Joe felt his rational mind coming back as he was trying to stuff his hairy, thick legs into his pants. Gotta get some clothes on, gotta get out of here, he thought, but as he shoved his massive foot through the denim and started pulling it up against his cut, thick quads, it just wasn't fitting like it was supposed to. "What the fuck," Joe said, and as he heard himself say it he was horrified at the beastly rumble that was coming out of his mouth.
"Arrrgh," he heard himself road as he kicked off the pants. He just wasn't thinking straight, these were his pants and he just had to get them back on. He grabbed his jock strap and tank top from the floor too and got the heck out of there, away from the nerd who probably was responsible for this. Who knows, he just had to think.
Joe didn't know where he was headed -- this locker room was so confusing -- and after trying one door that was locked, he found a metal bench by some lockers in the corner and sat down. He set his clothes down on the bench besides himself. Think, Joe, think, he thought, embarrassed by the hairy groin he saw down in his lap. The hair spread out onto those meaty, furry thighs and onto his lower legs, where it got even thicker. He probably just hadn't been getting dressed in the right order earlier. That was it. He stood up and slid the jock strap up his legs, knowing when he got out of here he'd have to find real underwear, some briefs, not this strange strap with the straps. At least it covered up his meat. He pulled up his pants, first over one leg, and... "shit," Joe said, "shit!!!" as he yanked on the denim and it just wouldn't pull up his thick calves, hurting and burning as it rubbed against the fur there. "No!" he said, yanking harder, and the denim just ripped in his hands as he heard the fabric tear loudly.
"Ugh!" Joe said, dropped the denim and pushing it off his leg onto the floor. He felt tears welling up and the start of a sob, and started crying into his hands, his big stupid hands, as he felt the hair growing out of his face rub against his palms, which just made him want to cry harder. He was all hairy and big and his clothes didn't fit and he had to get back to normal. If it weren't for those fucking losers who did this to him -- Devon or whoever -- this was not right.
"Help me..." he heard himself say, loudly, in a boom to no one in the room. "I'm not supposed to be like this!" he roared. Joe stood up, trying on the tank top, but as he tried to force it on so fast in his anger he ripped that, too. Other clothes, he just had to find other clothes, his brain tried to tell him. His stupid, dumb brain that got him in this mess in the first place.
He had to try some more doors. Doors, to get out to the hall, to the gym. He paced around the room trying to think, and just then around the corner he saw Chad. He remembered Chad -- Chad, who he used to be friends with. Chad had been a good student, not really a nerd but As and Bs until junior high... until puberty, really... when he had let his insecurities about being cool get the better of him or something... Joe thought... god it was hard to remember... anyhow Chad, Chad had joined all sorts of sports and shit. Track, and then wrestling and even football. He was still a freshman and one of the scrawniest guys on the team, but had probably put on 5 pounds of muscle. Why would Chad do that, Joe thought. Maybe Chad could help. Chad, who was only wearing a jock strap and had his back turned to Joe. Joe could see Chad's bare ass as he was putting his clothes in his locker. Didn't Chad know what he was doing, why would he put on a strap--- didn't he know how risky it was? Joe thought, in his confused way, that if he were Chad he'd put all those normal clothes back on right now and run as far away from football and sports as he could. Chad didn't know what it was like to be beasted out like Joe.
Joe felt almost angry that Chad was being so stupid as to put on athletic gear.