By lthr_jock

Paul stood in the centre of the room staring straight ahead. In front of him was a mirror, allowing him to see himself. His torso and trousers were still covered in tight, laced and strapped leather. His feet were now covered in heavy black army boots. The only part of him that could be seen was his head. His eyes stared straight ahead, looking at his flushed face, topped by his straggly mop of hair. He didn’t blink, the only part of him that moved were his eyes, which looked up and down his reflection.

Paul began to notice changes. As he watched, his chest swelled under the leather, making it creak and groan. As he felt it tightening around him, he briefly wondered why it wasn’t making his breathing more difficult. Then he realised that he was breathing very slowly and very shallowly – so shallowly that it was almost impossible to detect. His waist seemed to be shrinking, narrowing and he could feel his stomach muscles hardening. The tight leather seemed to become looser around his waist, until hands reached around him and tightened the lacing and straps.

The creaking of the leather trousers made him look downwards and he saw his thighs swelling, his calves hardening and widening. His feet seemed to be swelling within his boots and all he could hear was the steady, persistent creaking of leather. No not all – right on the edge of his hearing Paul could hear a voice, a low voice, it seemed to be whispering something, but however hard he tried, Paul couldn’t make out what he said.

He looked back at himself. More changes. His hair seemed longer, shaggier. The insistent pressure of the butt plug in his arse disappeared and the constraint of the seedpod disappeared. Instead, as he looked down, he saw his cock and balls covered with a laced leather sheath and standing erect outside the bondage suit.

From time to time he thought that he saw movement to the side, but he couldn’t move his head to look. All he could do was stand and watch, to see his stance change as his swollen thighs forced his legs apart, to see his arms hanging out from his body as his muscles steadily grew.

The voice grew louder, more insistent, but Paul could still not make out the words. As he seemed to be about to grasp what it was saying, he was distracted by a movement behind him. He looked up in the mirror in time to see a dark figure pulling a hood down over Paul’s head. He recognised the leather hood and opened his mouth to allow the cock gag to slide in. As the hood was laced and strapped back in place, Paul closed his eyes and drifting off to the sounds of the voice.

 

***

 

Paul reached over and slapped the alarm clock to make the insistent klaxon shut up. Feeling fuzzy, he groaned as he swung out of bed and stood up to head to the bathroom. As he did so he stopped in shock, mouth gaping as he saw his reflection. His body was much more muscled than it had been yesterday – he now sported a barrel chest, a solid 8-pack and tree-trunk thighs. As he moved he could see the muscles sliding under his skin. He couldn’t believe the change that seemed to have happened overnight. He was also shocked by his hair – his normal trim cut was shaggy and straggly. It looked as though he needed a cut – but he’d only been to the barbers last week.

As he flexed in front of the mirror, he could feel his cock getting hard inside the speedos he wore to bed. He grinned as he thought about the guys at work – they would freak if they saw him like this. With that thought he looked at the clock and realised that he wouldn’t have time to go to the gym this morning, he’d have to shower and go straight to work.

Getting into the shower, he bumped his head twice. Everything seemed slightly smaller somehow and as he was brushing his teeth he had to bend down lower. When he did so, his unkempt hair kept straggling forward, so he grabbed a handful of hair gel and greased it back. Heading out to his bedroom, he got dressed for work. First a black leather jockstrap. He grinned as he slid his meat into the jock, enjoying the way it made the pouch sag at the front. Then a black leather lace-front t-shirt. As he pulled it on, his biceps made the sleeves creak then settled around them like bands of iron. Paul grinned and flexed in front of the mirror, making them creak more.   The he slid into his lace-side leather jeans. Sliding the jeans on, he loved the feel as they fitted over his flesh like a second skin.   The lacing at the sides stretched around his muscled legs, giving a good show of his flesh between the panels of leather. He completed dressing by buckling on a pair of heavy engineer boots and strapping studded leather wristbands onto his wrists. He finished off by pulling on a pair of mirrored sun-glasses and then grabbed a Vanson leather bike jacket before heading out the door.

At work, Paul strode down the middle of the open-plan office, smiling and cheerfully greeting his work colleagues. The looks they gave him ranged from appalled to amazed, but Paul paid no notice to them. He headed straight for his boss’s office, and walked in without knocking.

“Paul?” His boss looked up, shocked. “Where the fuck have you been? It’s been a month and we haven’t heard from you. And what the hell do you think you’re dressed like?”

At those words, Paul suddenly felt totally confused. A month? But it couldn’t be! Oh God, what the hell would people think of him? Why was he wearing these clothes? He looked out the door and could see his work colleagues looking curiously through the door as the volume of his boss’s tirade increased. Paul could say nothing as his boss ranted at him, merely shake his head in disbelief.

In the end, he heard the words he dreaded:

“YOU’RE FIRED!!!”

Paul slunk out of the office, his huge muscles no defence against the humiliation. Face still burning red, he staggered out of the office and wandered slowly home. Instead of going in, he wandered into a nearby park and slumped onto a bench, head in his hands. Now what would he do? He had no job, and no way of making the money to pay his rent. He had no idea what the hell was happening to him. Just then a voice close by said:

“Here, this will help you, Paul.”

A hand held a bottle of protein shake in front of him. Paul gratefully grabbed the shake and started to gulp it down. Jay sat down beside him.

“So, Paul, here’s what I suggest …”

 

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Copyright © 2007 and 2015 by lthr_jock.

 

All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

 

This story is erotic gay fiction and is for mature audiences only. It may contain supernatural themes, sex scenes, violence, coarse language, drug use and other adult themes.

 

Metal would like to thank lthr_jock for granting permission for this story, which has previously appeared on other websites, to be re-posted here.