulling in partners on their own.  They were a perfect trio of wingmen, never having to worry about only one of them getting results while the others were stuck with castoffs.  In retrospect, Mike knew that only made his behavior with Sarah more gross and redundant than it already was, just as he now understood that her threat hadn’t been hollow after all.

“This can’t be…I’ve gotta still be dreaming…” Mike stammered, his heart a hummingbird in his oddly-covered chest.  He finally looked down, his stomach dropping when his wide-eyes confirmed what the mirror had been telling him.  Instead of standing bare-chested in a pair of weathered boxers, the raven-haired jock had somehow acquired a bra made of pink lace along with a matching set of panties.  The discrepant top contrasted against the firm, prominent pecs it covered, but the same couldn’t be said for the sheer bottoms.  Instead of failing to contain the dangling banana and heavy orbs that had previously been his girthy package, Mike’s hand trembled just above a petite little bulge nestled comfortably inside.  He could see the compact acorn through the lace, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to touch it.  Not yet.  Instead, with motion once again returned to his limbs, he prodded every inch of his otherwise unaltered frame, feeling a mix of relief and confusion in the process.  His high cheekbones and chiseled jaw were covered by the normal dusting of scrubby stubble, and the rest of his tanned frame still sported the same sculpted bulk, but the way he viewed it had changed.  Mike couldn’t remember the last time he’d given being shirtless so much as a passing thought.  Especially as someone who spent a large chunk of his time in tight swimwear in front of crowds, it never crossed his mind.  But now, staring at his pointlessly covered pecs left him with the same feeling he had when staring at his crotch, like he was looking at something that needed to be covered.

“Oh…oh god…” he gasped when he finally slipped a hand into the front of the panties.  He shivered from both humiliation and excitement when the small nub ground into his palm, the shrunken organ feeling more sensitive than ever despite its size.  What Mike didn’t feel was anything solid.  Though his pert nipples shot to attention as he squeezed and tugged on the minuscule member, the subpar organ itself didn’t swell or firm up at all.

“Okay.  Okay.  I can…I can figure this out…” Mike murmured, his plump pecs heaving as he fought to keep from panicking.  Looking around the room didn’t help.  As Mike pulled his hand free and shifted his attention to covering himself, he discovered the alterations went far beyond the underwear on his body.  The piles of dirty clothes on his floor, the folded t-shirts and underwear in his dresser, the pants and sports gear hanging in his closet; all of it had taken on a revealing, feminine aspect.  Instead of boxers all he found was a rainbow of variously shaped panties and bras, including teddies and lingerie, and instead of t-shirts he found crop-tops, cutoff tanks, sports bras, and slinky camisoles.  He still had shorts, though they were much smaller, tighter and made from different material than he was used to, and his jeans had undergone a similar change, with most being swapped out for leggings or yoga pants.  Even his swimwear had transitioned, and instead of the skin-tight trunks he should have had, Mike found himself gawking at a woman’s one-piece.

“I can’t…I can’t actually wear this stuff in public.  Can I?”  Mike shook his head and stepped away from the dresser, turning his attention back to the mirror.  Now that the discovery had time to settle, his initial shock was quickly fading.  Instead of embarrassed horror, the smooth-skinned jock now began to notice how the bright bra drew attention to his broad shoulders and impressive upper body, while the panties, though highlighting his diminished rod, accentuated the tightness of his waist and the perkiness of his firm, round bubble.  And though a frantic voice in the back of his head kept insisting that he should be horrified by the rest of his bright new wardrobe, Mike knew it would make him look just as good.

With that knowledge in mind, the scantily-clad swimmer pulled his door open and stepped out into the hall, making it most of the way to the kitchen before it occurred to him that he still hadn’t put anything on.  He paused when he heard his friend’s voices but then felt foolish at the rush of insecurity that washed over him.  They ran into each other in their underwear almost every morning.  Why should this one be different?

But Mike knew it WAS different, at least for a moment.  Rounding the corner from the hallway into the kitchen, he was certain that Brett and Dave shouldn’t have been so similarly dressed or endowed.  Like himself they each had on unnecessary bras and skimpy panties, and the tiny lumps those panties covered should have been much, much larger.  There was a moment of silence as his friends turned their addled attention from each other over to him, but before Mike could point out the truth of their circumstances he began to second guess himself.

“Uh…mornin’,” he said, smiling bashfully as he looked Brett up and down.  The shorter man’s lean, freckled muscle was mostly on display, covered only by a maroon bra and matching thong, the satin material popping against his pale skin.  As with Mike, Brett’s thong emphasized just how small his already-below average cock had become, but at the same time it drew attention to the plump, ample rear and stout thighs that carried the wiry man so easily across the soccer field.

“Hey,” Brett offered back with a weak grin.  “Is, uh, is something weird this morning,” he asked, looking down at himself and then over at Dave.

Mike turned and looked at the stocky ball of muscle, cocking his head to the side.  Unlike the rest of them, the hairy, chestnut-haired hulk’s plump, juicy pecs actually looked at home in the teal bra, just as his firm globes looked eye-catchingly accentuated by the bright little panel that barely covered them.  The nubby lump poking against the front looked out of place against the trunk-like thighs on either side, but Dave’s normal manscaping routine had clearly been updated to accommodate his new wardrobe as the trail of fur that ran down his abs had been neatly trimmed, connecting with a small patch of hair instead of a burly bush.  “I don’t…think so?”  It sounded wrong even as he said it, but by the time he’d finished speaking he wasn’t sure why.  “You guys feeling okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dave said, running a hand over the trimmed hair on his muscle gut while the other hovered just below one of his heaping mounds.  “Just feels like something’s off, you know?  Brett said the same thing.”

Mike shrugged and stepped closer, the sensation of the tight fabric rubbing against his chest almost punching through the haze.  “I don’t know what to tell you.  Everything looks fine to me.”  He reached out as if he was going to grab a mug from the cabinet, but instead used the motion to slip a hand to Dave’s back and unhook the stocky stud’s bra.

“Hey!”  Dave yelped and blushed, his hands shooting to his chest to hold the top in place.  There was another moment of silence as they processed the reaction, all of them thinking that it was odd while simultaneously knowing they would have behaved in the exact same way.

“Why so uptight all of a sudden?  You’re the one who’s always waving those things around,” Mike laughed, uncertain where the words came from.

“I’m not ‘waving them around’ you dick,” Dave spat back, defiantly slipping out of the unlatched top and flexing the exposed slab.  “I can’t help how big they are.”

“Except you can,” Brett said, rolling his eyes.  “You’re the one who’s trying to lift their way to the biggest tits on campus.”

“What can I say?  Some of us are naturally talented.”  Dave ran a finger down the deep valley between his prominent pecs, a smug grin on his face.  “You don’t hear me giving you shit for that fat dumper of yours.”

“It’s not ‘fat,’ it’s supple,” Brett said defensively.

“I can vouch for that.”  The three friends froze at the unexpected voice, their confusion growing when Bobby sauntered sleepily into the room.  The beefy giant didn’t live with them, though it was clear their friend had spent the night based on his brief-clad state and disheveled hair.  The towering blonde yawned, his piston of an arm flexing as he reached up and ran one hand through his shaggy, sleep-messed mop while the other scratched absently at his firm gut.  “Looks like you ladies are having fun without me,” he said, his boy-next-door face beaming as he looked at Dave’s topless state.  “I know, I know…you’re not technically ‘ladies’ or whatever, but it’s easier this way,” he added with a broad-shouldered shrug.

Mike didn’t know what to say.  Bobby was a big, dumb teddy bear whose easy charm and imposing size had always made him a hit with the women on campus.  He’d never understood why himself, but it was suddenly crystal clear.  Looking at the blonde’s cute face, powerful arms, and over-stuffed briefs, he was hit with a simultaneous punch of envy and desire.  The latter brought with it a strange tingling in his mouth and rear, the source of which he began to recognize as he watched Bobby lumber over and wrap his arms around Brett from behind.

“So are you coming back to bed or what, babe,” the bigger man purred, his hands running up and down Brett’s toned torso as he bent to kiss the ginger’s slender neck.  Mike watched Brett’s hips begin to squirm as his friend began pressing back against Bobby’s briefs with his ample rear, but his attention was diverted when the burly blonde’s hand drifted up the redhead’s torso.  “Dave…what’re you doing,” he laughed, raising his lips from Brett’s neck to look over at the stocky man still clutching his pecs to cover them.  “Everyone here is intimately familiar with those beauties.  Here…does this help?”

“Oh!”  It was Brett’s turn to gasp when Bobby deftly unlatched the front of his bra, the blonde’s hands latching onto his modest little pecs before he could respond.  The whimpering ginger just looked at his friends as he squirmed, his slack-jawed face a mask of ecstasy.  “Re…really, big guy?  Right here in front of everyone?”

“You’re the one who made me come look for it,” Bobby grunted, spinning Brett in his arms so he could lean in for a proper kiss.  He pulled the bra free in the process, his hands dropping to squeeze and knead the smaller man’s supple rear.  “Now who wants to make this a group effort,” he laughed when Brett tugged the front of his briefs down, letting his long, fat cock spring free.

Mike reached back and clutched the counter as he watched Brett drop to his knees and swallow their friend’s rigid log, the room feeling like it was spinning around him.  Without missing a beat, Dave strutted over and threw himself at the bigger man, squirming in Bobby’s grip while their lips met.  Mike watched their friend tug Dave’s panties down, the hairy hunk’s little cock looking pitiful against the club slipping in and out of Brett’s mouth.

But it wasn’t his cock that Dave seemed concerned with.  The burly brunette let out a low moan when Bobby reached down and slipped a pair of fingers between his firm globes, the sight sending a painful wave of desire through the dark-haired observer.

“Oh…oh fuck…” Mike groaned, already moving.  With Dave squirming on one side and Brett on his knees in front, he took up the space on Bobby’s left, kissing his way across the blonde’s beefy pecs while his bra was unhooked and pulled free.  He felt the same rush of exposure that his friends had, but before he could process it a pair of soft lips had entirely swallowed his petite package.  He looked down to see his panties around his thighs and Brett grinning up at him, the ginger’s hand looking small as it tugged away on Bobby’s spit slick rod.

Mike had another moment of realization as it occurred to him that the three of them were helplessly fawning over a man.  He vaguely remembered a time when the three of them had focused on someone else, but his brain kept insisting that it had been a woman and that couldn’t be right.  He ignored it altogether when Bobby’s probing digits found their way to his eager hole, locking eyes with Dave as they were both fingered by the hulking hunk.