Someone Else's Shoes (Patreon)

Matt sighed, folding his muscled arms over his chest as he leaned against the bathroom counter.  The brunette’s handsome features were crestfallen, his normally bright eyes now dark and brooding above his pouting lips.  The source of his sour mood stood under a warm stream on the other side of the steamy glass, Owen’s equally fit physique only slightly obscured while the smug stud lathered himself up.  “You know I love you, man…but why do you have to be such a dick sometimes?  That dude was just minding his own business.”

The sandy-haired hunk’s groan was audible over the hissing shower.  “Oh my god, bro!  Just let it go already,” Owen barked.  “Did you follow me in here just so you could keep yelling at me?  I told you…I didn’t think the guy could actually hear us.”

“Hear YOU,” Matt corrected.  “Don’t try to pull me into this.  Also, what makes you think I want to hear that kind of trash in the first place?  We’re not in fucking high school anymore.”

“Sorry dad,” Owen said with an exaggerated whine.  “I didn’t realize twenty eight was too old to still have some fun.”

“Should I be worried about your definition of that word,” Matt asked, letting out another frustrated sigh.

“So I made fun of how a dude looked in the locker room and he accidentally heard me.  What’s the big deal?”  Owen cranked the water off and slid the door open, giving his friend an unobstructed view of his sculpted, glistening frame.  The plump heft of the broad shouldered blonde’s perfect pecs was accentuated by the thin streams trickling between them, the flowing beads of water following the channels of definition on the jock’s superior physique.  Though it had a tendency to frustrate those around him, Owen’s smug attitude wasn’t entirely undeserved.  On top of his expertly-honed muscle, the athletic jock was handsome, hung, and oozing with effervescent charm, at least when he wasn’t acting like an immature teenager.  Even then, it was that very boyish nature that further sucked people into the hunk’s orbit, making him seem fun and outgoing on top of being gorgeous.  And most of the time, he was.  But Owen’s problem was that he’d never been anything other than slightly above average at worst.  Even before he’d filled out in adolescence and had grown into the enviable body he now possessed, the blonde Adonis had never had to give himself a second thought.  He was average height, he had at least a passably intelligent head on his shoulders, he was straight; the world was his for the taking.  After so many years of basking at the top of the food chain, of piling up Varsity trophies and hopping from bed to bed, it was a miracle that Owen hadn’t become more than an occasional monster, though at the moment Matt found it hard to be grateful.

The fed-up brunette was also fit, hung and handsome, yet he’d managed to avoid a ballooning ego.  True, his above-average attributes were slightly less stellar than the sterling stud’s, but it wasn’t as if Matt ever lacked for attention or failed to hold his own in a crowd.  It was only when Owen was around that he seemed uptight by comparison, that his chiseled features and well-built body suddenly dimmed.  “It’s a big deal because you hurt a dude’s feelings for no reason!  Did you see the guy’s face?  He was humiliated,” Matt said, handing the dripping hunk a towel.

Owen’s fat cock and heavy balls wagged back and forth, his powerful arms and tapering washboard flexing as he ran the towel through his wavy, golden mane.  “I already said I didn’t mean to,” he grunted, running the towel down his pecs and around his smooth torso.  “But what was I going to do?  Go apologize to him?  That would’ve just made it weirder.”  Owen let out a long, low breath as he hefted his girthy package and patted his perky, granite cheeks dry, tossing the towel over his shoulder after giving each meaty thigh a pass.  “Of course I feel bad that I hurt the guy’s feelings.  But I’m sure it’s not the first time it happened…I mean, you saw him.  He’ll get over it.”

Matt let out a shocked laugh and gave Owen’s solid rear a rough swat as the blonde passed.  “Dude!  What the fuck is wrong with you?  You’re STILL doing it!”

The blonde jock shrugged.  “I don’t know what to tell you, bud.  Want to take me over your knee and spank me some more,” he asked, turning to face his roommate as he ran a slow, seductive hand down his stomach.

The blushing brunette looked away, exasperated.  This kind of casual exposure was perfectly natural for them, and the fact that he was still clad in gym shorts and tank-top while Owen stood in all his glory wasn’t the source of Matt’s discomfort.  “I just wish you’d think a little more before opening your mouth sometimes.  I know it’s not easy for you, but imagine how it would feel if you were in that dude’s shoes.”

“Whatever you say, dad,” Owen groaned, rolling his eyes.  And although the smug stud had no intentions of actually following through on his friend’s request, he found his thoughts increasingly returning to the locker room and the cruel encounter.  Owen had been honest when he’d said that he hadn’t intended to hurt the man’s feelings, but neither was Matt wrong in suggesting that the arrogant Adonis could, perhaps, be a bit more empathetic.  It was a status quo that the handsome jock had always struggled with, an effortless malice born from the strength of his pretty-boy privilege, the destruction left in the wake of his passing no less significant simply because he “didn’t mean to.”  Jilted hook ups, unfortunately featured friends, strangers like the man at the gym; all had felt the force of Owen’s thoughtless behavior.

And it wasn’t as if the sculpted stud was above feeling genuine regret over his actions, the question was simply one of duration.  Normally, Owen quickly moved on to more pleasant emotions without hesitating, but that evening the sensation lingered.  The blonde beefcake went to bed with a pit in his perfect stomach, his guilt-infested dreams holding him beneath the surface of slumber until he felt like he was drowning.  Visions of condescending, sneering expressions filled his sleep, the sound of quiet chuckles and not-so-quiet comments about his appearance worming into his ears.  No matter where he tried to go the mocking crowd followed, with a repetitive, droning chant growing louder and louder.  Though the voice was slightly familiar, Owen couldn’t make out the words, or even if they were words at all, and he couldn’t decide if the strange, gutural syllables were better or worse than the smug smiles and upturned noses.  Not that he had to choose.  Both came at him in abundance, his brain and body refusing to cooperate whenever he tried to muster a defense.  Try as he might, Owen could neither give voice to his protests, nor could he even see the body he tried to justify.  Whenever he looked down there was only a void, an empty space where his fit frame should have been.  He could still feel his arms and legs and torso, he just couldn’t see the thing that everyone else mocked.  The thing that he was becoming.

“FUCK!”  Owen shot up in bed as if the expletive pulled him along in its wake.  The blonde was sweat-soaked and wild-eyed, his heart racing as he struggled to get his bearings.  Instead of the usual temporal teleportation brought on by sleep, Owen felt like he’d been trapped in the nightmare for days.  His ears still rang with condescending whispers, with ominous comments about the “shame” of it all that made the growing sense of dread cling like his damp sheets.  “Oooookay…maybe Matt has a point,” he stammered to himself, the familiar sight of his bedroom doing little to ease the lingering anxiety.  He took a deep breath and tossed the sheet aside, wanting nothing more than to leave the bed and memories of the nightmare behind.  “If I see that guy again I’ll have to apologiooOOHHH!”

Owent was cut off as he abruptly stumbled, landing on the ground with a loud thud.  When he’d kicked his legs over the edge of the bed and attempted to stand, there’d been an unexpected gulf between the floor and the bottom of his feet.  His immediate thought was that he’d merely misstepped due to the terrible night’s sleep, but, as he staggered upright, he realized the solution wasn’t nearly so simple.

“What…what the fuck…” he gasped, wondering if he was still dreaming after all.  As impossible as it should have been, his legs were somehow shorter.  A frantic glance at the mirror on the back of his door revealed an upper body that remained unchanged, but from the waist down he’d undergone a significant reduction.  His legs hadn’t become freakishly short, they were still within the bounds of probability for an adult, only now they were drastically out of proportion with his torso and arms.  Nor did it help that they seemed to have widened as they’d shrunk, their thicker, meatier proportions flowing around to the once-perky, now-plump, cheeks that loomed at his lower back.  Owen winced as he pinched himself, the bright stab of pain confirming that he was wide awake, which made what he felt all the more confusing.

“Wait…what?  That’s not…” he stammered, his stomach dropping as he noticed how much skin he was compressing between thumb and forefinger.  He’d been so busy gawking at his thickened thighs that he’d failed to note how his midsection had begun to expand in a similar fashion, his tight, tapering abs having almost vanished entirely.  There was still a faint outline of the once-impressive washboard but, as he watched, the remaining quartet became a ghostly duo that melted away altogether.  “Shit!  No!  Come back here,” he yelped, clutching at the burgeoning belly.

Fearing he was in the midst of a medical emergency, Owen stumbled out of his room in search of help.  He winced again as he felt the way his altered body moved, how heavy his shortened steps seemed to be and how things rubbed together that previously remained apart.  Already he felt like a stranger in his own body, a dissociation that carried over to his friend when he saw a sleepy Matt standing in the kitchen.  It was a familiar sight, and the brief-clad brunette was as sculpted and strapping as ever, but Owen suddenly felt like he was looking at his roommate for the first time.  His altered perspective didn’t help, the fact that he now looked slightly up at the man he’d looked in the eye for at least a decade, only it went much deeper.  The shortened blonde felt a punch of envy-tainted lust like he’d never felt before, the novel sensation of insecurity slicing through his smug sense of self like a knife.

Matt turned from the counter at the sound of the awkward, rapid footsteps, but instead of panicking at Owen’s altered appearance all he did was grin.  “Whoa!  That’s kicking in fast,” he said, his sleepy smile growing as he eyed his flustered friend.

“I know!” Owen cried, his heart racing as his eyes lingered on Matt’s stuffed, cherry briefs.  “I woke up and I just started…wait…what do you mean?  What’s kicking in fast,” he asked when his friend’s words finally registered.

Matt’s expression went from amused to confused.  “Dude, why are you acting surprised?  You knew this was coming.  You JUST went to the doctor like a week ago and got it confirmed.”

Owent swayed on his widened legs, feeling like the floor was suddenly pitching beneath him.  “What?  No I didn’t!  I haven’t been to the doctor in…in…” he shook his head and hesitated, his thoughts becoming increasingly fluid.  “Got what confirmed?”

“I forget what it’s called,” Matt shrugged.  “That weird reverse adult puberty thing.  Instead of going from awkward to hot, your body randomly decides to go back in the other direction.  It’s crazy rare or whatever, but not dangerous.  And, I mean, at least you had a good run, right?”  Matt reached out to tousle Owen’s hair, emphasizing the fact that the blonde now topped out around 5’5” instead of his original six-foot stature.

“What?!  No!  That’s not…that’s not a thing!  I’m…I’m…oh god…” he sputtered, his eyes going wide when he saw the golden snow drifting from his scalp.  Matt’s rough rubbing had dislodged a large chunk of his once-wavy hair, and Owen’s frantic fumblings succeeded in loosening the rest.  With the unfamiliar sensation of air against skin, the balding blonde darted into the bathroom, his jaw dropping at the sight of his reflection.  As he’d feared, his formerly thick mane had thinned, his hairline having receded nearly to the top of his skull, but it was much worse.  As he’d been talking to Matt the changes had continued, and now Owen truly felt like he was looking at a stranger as he gawked at his unfamiliar new features.  Like the rest of his body his face appeared to be filling out, with his razor cheeks and lantern jaw simultaneously growing soft and full, while the rest of his formerly-symmetrical features no longer seemed to fit.  His eyes were spaced just a bit off, his nose appeared to have shortened as his face filled out around it, and his perfect teeth now seemed slightly too large, with a pronounced gap between the front pair.  Even Owen’s ears betrayed him, with the formerly unassuming appendages now jutting out to the sides.  To the no-longer-pretty-boy’s perspective he’d become hideous, but the reality was that he’d simply gone from “stereotypically stunning” to “awkwardly cute”.

“This can’t be happening…this can’t be happening…” Owen mumbled, absently wiping at the strands of hair clinging to his bloating body.  He’d continued to inflate, officially erasing most of his definition as he sported a meaty new midsection.  His once-chiseled pecs now rested like a thick, heavy shelf, while his arms hung like logs at the sides, and while Owen could still feel muscle beneath the impossibly acquired mass, it had been buried beneath a soft, ample layer.  Which, to his growing horror, had begun to sprout.  “Oh come on!  Not this too,” Owen groaned when he discovered that the golden strands on his cresting gut weren’t the leftover remains from his scalp, but a fresh new layer to his humiliation.  The silky strands spread like wildfire as he watched, coating his squat, stocky new body from the neck down.  Chest, shoulders, arms, legs, belly, back, rear; in a matter of minutes, everything was coated in a dense, curly layer.  It occurred to Owen even then that there’d be no hiding the unwanted pelt, that it would be tufting out of shirts and shorts like he had a sweatsuit on underneath.

“You’re lookin’ more ‘teddy bear’ than ‘grizzly bear’,” Matt said from the doorway, sending a shiver through Owen’s furry new frame when he ran a hand down his friend’s broadened back.

The burly little bear-in-the-making spun, glaring up at the other man.  “It’s not fuUnNYy,” he cried, his voice cracking like brittle timber.  Owen’s face went crimson and he cleared his throat to try again.  “Do I sound funny,” he asked, the cracking warble as prominent as ever.  “What the hell?!  Why is this happening?!”

It was taking all of Matt’s willpower to keep his laughter in check at the sound of Owen’s new voice.  “Hey, come on…it’s not that bad.  This just makes you unique,” he shrugged.

Owen quivered with both lust and frustration at the sound of Matt’s smooth, deep voice.  The proximity of the handsome hunk’s nearly-naked frame was like a furnace, the brunette’s lingering beauty now an object of desire on several levels.  Owen was used to being the one desired, not the one doing the desiring, and that was a more jarring transition than the fact that his affections were now being directed towards another man.  “I don’t want to be unique,” Owen croaked, sending a ripple through his thickened frame when he stomped a foot.

“That’s probably not going to help, then,” Matt said, nodding down.

Owen whimpered when he followed his friends eyes and saw what had become of his formerly hefty equipment.  Instead of dangling, the rigid organ now topped out at just under five inches, but it was thicker than ever.  Too thick.  The pudgy little pole was nearly as wide as it was long, with an equally imposing set of hairy, churning orbs below.  “HHHHOOOoooOOohhhHH!” Owen howled when he grabbed it, a lightning bolt of pure pleasure ripping through him.  The unwieldy organ started oozing like a faucet, and Owen knew that another pump would be all it took to push him over the edge.

“At least that’s fun,” Matt chuckled, squeezing his friend’s hairy shoulder.  “Remember the good ol’ days?  Getting hard at the drop of a hat and popping off with a hair-trigger?”

Owen couldn’t stop himself.  Even the act of letting go was enough to push his sensitive new cock over the edge, and he was helpless to do anything other than let out a grunting warble as he sprayed uncontrollably under Matt’s amused gaze.  The sensation of his friend’s hand on his shoulder while it happened was both humiliating and comforting, as was the handsome hunk’s condescending smile when it was over.  “Oh…oh god…is that…is that just going to happen all the time now?!”

Matt let his hand linger.  “Probably?  But, whatever, dude.  It’s no big deal.  It’s just who you are now.  Everyone knew it was coming, so they’ll understand.”

Owen didn’t see how that was possible when he didn’t understand it himself.  He’d gone from a smoldering stud to a balding, beefy little bear with legs that were too stubby, a fat ass, and a cock that now had a mind of its own.  Even if he didn’t have to worry about it going hard and popping off all the time, Owen knew he’d have enough difficulty simply trying to obscure the girthy grapefruit bulge, and all of that was before he even took into account his cracking new voice and awkward features.   “I can’t let people see me like this,” he finally said, his eager cock only softening slightly.

“You don’t really have a choice, bud.  I know it has to be hard going from this to that,” Matt said, motioning between them, “but you’ll get used to it.  Of course people are going to stare and talk shit, but that’s to be expected, right?  And, listen…I can see the way you’re looking at me, and I know shit got all rewired in there in terms of what gets you going now, so whenever you need a deposit for the spank bank you just let me know.  I’m not going to leave you hanging.  If you’re looking for a handle to crank or something to suck on, what’s mine is yours, you know?”

Owen heard the humiliating offer, but he was more focused on the first part of Matt’s statement.  Something about “staring” and “talking shit” sparked a memory, and for a brief, terrifying moment, the former-pretty-boy was perfectly aware of what happened.  He remembered the heavyset man in the locker room and realized why the source of the droning chant in his dream had sounded so familiar.  He’d only heard the man speak briefly, and from a distance, but there was no mistaking the nightmare voice as belonging to him.  Owen didn’t know how it was possible, but he knew his current circumstances weren’t due to a “medical condition” at all, but something far more powerful.  What he could do about it, and whether he’d ever find the man again, though, were equally beyond him, especially as the memory began to fade.  He tried to cling to it, knowing it was the only possible key to his salvation, but as stared at Matt’s perfect muscle, as his cock throbbed, his attention shifted to the latter part of his friend’s offer.  “Did you really just offer to let me suck your dick,” he croaked, surprised to find himself excited by the possibility instead of rejecting it outright.

“Think of it as practice,” Matt said, giving his bulge a squeeze.  “No offense, but you’re probably going to need to rely on skill more than you used to.  Not that the dudes aren’t going to tear that fat little ass up, but, you know…”

“Hey!  I was…am…plenty skilled, dick,” Owen huffed, puffing out his thickened, hairy chest.

“Oh yeah?” Before his friend could react, Matt reached down and gave the shortened man’s fat log a few quick tugs, eliciting another cracking wail and copious eruption.  “Unless they’re looking for something to drink, that’s not leaving anyone satisfied.”

Owen felt like he should protest, but he was too overcome by the lingering buzz and the blissful sensation of Matt’s hands on his naked, hairy body.  He needed more of it, and his raging hormones needed it now.  More than figuring out his immediate future, what he’d wear, how he’d be received in public, what the changes meant for his social life, Owen just needed release.

“Oookay, jumping right in,” Matt laughed when his friend reached out and slipped a hand into his briefs.  He folded his arms behind his head and flexed his sculpted physique while the now-stocky stud pulled his briefs down, his long, thick cock slowly twitching to life.

“You just did me,” Owen shrugged, gazing with that same lustful envy at the stunning, perfect body he’d never thought twice about before.  “Only fair that I return the favor.”