Date: Sun, 4 Jun 2006 03:52:17 -0700 (PDT) From: Alistair Bentley Subject: Headshop-Neighbors-08-Room-Mates Headshop: Neighbors Chapter 8: Room Mates By Xformguy@yahoo.com Cameron could tell that Duane was suspicious as he entered the living room and Cameron shut the door. Cameron couldn't blame him; so much strange had happened to him because of Brandon, and occupying Brandon's body while professing to help didn't quite go over as well as expected. Duane entered and sauntered over to the couch. Cameron immediately felt a rise in his libido as he watched Duane move. Duane was about 6'4" and normally stacked with muscle. He had seen Duane's body unclothed before in the gym, and had even helped Duane pack on the muscle he wore like all gym-buds do. But today, he was filling out the coffee-colored, loose-fitting shirt in a way that Cameron hadn't seen before. The buttons on the front strained a bit when he moved just the right way and he filled out the shoulders tightly. His chinos were stretched over his ass and quads, but were still loose enough to hide his package. Today, Duane wore bright white sneakers, obviously new, that looked gigantic. Cameron watched this, feeling Brandon's body react. He felt his ever-horny cock stir in his own jeans, felt it start to fill out his bikini briefs - - pushed to the side, along his hip, again. He felt his breathing deepen a little as he watched Duane move. He felt the raw, fraternal emotions he had for Duane intermix with the hormones and sexual desire that was raging in his blood until it galvanized into something he had no way to expect: love. Duane surely caught this from the way he was staring like a puppy at him and that only intensified his suspicions. "He turned you into himself?" Duane asked. "Yeah," Cameron told him, gesturing to his twink body, "It's worse. I have to bust my nut inside someone every 12 hours or I get younger and younger." Duane considered this. "Every 12 hours? Jeez . . . that could get old." "I guess," Cameron agreed, "What's going on with you?" Duane's hand drifted to his crotch and he took hold of himself through the chino's. The pants had been loose enough to hide it, but once outlined, he revealed a huge package, far bigger than Cameron remembered him being. "It keeps getting bigger?" Cameron said, remembering their talk the office. "Ever since that night with the Latino kid, every time I get aroused, it gets longer and thicker," Duane said, "My nuts swell up huge. It doesn't sound like a problem, except it doesn't stop. The longer I'm hard, the more huge it gets - - and it's getting freaky huge. Cameron couldn't help it. He wanted to see Duane naked. He wanted to see this happen to Duane and it burned him that it might hurt Duane in the process, make him more of a freak. Memories of Duane in the locker room flooded back. He could imagine Duane's huge body on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table, stroking his huge, uncut cock, only for it to become even larger. He wanted to see how large it got. He wanted to touch it . . . to taste it. Cameron knew this was Brandon's hormones talking. He'd been forced to inhabit a 20-year-old gay boy's horny body . . . no wonder he was having sexual thoughts about his best friend. Fuck! He couldn't help it. The fact that his head was reeling from some very excellent pot wasn't helping. His hand wandered to his jeans and he outlined his cock the same way Duane was doing it. Duane saw them both holding themselves and got a strange look on his face. He let go of his crotch, and shuffled toward the couch, sitting down heavily. He looked down at his hands. "What else is going on, Duane?" Cameron asked, moving to the coffee table. "I can't think straight anymore," Duane said, "I can't remember things . . . simple things . . . and I can't remember going to college." "You're more buff too," Cameron remarked, "I don't think I've seen your shoulders this wide before." Duane nodded, distress on his face. He leaned back and propped one of his white tennis shoes on the table. "My feet are getting bigger, too," he said, "What the fuck is up with that?!" He gestured emphatically at them and Cameron could see they were a lot bigger than he remembered. Duane had always been a big guy, but his shoes were huge. "Size 18!" he said, "What's the advantage of giving me ape feet??" "That Eddie guy has a foot fetish," Cameron said, "That's probably why." "There's something going changing on my sole," Duane said, his face looking churning up raw emotion. "What's happening to me?" Cameron moved forward and started to untie Duane's shoe. "Whatever is happening, we'll get through it," he reassured, "We stuck together before; we'll do it again now." Duane nodded and positioned his foot so that Cameron could take off the shoe. They were both silent as Cameron pulled off Duane's sock, revealing the huge, perfectly shaped masculine foot. It was Duane's foot. It was the same overall shape that Cameron remembered seeing when Duane had worn sandals, or been in the shower. The thought of his buff friend in the shower made his cock twinge again, reaffirming the hard-on that had already formed. Duane's foot was the same shape as before, but it was huge. His foot had to be longer than Cameron's - - Brandon's - - forearm and wider than Cameron thought possible. The toes were gigantic and long, nearly the length of normal fingers. His fingers and thumb dug into the sole of the Duane's foot with a gentle massage and he worked his palm around the heel, feeling the bones of the ankle and the fleshy warmth of the sole. He was about to tell Duane that nothing looked different when he found the fold of skin just below the curve of the foot's ball, nestled between the two round areas as if nestled below a pair of pecs. It was all he could do to resist rubbing the sole against his face. He was still high and his impulse control was suffering, but he managed to avoid it. "Yeah, right there," Duane said, then gasped and leaned his head back as Cameron's thumb rubbed over the skin. "Jesus . . ." he whispered. Cameron removed his thumb immediately. "Does it hurt?" Duane shook his head and Cameron glanced up at his face, a look of pleasure radiating from it through his previous distress. "Guess not." Cameron thumbed the region again and Duane reacted the same way, shifting his ass in the seat of the couch. Cameron peered close to the fold of skin, looking close at the tiny wrinkles. "What is it?" Duane asked. "Well . . ." Cameron hesitated, "It looks like . . . a frenum." "A what?" Duane asked, a genuine look of confusion on his face. Cameron looked at his friend a long moment. There was a blankness on his face. He really didn't know what a frenum was. "You know," Cameron said, "the underside of your cock? The sensitive part?" It took Duane a moment to process this. "I've got cock feet?" he said, leaning forward and turning his sole toward him. He reached down and ran his forefinger across the spot; his eyes rolled back into his head and he sat back. He propped his other foot on the table next to his bare one. "Check the other one." Cameron dutifully took off the other shoe and sock and took the mammoth foot in his hand. He rubbed the sole in the same way, thumbs and fingers, probing the same spot. Duane sighed and flexed his foot as Cameron's thumb found the "frenum" on his other foot The look of surprised, disturbed ecstasy on Duane's face intoxicated Cameron. Whatever the cause - - post-adolescent hormones, Brandon's biochemical faggotry, or his own fraternal affection for Duane - - he was getting off on causing Duane pleasure. His own cock was rock hard in his pants and had started to leak. He felt the precum on his hip and, while one hand touched Duane's strange new foot, the other was squeezing his shaft. Cameron, following an instinct, leaned forward and licked the frenum spot. Duane threw his head back and jutted his hips off the couch, balancing on his heels. "Oh fuck," he breathed. Cameron looked up and saw the bulge in Duane's pants expanding down the inside of his leg. "It's happening." Duane didn't waste any time. He leapt up onto his feet and frantically worked on getting his belt and chinos undone. Cameron watched as his cock strained against the fabric, as it tried to stand out from Duane's body. It had been pushed down his pants leg and now Duane was wincing as the hard-on was trapped. He fumbled with the belt, then practically tore open the front of his pants, pushing them and the jock he had been wearing to his ankles. He leaned back and flexed his hips reflexively. And there was Duane's cock. Having seen Duane's cock flaccid many times, Cameron couldn't immediately tell if the shape of it was really different, but he suspected it had changed. It was inhumanly long and thick, and seemed to be growing steadily. Duane held onto the base with his fist and had the look of someone who was mightily trying to avoid freaking out. His cock kept growing, moving through the normal lengthening and thickening of any many getting an erection - - just not stopping at a human size. Soon enough, Duane had to hold it with two fists at the base and it still pressed outward, the shaft pushing the bulbous mushroom head out of its foreskin covering and farther away from him. Duane looked like he was in a little pain and Cameron looked underneath Duane's fists to see his nut sack bulging too. Duane had always been hung with low-hangers, but now, his scrotum was full like a water balloon and was gradually getting bigger along with his cock. Duane sighed as his cock stretched outward and thickened, pushing the fingers of his fist away from one another. Cameron sat back on his knees and, amid his weed-induced haze, abandoned any pretense of his own lust, undoing his own pants and freeing his own trapped cock, while he watched Duane take a fist and stroke his monster. It kept lengthening and Duane grunted as his fist reached the head. A dollop of precum spat out and plopped audibly onto the coffee table. Duane's cock had to be twice the length of the largest human cock on Earth when it stopped growing. He stood there, panting, his muscles and face clenched. His cock jutted from his double fists, slowly turning dark pink. Duane still winced as his nuts expanded and he let go of his pendulous column to hold them in his palm, supporting their weight. They went from being a handful, to a double handful, then, he had to sit down and prop them on the couch. His nutsack was the size of a cantaloupe and Cameron could only watch in awe as he stroked his own manhood, kneeling on the other side of the coffee table. "It'll get bigger," Duane said breathlessly, "the longer it's hard." His cock bounced of its own accord as if to punctuate the sentence. "It hurts?" Cameron asked. "Fuck Cameron, what are you doing?" Duane asked, suddenly noticing that Cameron was jacking off at the sight of him. Cameron lowered his head. "I don't know," he said, "I can't help myself. I'm a fag in this body. Brandon's a fag . . . now so am I." Then Duane grunted in discomfort and he let out a long, slow breath. Cameron perked up and watch as his shirt stretched across his chest. The seams around his biceps popped suddenly and Cameron was hit in the face with the button that launched itself from Duane's pecs. His coffee colored shirt split to reveal his muscular, hairless chest. Duane reeled from the sensations of this, sitting back, holding his massive member. He tried in vain to kick off his chinos completely, but they were caught on his oversized feet. When he reoriented on Cameron, his face held a blankness, overcome by the physical sensations he was feeling. "I can't think . . ." he babbled, his lip moist with spittle. He angled his cock upward until the glans nestled at the bottommost edge of the divide in his pecs. He looked at it confused . . . fascinated. "Too fucking horny," he said. "So . . ." Cameron said, "You're slowly turning into a big, dumb jock?" Duane started to stroke his cock in long, slow shaft-strokes. When he hit the glans, his head fell back and his face contorted with pleasure. He kicked again at his pants, then shed his shirt roughly, popping more buttons from it. "You have to make it stop," Duane said, "Please Brandon. Don't do this to me." "I'm not Brandon," Cameron countered harshly. Duane looked confused and distraught, like he couldn't figure out what was happening to him. He stroked again and kicked is feet hard, managing to free one of them from the chinos. "I don't want to be this way. Make it stop." Cameron understood the emotion that was rampaging through Duane. He had felt it during the pig-incident . . . becoming something you didn't understand and didn't want . . . the violation of having your flesh manipulated. At the same time, powerful emotions were moving through Cameron as well . . . he shared Duane's anguish because of their friendship . . . and the newly coalesced love he had for Duane surprised him in its intensity. Cameron stood up, hauling up his jeans and briefs to mid-thigh to be able to walk. He went to Duane and stood between his legs. He touched his palm to Duane's face and Duane looked up at him, his despair softening. Duane hugged him close, wrapping his titanic arms around Cameron and burying his face in Cameron's stomach. They stayed that way for a minute, until Duane's hands started to explore Cameron's - - Brandon's - - back and ass. Duane pulled his face away and looked up at Cameron's expression. "So horny," Duane said thickly, as if forming the words were an extreme effort. There was something strange about how Duane looked . . . his forehead and brow . . . seemed more prominent. "When you fucked me," Duane managed, "I . . . liked it." Duane focused on Brandon's pink spike and reached up with a meaty hand and gripped it by the base, catching Brandon's nuts in the same moment. Cameron winced as Duane squeezed them; he didn't know his own strength. Duane didn't seem aware of it, but he was still changing. Cameron could see his shoulders, his pecs, his arms, still getting stronger and larger. They were slowly expanding, as if every time Duane exhaled, they got just a touch bigger. His hands were huge now, matching his gigantic feet, and the palm wrapped around Cameron's - - no! Brandon's - - cock roughly. The sensation was intense, pleasure and pain mixing. Cameron was reaching the boiling point also, his post-adolescent body primed for sex. He wanted to shoot so bad, and held off only through force of will. If he shot now, outside of Duane's body . . . he'd get younger. He couldn't face that. He couldn't be a boy again. Duane ran his hands up Cameron's torso, hitting all the trigger points - - pubes, nipples, neck - - then got annoyed at Cameron's shirt. He grabbed the neckline and pulled down, effortlessly ripping the blue Superman t-shirt open, revealing Cameron's - - BRANDON'S! - - pink, lean torso. "Ohgod," Cameron breathed. He felt his cock reacting . . . pumping out precum by the stream into Duane's grip. Looking into Duane's face, any pretense of resisting the sexual urges he felt was gone. Duane's eyes were dilated to black disks, his mouth was open and his lips wet. His face and chest were getting flushed and Cameron watched the mammoth cock jerk on its own, getting just a touch longer and thicker as it did. Cameron knew that they were both about to fall over a cliff - - Duane might already have jumped over the edge. Try as he might, he couldn't think of a reason not to follow him. Whatever he had become, he couldn't fight it. He loved Duane and Duane's body was making him react. He needed to shoot inside it. There was no denying it. "What's cum taste like?" Duane asked him. "ohfuck," Cameron said and grabbed his ears. He angled Duane's face onto his pole and buried it inside Duane's throat. Duane took it easily - - far easier than Cameron had expected - - and didn't gag on it. He started pumping it into his best friend's face. Cameron was close to shooting when Duane did something stupid. Duane still had a grip on Cameron's cock and nuts - - fuck! they were Brandon's! Cameron couldn't stop thinking of them as his own, but the idea pissed him off - - and he started to massage them. But, Duane didn't realize his strength now and ended up crushing Cameron's nuts, making him bark out in pain and totally derailing the orgasm that had been pending. The pain was intense and Cameron couldn't quite form words. His hands immediately tried to pry off Duane's huge fingers, but Duane was extremely strong now. Duane's face was alight with animal, sexual pleasure that formed a stupid grin on his face. "Leggo . . ." Cameron managed, "Duane . . . leggo!" He was still working on Duane's fingers and then punched Duane's wrist as hard as he could. Duane did release him and Cameron stumbled backward, tripping on the edge of the coffee table and on his own jeans that were down to his knees; he fell ungainly, but softly on the carpet between the couch and the coffee table. Duane didn't waste any time. He planted his huge feet on the carpet and leaned forward. He took Cameron by the ankle and hauled him up - - fuck! he had gotten about three times stronger than he should be - - popping off his shoes and socks roughly. He had a wide, stupid smile on his face as he did this, and in short order, Cameron was stripped of his shoes, socks, briefs, and jeans. Duane turned him around and around as he did this to Cameron, leaving Cameron on his chest, face in the carpet when Duane dropped him. It was like Duane was manipulating a child or a sack of potatoes. Cameron scrambled up and stood in front of Duane and his jaw dropped. It hadn't been quite this obvious when Duane was sitting on the couch, but he had gotten bigger, much bigger. Duane was about 6'8" now, but the growth was all in his torso. His legs looked exactly the same size. This had the effect of making him look absurdly disproportional. But it wasn't just the length of his torso, it was the width. His shoulders were wide enough to totally shred his coffee-colored shirt down the back, and his pecs had gotten titanic; slabs of muscle topped by pointy, pink nipples. Duane stretched and growled as he did, throwing his arms up and back, to pull on his pecs. He dropped his huge arms and twisted from side to side, eliciting boney pops from his spine as he did. Cameron saw his arms lengthen - - saw them get longer as his forearms bulged out. And then it happened. Cameron stepped back out of the way, because it was clear that Duane's torso had gotten too top-heavy. He fell forward, right onto his newly lengthened arms, and propped himself up on his fists. His face was full of pleasure, confusion, and something else a little stranger than Cameron couldn't identify, but it was also clear that his brow had gotten thicker and more prominent. Duane's body was still human looking; except for the strange changes, his skin was still a tawny pink, nearly hairless, and popping with muscle. He was nearly an anatomy lesson in his definition as every ounce of body fat must've burned off. And his huge, pendulous cock was stuck to his belly, slowly working it way out from under him through its continuous growth. Duane's legs were spread to accommodate his melon of a nut sack. He looked for all the world like a great hairless ape. Duane growled and moved forward, comfortable on all fours. He loped forward and rubbed against Cameron with his shoulder, burying his face in the nape of Cameron's neck. He kissed Cameron softly, then nibbled with his teeth. Duane's hand came up and gripped Cameron by the hip, drawing him forward to the point that Cameron was loosing his footing. The hardon that he'd lost from getting nutted by Duane was returning with a vengeance. And Duane collected him like an ape would collect a child, holding Cameron's torso against his own with one hand, lifting him off his feet. Then Duane loped forward, one arm holding Cameron, the other used for propulsion. Duane knocked over the coffee table - - spilling the shoebox full of disembodied cocks - - and went down the hall to the bedroom where he deposited Cameron thickly on the bed. Duane nuzzled him again - - conveying love? Affection? - - then turned his huge body around so that Cameron was faced with Daune's bubble butt, muscular and round. "Cam fuck Duane," Duane coughed out and Cameron - - piloting Brandon's body - - didn't have to be asked twice.