From the Archives: Clothes Make the Man (Patreon)

“Here’s a deposit for the spank bank!”  Kyle winced as Mike’s sweat-soaked briefs hit him in the face.  His hands already full with a stuffed hamper, the scrawny young man had no way of avoiding the bundle of soiled gym clothes that came hurtling out of the other man’s bedroom.  The naked, raven-haired hunk followed, a smug grin plastered across his chiseled face.  “Thanks, champ.  Drink it in,” Mike said, his voice dripping with condescension.  He gave Kyle’s ass a rough swat on his way to the bathroom, but paused and turned back around after a few feet.  “Oh, hey, how’s that History paper coming?  Shit’s due Friday.”

Kyle took a deep breath as he turned, mentally preparing himself so that his expression wouldn’t give anything away.  He hated how much he loved the sight.  Mike was sculpted perfection, with the kind of tapering, athletic body that people either longed to have, longed to experience, or both.  His dark, olive complexion bore a light coating of wiry hair that was prominent enough to accentuate his ample muscle without being excessive, heightening his already overwhelming attractiveness.  It was as if the other man had been custom-built for desire.  The hefty cock and impressive balls dangling between his sturdy thighs were large but proportional to his 5’10” height, as were the perky globes that made up his solid bubble.  It was a physique that made his smoldering features seem redundant, especially when his confident swagger was thrown into the mix.  Even with studs like Hank and Lincoln rounding out the house’s roster Mike had no problem strutting around on display, knowing full well that he was still on top.

The small, wiry man with his arms full of dirty laundry couldn’t relate.  Where Mike, Hank and Lincoln seemed to have no problem filling out with muscle, the copper-headed waif had always been tiny.  At barely 5’6” he was not only the thinnest but also the shortest, with a compact frame that sported a decent amount of definition but no real bulk to speak of.  Kyle’s spindly arms could barely lift the chunky hamper when it was full of everyone’s clothes, let alone the kind of weight the other three regularly tossed around at the gym.  It was part of the reason he’d worked so hard to get in with the handsome trio.  Yes, they gave him a hard time, but being associated with three of the most popular guys on campus also afforded him a certain amount of protection, which went a long way for someone who was small, slim, and openly gay.

Which isn’t to say that his three friends were progressive as much as they were simply the best of a series of bad options.  A state university in a rural, midwest town was challenging terrain at the best of times for someone like himself, and even though Kyle had grown up in the area and knew how to navigate the choppy waters, he’d long since run out of patience.  Mike, Hank and Lincoln were as homophobic in their own way as the more aggressive bullies he’d dealt with all throughout his youth, but instead of tormenting him physically they taunted him the way Mike currently did.  They loved to tease him with their sculpted physiques and talked to him more like a pet than a peer.  He did all the cleaning and the laundry, as well as most of their homework, and in return he was treated like the runt of the litter.  He was routinely manhandled, pantsed, groped, intruded upon in the shower, and otherwise publicly humiliated by his smug roommates, all under the guise of “joking around” even though those jokes only ever seemed to be directed at him.  He did his best not to let his frustration show, and he told himself it would be foolish not to enjoy the eye candy while he could, so he gritted his teeth and stayed quiet, biding his time until things were ready.

“Don’t worry...it’ll get done,” Kyle said, forcing his eyes to stay above MIke’s ripped abs and not take the bait.

“Worry?  Me?”  The naked jock scoffed.  “I’M not the one who needs to worry,” he said, stepping forward and roughly tousling Kyle’s hair.  “Anything less than an “A” and I’m gonna have your little dick in a vice.  Got it?”

Kyle tried to pull his head away but Mike kept his calloused palm clamped to his scalp.  “Yeah, I got it, okay?  I got it!” he grumbled, his face burning when the other man finally pulled his hand away.  “Did it ever occur to you that maybe you should actually try and learn something while you’re here?  I mean, you ARE paying for these classes.”  Kyle swallowed hard at Mike’s glare and took an instinctive step back, only to bump into Hank’s furry wall of a torso.

At 5’8” the stocky brunette was only slightly taller than himself, though the brawny hunk’s ample muscle dwarfed Kyle, and while Hank was every bit as cut as Mike, his shredded definition was obscured by a curly forest of silky, chocolate fur.  Coupled with his comically wide, dimpled chin the overall effect was an appearance that was exaggeratedly masculine, which made the outline of a thick, massive cock in his gym shorts all the more appropriate.  Hank had the biggest dick of the bunch, a fact that the burly jock loved to emphasize whenever possible.  His favorite outfit for lounging around the house was nothing but a pair of thin mesh shorts with no underwear, which made the plump, fat log as impossible to ignore as his hairy, ample cheeks since both bounced and jiggled with the slightest movement.

“What’s goin’ on,” Hank asked, not moving when the smaller man backed into him.

Mike shrugged.  “Looks like Kyle’s finally growing a pair.  Thought it was a good idea to lecture me about how I spend my time,” he said, his amused tone dripping with menace.

“He is?  Let’s take a look!”

Hank’s faux enthusiasm made clear what was coming.  Kyle yelped when the hairy jock grabbed his shorts and tugged them down, taking his underwear with them while Mike swatted the laundry basket out of his hands.  He was swallowed in a meaty embrace and lifted off the ground before he could react, giving Mike an opportunity to pull the discarded bottoms free.  “Hey!  Quit it!  Put...put me down…” Kyle stammered as the dark-haired hunk’s calloused hand clutched his tiny balls.  The smaller man’s package was as compact as the rest of him, his thin rod topping out at just over four inches when hard, a state that he was rapidly approaching.

“Huh.  My mistake,” Mike laughed.  He gave a rough squeeze and waited until Kyle was fully erect to let go, though Hank still held him aloft.

“What the fuck are you guys doing to him now?”  Lincoln’s deep voice boomed down the hallway before the tall blonde’s All American face appeared in the door to his room.  He rolled his eyes and folded his arms as he stepped out, giving all of them an annoyed look.  Like Hank he was shirtless and clad only in a pair of chino shorts, but unlike the stocky bear Lincoln’s tanned skin was naturally smooth, showing off every inch of his sculpted definition.  He was the tallest of the bunch, standing an even six feet, and every bit the stereotypical pretty boy.  If they weren’t land-locked, Lincoln’s long, ripped frame would have looked perfectly at home holding a surfboard on a beach somewhere.  As it was, the golden-haired stud existed in a state of perpetual shirtlessness, only grudgingly donning a top whenever he had to go to class or work, and even then he waited until the last possible minute.

“We thought Kyle here finally hit puberty,” Hank laughed.  He lowered the squirming man to the ground but still held him in place, giving Lincoln a clear view of the hard little rod.  “Turns out we were wrong.”

“Never hurts to check, though,” Mike added, exchanging a quick glance with the other two.  “You know, just to be safe we should probably keep an eye on things.  And maybe if someone fixes their attitude they can get their pants privileges back.”

“Not to be ‘that guy’ or anything,” Hank said, nodding at Kyle’s bare lower half, “but do we really want to stare at his hard little dick all the time?  Kind of a punishment for us, isn’t it?”

“Hmmm...good point,” Lincoln nodded before darting back into his bedroom and reemerging with a tank-top.  He held the thin workout shirt up in front of himself, showing the group how it was baggy even on his larger, taller frame.  On Kyle it would fit like a small gown.  “This should do the trick.”

Kyle blushed from head-to-toe when Hank lifted his tiny t-shirt free.  He didn’t try to stop him. He knew it was pointless to resist, so instead he stood flushed, naked and hard, his skinny frame looking pitifully small next to Mike’s equally exposed muscle.  As predicted the oversized tank-top draped below his waist, though it was still short enough that he’d be exposing himself every time he raised his arms.

“I guess that’ll work,” Mike shrugged, grinning at the small lump formed by Kyle’s rigid little cock.  “We’ll go clean out his dresser while he’s doing this load of laundry.  If he asks nicely in a couple days maybe, MAYBE, we’ll give it back.  IF we haven’t thrown it all away by then.”

“But...but aren’t you guys having people over tonight?  What am I supposed to…”

“Oh, yeah, thanks for reminding us,” Hank interrupted, giving Kyle’s bare ass a squeeze.  “You can be on drink duty.”

Despite his crimson face, Kyle’s stomach fluttered at the thought of parading around in nothing but Lincoln’s old workout shirt in front of a house full of boisterous jocks.  Now that Hank had let go, he bent and started picking up the laundry while the other three talked about him like he wasn’t there, as usual.

“Isn’t that a little harsh,” Lincoln asked.  “For the guys, I mean.  I don’t think they want to see that.”

“Whatever,” Mike spat, using his foot to lift the bottom of Kyle’s shirt and expose his rear.  “You see how hard he is?  He probably loves it.”

Kyle finished gathering the laundry and scampered down the hall so they couldn’t see his smile.  Mike was right.  He DID love it.  Since he’d worked out the details of his plan he’d gone from dreading these encounters to enjoying them while he could.  It was all like a big role play session.  Kyle pretended to hate it, and he actually was embarrassed, but that only turned him on even more.  The sensation of Hank’s furry muscle against his back, being swallowed in the stocky hunk’s powerful arms while Mike fondled his churning balls, had been a blast.  The timing was perfect, too.  Getting one final chance to strut around in Lincoln’s flowing tank-top was an unexpected bonus, and the party would be a good note for the old regime to go out on.  He’d had to wait over a year for the proper celestial alignments to fall into place, and now the stars were finally right.  It had been fun while it lasted, but it was time for a change.

**********

“Oh...oh no.  You too?!”  Hank froze as soon as he’d stumbled through the door.  He’d been so focused on what was happening to himself that he hadn’t stopped to wonder if his friends might be undergoing a similar experience.  The sight of a pale Mike standing in the living room, his clothes looking slightly larger than they should, answered the question.

The dark-haired hunk’s eyes were wide, his normally arrogant tone bordering on frantic.  “What...what’s happening?!”

“I don’t know!  One minute I was sitting in class and everything was fine, but then out of nowhere I started feeling really weird.  I didn’t notice...this...until it was over, though,” Hank said, his hand shaking as he motioned to the normally straining t-shirt that, while still tight, didn’t cling to his muscled torso as much as it should have.  His jeans seemed to share the excess of space, but more alarming was the way the denim pooled at his ankles.  Giving his friend a quick once-over, it was obvious that Mike was somehow in the same predicament.  The handsome hunk’s pecs didn’t look nearly as prominent, and instead of stretching to the limit around his thick upper arms, the sleeves of his t-shirt barely struggled.  “Dude...are we just going crazy or are we…”

“Shrinking,” Mike finished, swallowing hard.  “But that’s not possible!  No...no way!  It’s only our clothes, right?  Kyle just fucked our laundry up, that’s all.  It’s not…”

“Then why did they fit earlier?!  Nothing was wrong when I left this morning, I’m sure of it.  I would’ve noticed...this…” Hank trailed off when he looked back up at his friend, his stomach dropping.   “Bro...look at your arms, man.  They’re...they’re smaller!”

“You don’t think I noticed?  Fuck!  Look at yours, dude.  Notice anything else missing,” Mike spat, rubbing his arms as if he could force the size back into them.

Hank gasped when he looked down, noticing for the first time the conspicuous lack of hair coating his arms.  “But...but they weren’t like that just a minute ago!  They...they…” he stammered, running his fingers through the remaining dusting that had replaced the ample pelt.  Like Mike’s, the athletic appendages were still solid with muscle, but were already smaller than they’d been just moments before.  “This...this can’t be real!  What about the rest of…” Hank started to lift his shirt so he could inspect the rest of his torso, but as soon as the bottom reached his navel it stopped.  “What the fuck?!” he shrieked, both at the way the shirt remained elevated when he let go, and at the patch of smooth abdomen it exposed.  Instead of a thick carpet that disappeared into his now-loose jeans, all that remained was a fuzzy halo around his belly button and the ghostly memory of a trail that petered out before it reached the elastic band of his boxer briefs. The remaining muscle in his arms strained as he pulled at the shirt, but no amount of effort could get it to lift any higher, or fall back into place.  “What is this?!”

“Fuck!  Mine’s doing it too!”  Mike’s expression was stricken as he tried in vain to wrestle his shirt either fully off or at least back on all the way.  The thin grey cotton had frozen in the same spot as Hank’s, exposing the bottom of a washboard that was significantly less prominent.  Unlike the stocky brunette it appeared to have the same wiry coating, though there was no denying the loss of size.

“What about our jeans?  What if we...NO!  No no no no no no!”  Hank’s shirt was forgotten as he tore his jeans open but only managed to push them down to his much smoother thighs before they froze like his top.  Of more immediate concern were his increasingly baggy red boxer briefs, specifically the extra room in the normally-stuffed pouch.  His fat log and chunky balls should have been clearly outlined, filling the underwear to capacity even if it was slightly too large, not sitting comfortably as a package that looked average at best.  The shedding stud tried to pull on the waist to visually confirm his nightmarish suspicions but the underwear wouldn’t budge at all, leaving him to frantically clutch at his bulge.  “MY DICK IS SHRINKING!”

Without pausing to think about how he’d be stuck with his pants down, Mike tore his own open, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw the familiar lump.  His black boxer briefs looked a size too large as Hank’s did, but unlike his frantic friend the package within felt more or less the same in his hand.  Whether his hand was as large as it had been, though, was a question he didn’t stop to ponder.  “I don’t...I don’t think mine is?  Fuck!  I don’t know!  I can’t tell in these stupid clothes,” he hissed, squirming against the immobile fabric.

“What if we tried each other?  Maybe I can pull yours off and you can do mine?”  Hank shrugged as he made the suggestion.  “I know it sounds dumb but what else are we going to do?!”

“It’s worth a shot,” Mike nodded.  His heart started racing as he watched Hank waddle over, his eyes glued to the smaller bulge that shifted in his friend’s underwear.  He was so used to the other man’s girthy monster that he had to remind himself that he was even looking at Hank, even though it never occurred to him to question why he was so intent on staring in the first place.

“Okay...here we go…” Hank grunted as he tried to lift Mike’s shirt.  He first tried to grab it by the bottom and pull it free, and when that didn’t work he tried to slide his hands up along the other man’s olive torso and get at it from underneath.  While he could run his hands along Mike’s skin he couldn’t get the shirt to move, but the process did confirm what they both feared.  “Holy shit, man...you...you really are smaller,” Hank gasped, his hands gripping a set of pecs that had gone from bulging and prominent to barely present.  Mike wanted to respond, but all he could do was stare, his whole body going crimson as an unexpected wave of insecurity washed over him.  He’d literally never felt anything like it before.  The smug stud couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been genuinely embarrassed, especially in regards to anything having to do with his body, but as soon as Hank touched him the feeling hit him like a punch in the gut.  “Uh...are you okay?  You look like you...oh!”  The formerly-hairy jock laughed when he looked down and saw Mike’s rigid tent, his smile fading when he subsequently saw his own.  Hank hadn’t realized he was hard either, though he was more concerned with the subpar size of his equipment than the source of his arousal.  It looked even smaller than it had just minutes before, but he didn’t have time to ask for Mike’s opinion before the door burst open and a frantic Lincoln stumbled in.

Like the other two, the former hunk was going through an obvious process of reduction.  Instead of showing off the deep valley between his prominent pecs, the blonde pretty-boy’s polo hung loose against the now-modest mounds underneath.  He froze when he saw his partially undressed friends, both because of their smaller size and the fact that Hank had his hands up Mike’s shirt while both of them were hard.  “What the fuck is going on?!”  Instead of deep and booming as it should have been, Lincoln’s voice cracked as he spoke, shooting up and down several octaves.

“We don’t know!  We...we…” Hank blushed when he realized what Lincoln had walked in on and finally pulled his hands free.  “We were trying to see if we could get our clothes off.  They’re stuck like this!”

“What?  How is that...shit!”  Lincoln’s croaking voice emphasized his surprise when he tried to pull his polo free and only succeeded in getting it stuck like the other two.  He was going to learn from their example and leave his pants in place until he finally registered Hank’s diminished package, at which point his jeans were thrust down his thighs.  “How are we getting smaller,” he asked, a stunned look on his face as he hefted  his equipment through his roomier boxers.  “That’s what’s happening, right?  You guys are looking tiny,” he croaked.

“Speak for yourself, man,” Hank shot back.  “Where’d those pecs go, bro?  What about your arms?”

“I know!  I’m not trying to be a dick...I’m freaked out!  We’re fucking shrinking!  We’re...we’re...oh no…” he looked around, his jaw dropping before he stumbled forward and grabbed Hank by the arms, trying not to think about how much smaller the once-brawny limbs felt.  “We’re shrinking!”

“Yeah, we covered that,” Hank said, his cock throbbing even harder as Lincoln’s presence washed over him.

The blonde shook his head.  “No, I mean we aren’t just getting smaller...we’re getting shorter too!  Look around!  Doesn’t everything seem a little...off...to you?”

“What?!  Shit!  I didn’t even...I was so busy thinking about…” he stopped talking, his eyes dropping to Lincoln’s bubble when his friend waddled off to find a pencil and the measuring tape.  “Here, let me,” he offered, stumbling over to make a mark on the doorframe as the blonde stood against it.

Lincoln’s stomach dropped when he stepped back to take the measurement.  He gasped and backed away, the tape clattering to the floor when he saw the 5’8” total.  “Oh god...that’s...that’s not possible…I’m...I’ve been a flat six-foot for years!” he insisted.  They were both so focused on the loss of height that neither noticed how Lincoln’s voice no longer cracked, but instead came out as a high, light chirp.

“Do me!  Do me!” Hank insisted, practically throwing himself against the frame.  Based on how his view of Lincoln hadn’t changed he already guessed what he’d find, but he needed to know for sure.  He groaned when his friend read the 5’4” tally, trying to wrap his head around just how short he’d become.  He’d always lamented his lack of height, and now, on top of losing the majority of his bulk, he’d officially become the shortest guy in any room.  And also the least endowed.  In just the time it had taken to measure each other his cock had continued to dwindle, shrinking to the point where it was no longer outlined as it pressed out the pouch of his boxer briefs.

“Mike...get over here,” Lincoln said, his eyes going wide when he finally heard his new voice.  He cleared his throat and tried again, getting the same result.  “We need to take your measurements.”  Mike stumbled over in a daze, his body purple with embarrassment and trembling in the blonde’s grip.  It was so out of character for the confident hunk that Lincoln momentarily forgot about his own state as he tried to calm his friend down.  “Dude, take a breath.  I don’t know what’s happening, but we’ll figure this out.”

“It...it...it...it’s not...th..th..that...I...I don’t know wh...wh...what’s happening…” Mike stuttered, his hands hovering in front of his tented underwear as if they could conceal anything.

“5’6”,” Hank said, his tone flat.  He’d been pushed so far past the point of shock that he’d entered a state of calm denial about whether any of this was even real.  “Four inches from each of us.  No wonder we didn’t notice right away...to each other we still seemed the same height.”

“Bu...bu...bu...but how is an...an...any of this happening?  Th...th...th...this is...isn’t poss...possible,” Mike spat, trembling as he looked down at his smaller arms.  They were still toned and defined, sporting modest little biceps, but now rested closer to “lean” than “built.”

“Magic.”

All three of them jumped at the booming, unexpected voice, their jaws dropping at the nearly-naked giant slowly descending the stairs.  The man was massive, standing well over six feet tall and with so much muscle he almost had to walk sideways to fit in the staircase.  A set of heaping, shelf-like pecs hovered over a shredded waist, boxed in by broad, cannonball shoulders and chiseled, piston arms.  The tree-trunk thighs that rubbed together with each step were as big as each of the shrunken jocks’ waists, with a massive pendulum of a cock and hefty balls swaying in front of them.  Covering it all was a soft coating of copper fur that matched the man’s short hair and the stubble coating his prominent jaw, but it wasn’t until they recognized the remains of the tattered, too-small tank-top that they realized who they were looking at.

“Ky...Kyle…?” Lincoln chirped, his cock surging along with his friends’.  The spell holding their clothes in place faded before the giant could respond, eliciting a collective gasp as shirts fell into place and oversized pants and underwear hit the floor.

“This is a good look for you guys,” the former waif said, his deepened voice rattling in the chests of the shrunken trio.

“Bu...but...ho...ho...how…”

“How tall am I now?  6’5”, give or take,” Kyle interrupted, tousling Mike’s hair.  “The four inches you each contributed are much appreciated.”   He beamed down at the diminished trio over his slab of a chest, his inflated cock slowly twitching.  “Or did you mean how did I do this?  Take a look at those clothes you’re wearing.”

All three began frantically peeling out of their remaining clothing, but Hank’s investigation was cut short as soon as he was fully nude.  “WHAT THE FUCK?!  GIVE ME BACK MY DICK!” he cried, his face going pale, then crimson at the sight of his three inch rod.  It was a pitiful shadow of his formerly eight-inch beast, as were the petite balls underneath.

“Don’t worry, I’m happy to share,” Kyle purred, batting his hardening club against the short man’s nub.  “I mean, look at yourselves!  What would you even do with something like this on a body like that?”

There was a long pause as the three former-studs inspected their altered frames.  As they’d feared, the majority of their gym-built bulk had vanished, but they were partially relieved to discover that it hadn’t all disappeared.  They were still cut and sported an impressive amount of definition, but there would no longer be any mistaking them for a trio of jocks going forward.  While they were still toned and athletic they’d gone from hunks to twunks, and though Hank’s had shrunk the most, Lincoln and Mike discovered a few inches missing from each of their now below-average endowments.

They were still an attractive bunch, just more along the lines of “cute” than “hot.”  Hank’s once-furry frame only sported a small patch in the center of his little pecs, along with a faint dusting on his calves and forearms.  His facial features were still comically masculine, but instead of accentuating his brawny build they just looked out of place sitting on top of a compact little frame complete with plump, bouncing cheeks and a pitifully small cock.  The same went for Lincoln and Mike, still a pretty-boy and still smoldering, respectively, but whose handsome faces now sat on lean, wiry bodies with the kind of cocks they used to mock in the showers.

It was Lincoln who finally broke the silence.  “Wait...what are these symbols,” he asked, holding up his oversized polo and blushing when he heard his dainty chirp of a voice.  On the inside of the collar was drawn a small, ornate design, with similar glyphs being found in his shorts, socks and underwear.

“Those are how you were able to make your generous contributions,” Kyle said, motioning to his recently acquired physique.  “They pulled all this lovely mass from you and transferred it to me, along with a few specific donations tailored to each of you.”  He cleared his throat and grinned at Lincoln, running a large finger along the shortened blonde’s collar bone.  “Thank you for the lovely new voice,” he said, his tone a deep, seductive rumble.  “I’m already a fan of your new one.  And this...this bad boy,” he laughed, batting his now-rigid monster against Hank’s side, “came mostly from Hank.  Gotta say, I like the little one better on you.  Really draws the attention to these cakes,” he said, giving the former bear’s plump cheeks a swat.  He flashed a fake, sympathetic smile when Hank blushed and reached down to tweak the other man’s little balls with a pair of fingers.  “Don’t worry...maybe you’ll grow a pair some day?  Eh, who am I kidding.  No you won’t,” he shrugged, letting go and turning his attention to Mike.  The formerly smug stud was still purple with embarrassment even as he stood staring at Kyle with undisguised hunger.  His hands hovered in front of his four-inch poker, but he stared at his naked friends as if he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to cover himself or start jerking off.  “And we can thank Mike here for this overwhelming Charisma.”  He cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips as he looked down at the now-awkward man, his expression softening.  “Awww, what’s wrong, champ?  Feeling shy all of a sudden?  You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he said, his voice dripping with a familiar condescension.  “Here, let me make a deposit in the spank bank for you.  Drink it in, big guy,” Kyle sneered, laughing at Mike’s lustful whimper as he grabbed the remains of Lincoln’s ill-fitting tank-top and tore it free.  “You know, since you seem so uncomfortable all of a sudden we should really help you get past that.  Don’t worry...if you ask nicely, maybe we’ll give you your clothing privileges back in a few weeks.”

“But...you can’t leave us like this!  What’re we supposed to do?!”  Even as he protested, Hank’s eyes kept darting back and forth between all of them, a bead of liquid forming at the tip of his tiny cock.

Kyle swallowed the shrunken twunk with his meaty new arms, wedging his inflated cock between them.  Hank’s head barely reached the center of his furry shelf, and the diminished jock had to crane his neck to meet Kyle’s piercing gaze.  “I think it’s pretty clear what you WANT to do,” the reborn Adonis purred, giving his friend’s plump cheeks a squeeze.  He grinned at the way Hank spasmed and ground his tiny cock against him, and at how small the other man’s formerly massive hands felt reflexively clutching his broad back.  “I mean, let’s be honest.  You’ve all been curious for a long time, right?  The way you’d always take any opportunity to make me prance around here with nothing on?  How you were always getting handsy to ‘humiliate’ me?”  He spun Hank around so the other two could see their friend’s oozing little rod as he stroked a massive hand along the former beefcake’s tight, wiry torso.  “Thought it was time we ripped that bandaid off.  Don’t worry, though.  It’s actually quite fun once you get used to it.  And because I’m a generous sort, unlike the position I was in, you three have each other to play with.  And me, too,” he said, bending down to kiss Hank on the top of the head.  “Besides...after the first few parties you guys won’t even stop to think about how little you have on.”

“Bu...bu...but people ca...ca...can’t see us like this!”

Kyle let go of Hank, loving how the shrunken jock instinctively drifted over to Lincoln.  The freshly formed twinks were in each other's arms seemingly before either of them even realized it, but they kept clinging to each other once they did.  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Kyle said, taking Mike by the arm.  The hirsute giant beamed at the way the couch groaned beneath him as he dropped onto it and easily pulled the dark-haired man onto his lap.  Mike gasped at the unfamiliar sensation of being so effortlessly manhandled, his toned arms confusingly wrapping around Kyle.  He was mortified, but instead of pulling away his instincts had shifted to a desire for protection.  The thought of his small, naked frame sitting on Kyle’s massive lap while Hank and Lincoln watched was embarrassing, but that embarrassment only made him press deeper against the warm wall of hairy muscle.  This furthered his humiliation, which increased his desire to be close to Kyle in a self-sustaining loop.  And before Mike could even begin to process that fact one hand was drifting through the curly, copper forest on Kyle’s chest while the other stroked absently at the brawny man’s fat log.

“See, you three aren’t the only problem on this campus,” Kyle continued as he rubbed Mike’s back.  “Your bros that come over here all the time?  All the uptight professors?  And the ignorant townies?  Something has to give, fellas, and it isn’t going to be me.  Not anymore.  This whole place...the school, the town... needs a good shakeup.  Which is where you boys come in.  I’m honestly not sure on all the specifics, magic is more of an art than a science, but, if this worked the way it was supposed to, everyone will still remember the way you were.  They’ll still remember the trio of alpha jocks and your previously bigger, buff bodies.  But they’ll also remember that you did this for them.  You guys took one for the team to help them get past all those silly, repressive inhibitions.  And that’s exactly what they’ll do each time one of you eager beavers helps them explore.  Their curiosity will be focused on the three of you at first, but as time goes on and those walls crumble, that desire will spread, and spread, and spread,” Kyle sighed.  “I have no idea what the end result will look like, but I cannot wait to find out.  My days of being the only openly gay guy in the room can’t be over soon enough.”

Kyle paused, his smile growing when he realized the others had stopped listening at some point.  Instead, Mike’s hands had gone from absently toying with his thick club to diligently working it, while Lincoln and Hank were focused solely on each other.  The short, former bear was still wrapped in Lincoln’s lean arms, but the way he squirmed and writhed, and the way the lithe blonde rolled his hips, made it clear they were both already experimenting with what their new bodies could do.

Kyle gave a satisfied nod as he shifted Mike on his lap, the smaller man’s slender legs wrapping around his solid, tapering waist to fully face him.  He relished the look of trembling, wide-eyed desire that had replaced the one-time hunk’s arrogant smirk when Mike’s hands clamped onto his forested pecs.  His own meaty paw reached down to grasp their disproportionately sized cocks and he pressed them together, stroking along to the sound of Lincoln’s chirping new moans while Hank’s tiny cock spurted.  The shrunken brunette stood with a slack-jawed, ecstatically dazed expression as the blonde’s piercing new wail reached a fever pitch.  In Kyle’s lap, Mike was panting after only a few pumps, the stud-no-more’s impressive stamina having vanished along with his overbearing arrogance.  The expanded hulk let go and leaned back, flexing his massive new arms behind his head to reinforce Mike’s new perspective as the other man’s now-dainty hands took a turn.  “Well...I guess those days are over already, aren’t they?”