He paced into the locker room to towel off and get changed, but as usual, he lingered in front of the mirror.
“Mmm,” he said, admiring himself. “It almost isn’t fair, is it? All of these lowlifes get to gaze upon perfection.”
Tyler definitely had a swimmer’s body. Long and lean. Chiseled and toned. He was a model, which meant the eight hours a day that most of the people in this place were working, he could spend polishing his already magnificent good looks. His skin was flawless and smooth, glistening with the water from the pool. An almost religious tanning regimen left him bronzed like a Greek god. His face had graced a dozen different magazine covers and billboards with good reason, as he had the classic good looks that plastic surgeons only wish they could replicate. A snug green speedo was the only thing hiding any part of his sculpted anatomy. It wrapped his package like a beautiful gift.
He slid this thumbs into the waistband of his speedo, ready to peel it off so that he could shower and get changed.
“Lookin’ good,” rumbled a voice from behind him.
Tyler froze and turned. The man who had spoken was, in a word, big. He was at least a foot taller than Tyler and just overall bulkier. He wore a pair of black swimming trunks. The guy wasn’t bad looking, but compared to Tyler, the difference between them was downright jarring.
“Heh. Yeah. I know,” Tyler said. “Trust me, I don’t need you, to tell me.”
“I’m new around here. Name’s Jim,” he said, holding out his hand.
Tyler reluctantly shook his hand.
“So,” Jim said. “You single?”
“Hah! Yeah, Jim. I’m single. You know what else I am? Out of your league.”
Jim raised an eyebrow. “You’re pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Let’s just say I know ‘hot’ when I see it,” he turned to the mirror. “And I’m looking at it right now.”
“Yeah… So, you need any help getting in shape?” Jim asked.
Tyler scoffed. “In shape? What are you, blind?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, you’re cute.” Jim flexed a python of a bicep. “But you’re not buff like me. But it’s fine. If you don’t think you could handle my shape-up routine, I understand. It’s pretty hardcore.”
Tyler looked at him sharply. “There’s no workout I can’t handle.”
“You obviously just finished swimming. You’re probably all done with your workout for the day. I wouldn’t want you to get all sweated up again.”
“Do you really think you could make me break a sweat?” Tyler crossed his arms. “Bring it on.”
Tyler held up his hand. Jim laced his fingers through Tyler’s putting them in a “test of strength” type position. Tyler took a breath as he felt Jim’s large hands clutch his. This guy was strong.
“Now you’re going to want to push your back against something solid, for support,” Jim said.
The hefty man didn’t wait for Tyler to pick a place. Holding tight to the pretty-boy’s hands, Jim maneuvered him against the smooth tile wall and leaned against him, shoving him hard against it. Slowly he started to lean forward. Tyler flexed his arms and worked his shoulders, resisting larger man. It was difficult, like doing pushups with the hulk of a man resting on his back, but he gritted his teeth and held his ground.
“Okay. Ready to start?” Jim said.
Tyler opened his eyes. The large man’s hands were pressed hard against Tyler’s chest… but Tyler could still feel their palms pressed together. Jim stroked his hands firmly across Tyler’s taut pecks, prompting an involuntary murmur from him. Then Jim took his hands away, grabbed Tyler’s shoulders, and spun him around to look in the mirror.
“There. Look’s like you’re pretty limbered up,” Jim said.
Tyler blinked his eyes at what he saw in the mirror. His arms were… gone. In their place, his hands were flat against his chest, flattened to the point they looked like nothing more than smooth tattoos across this upper chest. He tried to flex his fingers, but all he felt was a distracting tingle when he did. Somehow, even though they’d been squashed down to nearly nothing, he could still feel his arms. They were pleasantly warm and felt almost like they were being tightly caressed, but he realized it was only because they were pinned between his flattened hands and his chest.
He was startled but, if he was honest, more than a bit fascinated.
“It’s just the first step to my shape-up routine.”
“The first step? Look, Jim, I don’t think I want– unhhh.”
He opened his eyes and found that not only were his legs gone, but his torso was greatly compressed. His perfect abs had squished such that his pecs were sitting just above the waist of his speedo. And speaking of the tight green garment, he now had a much closer look at the swelling bulge trapped within.
Jim’s grip shifted from his shoulders to his sides. The hefty fellow lifted the reduced beefcake like a sack of flour.
“Look at that. We’re really getting there, aren’t we?” He leaned his chin on Jim’s shoulder, making eye contact with his reflection. “But I think we’ve got a little something we don’t really need, don’t we?”
“Well, well, well…” Jim said, cupping Tyler’s butt to hold him in one hand. “You’ve definitely been enjoying this, haven’t you?”
“N-no…” Tyler said quietly.
“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you. Let me hold you a little closer.”
Jim placed a hand on top of Tyler’s head and gently pressed. The whole of Tyler’s body quivered and shivered as he felt the tight, rubbery compression seemingly everywhere at once.
“Wouldn’t want you to fall,” Jim said, turning the slightly scrunched torso and head toward him. “Now, we’re not quite done. If you don’t think you can handle the rest of the routine, now’s the time to speak up. Do you want it?”
Jim squeezed a little more. Tyler’s head squished into his shoulders a bit. It was maddening, knowing those powerful hands had him so helpless. He was quite literally putty in Jim’s hands. There was no telling how far it would go.
The tighter his body got, the more sensitive it got. He could feel every twitch square millimeter of Jim’s hands. He could feel Jim’s pulse through his palms.
“Last chance,” Jim said, pressing more.
Tyler wriggled in the iron grip and blushed furiously. He was so squashed now, his own engorged manhood was rising up into his vision.
“Do you want to go all the way?” Jim asked again.
“I…” He shut his eyes, blushing even harder. “Yes.”
With that, the big, strong hands went to work. They began to knead and crush Tyler’s body. The sensitivity grew stronger and stronger. The rough handling rubbed and squeezed all around him. He could feel his shoulders ease away. Things like his ears and noses started to tamp down. His features practically smeared as they shifted over the surface of the ever-tighter ball that made up his body.
The rubbing went on and on, slapping and pinching and squashing. Every part of him felt the pressure and strength, except for the one part that ached for the touch. His shaft stood tall and proud as the rest of him was smoothed and polished. Jim’s hand started to make a rubbery squeak as anything resembling depth on the surface of his body was rubbed away. The heat and friction would have had Tyler panting if he’d still been able to do so, but at this point it felt like his mouth was just another painted on detail.
“There we go,” Jim said, squeaking a thumb across the surface and making Tyler quiver. “Just about perfect. I think I might just take you home with me. But you won’t fit in my gym bag like this.”
He palmed Tyler like a basketball and turned him toward his other hand. Jim opened his other hand, then pressed down against Tyler’s cockhead. With slow, steady pressure, he started to tamp it inward.
“Perfect. Nice and round.”
Jim thrust Tyler against the wall, where his rubbery body rebounded with a rubbery *GLOING* and smacked back into Jim’s hands. The impact sent tremors of pleasure through the man-turned-ball’s body.
Without another word, Jim unzipped his bag and tossed Tyler inside.
What followed was a short, rough ride bouncing about among Jim’s sweaty workout clothes. He was surrounded by the larger man’s scent, and assaulted by all of the different textures. Something as simple as a terrycloth robe or the metallic tines of the inside of the zipper set his mind on fire. Gorgeous.
It was difficult to know how long he was in the bag before the zipper finally opened and those strong hands reached in to pull him free. It had been long enough for his smooth body to become completely glazed in sweat, however, causing Jim to nearly lose him, his fingers squeaking across the smooth surface.
He turned the ball up to face him. The time in the bag also must have been long enough for Jim to take a shower. His large body was fresh and clean, and wrapped only in a robe that he’d neglected to tie closed.
Jim flopped down onto his bed, Tylerball in hand, and sighed deeply.
“I hope you’ve been looking forward to this as much as I have. Because it’s been a rough day, and I need it.”
The big man huffed like a wild animal and started to ease the ball down. Tyler felt the pressure on his back door. He was a tight lay even before “getting in shape,” and he was very sensitive back there. But now, it didn’t even compare. The massive head started to spread him, penetrate him. When it was barely an inch inside, Tyler already felt like he was going to explode, and more of it kept sliding in. All of his insides felt like they were wrapped around the intruding member, squeezing it and soaking up its heat and veiny hardness.
Tyler’s mind felt scrambled. He’d never been filled so thoroughly, and never felt pleasure so powerful. Jim grunted and slid Tyler off his length with a long, slow slither.
“I think you were right,” Jim breathed, holding up his toy. “You might be out of my league. Good thing I never let something like that stop me. I think I’m going to keep you around. Would you like that?”
Tyler blinked dreamily, his eyes seeming to be the only part of him with full motion. He couldn’t agree. He didn’t have to. It was clear that Jim was going to do what he liked regardless. Tyler was powerless to stop him… and he wouldn’t dream of trying.
“I can’t have you rolling around on me. Let’s see what we can do about this.”
Jim placed Tyler between his legs and clutched him with his thighs. The flaccid but still enormous manhood slapped down onto Tyler’s round face. Jim reached aside and pulled open the drawer of his bedside table. He rummaged around a bit, then revealed a large black dildo with a suction cup base. He gave the base a lick and slapped it down onto the surface of the night stand, sticking it on good and tight.
“There we go. The best seat in the house,” Jim said.
He fetched Tyler, lined him up, and gradually eased him down. It produced a long, slow squeak, like someone was drawing on a balloon with a marker. Though the dildo was cold and lacked the vibrant, throbbing life of Jim’s legendary member, the way it squished into all of Tyler’s most sensitive places was oh-so satisfying. If he’d not been so fresh off an orgasm, he might have blown his load again. As it was, he was quivering right at the precipice regardless.
Tyler quivered and twitched as Jim’s hands pulled away. He wobbled back and forth on the end of the dildo, eyes trained on Jim.
“Does that feel good?” Jim asked, giving the ball a flick.
“I guess that’s a yes. But let’s just put this away.”
Jim pressed two fingers against the tip and squished it back flush with the surface and smoothed it out.
“Use you again tomorrow. Promise,” he said, before turning off the light. ♥︎