Bottoming Out

Joe was exhausted. He was starving, thirsty and freezing. He'd been sitting naked in the same spot for nearly twelve hours, leaving his legs and back stiff from the solid, unforgiving seat. He'd sit for another twelve if he had to. If the legends were true, and he told himself over and over with a growing desperation they had to be, it would all be worth it in the end.

He knew going into things that it could be a fool's errand. It certainly sounded crazy enough on the surface. Making a deal in the dead of night with a mysterious creature in the woods? It was nonsense. The rational part of his brain was telling him to get up and walk away, that he was just wasting his time. The angry part of his brain, though, was telling him to stay put.

Joe had spent weeks hiking through the surrounding forests trying to find the spot he needed. It couldn't just be any fallen tree; it needed to be a Hemlock, and it needed to be remote. It had taken him days of searching the internet to find a suitable forest within a day's drive, and even then it took several weekend trips of nearly getting lost in unmarked wilderness before he found the perfect spot.

It was a five hour drive and a three hour hike, but that was fine with him. It just gave him more time to think about why he was doing this in the first place. He'd wanted to forgive and forget, but Hunter's torment was relentless. If his friend had just turned him down Joe could have moved on. He knew when he confessed his feelings it was a long shot. Hunter seemed firmly straight, but then again, to most people so did he. And they'd been friends for years. They'd even lived together for a brief stint in college, so at worst Joe was expecting to be told his friend didn't swing that way. He'd get his feelings off his chest and they'd all move on.

What he hadn't expected was to be laughed at. Hunter didn't just gently turn him down, he made him feel foolish. He'd called Joe crazy, amongst several other names, and became furious at the fact that Joe would have even considered the possibility that he might be gay as well.

Even after that disappointing response, Joe could have chalked it up to a shock reaction. He wasn't just admitting that he had feelings for the other man, he was coming out at the same time. People always reacted differently when learning that the person they thought they knew was really someone else, but no one had responded quite like Hunter. He mocked Joe constantly, telling all of their friends about his declaration of love and outing him to several people in the process. Then he'd just stopped speaking to him altogether.

The whole experience left Joe angry on a level he'd never even thought possible. He was humiliated and betrayed by Hunter, but he was furious with himself. Even now, after everything that had happened, the thought of his friend's lean, athletic body and bearded face made his stomach flutter. The first thing he saw every time he closed his eyes was the image of his friend when they'd lived together, his deceptively charming grin flashing in his direction while Hunter lounged in his boxers. He could trace the lines of definition covering the other man's lean, muscled torso, counting the wiry auburn hairs dusting his modest pecs and trailing down his firm abs before exploding out the bottom in a dense coating around his supple thighs. His cock still throbbed whenever he thought about the way his friend's surprisingly round bottom bubbled out the back of his boxers, or the way Hunter's soft, shaggy brown hair had felt whenever he'd given it a rough tousle.

Joe knew his feelings were foolish. He was in better shape, with a larger build and more definition than Hunter had. He was more hung, having a solid two inches over his friend's meager five, and with his short, raven hair and olive skin, he was the more handsome of the two. Joe had absolutely zero difficulty landing interested men; the problem was that he didn't want them. His heart only wanted Hunter and retribution, and it wanted them at the same time.

So he'd sit on the log for day's if he had to. He'd strip down, anoint himself with the pungent oils, and offer to pay whatever price was asked if it meant he'd get his wish. Alone in the pitch black forest with nothing but his rage to keep him company, he'd wait.

It was the lack of sound that caught his attention first. His mind had filtered the constant rustling of leaves and snapping of small twigs as white noise, barely registering after hours of sitting in its midst. He didn't know how long the nocturnal forest had been silent, but he knew he wasn't alone. The startled young man was afraid to turn his head for fear of what he'd see. He could sense the shape on the log next to him, could smell a musty, spicy aroma that made his eyes water. His heart was pounding in his chest and only the stiffness of his legs kept him from getting up and running.

"Gonna cost ya." The voice was hoarse and raspy with age, sounding like rattling leaves from a breeze rustling through the treetops.

Joe swallowed hard and tried to sound confident. "I'll pay." He shuffled the bag on the ground over towards the thing sitting next to him, getting a quick glance of the bare, gnarled feet and filthy toes capped by hooked, curling nails.

The deep, guttural noise could have been a laugh. "Not with that."

"Whatever the price...I'll pay it." Joe tensed when a bony, inhumanly strong hand reached over and cupped his jaw. He winced in pain as the fingers closed like a vice, forcing his head to turn and look at the withered crone. Her white hair was long and stringy, hanging off her mostly bald scalp in patches and descending down to mingle with her tattered, patchwork clothes. The woman's pale, wrinkled skin was mottled by dirt and moss, her eyes a sickly, jaundiced yellow, and what few teeth she had were nearly as black as the forest around them as she smiled at Joe. She held the young man's head in place, her eyes boring into his as a drunken dizziness washed over him. Joe felt like he was floating, the forest around him disappearing into a sea of black. Even the woman vanished until all that remained were the diseased eyes, glowing with an internal radiance as they grew to twin suns hovering in the void.

"Guess you will," she rasped, finally letting go.

Joe gasped, not realizing he'd been holding his breath the whole time. He was still disoriented and unsure of how long he'd actually been sitting there naked with the strange woman. Did she just show up or had she been there the whole time? A part of him wanted to get up and run, but instead he turned to look where her skeletal arm was pointing.

There he was. Joe knew it had to be an illusion or another part of whatever bizarre hallucination he was having. Logically he knew there was no way his friend could be here, and yet Hunter somehow stood naked before him, his pale skin illuminated by a single, silver strand of moonlight. Joe's breath caught in his throat, his twitching cock rocketing to attention at the sight of his friend's trim beard stretching around the charming smile that had sucked him in to begin with. For that moment, Joe could pretend. He'd forgotten what it felt like to see his friend's grinning, boyish face and not feel a surge of anger.

"You just gonna stand there and stare?"

Joe's heart raced in his chest at the sound of his friend's smooth tenor echoing through the silent forest. He wanted to lunge forward and wrap his arms around him, but the shock kept him rooted in place.

"Maybe this'll help," Hunter laughed, reaching down to begin tugging his small cock to life. Joe groaned, watching one of his fantasies play out in front of him as the lean man pursed his full lips and let out quiet gasps while he worked his cock and tugged on his heavy balls. Joe's mouth watered as he watched Hunter's abs flex in time with his pumping hips, his hand reaching down to knead his own aching cock.

Joe couldn't hold back any longer. Whatever the thing was didn't just look like his friend, it felt like him, too. It even smelled like him. Joe had roughhoused with Hunter enough over the years to know exactly what his solid frame and soft skin felt like. He knew what kind of soap and deodorant Hunter used, and the cologne he wore. To all of his senses, this WAS his friend wrapped in his arms.

The only thing that felt new was the solid cock digging into his stomach, and the warm tongue probing the inside of his mouth. He'd felt Hunter's soft beard on his face before, but never while he had two handfuls of the plump rear he'd dreamed about for so long.

"Joe...please..." Hunter moaned, turning in the other man's arms. He guided Joe's hands to his oozing cock while he pushed his perky bubble back and gyrated against his friend's lap. "I need you inside me."

Joe didn't waste any time. He spit into his hand, bent Hunter forward, and plunged inside. His friend's smooth voice broke into a whimpering, cracking howl of pleasure as he squirmed in his grip. Joe's hands ran up and down the trail of hair on the other man's abs as he held on tight and bucked his hips, nearly bursting into tears of joy at the sensation of Hunter's bouncing globes. He'd always loved his friend's ample bottom the most, and if everything went the way it was supposed to, Hunter's best feature was about to get even better. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the moment, never wanting it to end.

"Fuuuuuck, Joe...it feels soooo good," Hunter moaned, his head rolling back on his trim shoulders. "Cum in me," he begged, grunting like a desperate animal. "I need you to cum in meee...meoOHHhhhoohhhhh....yes...yessss...yeeeeaaaahahahahaha!"

Joe's eyes shot open at the sudden cackle. The romantic beam of moonlight was gone, taking Hunter with it. Instead of his friend writhing on the end of his dick, Joe was buried inside a fungal, amorphous blob. It was covered in dirt, twigs and leaves, the smell of damp, rotting forest floor wafting off in waves. It wasn't Hunter's voice he'd been hearing but the old woman's, his friend's smooth tones turning into a harsh, croaking laugh.

He tried to pull away, but the pulsing, shifting mound wouldn't let go of his still-throbbing cock. Despite the revolting rush of horror, Joe still felt the pressure building. Whatever the thing was, it's warm, moist vibrations pushed him over the edge. With a loud grunt his whipcord frame jerked and spasmed as he sprayed into the creature.

"The price!" the woman clapped. "Always the price. Could've planted a garden but all you get is a seed," she laughed as Joe kept spraying. And spraying. And spraying. The stuck young man couldn't believe the torrent he was unleashing. It felt like he'd launched gallons into the strange shape and he was showing no signs of stopping. It left him lightheaded and weak, like the very life was being pulled from him. He was still cumming when he passed out.

Later, when Joe woke up naked and shivering on the forest floor, he was alone. Faint beams of early morning sun trailed down through the dense canopy, lighting up the small clouds of fog that stood as ethereal witness to the night's strange events. There was no sign of the woman or the thing she'd conjured, and the offering he'd brought was still sitting next to the fallen tree, leaving him to wonder if it had all been a dehydration-induced hallucination. He got dressed and stumbled out of the woods on shaking legs, hoping whatever price he'd really paid would all be worth it.

**********

Hunter stood naked in front of the mirror, cocking his head from side to side. He turned to the left, then the right, then in a slow circle, all the while staring at his bare, round cheeks. Something looked off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Literally. He'd noticed an odd feeling in the shower, like his skin was crawling with an itch he couldn't find and that wouldn't go away. He palmed each cheek, giving them a rough squeeze and shuddering at the foreign sensation that ran through him. They felt bigger than they should, but he told himself that was impossible. He watched his diet like a hawk and hadn't changed his workout routine at all, which meant his lean, athletic build should remain exactly as it was.

That was the point. Hunter worked hard to make sure he stayed ripped and toned without getting bulky. He had no desire to wind up like the meatheads on his softball team, always trying to get bigger arms and bigger pecs. It was too much work. He liked being wiry and solid, his trim frame inflating impressively when he flexed, and he knew if he got too big it would only make his smallish cock look even more so. Tone and proportion were his goals, leaving him with a shredded body and a handsome, sharply featured face.

Which is why the idea of his ass getting bigger worried him. His plump cheeks were already too large compared to the rest of his lean body, but there was nothing he'd been able to do about it. His body just seemed to store its extra weight there, and while he'd been able to work it to his advantage, he wasn't looking for it to get any bigger.

"Already attracts the wrong crowd," he sighed, absently squeezing at one of the globes while his free hand stroked through the dark trail at the base of his abs. Girls thought his perky bubble was cute, but the prominent backside was like a magnet for guys. Enough people already wondered if he was gay because of his tight clothes and trim build; he didn't need anything adding to that.

He posed in front of the mirror, one hand still locked on his rear while the other drifted down to toy with his hardening cock. Jerking off to his reflection was a favorite pastime, nothing getting him off quite like the thought of himself.

"Mmmhhmm....fuck yeah..." he moaned to himself as he flexed his tight pecs and stroked away, a smug grin on his bearded face. "That's right fellas...you can look, but you can't touooooohhh!" His sultry tone turned into a high squeal when he unexpectedly went up on his toes and sprayed like a hose all over the mirror. "Wha...what the fuck was that?!" he panted as he watched his reflection turn an embarrassed crimson. He hadn't even noticed his fingers pressing against his hole until he felt the reluctance to pull them away.

Hunter did his best not to think about how tight his boxers felt when he slid them on, still telling himself that his ass couldn't have grown overnight. Especially not enough to make his normally baggy boxers this snug. The thin, worn cotton was plastered to his thighs, pulling the fly open enough to let his bush and spent rod poke free. Since he worked from home and didn't have any meetings that day he decided against putting anything else on. Usually he at least liked to act as if he was going into an office, but his body still tingled from his recent release and he didn't want to spoil that.

That tingling only got worse as the morning went on. Hunter squirmed in his chair constantly, unable to focus on anything but the odd sensation coming from his lower half. There was a growing tightness, like his legs had been wrapped in plastic. He wondered if he'd pulled a muscle at the last practice but there wasn't any pain, just a constant sense of pressure. And it wasn't unpleasant. Every now and then when he squirmed another jolt would shoot through him, causing him to gasp and start in his chair. His cock jumped every time, twitching and throbbing until it felt like he hadn't gotten off in days, not mere hours.

"Okay...this is fuckin' weird," he sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. He pushed away from his desk and stood, stretching his toned arms overhead and swaying on his feet. His balance was off, something he attributed to simply standing up too fast until he took his first step. There was a loud rip, followed by a rush of air and a sense of freedom. "Wha...I mean...how did..." he stammered, reaching around behind to feel the exposed patches of skin hanging out from the large tear in the back of his boxers.

He darted over to the mirror, trembling as he felt the shifting weight at his lower back. His steps felt heavier, and there was a strange rippling with each footfall. He always had a little bit of a bounce when he walked, but not this much.

"SHIT!" he gasped, his jaw dropping. He went pale, then red with embarrassment when he turned and looked at the plump mounds fighting their way from his tattered underwear. As impossible as it seemed, his round apple bottom actually had grown larger. He peeled out of the tight boxers, marveling at how even the small amount of growth warped his tight profile. The thick cheeks seemed to pull upwards even as they expanded outwards, showing the beginnings of a shelf-like protrusion. "This...this shouldn't be possibbbuuuuuUUHHHHNNNNN!"

Hunter's eyes went wide, his knees buckling as he bellowed. He'd reached around to prod his inflated bottom, but as soon as his hand made contact it darted deep into his valley, seeking out his tight hole like a magnet. "Guuhhh....goddamn...this is...fuuuuuuck..." the lean man panted, falling to his knees. He couldn't stop himself. He'd never been even remotely interested in ass play, no matter how hot the girl was who wanted him to try, but the waves of bliss rocking his body made him suddenly rethink that decision. He was coherent enough to be embarrassed as he heard his pathetic whimpers and watched his reflection dig around between its too-large cheeks, he just couldn't do anything about it. The handsome jock was well aware that he was on his knees, frantically playing with his asshole, but when his virgin button swallowed his fingers of its own accord nothing else mattered.

He let out a wordless shriek, slipping in extra fingers to join the pair rooting around his insides. His untouched cock was spasming violently, launching sticky strands from the oozing head as it jerked and twitched from his internal massaging. Hunter felt like there should have been pain. His virgin entryway had never been penetrated in such a manner, but it was like he was built for it. His fingers slid in and out effortlessly, gliding with silky grace across unknown vistas of pleasure.

Hunter had no idea what he was doing. He grunted against the floor as he writhed, pumping his hips to work his fingers in deeper. The motion caused his enlarged cheeks to bounce alarmingly, but he was more focused on the way the shaking and bouncing sent more darts of bliss through him. He stumbled over to his bed so he could get a better angle, howling and writhing as he fingered himself for what felt like hours. He only stopped when his phone buzzed, reminding him that he needed to get ready for practice. His spent cock had long ago ceased spraying but he'd continued to go at his hole, unable to resist the electric new sensations.

"Wait..they...they ARE bigger!?" Hunter's jaw fell open when he stumbled out of bed and saw the obviously inflated globes. There was absolutely no denying it anymore. Impossible or not, his ass was growing. The now-plump cheeks were approaching the size of small melons, far too large to fit into any of his boxers. He tried to squeeze into multiple pairs before giving up and deciding to go commando under his gym shorts, cursing himself for not buying baggier styles. Even the elastic mesh was a tight squeeze, leaving none of his growing bottom or his short little cock to the imagination.

He told himself it would be fine. It was just the guys tonight, not the whole team. He was getting together with Mac, Bryan and Tom to field some balls, and his flopping cock was nothing they hadn't seen before. He'd make up an excuse about it being laundry day and move on. As soon as he arrived he knew that plan wasn't going to work.

"Damn! You borrow your sisters shorts or something," Bryan laughed as soon as Hunter walked up and he saw the other man's outlined cheeks nearly bouncing free of the small shorts.