The Velvet Curtain
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Trouble at the Late-Night Laboratory
🕑 Added 2025-09-07 23:51:42 +0000 UTCMake sure to check the tags, since this is darker than other things I've written. Feel free to let me know if you ever think I'm missing anything, too.
Mitchell wakes up in his college's science building, and discovers that his classmate Gareth is preparing to experiment on him. But not everything goes according to plan...
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Mitchell woke in the fourth floor lab of the new science building, eyes blinded by the overhead lights and his hands and legs bound by what felt like sweaty handkerchiefs. Squinting until his vision cleared, his gaze eventually focused on a figure turned away from him, digging through a bag on the ground several feet away from him. He realized at that moment he was on top of a table, his head pressing against the wall, his feet bumping against the spout of a metal sink. His head was pounding, fuzzy and thick like he had a hangover, and his mouth had a dry, sour taste.
What the fuck was going on?
He had no idea how he had gotten here, or what he had been doing before apparently losing consciousness. But he had to get out. Whatever this was, it was not good.
As he ground his teeth together and tried to pull his hands out of the binds, he saw the stranger out of the corner of his eye standing and turning around. “Fuck!” he hissed, pushing himself slightly into a sitting position against the wall. Though his pulls became more frantic, and rubbed painfully against the skin on his wrists, he couldn’t seem to loosen the cloth. “Fuck fuck fuck! Not good!”
“Hello, Mitchell,” came a very familiar voice, and Mitchell looked up, frozen, with wide eyes.
“Gareth?” His voice already wavered, as much as he wished it didn’t. The slim, inauspicious young man before him smiled, his mouth a thin, curved line. His stringy, overgrown hair fell over his forehead and hung limply behind his ears, shiny in the overhead lights. Mitchell pushed himself back against the wall, his knees drawn up in front of him, as Gareth drew nearer. His piercing, ice blue eyes, once harmless, did not look quite so innocent now. “What are yo—” His voice cut off as his pitch squeaked upwards with growing fear. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry,” Gareth began, his smile growing behind his unshaven, wiry beard. All at once, he looked a portrait of antagonism, where before there had only been a shy, reserved student. If it hadn’t been for his greasy hair and his threadbare red t-shirt over a hunched form, almost a constant, Mitchell might not have even recognized him. “It won’t hurt.”
In one swift movement, Gareth rushed him, knocking Mitchell’s head back with his fist and grabbing his arm. Shooting, intense pain rushed through Mitchell’s head, completely blinding him with agony as Gareth pushed a large syringe deftly into his arm and injected an amber-colored liquid. Mitchell’s body slid a couple inches down the wall when released, his head lolling over his chest. His short, dark hair was ruffled by sleep, his dark eyes half open, and his caramel-toned skin flushed with fear. Mitchell didn’t move right away when Gareth released him, dizzy and groaning with pain, but let his forehead slide against his knees.
When he finally shook his head and wiped the involuntary tears from his eyes, he raised his head to find Gareth had been staring oddly at him from several steps away the entire time. “What?” Mitchell snapped, tenderly pressing his fingers against the back of his head. “What the…what the fuck did you do to me?”
Gareth shrugged, a smug smile playing on his face as he took a single step backward. “A little hormone concoction I cooked up.”
“Huh?” Mitchell asked, completely lost, but Gareth didn’t answer. “Hormones?”
“A very specific combination. Very fragile, if I do say so myself,” the man continued as he began to pace around the room. He was acting as if he knew something Mitchell didn’t, as if Mitchell wasn’t just as good a student as him. His stained jeans dragged against the ground, holes already tearing in the denim. “You have no idea how hard I’ve worked for this, Mitchell. You couldn’t dream of it. And I think I’ve finally got it perfected. Who better to finally try it on but my one academic rival remaining?”
“What kind of hormones?” Mitchell asked, rubbing the injection site on his inner arm, just below his elbow. He had no idea what Gareth was talking about, or even what he wanted. To be frank, the man’s sudden onset superiority complex was starting to piss him off.
“Nothing to worry yourself about,” Gareth replied, as if it were an afterthought to respond to him. “But like I said, Mitchell, soon enough you won’t even be smart enough to care, and I’ll get to be head of the class.”
With an offended noise, Mitchell grit his teeth and tried once more to pull his hands out of his handkerchief binds, to no end. “What the fuck are you talking about? Head of the class? There’s no head of class. How do you even know I’m doing better than you? W-what does it even matter if you’re getting an A? Let me out of these god damn ropes!”
“I’m going to need you to stop swearing at me, okay, Mitchie?” Gareth’s voice was unnaturally high, almost mocking him. He tucked a stray, greasy strand of hair behind his ear and watched Mitchell expectantly.
Mitchell narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to offer a barrage of offensive words, but found that his throat had closed up and refused to let him talk. “Ah—!” he attempted, but found his voice cut off again. His hand shot to his throat, his mouth opening and closing as he tried over and over to say something—anything to this freak. He could picture the words in his head: fuck, shit, damn. But the moment he tried to curl his mouth around their shape, he suddenly felt like he was choking, his throat sealed and his breath cut off. He looked up at Gareth, that constant all-knowing smile still painted across his face, and growled angrily.
“What are you doing to me,” he demanded, his words slow and pointed.
“Nothing you don’t deserve.”
“I don’t even know you!” He genuinely had no idea why Gareth had targeted him. He knew Gareth’s name from repetition, but he knew hardly anything else about him. “We’ve spoken—what, three times in four months? We’re in three classes together, but I don’t know you, man! I thought you were the shy smart kid in the corner!”
“You’re the reason people like me never have a chance.”
“What the—” Mitchell groaned as his throat caught again, forcing him to start over without swearing. “What have I ever done to you?” He scratched absently at the injection site, unaware of how red his skin had become, or how warm it was. He didn’t know how Gareth had dragged him all the way here, or how dangerous he truly was, but he didn’t really want to find out. His first goal was getting untied, and then maybe he could escape.
Gareth laughed once, an empty sound that made Mitchell shiver. He leaned against a table halfway across the room, watching Mitchell closely, before letting that infuriating smile return to his face. “You’re getting in my way of success.”
“No I’m n—”
“And anyway,” he continued, smoothly interrupting Mitchell and shutting him down. “I’m more interested in the other reason anyway. Who wouldn’t be? You are going to be the most beautiful—”
Mitchell had stopped listening the moment he realized there was no hope of getting through to Gareth. He felt gross underneath the man’s gaze, bared open and vulnerable like he had never been before. He was supposed to be the strong, macho one, and still this loser had somehow gotten him into the lab and injected him with an unknown cocktail of drugs. Hormones? What did he even mean by that? With a sigh, he straightened his legs against the lab table, trying to slow his rapidly-beating heart. He could be smart about this, and maybe he could even outsmart Gareth. Maybe…maybe he would get further if he tried another way.
With a cautious look upwards, and a pained grimace as he realized Gareth was still staring—almost hungrily—at him, Mitchell took a long breath. “Could I—have some water at least? My mouth is dry.”
Gareth thought for a moment. Mitchell watched the gears turning behind his vivid eyes, trying to figure out if he meant to escape through the water somehow. “Why not,” he said at last, and reached down into his backpack to grab a metal water bottle. “You’ve been mostly good so far.”
“Is that all you want?” Mitchell asked as Gareth walked forward and tentatively handed the bottle to him. He snatched it bitterly and unscrewed it quickly, letting the cold water pour down his throat for several uninterrupted seconds. His gulps were loud and greedy, the liquid sating. He really was thirsty, like maybe whatever had been in the syringe was giving him a dry mouth. “You want me to listen to you, a-and then you’ll let me go?”
Gareth grinned, and it made Mitchell shiver. “Maybe. But I don’t think you’ll want to leave.”
Mitchell rolled his eyes. “Of course I’ll want to leave,” he mocked, because it was obvious, but he winced when his voice cracked. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“D’you know, I’ve always wanted a Latina girlfriend?”
The question caught him off guard, but the way that Gareth kept looking at him, silent after that single statement, was enough to make him shiver again. He didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. What did Gareth’s fetishes have to do with him? Was he expecting Mitchell to introduce him to someone, like some sort of Mexican matchmaker? This was not what he had come to college for.
With a grunt, he swung his legs over the edge of the table. The cloth cuffs, loosened somehow, slid off his ankles onto the ground as he hopped off, coming to a heavy, unsteady landing as he fell further than he should have. Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong. Spinning around, Mitchell found the black lab table came all the way up to his stomach, where previously it only came up to his hips. Was he…shorter? As he raised his hands to investigate further, the handkerchief slipped easily off his wrists as well, and Mitchell gasped when he saw the small, almost delicate hand connected to a significantly thinner wrist. Up his arm, and it went further. All the way to the shapely bend of his elbow and the reddened injection site.
“What the f-fff—” Mitchell whined as his throat closed again and his voice failed him, and then groaned as his shoulders cracked and shrank to match his new height. He stood at nearly a foot shorter than before, his hands and feet already diminutive, his spine tickling slightly as it disappeared slightly into itself. “What did you do to me?”
“God, you haven’t figured it out yet?”
Mitchell stared at him, that smug, superior look on his face. Gareth’s eyes scanned him with an expression of disgust, before the look disappeared behind his eyes and he wrapped his face into a smile again. It was so…infuriating. Mitchell crossed his arms, his bare foot stomping on the tiled floor. “Ugh, you are so annoying! So smug! So I don’t know. So what? I guess it just means you’re smarter than me doesn’t it? Then problem solved! Let me go!”
Gareth took a breath, paused, and a more interested expression crossed his face for a moment. “Are you pouting?” he asked, the corners of his mouth curling upward.
“Why do you care?” Mitchell pouted, crossing his arms, before shaking himself out of it and dropping the handkerchief which had served as cuffs. “Nevermind. I’m leaving.” He shivered and brushed himself off, telling himself there was nothing to worry about. He was just, like, tripping or something. That freak had given him drugs, something that was making everything around him feel a little bit too big. He could just go back to his room and sleep it off, or if that didn’t work, he could get Tracy to drive him to the hospital. Anything but stay in this room with his kidnapper any longer than needed. Mitchell kept his distance as he rounded Gareth, walking on unsteady feet toward the door. A strand of hair fell into his face and he brushed it behind his ear, not noticing as it curled longer toward his chin.
“I don’t want you to go.” Gareth’s voice was small and almost quavered.
Against his own better judgment, he found himself stopping. He turned, rolling his eyes as he asked, “And why don’t you want me to go?”
A small smile played on Gareth’s thin lips, gentler than it had been before. Something about it was almost…believable. Gareth cleared his throat, and Mitchell took a step forward. Whatever he needed to say, it was important, and Mitchell kind of wanted to hear what it was. It felt like—there was something genuine happening, something that was letting Gareth open up when he couldn’t before.
Beneath his blue t-shirt, Mitchell’s nipples hardened slowly, aroused by the nervous excitement of the night. The tiniest fat deposits formed beneath them, pushing them forward, barely fare enough to notice. His shirt was already loose beneath his smaller frame, but the material began to rub uncomfortably against his chest.
“Mitchell, I…” Gareth began, but faltered. His voice was unsteady and quiet, and Mitchell took another step forward. His heart was beating faster. What the hell was Gareth going to say? What was he so nervous about? Mitchell’s breath caught for a moment as he considered the man might be attempting some kind of admission. Was he…? But that didn’t make sense! Hadn’t he just said something about a girlfriend? Still… Mitchell felt his face warming slightly as naughty thoughts swirled distantly around in his brain. He wasn’t normally so horny, but—
Mitchell grunted and shook his head, feeling unmoored. What had he just been thinking about? He cleared his throat and looked up to meet Gareth’s stare.
“Mitchie.” Gareth’s voice was almost disbelieving as he spoke. Mitchell stared at him, waiting to see what he wanted. Gareth swallowed, and his gaze moved downward slowly. He seemed rather disgusted at the same time, equally horrified and enchanted. Then he laughed, the sound harsh and cruel. “You’re hard.”
Looking down at himself, Mitchell moaned as he realized Gareth was right. He could feel it now, see it pressing against the thin material of his boxers. Now that he was giving it attention, he was almost painfully hard.
“W-What the f—mmmghh—shoot! Shoot! D—darn, dang. Fudge?” Distracted by exploring the alternatives for swearing that he could still access, he didn’t notice as Gareth moved closer. The man inched along the edge of the tables, moving smoothly and quietly as Mitchell blinked and pouted again. As he spoke every single alternative he could remember, he also failed to realize the fat spreading to his hips and ass and rounding them until they were smooth, full, and pert. He grimaced as his underwear, pulled tighter against his hips, started forming a wedgie in his ass, but only noticed that he had come to the end of the list. “Gosh. I can’t remember any others.”
“Still a lot,” Gareth said quietly, his eyes locked on Mitchell’s new hips.
“I guess so,” Mitchell grumbled, and sighed to himself. Then he stared at Gareth until the man raised his eyes and began to whine. “Are you gonna let me go?”
Gareth smiled. Gosh, he was doing a lot of smiling. If he didn’t have such a nice smile, it would have been annoying. Wait—did he really think it was nice? “I wanna talk, Mitchie.”
Mitchie sighed and crossed his arms again, shivering when his thumb flicked against his swollen nipple. This neediness was starting to get annoying. “Talk about what, Gareth?” he asked, the pitch of his voice slightly higher than normal. He coughed and cleared his throat, rubbing his neck quickly, though his voice remained at the same pitch when he continued, “What on earth do you have to say to me?”
“So defensive,” Gareth almost crooned. “I only wanted to tell you how pretty I think you are.”
Mitchie flushed and turned his face away, partly to hide the smile creeping across her lips. He hadn’t really just said that, had he? Did he really think Mitchie—Mitchie? Had he really just thought of himself as Mitchie? Mitchell recoiled and gagged slightly at the thought of it; gosh, Gareth had definitely found some way into his head. He had to make sure it didn’t happen again.
“Get away from me!” Mitchell spat, choking on his words as he tripped backwards and fell, landing hard on his pillowy ass. “Ouch! Don’t you see what you’re doing?” he whined, making no move to get up from the floor. He stared up at Gareth’s even expression, his lips swelling as the number of nerves beneath the skin doubled. Then he cried out as his bones cracked and shrank again, pulling his shoulders closer together as his pelvis widened. His rich, caramel skin was smooth, his body hair having fallen off completely, and the blemishes on his body—acne scars, moles, scars and stitches from a few too many trips to the tops of trees—began to smooth. His shirt was massive on his tiny frame, barely showing his heaving chest beneath the folds of fabric.
“Turning you into a girl?” Gareth asked smoothly.
“No!” Mitchell whined, feeling tears at the back of his eyes. “You made me fall over and now everything hurts! W-Wait, what?”
“Yeah,” the man said, stepping toward Mitchell as he scooted backward on his ass. Gareth caught up to him quickly, gripping him by the shoulders and stopping him. Mitchell was so much smaller than him now, it was more like he was a giant. Was this—was this what girls felt like all the time? The thought vanished from his head as Gareth reached down and began to lift his shirt off, but he squealed and tried to pull away.
“No no, don’t do that! Plea—!”
“Shut up,” Gareth said, not even lifting his voice, and Mitchell gasped as he choked on his words again. As Gareth pulled the bottom of his shirt up over his head, forcing his arms up as well, he tried multiple times to no end to say anything at all. The best he could do was a pathetic whimper, at which point Gareth paused to give him a withering look. Then he pulled the sleeves off Mitchell’s arms and tossed the shirt into the corner.
The moment he looked away, Mitchell grunted and kicked up between Gareth’s legs as hard as possible. Then, without looking back, he pushed himself up and fled through the classroom door. Automated hallway lights flicked on when he slid into the hallway, though he would have preferred darkness, and he made his way for the nearest corner. He rounded it, turning to the right, and slipped quietly into the first room. He kept the door open and shut off the room’s automatic light, hoping Gareth would pass by thinking it empty. He crouched and made his way into the far corner, hiding behind a small podium.
He would not have been able to get into this small a space if everything was normal. He was pretty sure of that now. It was still possible he was on some weird mixture of drugs, but part of him was starting to think this was all very real. His body did feel smaller, more delicate, humming on a new level of arousal. Arousal… He was starting to feel really horny. He could still feel his dick pressing against his stomach now he was curled into a ball, something he hadn’t been able to focus on before.
It was really sensitive.
Mitchell clapped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from whimpering, squeezing his eyes shut and tensing every other muscle he could feel to try to make his erection go down. Then he heard movement and froze; echoing footsteps began moving closer.
“Mitchie!” a voice sang, muffled by the walls in between them, but Mitchell could hear the smugness dripping from Gareth’s voice. “Oh, Mitchie! Wherever could you be?”
He took slow, careful breaths, making sure he was completely silent. His heart was pounding like a tin drum in his chest, but he knew no one could hear it but him. He just had to make it until Gareth turned the corner, kept searching elsewhere, and then he could sneak back to the staircase and get out. There was no way he could outrun anyone if it came to being chased; he could feel how reduced his lung capacity was, how much smaller his breaths were as he tried to fill his chest.
It was odd, he thought, absently rubbing his swollen nipples to help soothe himself. Realistically, he knew he should be feeling a lot more scared. And he was, there was no denying that. But he also felt…a little good? Like, he knew he wasn’t supposed to like the changes that were happening, and he definitely didn’t want them to progress anymore, but, like, he didn’t mind how he felt right now. It was actually kind of nice being able to squeeze into small spaces. Imagine how it might feel if that were a person, a really big person who could wrap long, warm arms around his small, petite body. It might…it might feel nice?
Mitchie bit his lip, hand still over his mouth, and blushed furiously as he tried to push the thought away. It would not feel nice. He was supposed to be the big one. What on earth was wrong with him?
“Mitchie, I’m sorry,” Gareth apologized, his voice closer than it was before. His voice was gentler than it had been before, which did a lot to soothe Mitchie’s nerves. “I’ve been a real bully, haven’t I? Would you—would you come out so I can apologize properly?”
Mitchie thought about it; he really, seriously considered leaving the safety of his corner and confronting Gareth head on. He was pretty sure that Gareth didn’t want to actually apologize, but part of him wanted to believe the best in him. He wasn’t…that bad, after all. Sure, he had been so jealous of Mitchie that he had resorted to abduction and threatening, but maybe he had a mom who was, like, a total bitch about his grades or whatever. Maybe he really needed to be first in the class so she wouldn’t be mean to him. That was fair, right?
His hair curled down the back of his neck, tickling the peaks of his shoulders as it grew longer. Mitchie cocked his head, feeling like he was missing something. Wasn’t there something else that Gareth had done? It felt as though there were something just beyond the reached of his mind, but for some reason, he couldn’t remember. Well, whatever it was, if he had forgotten, then it must not have been so bad.
With a long, bored sigh, Mitchie rubbed his face, licking his plump lips and blinking behind long, dark eyelashes. His face, even in the dark, was curiously androgynous, completely lacking any of the overnight stubble he had begun to grow. His eyes seemed larger, accented by his soft cheekbones and his shrinking nose. As his arms crossed together in front of his chest to keep himself small, a tiny line of cleavage formed where the faint deposits of fat had begun to grow beneath his nipples. He shivered in the chilly air of the unheated building, wishing he could go back for his shirt.
“Please, Mitchie? Please say you’ll forgive me. I didn’t mean to scare you or make you upset. I just want to talk.”
Biting his lip again, Mitchie quarreled within himself, trying to decide whether it was a good idea to take him at his word or not. All of his instincts told him to stay quiet, but then again, maybe Gareth was telling the truth. Why was it so impossible for him to tell whether he was lying?
A moment of silence passed, during which Mitchie breathed quietly into his hands, finding himself unable to make a decision. Then he thought he heard the shift of fabric and his body froze. It was completely silent, and still he felt as though he were being watched. And then a voice—low, and even toned—sent goosebumps racing down his spine from mere meters away. Inside of the room. “I don’t want to play games, Mitchie. I’m just asking you to come out and talk. Why don’t you want to behave?”
Behave? What did behaving have anything to do with it? Mitchie furrowed his eyebrows and tried to find a way out of this. Obviously Gareth knew what room he was hiding in, which was why he was creeping somewhere around it now. Opening his eyes, Mitchie tried to see through the haze of the light seeping from the open door, and nearly gasped as he saw a large figure sitting at one of the tables.
How had he even snuck in? He was being so quiet!
Now he was trapped, stuck with Gareth between him and the door. But if he moved fast enough, it might be possible. He might be able to dart past Gareth and get out the door first.
And then what?
He definitely didn’t have the stamina for being chased anymore. He knew he couldn’t outrun the man. His fists clenched as he tried not to think about what Gareth could do to him now that he was so much bigger than Mitchie. He nearly whimpered, completely involuntarily, when he thought of how much larger Gareth was in relation to him now, but managed to cover his mouth again and keep quiet. Even now, he could feel his cock rubbing stiffly against his stomach from beneath his boxers. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.
“You know I can hear you, right?” Gareth asked, his voice so soft and gentle. Mitchie gasped when he heard it, shivered when the depth of it rolled down his spine. “Quivering away in that corner. Did you think I couldn’t?”
Mitchie remained silent, hoping against all hope that he would leave.
“Why don’t you come out, baby?”
“Baby?” Mitchie echoed, distaste forming in his throat as he spoke. Then he sighed and crawled out from his nook between the corner and the podium, covering his perky nipples with his arms when he stood up. His voice was pouty and strained, like he was speaking in the wrong pitch. He cleared his throat and tried again, but his voice was still too high. “Why are you calling me baby?”
“I thought you liked it,” Gareth smiled, the sound of it visible even in the dark classroom. Mitchie stood awkwardly at the front of the class, feeling the man’s eyes on his small body. When he rubbed his legs together, they felt…smooth. And so did his arms. Like he was shaving them or something? That didn’t seem necessary, but he had to admit, he kind of liked how smooth he felt. When he ran his fingers over his stomach and his puffy chest, fingertips dancing over his skin, he loved the pleasure that began to pool low in his belly.
“Don’t you like it?”
“Like…what?”
“Did you forget?”
Mitchie was so lost. She had completely forgotten what they were talking about, and it was embarrassing to admit that. It made her look, like, stupid or something. Sh…h-he…he… Fudge! Had he just thought of himself like a girl? Fudge, that was bad. Overwhelmed with a faint nausea growing at the back of his throat, he realized he still hadn’t answered Gareth. But Gareth was patient, and he was still waiting for an answer.
“Um, no I didn’t forget,” he mumbled, on the verge of tears. Why had he just thought of himself like he was a woman? And why…why had he liked it so much? Fudge. Whatever. He needed to keep it together in front of Gareth so that he could get out of there!
“Then, do you like it?”
He was starting to get really insistent on this point. Mitchie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, man. Fine. Whatever. I like it. Can I go home?”
“We just got here!” Gareth laughed. Mitchie furrowed his eyebrows, because he sounded genuinely confused. “Why do you want to leave?”
“I—um,” Mitchie began, but trailed off when he realized he didn’t remember why he had wanted to leave. It couldn’t have been that important, right? He bit his lip nervously, blushing when he saw the reflection of Gareth’s eyes, still looking right at him, shining in the low light. “I dunno.”
“You dunno?”
“I…think I forgot my shirt?” His voice slid upward as he ended in a question, trying to remember. He looked down at himself and hugged his bare torso tighter, laughing abashedly and turning his body to the side. Maybe Gareth wouldn’t be able to see as much of him from the side.
“How did you forget that?”
“Um,” Mitchie said, trying really hard to remember. Weirdly enough, he had no idea why he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He remembered putting it on before bed, but now he was definitely not in bed anymore. Why had he come out here with Gareth, and why couldn’t he remember doing any of it? It was starting to get ridiculous, but maybe he could do nothing more than laugh. He giggled hopelessly and said, “I can’t remember.”
“Well,” Gareth began, and started to laugh as well, “Well, do you want to go look for it? I’ll help you.”
“Would you?” Mitchie asked eagerly. He jumped forward with pent-up excitement, biting his lip when his tiny titties bounced on his chest and twinged his fat nipples. “That would be really helpful!”
He blushed when Gareth’s eyes dropped to his chest. He was used enough to the dark now that he could see the movement of his eyelids, the brief slacking of his facial muscles before they tightened again and his smile returned. Mitchie squirmed under his gaze, holding one arm awkwardly over his narrow chest. He shook his hair out of his face, shivering when the dark locks fell across his upper back. His hair had gotten so long since coming to college; he giggled at the thought of what his parents would think when they saw him. When he looked back up at Gareth, he blushed again when he realized the man was still staring at him. Gosh, when had he gotten so fluttery? It’s not like he was gay or anything, right?
Mitchie covered his mouth and tried unsuccessfully to suppress the giggle pressing up from his throat. Had he seriously just thought that? He was seriously having a crazy night, and he felt so good that it was starting to get hard to think. What was he…? Oh, his shirt. He needed to go find his shirt.
Attention snapping back to the problem at hand, Mitchie grunted, his voice scratching at the top of his range each time he spoke and gradually expanding. He took a few uncertain steps forward, and then pushed past Gareth. “Well, um, are we going?”
“After you.”
Mitchie couldn’t help but blush furiously again, unsteadied by the smoothness of his voice as Gareth fell into line behind him. He walked back out into the lit hallway, looking both ways and trying to remember what he had been doing before. Choosing at random, he turned left and looked into each room he passed. All of them were dark, but he had no idea where he might have left his shirt.
“Do you remember?” he asked, his voice breaking once. He turned around and looked questioningly at Gareth.
“Remember what?”
He was definitely teasing Mitchie, but Mitchie couldn’t deny that he kind of liked it. After all, it was pretty silly of him to take his shirt off and forget where he put it. Gareth’s teasing was making him feel all giddy inside, happy to have someone paying this much attention to him. “Don’t make fun of me!” he pouted, waiting until Gareth caught up to jab him lightly in the side and bump his arm with his own shoulder. “I just forgot. I’m sure I’ll remember in a minute.”
“Do you remember going in there?” Gareth asked, pointing forward toward the lab at the end of the hall. “Because the light is on.”
“Ohmygod, you’re so right. I dunno where my mind is today!” Mitchie was still unsure why he had brought Gareth with him, since they hardly knew each other, but he was starting to be glad that past him had made the decision. Then he grabbed Gareth’s hand as it dangled beside them and took off, his bare feet echoing against the hard floor. His hips swung from side to side, generous—and far wider than his diminutive shoulders now. “Come on, hurry up!”
Gareth’s surprised laugh followed after him, as he jogged into the laboratory, on the lookout for his shirt. As he took in the scene before him, an open backpack on the table closest to him and a couple of syringes beside it, something was… Something was starting to feel very wrong. Was he…had he…been abducted in here? Had he been…tied up?
A thrill of fear sent shivers running down his body, and his heart rate accelerated as he felt Gareth’s presence behind him. Even out of sight, he could feel how tall Gareth was now, how he towered over Mitchie. The problem was, part of him was screaming that he was not supposed to be this short, but he couldn’t ever remember being taller. If he had been taller, he should be able to remember it, right? Still, being in this room was making him feel like he was missing something really big, and he was going to feel really foolish when he remembered.
“Michelle?” Gareth asked softly, and Mitchie shrieked in fright.
“You scared m—w-what?”
“Did you find your shirt?”
Mitchie took a step backwards into the room, staring uncertainly at Gareth. Whatever was telling him that something was wrong was also telling him that Gareth had something to do with it. It was right there at the tip of his tongue, right at the wisps of his memory, but he just couldn’t grasp it. Gareth had done something. He had to stay away. Mitchie kept repeating this to himself as he tried not to let Gareth’s gorgeous ice-blue eyes entrance her.
“N-No, back—back up,” she stumbled, taking another step backward and whimpering slightly when the fat on his chest bounced again. Gareth smiled, lopsided, the right side curling upwards like a trail of smoke, and took a step into the room. “What did you do to me?”
Gareth stopped, his smiled falling, and the look in his eyes was utterly serious. “What do you mean?”
“Did you do something to me?” Mitchie asked, almost hysterical. He was getting so confused, and it was getting hard to figure out what on earth was going on. He could also feel the tears forming in his eyes, and he really didn’t want to cry in front of a man who was so much taller and stronger than him.
“Why would you say that?” Gareth asked. He sounded truly offended, like Mitchie had just hurt his feelings. “That’s not a funny thing to joke about.”
“I’m not joking!”
“Then why the fuck would you say it?”
“Because something’s uber messed up, and I think you’re the one behind it!” When he said it, it didn’t sound as believable, but Mitchie still stamped his foot to make sure Gareth understood how serious he was.
“Why me?”
“Umm, because you’re the only one here. Duuhhh!” Gosh, it was like he was trying to look stupid. But when he looked back, he saw that Gareth had a dumb, sort of lopsided smile printed across his face, as if Mitchie’s whining had caught him off guard. Mitchie stamped his foot again as if that were that. “I still think you did something, and when I find out, I…I…o-oh no. Please no.”
As his memory flooded back into him, filling him once again with a cold burning in his chest, he stumbled forward. He nearly plowed into Gareth before he managed to slip his lithe body through the doorway and take off down the hallway. But before he could make it further than two steps, he felt a hand around his wrist, and his momentum was jerked backward.
“I don’t think so,” Gareth growled, grabbing a handful of Mitchie’s hair and pulling him roughly into his stronger arms.
“No! Let me go!” Mitchie shrieked, kicking and flailing as best she could, but Gareth picked her up with ease and carried her back into the lab. He closed and locked the door behind him, carrying Mitchie to a table and setting her down atop it. But he wouldn’t let go of her, and he gripped her wrists tighter as her fighting began to weaken.
“Stop it, Michelle,” he hissed, as if she were misbehaving. He held her tiny wrists down at her sides, pressing them against the table. “Stop fighting me. You don’t know what’s good for you.”
“Not…Michelle,” Mitchie struggled through locked jaws. Even though she wanted to, she was having a hard time continuing to fight Gareth. He was so much bigger than her, and she was already so tired. And after all, if she stopped now, maybe he would reward her later. He wasn’t too bad looking, now that she thought about it. Wait—what?
She tried not to get drawn in by his smile—she really did. But it was so hard when he was so handsome, and his smile made him look so sweet. After all, he was only t-teasing her. Right? Mitchie avoided his gaze as long as he could, moving her eyes around the room everywhere but at his face, until it started to become more of a game. Then her eyes flicked to his, but he was staring down at her bare, brown chest.
“Ohmigod!” Michelle gasped, and clapped her tiny palms over the twin lumps beginning to grow. Her throat made a choked, needy noise as she stimulated her oversized nipples.
“Show me,” Gareth ordered her, but she pouted and shook her head. She was not about to let him see her tits now, even if she had forgotten she wasn’t wearing a shirt. She didn’t know a lot about bras, but her girlfriend had B cups and she was definitely bigger. So maybe Michelle had A cups? But just because she had tits now didn’t mean she was a girl! She still had a cock! She—umm…sh-h…she?
Michelle squealed and squeezed her breasts involuntarily when she came to again and realized what was happening. This was soooo uncool. But her long fingernail caught against her nipple, and she watched her vision white out for a moment as a moan was dragged unceremoniously from her throat. Before the panic could set in, Gareth had pulled her hands away from her chest and pinned them to the counter again.
“I said, show me,” he said slowly, rubbing his thumbs up and down her forearms, and Michelle giggled as she tried to kick him away. The flirt.
“Get off, you!” she laughed, and pushed her toes up against where she thought his nipple might be. “Belleza loca.”
“You think so?” Gareth asked, leaning forward quickly and attaching his mouth to one of her breasts. His arms caught her around the waist, until he slid one hand down to her thigh. She moaned as he began to suck, and the stimulation only seemed to make her breasts grow even more.
Michelle held Gareth’s hair in one fist while she played with her other breast, hefting the weight and giggling as it doubled, and then tripled. Now she remembered why she had brought Gareth out here. He had promised to give her a hot body! “Yes, oh yes!” she groaned into his hair, rocking her hips and pushing her body into his.
“Let me kiss you,” he growled into her breast, and with a breathless gasp, she lifted his face to hers so that he could. His mouth tasted of strawberry candy, and she greedily shoved her tongue past his lips. He made a surprised sound, but leaned into the kiss eagerly when she grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. She kept him as long as she could, until he grasped her shoulders and pulled his mouth away from hers with a wet smack and a groan.
“Fuck,” he muttered, almost shaken, and Michelle still held him close by the shirt. “F-Fuck, I—I guess I wasn’t ready for that,” he laughed, and let Michelle wrap her legs around him as he picked her up again and carried her to the front of the lab.
“Please, baby,” Michelle begged as he set her down on a blanket he had laid out hours ago and stepped back to undress. “Please hurry up. I’m so hot. I need—I need your cock.”
Gareth laughed, almost taken aback with her continued eagerness. He paused as he slipped his shirt over his head, watching Michelle’s face curiously for something. She only moaned and complained about how slow he was, so he quickly stepped out of his jeans and pulled down his boxers. She jumped at his half-hard cock so fast, he barely had time to hold her back.
“F-Fuck! Hold on, Jesus! Let me get down there first, missy.”
“Hurry up!” she urged him, almost bouncing in place with excitement. “Just let me suck it already!”
She was unbelievably eager, and unbelievably sexy. Gareth didn’t even know if she realized she still had a dick. He could see it even now, hard and thick, pressing against her tight boxers. But she was so sexy everywhere else that he didn’t even care anymore. Her voice had long ago lost any of its old heavyness, and he even thought he detected the hint of a honeyed accent when she spoke. Either way, he was entranced, and he felt willing to do almost anything for her.
“Here, here,” he chuckled, grabbing a stool from the nearest table and dragging it over. “You really want to suck it?”
“Yes, god, please let me suck it! Pleasepleasepleaseplease?” She sounded desperate, and the look in her eyes told him she probably needed it.
Well, if she needed it.
Sitting delicately on the stool, his cock in his hand, he met Michelle’s hungry gaze and nodded. She tittered and rushed forward onto her knees, taking his growing erection in her hands and immediately sticking his tip in her mouth. Gareth groaned and gripped her hair, taking a long breath and nodding again when she looked up at him in question. He could feel her tongue exploring his foreskin, running circles over his head like she was an expert.
He knew this was the first cock she had ever sucked. Mitchell had announced as such to the half-filled classroom one morning before class, during some conversation in which he had not taken part. That information had been stowed away, but he hadn’t actually considered Mitchell as a potential for his experiment at first, until his other options fell through. He hadn’t expected it to be this easy, either. Sure, she had run at first, but like all dim-witted protagonists in a cheesy horror movie, she had not chosen the right place to hide. Now he had had to hold her back to keep her from fucking him too fast.
That—and she was beautiful. Perfect, flawless brown skin with a golden glow, and dark eyes behind long eyelashes. Her wavy dark hair nearly reached her ass, but she seemed to know how to keep it out of her face. She was petite and slim, but her hips were generous, and he could comfortably cup her breasts in his hand. And somehow—he had no idea how—she smelled of sun-kissed oranges and fresh-baked almond pastries. What kind of drug concoction had created that smell from her skin?
Gareth groaned and leaned down, burying his face in her black waves and inhaling deeply. “Oh god,” his voice quavered, and Michelle’s mouth smacked with saliva below him. She pushed forward, his tip moving toward the back of her throat, before she paused and held still for a moment, and began to pull away.
“N-No,” Gareth said, gripping her head. He pushed her head forward, working against her, further onto his cock. She whimpered and tried to pull backward, but he held firm; when he thrust his hips forward as well, he could hear the sound of her gagging on her first cock. Her wide eyes looked up at his, and when she pulled back again—stronger this time—he thought he recognized Mitchell looking back at him, before he shoved his cock down her throat and watched her eyes glaze over with pleasure.
“Fuck—yes,” he grunted, thrusting into her slick, warm throat and only letting her up for air when her face began to change color.
He didn’t want to stop, but every so often he would hold her shoulders and ask if she was all right. During those time she could only stare at his dick, her mouth slack, and beg for him to let her continue. Then he would let her stuff him back into her small mouth, the tightness of her throat squeezing teasingly at him. As she sucked at him, driving his pleasure to new heights he had only dreamed of, he could feel himself getting closer to orgasm. He didn’t…he didn’t want to cum in her mouth. Or in her face, for that matter. He wanted—he wanted to fuck her properly.
“Wait, wait! Fuck, Mitch—Michelle, wait!” he stuttered, forcibly holding her back as he pulled himself out of her mouth.
“No! Nonono!” she cried as he tried to stand up, pawing at his erection with her tiny hands.
Figuring it would take far too much time to explain, Gareth took her by the waist and set her down beneath him on the blanket, keeping her belly up. Then he pulled down her boxers and spread her legs with his knee. She still had a sizable penis, maybe half the size of what it had once been, but Gareth could see the hint of a slit forming in the soft skin beneath his balls. She was still hard, standing almost completely vertical and dripping with precum. With a mischievous smile, Gareth reached down below her testicles and ran a single finger along the warm skin.
A muscle flexed beneath the skin, and Michelle broke into whimpering moans below him, begging for more when he stopped. He repeated the motion, more slowly this time, and watched the agonizing pleasure rushing through her body. With one hand gently bracing her knee and the other along her growing slit, Gareth fingered her. Once, he moved his hand so he could rub with his thumb, and Michelle nearly cried with need. She whimpered and begged, pleading for him to fuck her, but each time he simply shook his head and pressed his thumb harder against her soft skin.
He could feel the slick muscles inside of her begging to be released, sense the completion of her new womb. She bucked her hips as he rubbed her but she couldn’t cum yet. Taking a deep, shaking breath, Gareth took his hand from her knee and rubbed his own cock once. He was still so close to orgasm that it was becoming a beautiful ache in his core. But he needed her to be close too, and he needed her to have the proper hole for him to fuck. He rubbed his palm along his length one more time, biting his lip to keep from moaning, and returned his hand to Michelle’s knee. He pressed again between her legs and paused when he felt a slight give. Michelle cried out once and bucked her hips again, and he watched, entranced, as a new, intoxicating slit opened up between her legs.
Michelle screamed again, the sound ending in a broken cry of pleasure, and her pussy contracted as she came for the first time like a woman. The formation had overstimulated her, and she thrust her hips wildly into the air as aftershocks rocked her body. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with her hair, but on her mouth was plastered the largest smile he had seen from her yet.
He watched with widening eyes as her cock shrank before his eyes. Strangely, she seemed not to have ejaculated from it at all when experiencing her first orgasm. The meager three inches remaining trembled as a last few drops of precum dribbled from the tip, before Michelle moaned and covered her mouth, and it grew soft and pliant. Slowly, its phallic shape molded down into the perfect little clit. It was round and prominent at the top of her new cunt, and she whimpered in pleasure when he pressed his thumb against it.
Gareth raised his chin to meet her eyes. He raised one eyebrow in question, to see if she understood, and saw the moment it happened when a smile broke across her face and she giggled. She clapped her knees together once in excitement and spread them wider for him.
He didn’t bother with any more foreplay, or with being gentle, and she cried out when he finally entered her. He stopped her mouth with a kiss, pushing his entire length into her tight, virgin pussy with slow, practiced ease. She whimpered and squirmed, but each time he stopped, she only begged for him to go deeper. “Please,” she moaned, when he wiped a tear away from her eye and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Don’t stop. Don’t f-fucking stop.”
Hadn’t he told her she couldn’t swear?
Any thoughts lingering in his brain vanished when Michelle wrapped her arms around him and pulled him deeper into her. Gareth groaned, nearly drowning out her ecstatic whimper. “Fuck, you’re—so eager—!”
“Then hurry up and get to it!” she giggled, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Her pussy clenched once around him and he groaned, before he could begin to even pull out.
His lip curled, and he quickly pulled himself out. She was tight, but she was also impossibly warm and wet. Michelle gasped and arched her back, and before she could recover, he thrust into her again.
So the rhythm continued, gradually increasing in pace as they moved together toward a common end. “God you’re so—fucking wet,” Gareth grunted into her ear, and he felt her lips begging at his jaw line. “It feels so—g-go—fuck, so good!” She laughed and bit playfully at his earlobe, her wide hips moving with his as their pace became more frantic. On top of her, where he belonged, he loved deciding the next move, loved being stronger, loved being bigger. She was turning out perfectly, better than he could have ever dreamed, and she was all his.
“Keep going, baby. Destripame, please!” Her order turned into a joyous, ecstatic laugh as she realized what she had said. “Oh fuck! Pleasepleasepleee—yyyeeessss!”
She arched her back, pressing her flat stomach into Gareth’s abdomen as she desperately tried to push him deeper into her. Though she was growing frantic, it seemed, to cum again, he managed to keep control of the rhythm. He held her back until he could feel himself at the edge of orgasm again, and then he set her loose.
“Oh, fuck! Gareth!” she cried, wrapping her arms around his torso again. Her nails dug into his back, though they did not draw blood. She thrust herself around him, as deep as she could go, her hips growing equally as sore with growing exhaustion as his. Though her body begged for her to stop, and she cried out for her burning muscles, her need for release was greater. “I’m—I’m gonna—mmmnnhh I’m so close!”
Gareth could feel his cock stiffening within her as he reached the point of no return. With one final thrust of his hips into her, his balls pressing against the swell of her ass, his cock finally spasmed. He groaned and buried his face in the space between her neck and her shoulder, his teeth pressing against her skin, freezing suddenly as his balls finally released his seed, and he came several long spurts. After the first he began to thrust quickly into her again, reacting to the growing stiffness in her body as her own orgasm approached.
Her abdomen felt taut with his cum as he pressed his hand against it, his cock beginning to grow sensitive as he continued to thrust. She moaned and whimpered beneath him, working her hips furiously toward release, and he watched her eyes glaze over as the orgasm took over.
Gareth winced and grunted as her muscles squeezed him. As sensitive as he was, he couldn’t deny how good it still felt for her to respond against him. Michelle’s cry of delight had faded away, though her pussy still coiled around his fading erection.
It wasn’t until he was nearly completely soft, and about to pull himself out of her, that he felt the heat in his leg.
“What is that,” he muttered rather sleepily, lifting his arm to look underneath it. On his outer thigh, about halfway up, he ran his fingers over a small red bump in the skin. When he applied pressure, a sharp pain shot down his leg. The entire are was red, heated, fevered. “What the fuck is that?” he repeated, trying to fight a growing fog in his brain.
“What the fuck do you think it is?”
“W-What?” Gareth tried to turn his head in the direction of the voice, but his vision lagged behind his head and made him dizzy. Was that—Michelle? He blinked several times, trying to clear his blurry vision as he lost his balance and fell backwards onto the floor. As he lay flat on the ground, his cock dripping and soft between his legs, a figure came into view above him—an angelic vision. “Michelle.”
She giggled, but it didn’t sound nice. “Yeah. That’s right.” Then she held up something clear, with a long needle at the end…his syringes! His prototypes! Obviously seeing the distress in his expression, she smiled. “Is this yours? Oops!”
This was bad. This was very, very bad. He had taken out his prototypes and set them to the side so he couldn’t get them confused! These were not ready to be tested on humans yet, and definitely not on him! He didn’t really even know what they would fully do! “Oh god,” Gareth moaned, sitting up and burying his face in his hands as he felt his heart start to accelerate. He was starting to panic. He was smart enough to know that, but he didn’t know how to stop it.
“You know what the best part is?” Michelle asked, and didn’t wait for an answer. “I don’t even know why I did it! I just know you totally deserve it!” She burst into giggles and threw the syringe across the room, now that she was done with it. “Gosh, you really are pitiful.”
“What?” That was enough to make Gareth’s temper start to boil. He hated when people said shit like that. But, weirdly, he could only feel his throat start to close up. It felt…familiar…like he was about to—
“Like, you really thought you could bring me here under the guise of showing me something really cool, and then, like, just fucking me? So many guys have fucked me, dude. You’re not fucking special. Ohmigod, it’s like you think you are special. Let me tell you, you pervertido, you’re not even that good of a fuck. Ugh, and you kind of smell. Like, how did I not notice that before! Ewww!”
“I don’t s-smell,” Gareth whined, wiping his nose and beginning to sniffle. No. No no no. He couldn’t cry. That was something he absolutely could not do. He was the man here. He couldn’t let her push him around like this. He needed to stand up for himself—maybe put her down in the process? “D-Don’t be meannn,” he whimpered, and wrinkled his nose at how pitiful he sounded.
Michelle burst into a fit of cruel laughter, wiping her eyes when tears began falling, and not even caring that she was still topless. When she finally stopped, and her eyes focused on his again, he recoiled at the look in them. “You so totally do smell! Like a wet dog or something. You need a bath, don’t you?”
Gareth’s eyes widened as he realized which syringe she had injected into him. Before he could panic, he began repeating to himself: “You can fix it, you can fix it, youcanfixit youcanfixit! Fuck!” He cleared his throat and wiped his wet eyes, his cheeks beginning to feel raw as tears ran down them. He had to stop crying before she could make fun of him for it. Clearing his throat again, he tried to push himself off the ground, but cried out when he felt a hand on his shoulder push him back down.
He landed hard on his ass, knowing he would feel a bruise later, and felt more tears streaming down his cheeks. “Why d-did you do-do—do that?” he asked in a shaky, hurt voice. He didn’t understand why she was being so mean to him!
“Are you crying?”
The question came like being shot. It was exactly what he was afraid of, and he didn’t know why he couldn’t stop crying. As he curled into himself and tried to stop the tears, his body began rapidly shrinking in size, similar, in a way to Michelle’s initial shrinking. He could feel it, like a feathery tickle across his body, and then a warm feeling as his muscles lost their strength and he grew soft and pliant. Though he wasn’t as short as Michelle, he felt somehow smaller, and continued to shy away from her.
She was watching the changes now, her eyes wide and her lips wide open. While Gareth could barely find the strength, both mentally and physically, to hold himself up with his arms, his body zapped him of energy with its rapid changes. And she had no idea what she was watching take place, that it was perhaps the second miracle he had performed, and no one would ever know.
“I said, are you crying, perdedor?”
“No,” Gareth sniffled, wiping his eyes again and begging himself to stop, please stop. Please stop embarrassing yourself in front of her. “I’m not. I’m sorry.”
Michelle snorted, crossing her arms and throwing her hip to one side. He didn’t know how she managed to look so threatening without any clothes, but it scared him. “What the fuck are you sorry for?”
“I don’t know I’m sorry!” he said in one breath, hiding his head beneath his hands in case she hit him. As he sniffled, his penis gradually began to shrink in size. His balls shrank as well, pulling upwards slightly as he squirmed and whimpered on the on the floor. His overgrown hair grew out another inch, no longer greasy, and began to fluff out considerably. “P-Please, please forgive me!”
“Ugh, whatever. You are so needy.”
“No I’m not!” Gareth barked in retort, his voice strangely high pitched. He lifted one hand, curling his fingers loosely beneath his wrist for a moment before shaking his head and putting his hand back on the ground.
Michelle clicked her tongue and narrowed her eyes at Gareth, as if she were taking a second look. “Although…” she began, and trailed off without finishing her thought. Gareth looked up, his eyes almost dry, and blinked back new tears with his long lashes when he saw an unpleasant smile cross her face. His face was significantly rounder than it had been before, lacking any of the structure or the length of a truly masculine face, and his round, blue eyes watched her closely. “Maybe a needy little pet is exactly what I need. What do you think?”
“No!” Gareth whined, but he could feel his insides turning over with pleasure at the thought of it. Belonging to her? Like a pet? Gareth pushed himself onto his knees and prepared to stand up, but collapsed with overwhelming pain at the base of his spine.
A new bone began to press out from his tail bone, followed swiftly by more as his tail grew in length. He whimpered and pawed at the ground, shivering when he looked down and saw his penis was no longer than two or three inches long. “Nooo,” he moaned, seeing his balls were much the same—pulled up so high he could barely even see them. And when he felt them, pressing one between a thumb and forefinger, he could scarcely feel the testicle inside. Would he…would he even be able to ejaculate?
“You’re looking worried, honey,” Michelle said, her voice a cloying and unsettlingly sweet sound. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Don’t—don’t touch me!” he gasped, but his body begged for her touch. Why—why did he—love her…so much? “Mmh—Michelle,” he tried again, but when she smiled at him, he felt a warmth spreading through him. It kind of felt…good?
Something was thumping loudly behind him, and Gareth jumped forward, spinning around to see what it was. There was something—was it…hiding? Gareth spun around again and caught sight of it again, just for a moment, something brown and furry. A rat?! Gareth yelped and spun about again, catching another glimpse of the beast. It was teasing him! The insolence! He would teach that vermin to play games with him, he thought, as he began spinning around faster and faster. Gareth jumped up onto his hands and knees to spin, snapping at the creature as it evaded him and barking in annoyance each time he missed it. Darn! He was too slow! He needed to go even faster!
“Ohhh, he’s chasing his tail!” Michelle cooed with a giggle. “Isn’t that adorable?”
But the moment his brain understood the words, he froze in place. He was…chasing? His tail? But…he didn’t have a tail, and even if he did, he definitely wouldn’t chase it. He was smarter than that. Turning his head slowly, Gareth gradually twisted his body until he saw the rat-like appendage disappear from sight again. He gasped and grabbed backwards for it with his hand, whimpering when he did indeed catch hold of a thick, furred tail sticking out from above his small, plump ass. So he…did…chase his tail? Just like a stupid dog?
Gareth hung his head shamefully, cocking his head when his ears popped and stretched. They grew longer, the cartilage reforming into a wide, flat shape until they were too heavy and flopped over on the side of his head. He whimpered and scratched his ear with rapid fingers, his tail hanging between his legs as he tried to figure out what to do next. He had to get out of this, whatever this was, and get back to normal.
Normal.
Gareth cocked his head and tried to think. What did normal mean? Hadn’t he always thought normal was kind of boring? Didn’t he want to be abnormal? Wasn’t he pretty normal, all things considered? This was getting to be too many questions, and Gareth whimpered, feeling overwhelmed.
“Oh, puppy,” Michelle cooed at him again, and surrounded him with a warm hug. “You’re having a hard time adjusting, aren’t you?”
When he nodded into her shoulder, she clucked her tongue a few times and scratched his head lovingly. He leaned into her hand, unable to stop himself from giggling when his leg began shaking slightly with the pleasure. His floppy ears were quickly covered in the same brown fur as his new tail, changing the way they hung as they slid up the sides of his head. When they stopped, just shy of the top of his head, Michelle reached up and took one in her hand. Gareth nearly collapsed in her arms, it felt so good, her fingers gently rubbing the thin skin.
His tail began thudding against the floor again, so happy that she was giving him attention, and she laughed so sweetly that Gareth felt compelled to jump up and lick her face with his long, flared tongue.
“Ew—umm, down boy,” Michelle ordered, and Gareth felt his ass hit the ground immediately. When she saw how quickly he had obeyed her, another smile spread widely across her face. “Good boy.”
His tail slapped against the floor again, and he tried his best to stay in his seated position—knees bent up near his chest and his hands fully touching the ground between them—but it was so hard! He loved Michelle so much, and he wanted her to know all the time how much he loved her. But if she wanted him to stay down, he could do that. He could do that all the time, even though he wanted to be really close to her. But he could be a good boy for her. He wanted to.
“Good boy,” Michelle repeated, a little more firmly, pursing her lips proudly when she realized how well he listened. Maybe he could be a little bit useful after all. Gareth was so happy to hear her praise him again that he couldn’t resist thanking her.
“Arf! Thank you, mis-mistress! Arf arf!” Each time he barked, barely more than a pitiful human noise, it sent a bolt of pleasure straight to his little, dripping cock. Maybe he should do it more often?
“Mistress?” Michelle asked, repeating him. Her eyes were distant with thought for a moment, and then she nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think I can totally work with that! Don’t worry, puppy,” she reassured him, and he offered a happy yip and more wagging of his tail in response. He waited dutifully at her feet, mouth wide open and tongue lolling out happily, until she reached out and scratched his head again. “I’m going to take, like, such good care of you!”
