Altered Reality

Day 3


By Blackbird

Jerking violently awake, Chad's mind was scrambled with visions of tall, muscular men surrounding him, taunting him, and throwing him around like a rag doll. He shook his head and squinted his eyes to get his bearings. It took a few seconds to realize he was on the floor of Melissa's studio. How'd he get there?

Lifting a hand to rub his aching forehead, he froze when he saw the arm in front of him. It wasn't his arm! He half expected it's owner to slap him in the face. Slowly he let it down, realizing he was in control of it. He lifted his head to see a stranger's body sprawled out beneath his neck. Scrambling to get away from it, the body jerked and flailed, matching the movements his brain was signaling. He froze again, slamming his eyes shut.

Think! What the hell's happening......last night......the dreams......that he was shrinking. But it wasn't a dream. It was all too real. All the sensations of his bones contracting, his muscles losing their mass, even the detailed memory of his body hair disappearing. It actually happened, just before he passed out.

Several minutes passed before he could open his eyes again. Praying that his normal body was back, he glanced down. The image he was so used to seeing, the two veiny slabs of pec meat, was replaced by a chest that looked like it belonged to a fitness model. Tight, well defined muscles, but none of the body building mass he had spent years building up. It looked like his chest from when he was 17 maybe. He lifted his right arm to inspect it, surprised at how light it felt. The loss of mass in his bicep and especially tricep made his arm look anything but awe inspiring. Shit, even his hands looked unimpressive, like they couldn't even palm a basketball anymore.

He sat up, rubbing his smooth, swimmer's build legs. Gone were the tree trunk quads that used to push his legs apart. Gone were the V cut calf muscles. Gone were the long feet that easily filled size 21 shoes. With his smaller hands, he gingerly lifted his package which looked, well, average.

Chad sighed and hunched over, noticing his reflection in a mirror to his left. His reflection looked pale and unassuming. His face was still attractive, but no longer oozed sex appeal and intimidation. His hair looked ratty, in desparate need of a combing. It was obvious too that his back had lost its girth, only slightly tapering from his waist up to his barely defined delts. He knew by his reflection, and how much closer his feet were to his vision, that he had shrunk considerably in height again, . Reluctantly, he struggled to stand up.

His stomach did flips as he adjusted to the increased volume of space around him. The headers of the doors were now well above his head. He couldn't touch the ceiling now, even if he stretched out his arm completely. Best guess, he was slightly over 6 ft now, maybe less. How was this happening to him. When would this nightmare end.

Chad slowly picked up the change of clothes he brought the day before, not surprised by the fact that they were a few sizes smaller now. He'd been through the incredible shrinking man ordeal of the day before, and figured things would play out the same today. As he was packing his stuff to leave, he realized he couldn't find the key Melissa had given him. Convinced he left it laying around the studio, he locked the doorknob and shut the door on his way out. Halfway down the stairs, he heard a familiar voice.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?"

Chad looked down to see Melissa coming out of the garage below.

"Oh, hey babe," not recognizing the thinner voice coming out of his mouth.

"Excuse me?"

Confused by her scornful look, Chad replied, "I thought you said I could crash here whenever I needed to...."

"Look! I don't know who the hell you are, creep, but you better get off my property before I call the cops."

She fumbled in her purse and withdrew a cellphone and a can of mace on a keychain. Chad knew Melissa didn't pull stunts like this. "Whoa! Easy. I must of got the wrong house or something."

"Get in your crappy Mustang and leave! Now!" as she dialed 911.

Where Chad had parked his brand new GT the night before sat a beatup '95 Mustang in desparate need of a paintjob.

"But that's not my ride...."

"Well, I certainly didn't park it there asshole-- Hello, yes. This is Melissa Kroger at 232 Primrose Way. I need the police over here right away. A strange man was just breaking into my studio and he won't leave"

"Relax! I'm going." Pulling out an unfamiliar set of keys from his gym bag, he realized, in this reality, this must in fact be his car. He reluctantly unlocked the door and climbed in. Noticing how spacious the interior felt, he was reminded of his diminished size. The seat was already adjusted forward so he could reach the petals, and his hair didn't even rub against the headliner like usual. Pulling out of the driveway, Chad glanced back at Melissa, lamenting the fact that he'd probably never again get to penetrate her tight pussy.

Returning to school, Chad discovered many of the revisions to his new reality. At practise, he learned that he was third string, not the star quarterback. Coach commented that he had good potential, but needed to bulk up. Chad was relieved that most of his buds still recognized him, though he clearly wasn't in the inner circle anymore. Matt was the only one that seemed to still have a genuine friendship with him, but it was disconcerting having to look up at him when they spoke. Matt extended an invitation to a party at Sigma Phi that night. At first Chad hesitated, but then decided being around other people may prevent the nightly shrink sessions he was having. As Matt, turned to leave, he mentioned, "Oh, and give Tim the invite. That dude loves to party."


Laughing, Matt responded as he was walking away, "Your roommate, dumbshit."

Even though Timmy had been consuming his thoughts the whole day, it never occured to Chad that they might be buds in this reality. The thought sickened him. Were they butt buddies too? There's no way he would go if Timmy might show up. But then the thought occured to him that he might be able to threaten the little shit into reversing whatever he had put into motion. Chad still had a couple inches and probably a 30lb advantage over the asshole, and he could have Matt hold him still while he beat him shitless.

That night, Chad was practically a wallflower, clearly not catching the attention of any of the sorority chicks that were flocking around the larger football players. At one point, a drunken frat boy slammed into him. "Watch it mutha fuh....," Chad trailed off as he realized how much bigger the guy was than him. "Sorry lil bro," the guy slurred as he slapped Chad painfully on the back and stammered down the hall.

By about his sixth beer, Chad was considering leaving when Matt came up behind him announcing, "Look what the cat coughed up!"

Chad spun around to see Timmy, or what looked like Timmy's older brother standing a few feet away from him.

"Hey there roomie. Where you been hiding?"

The deepened bravato of Timmy's voice sent shivers up and down Chad's spine. Even in the dim light, it was obvious that Timmy had morphed into a stud. His thick, shimering black hair was spiked like a runway model. His angular facial features contrasted with his curving, supple lips that were arranged in a smirk. His piercing blue eyes were set beneath dark, strong eyebrows. Then it hit Chad, they were both at the same eye level. He quickly glanced down at the floor, confirming that Timmy wasn't standing up a step or something.

"Seems I've had a bit of a growth spurt today......well? Do I at least get a hug?"

Chad nervously glanced over at Matt who shrugged, "Don't let me interrupt you ladies."

Timmy closed the gap between them. A mixture of rage and fear caused Chad's body to tense, in preparation for a fight. Before he thought to sucker punch him though, Timmy was slipping his arms around Chad's midsection. Still gripped with fear, an intoxicating, musky aroma filled Chad's nose, causing his knees to buckle. As he fell forward, Timmy caught him, tightening his embrace and whispering in his ear, "Relax bud. Enjoy the ride"

Chad became acutely aware of his senses. Instinctively, he reached across his roommate's back to steady himself, feeling the firm lats underneath the black cotton shirt. He could feel Timmy's firm pecs pressingly solidly against his chest and felt the ripple of Timmy's abs pressing into his own gut. He felt the dense muscle under his armpits, helping to support his weight. As his chin pressed against solid shoulder muscles, his cheek brushed against dense stubble and his neck tingled with Timmy's warm breath. He felt the heat radiating from Timmy's light olive tan skin. He also noticed Timmy's throbbing prick pressing into his own, quickly rising unit. Again he inhaled the intoxicating musk.

Timmy whispered, "That's feed me."

Chad's ears filled with a chorus of whispering, even louder than the previous night. Still unable to push away from Timmy, he could only observe what was happening to him. He first noticed Timmy's supporting arm muscles under his own armpits start to expand and get firmer, like they were turning to stone. The same effect was happening to the neck and shoulder muscles his chin was pressed up against. He noticed the friction between their two shirts, as Timmy's pecs seemed to be lifting up and spreading wider. The abs pressing harder into his stomach seemed to be rolling around themselves, pulsing with power. The hardening back muscles he was clinging to were flexing and twitching, making it harder to dig his fingers in to.

Chad's senses shifted to his own body as he felt like his power and strength were being siphoned off. He felt his own pecs shrinking, all the while Timmy's chest was pushing harder into him. The growth of Timmy's pecs finally push their abs apart, but Chad could still feel his own abs loosening up. He felt the diminishing mass of his upper arms as they rested on the balooning marble supports below. As his frame continued to contract, it felt like his shoulder blades were being winched together. With his shrinking legs and torso, Chad struggled to keep his toes on the ground. His feet kept slipping within the increasing space in his shoes. As his feet eventually left the ground, he clutched at the expanding, steel coated shoulder blades beneath his fingers.

With his face now buried on Tim's right pec, Chad couldn't see anything except the black cotton being stretched taught against the expanding muscle in front of him. Through the whispering, Chad could hear the sound of tearing fabric, which he assumed must be Timmy's pants since his shirt was still intact. He was briefly lifted higher and then lowered back down on what felt like a flagpole. With a twitch of Timmy's powerful hips, he realized that he was being supported on what must be one massive dick. It was too much to take. Chad blew his load and blacked out. •

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