Underoos (Patreon)

It’s only for one night and as a university student I was on a budget, so my first option every year is looking in the thrift shops. Perhaps there isn’t an outright costume to buy, but at least some weird piece of clothing to build your costume around. I immediately hit gold in the Salvation Army thrift shop. They had put together a table with costume kits. Some were more of an idea that you could DIY into something, but my eyes were on a ready to wear Spiderman kit. It was perfect, as it didn’t try to look like a high tech Stark industries suit, but rather the home made, first version. Whoever made this killed it. It was practically screen accurate, though perhaps not that hard when it should look crappy and most pieces were just plain, unmodified clothes. The slightly too long hoodie and high socks even made me look smaller and younger than I really am.

Actual Halloween was fine I guess. After a few solo cups everything was a blur, as could be expected. I got lots of compliments for the outfit though, I remember that. When I woke up in my dorm I felt as I deserved. Headache, muscle ache and clammy. I had fallen asleep in costume, so that explained why I was both hot and thirsty, and it smelled of sweat and beer breath in the balaclava. Yanking it off, and getting some sorely needed fresh, stale dorm air, I noticed that Steve wasn’t back even though it was 7:33. I guess he got lucky. Or unlucky and was sobering in an ER or a ditch.

I decided to text him after I had a shower and a change of clothes. Now the next part played out as the Spiderman movie, in whatever reboot Peter Parker is discovering himself in the mirror. With only the balaclava off I could see something was off. My features were more distinct, like I had lost weight, but for some reason that didn’t really register until I had the hoodie and shirt off. I was toned, buff even. I wasn’t overweight to begin with, but three-dimensional abs was nothing I had ever had before, nor well defined pecs, those diagonal junk-lines or small muscle dots on the side of the chest. What the hell.

I undressed completely. The entire body was toned, slimmed, firm, lithe, whatever word you want. I looked amazing. There wasn’t much bulging going on when I flexed my biceps, but way better than a day earlier. Right away I was thinking of the costume. It had to be the costume that did this to me. Fuck, I looked sexy. Talk about a bargain, no, treat!

I went and had a shower, more confident than ever. I didn’t meet anyone else to or from the showers, which for the first time here was a let down. I couldn’t stop feeling myself in the shower. I didn’t manage to stick to any wall and I couldn’t shoot any webs from my hands, neither for lack of trying. The shower jerk off was amazing though, and I could shoot more sticky stuff than ever before I think.

To my surprise Steve was back in the dorm when I got back from the showers. In all my scenarios for him he would show up around noon at the earliest. He was about to say something, but didn’t get further than “I..” when he interrupted himself and just stared at me. Steve had seen me wearing only a towel and flip flops more than anyone else in the world, so he knew that what he saw was not normal, or even possible.

Some “dude, what the fuck”s later I had sufficiently convinced him that I had no idea what had actually happened to me, and that my only theory so far was to have been bitten by a radioactive costume. We tested sticking to walls and shooting webs again, to no success, and Steve helpfully threw a book in the back of my head as a surprise to check for any spider sense. Nope on that too, and it didn’t improve my headache.

We decided to play it cool and not mention any of this to anyone else. I would simply say “thanks for finally noticing” to anyone who would be amazed at my new body. We did discuss a bit what to do with the costume, and finally decided I should put it on again for a second night. Would I gain muscle? Would I gain abilities? Would I revert back? All possibilities I was OK with. We discussed if I had to be drunk this night as well, but decided to test without alcohol.

As the morning before I woke up early, hot and clammy, and rushed out of bed to see the results. Immediately I realized the clothes didn’t fit as well anymore. I pulled off the mask and stared at the mirror in disbelief. It was still me, still in better shape than ever before, but way thinner and looking like the lower end of high school age, if even that. “What the hell”. My voice hadn’t even broken. Trick, after all.