Compulsory Change

Quinten didn't know what was happening anymore. He was stuck on a sofa wearing clothes he didn't even recognize, wondering what was even real. He couldn't move from the spot even if he wanted to, not able to control himself anymore. He wondered if he'd ever get his control back.

He had been in a part of town he wasn't familiar with, looking at interesting shops when he found himself in some sort kink store. He was browsing the various options, ending up in the back near the changing rooms when some man carrying some pink jockstrap cornered him.

The man spoke in another language, trying to get Quinten to take the jockstrap and pointing to the changing room. Quinten tried to resolve the situation, communicating that he didn't understand, but the man wouldn't let up, continuing to gesture at the jockstrap. Quinten finally figured out the man wanted him to try it on, see how it fit him. Quinten relented, heading into the changing room with the item to strip.

As the elastic snapped into place, Quinten felt something strange shift on his inside. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but without covering himself up instantly walked back out the room to where the man was waiting with more gear.

"Good boy, now try this on" The man said in perfect English.

Quinten felt himself go pale. He'd been tricked, instantly concerned about his safety. He wanted to run back and grab his clothes, get out, but for some reason his hands moved forward, taking the items before starting to make his way back toward the changing room.

His breath started to shake as his body moved without his consent. He felt his stomach quivering in anxiety as he returned to the back room and stepped in front of the mirror, getting to look at himself again. He felt weird, almost like the world were bigger around him, gasping when he saw the changes starting around the pink jock.

Dark black hair had started to curl up from under the band, moving up onto his stomach and covering it with fur. He watched as it continued up to his chest, washing it in the black tendrils hiding the skin underneath. His body started moving on its own again, putting on a sleeveless plaid with sandals, finished by a hat with an ox on it.

The moment the cap was over his head everything seemed to go quiet. His thoughts had gone silent, suddenly unable to remember anything from his past. He could hardly think about anything for a solid few seconds, his emotions overwhelming him feeling desperate. He barely got a chance to look in the mirror again, seeing his own empty gaze, nothing visible behind his own eyes before his body left the room.

Quinten returned to the man in the store, leaving his clothes in the changing room. He couldn't stop himself from following the stranger onto the street, worried how his entire body exposed to the public, realizing no one would recognize him anyway. He was led down an alley to some sort of studio, where he was told to sit on the side and wait.

He was finally able to get good look at himself again as he sat. He had definitely shrunk, his body losing a bunch of weight with muscles pushing visibly out on his skin. The hair had spread to the rest of his body, a thick beard formed around his jaw, his limbs covered in a healthy dose of fur. The hair had wrapped around his back, covering his exposed rear and legs.

The worst part was his bulge. His dick had started growing, swelling thicker and thicker into the material. The only thing that kept it in was the elastic, the two in a constant battle as his member kept trying to slip out. He couldn't stop himself from being aroused by the pressure around it, a permanent semi-hard developing in the pouch. It had become painful, but that sensation only seemed make him even harder.

He didn't know what to do other than stare forward, his hand wrapping around his head wondering why this was happening. He had a feeling things had only just started.