The Return of the Jockstrap - Part 2

Joel dreamed. He dreamed of a body he no longer recognized. He dreamed of surging flesh and bulging muscles, of impossible circumference and incredible length. He dreamed of fur-covered flesh slamming into thick slabs of meat, of sweat, spit, and oceans of cum. He dreamed that he stood in the center of it all, a monument to masculine excess and hedonism.

And then Joel awoke.

Like most mornings, Joel stared at the sun’s rays and cursed their ability to sneak through the slats of his window blinds. Then he tried to roll over so he was facing the opposite wall--a futile gesture, as even he knew the morning sun would put a stop to any possibility of extra shut-eye.

Only this morning when he tried to roll over his body assailed him with a cacophony of alien signals. Everything felt odd--he felt his belly press against a flat surface, he felt cool air on his feet and ankles, and an odd warmth and pressure on his arms, neck, and groin. It all felt...wrong.

Joel rolled back and stared at the ceiling for a moment before he whipped off his blanket and tossed it to the side. Then he rolled to the other side of his bed and promptly fell off of it with a loud thud.

Everything about the move was unexpected. Every other morning he would have simply planted his feet on the floor and gotten up in a single fluid motion. Now, he was lying face first on the floor. But stranger still was the loud noise that had occurred during the impact--as though someone had dropped something very, very heavy right where he fell.

Joel tried to push himself up, but stopped short as soon as his hand came into his field of vision. The lithe, dextrous digits he remembered didn’t sprout from his tiny limbs any longer. Instead, he saw massive sausages attached to a hand that was better described as a paw the size of a dinner plate. Attached to it was an arm that looked as large around as Joel’s former thigh.

Alarmed, Joel pushed himself to his knees and then hauled himself upright with a grunt. Then peering down Joel saw only a vast expanse of hairy flesh rather than his legs and feet. In fact, he could barely see past his chest, which stuck out like an enormous shelf beneath a neck that seemed to no longer exist.

It took a few moments for what Joel was seeing to sink in. He was no longer in his body. He was occupying something much, much larger. He was huge.

He looked around the room to find it wasn’t just his waistline than had expanded--everything seemed slightly different. Another few moments later Joel realized he was looking at everything from a slightly different angle. A slightly higher angle.

Joel turned to the full-length mirror on the door to his dorm room and nearly screamed. His reflection didn’t fit in the mirror he was so enormous. All he could see was a jowly double chin, the center of the twin mounds of flesh that made up his chest, and the middle strip of an enormous, hairy belly, complete with a baseball-sized navel. Below that was dark and hard to see at the angle Joel now peered from, but the shadows there seemed to preview something as large as the rest of him.

Standing there, dumbstruck, he ran a massive paw over his titanic torso. He found the whole experience strange. Joel expected to have difficulty heaving his enormous bulk, even lifting his ham-like arms, but instead every movement felt effortless, just as easy as it was yesterday. No, instead, what Joel noted was the differing perspective, how much more of the room he occupied and how different everything seemed by being just a few inches taller. The only weight he truly felt was at his extremities: at the tips of his tits, ass, and belly as gravity constantly tugged downward while his skin pulled them back into place. It was a constant sensation of motion.

But none were as weighty, or as gratifying, as the one between his massive thighs. Joel couldn’t see over the crest of his own mass, and to his dismay he found he could neither reach from a standing position, but he could feel the incredible mass that strained to escape the jockstrap’s mesh.

The jockstrap. He was still wearing it. He reached behind and found that he could still grasp elastic band that cut into his elephantine form and encircled his waist. Or perhaps more accurately sunk into the deep crevice that defined the massive spare tire that encircled his waist and surged into his sagging gut.

Joel knew instinctively that this was the jockstraps fault. He tried to grasp it but found it difficult to slip his thick digits between his soft flesh and the elastic band. He spent a few more minutes vainly trying to find purchase when a loud knock on the door caused him to freeze.

Lumbering to the door, Joel peered out the small peephole to see who was there. It was the linebackers he’d spied in the room from yesterday--the ones he’d stolen the jockstrap from. He froze again and the bigger one brought his own ham-like arm back to the door to bang on it again.

“Hey, open up!” He shouted.

Fuck. If he kept that up he’d wake up the whole dorm! Joel didn’t know what to do, but realized he had to keep these two from waking up his neighbours. He reached down with a hand that could now easily engulf the entire doorknob and then started to turn it open.

As soon as the latch clicked he felt the door swing up with enough force to cause even Joel to stumble back into the room, his hugely obese body wobbling as he tried to prevent himself from tumbling on his enormous ass.

“Good morning,” said the smaller one, although the difference was slight. They were both huge, having to turn slightly just to fight through the doorway. They barreled through with one taking up station in a corner while the other closed the door behind him. It was a small dorm room designed for even smaller students, and even though each of the occupants was in separate corners of the room they were all so large they weren’t much more than an arm’s length from each other.

“Looks like we found my jock strap,” the smaller one spoke again. Small was perhaps misleading as he was easily 350 pounds. The larger one seemed closer to 400. Both had buzzed haircuts and equal-length beards that seemed to flow down their necks and presumably continue beneath the enormous, stained t-shirts both wore.

Joel could only guess how much he weighed, but he could tell from the way he looked down at both of them he was at least taller than they were.

“Woo,” the smaller one breathed. “Damn thing made this one into a huge butterball.”

“Sure did,” the bigger one agreed.

Joel felt an odd rage well up inside him. He was bigger than both of them, and he wouldn’t be pushed around. Not anymore.

He tried to keep his voice low to keep from waking the dorm and was surprised at how baritone his words sounded. “What the fuck are you talking about? What’s going on?”

The smaller one winked to his compatriot and then stalked forward, hand outstretched.