By Loakachunk (http://loakachunk.tumblr.com/tagged/Jock-strap)
This is so hot, the freshman thought, as he peered around the corner of the locker room to watch the two massive linebackers making out. At least, he assumed they were linebackers. They were in the team area of the locker room and they were both easily north of 300 pounds, if their broad backsides and jiggling flesh were any indications.
The freshman, Joel, was just getting changed back into his size medium street clothes when he heard heavy footfalls in the row of lockers over, followed by the unmistakable sound of two sloppy lips making out. He turned the corner and was shocked and delighted at what he saw. He recognized Erick, the team’s’ offensive center, but the behemoth he was macking with didn’t ring a bell.
He was certainly hot though. He was at least as big as Erick - maybe even bigger - and certainly just as hairy, a thick pelt coating his back to run up and over his shoulders. When he inhaled and literally caused his pants to explode off him, Joel saw he was hairy everywhere else too, and especially on his massive rear, where between his cracks seemed a veritable forest.
That was also when Joel went from half mast to full, screaming hardon. When the guy Erick was groping seemed to shudder and moan Joel knew he’d just cum in his jockstrap, and he cursed himself for not having the presence of mind to capture the moment on his cellphone.
Joel reached into his pockets and realized his cell phone wasn’t there. He must have left it in the locker. He tried to quietly pad back to where he’d left his stuff, but rather than remain silent he stumbled over his own feet and slammed and open locker shut. He cursed himself again and grabbed his camera as quickly as he could, but by the time he returned the two linebackers were gone.
Sighing, Joel turned to leave but spotted something before he did. It was the jockstrap the big guy Erick had been making out with was wearing. It was still obviously wet with the guy’s cum and reeked of his BO, and Joel couldn’t imagine a sweeter smell. He huffed the jockstrap for a few moments before he realized he was standing in the middle of the locker room with a tent big enough to spot from space.
Sheepishly, he stuffed the jockstrap into his bag and headed straight back to his dorm room, skipping his afternoon classes.
As soon as Joel closed the door to his room he couldn’t wait any longer. He dropped his bag, took out the jockstrap, sniffed its heady scent, and immediately felt his cock harden in his pants. Five minutes later and he’d already cum once, using the jockstrap to wipe away the excess that dribbled down his 5-inch shaft.
The moment the stinking, soaked cotton touched his shaft it was like an electric jolt went through him. He became hard again, desperately so, using the jockstrap as a cock sleeve and running the soaked material over his aching pole until he came again, and then again, strangely feeling like he was cumming more with every load, and yet not a drop escaped the jockstrap’s cup. It was as though the thoroughly drenched material were drinking his ejaculations.
An hour later and finally Joel felt himself tire. He’d lost count how many times he’d cum. His room reeked of BO and jizz, just like the locker room had in the wake of Erick and that linebacker’s mack session, only amplified in the small dimensions of Joel’s dorm room.
He lay the jock on the bedside table where it made faint squishing sound, somehow giving the impression of satisfaction despite being a cum and sweat-soaked garment. Then Joel gathered up his clothes to head to the dorm cafeteria. All that jerkin’ seemed to have given him an appetite.
Half an hour later Joel practically waddled back to his dorm room having eaten more fast food than he’d ever before. The button on his size 30 jeans no longer closed as his belly bowed out in an obvious bulge.
But Joel didn’t arrive empty-handed. After having his fill in the cafeteria he’d made his way to the school store where he bought bag after bag of candy, chips, and packaged pastries. Once the door had closed behind him he immediately tore open a bag and began devouring its contents. Then he did it to a second, and then a third.
He hardly noticed the first tear in his jeans as his thighs ballooned to nearly twice there original size, nor did he notice his rounded belly surge out from beneath his t-shirt. All he knew was an endless cycle of food, then hunger, then satisfaction.
Hours later and Joel’s room had become covered in candy wrappers. At some point, he’d noticed his former boxers all around him in tatters, which prompted Joel to reach for the jockstrap to prevent complete nudity. The thought was ludicrous but somehow compelling. He drew the jockstrap up thighs far larger than he’d possessed earlier that day and placed the straps around his waist and beneath each ass cheek, letting the elastic material naturally sit in the grooves and creases of his body - grooves that hadn’t existed when he woke up that morning.
Strangest of all, the crusty material seemed to cup his package tightly, as though straining against the organ it not contained. It seemed impossible, given how Joel remembered the linebacker’s beefy body and enormous bulge filled the jockstrap to capacity, and he was hardly as big as that stud.
That logic seemed to quell the note of doubt that surfaced in Joel’s mind telling him things were not as they should be. So calmed, he flopped into his bed wearing nothing but the jockstrap and fell into a deep slumber. Joel never noticed how the elastic bands seemed to expand with him while he slept.
______________________
Joel dreamed. He dreamed of a body he no longer recognized. He dreamed of surging flesh and bulging muscles, of impossible circumference and incredible length. He dreamed of fur-covered flesh slamming into thick slabs of meat, of sweat, spit, and oceans of cum. He dreamed that he stood in the center of it all, a monument to masculine excess and hedonism.
And then Joel awoke.
Like most mornings, Joel stared at the sun’s rays and cursed their ability to sneak through the slats of his window blinds. Then he tried to roll over so he was facing the opposite wall–a futile gesture, as even he knew the morning sun would put a stop to any possibility of extra shut-eye.
Only this morning when he tried to roll over his body assailed him with a cacophony of alien signals. Everything felt odd–he felt his belly press against a flat surface, he felt cool air on his feet and ankles, and an odd warmth and pressure on his arms, neck, and groin. It all felt…wrong.
Joel rolled back and stared at the ceiling for a moment before he whipped off his blanket and tossed it to the side. Then he rolled to the other side of his bed and promptly fell off of it with a loud thud.
Everything about the move was unexpected. Every other morning he would have simply planted his feet on the floor and gotten up in a single fluid motion. Now, he was lying face first on the floor. But stranger still was the loud noise that had occurred during the impact–as though someone had dropped something very, very heavy right where he fell.
Joel tried to push himself up, but stopped short as soon as his hand came into his field of vision. The lithe, dextrous digits he remembered didn’t sprout from his tiny limbs any longer. Instead, he saw massive sausages attached to a hand that was better described as a paw the size of a dinner plate. Attached to it was an arm that looked as large around as Joel’s former thigh.
Alarmed, Joel pushed himself to his knees and then hauled himself upright with a grunt. Then peering down Joel saw only a vast expanse of hairy flesh rather than his legs and feet. In fact, he could barely see past his chest, which stuck out like an enormous shelf beneath a neck that seemed to no longer exist.
It took a few moments for what Joel was seeing to sink in. He was no longer in his body. He was occupying something much, much larger. He was huge.
He looked around the room to find it wasn’t just his waistline than had expanded–everything seemed slightly different. Another few moments later Joel realized he was looking at everything from a slightly different angle. A slightly higher angle.
Joel turned to the full-length mirror on the door to his dorm room and nearly screamed. His reflection didn’t fit in the mirror he was so enormous. All he could see was a jowly double chin, the center of the twin mounds of flesh that made up his chest, and the middle strip of an enormous, hairy belly, complete with a baseball-sized navel. Below that was dark and hard to see at the angle Joel now peered from, but the shadows there seemed to preview something as large as the rest of him.
Standing there, dumbstruck, he ran a massive paw over his titanic torso. He found the whole experience strange. Joel expected to have difficulty heaving his enormous bulk, even lifting his ham-like arms, but instead every movement felt effortless, just as easy as it was yesterday. No, instead, what Joel noted was the differing perspective, how much more of the room he occupied and how different everything seemed by being just a few inches taller. The only weight he truly felt was at his extremities: at the tips of his tits, ass, and belly as gravity constantly tugged downward while his skin pulled them back into place. It was a constant sensation of motion.
But none were as weighty, or as gratifying, as the one between his massive thighs. Joel couldn’t see over the crest of his own mass, and to his dismay he found he could neither reach from a standing position, but he could feel the incredible mass that strained to escape the jockstrap’s mesh.
The jockstrap. He was still wearing it. He reached behind and found that he could still grasp elastic band that cut into his elephantine form and encircled his waist. Or perhaps more accurately sunk into the deep crevice that defined the massive spare tire that encircled his waist and surged into his sagging gut.
Joel knew instinctively that this was the jockstraps fault. He tried to grasp it but found it difficult to slip his thick digits between his soft flesh and the elastic band. He spent a few more minutes vainly trying to find purchase when a loud knock on the door caused him to freeze.
Lumbering to the door, Joel peered out the small peephole to see who was there. It was the linebackers he’d spied in the room from yesterday–the ones he’d stolen the jockstrap from. He froze again and the bigger one brought his own ham-like arm back to the door to bang on it again.
“Hey, open up!” He shouted.
Fuck. If he kept that up he’d wake up the whole dorm! Joel didn’t know what to do, but realized he had to keep these two from waking up his neighbours. He reached down with a hand that could now easily engulf the entire doorknob and then started to turn it open.
As soon as the latch clicked he felt the door swing up with enough force to cause even Joel to stumble back into the room, his hugely obese body wobbling as he tried to prevent himself from tumbling on his enormous ass.
“Good morning,” said the smaller one, although the difference was slight. They were both huge, having to turn slightly just to fight through the doorway. They barreled through with one taking up station in a corner while the other closed the door behind him. It was a small dorm room designed for even smaller students, and even though each of the occupants was in separate corners of the room they were all so large they weren’t much more than an arm’s length from each other.
“Looks like we found my jock strap,” the smaller one spoke again. Small was perhaps misleading as he was easily 350 pounds. The larger one seemed closer to 400. Both had buzzed haircuts and equal-length beards that seemed to flow down their necks and presumably continue beneath the enormous, stained t-shirts both wore.
Joel could only guess how much he weighed, but he could tell from the way he looked down at both of them he was at least taller than they were.
“Woo,” the smaller one breathed. “Damn thing made this one into a huge butterball.”
“Sure did,” the bigger one agreed.
Joel felt an odd rage well up inside him. He was bigger than both of them, and he wouldn’t be pushed around. Not anymore.
He tried to keep his voice low to keep from waking the dorm and was surprised at how baritone his words sounded. “What the fuck are you talking about? What’s going on?”
The smaller one winked to his compatriot and then stalked forward, hand outstretched.