Stephen walked over to the library. He was thinking about all the exciting things that were happening on the campus. Nearing the circulation desk, he noticed a librarian giving a lecture to two guys and a girl about loud noise in the library. As the man talked to them he held onto the nearest section of the stacks. His face was red and he was hushedly whisper-screaming about them being brats.
He was a decent-enough looking fellow. Probably in his mid-forties. But no amount of time at the gym can possible counteract the toll a desk job will take, with the paunch at his waist and the slight stoop of his shoulders providing clear evidence of paper-pushing rather than weight-lifting being his primary exercise regime. Even though, he was obviously trying his best, as his black hair was buzzed down and he sported a nice five o'clock shadow even this early in the day. Although his too-fair complexion did nothing to augment the look, it was clear that his arms and legs showed the results of at least some amount of time being spent at the gym.
He was wearing a conservatively tailored suit with an expensive monogrammed briefcase sitting beside him on the floor. Stephen recognized him as Dr. Jerry Hollings , A dick of a librarian that had charged him two dollars on a late book. He was the kind of guy who got off on having just a little bit of power.
He deserved to have someone fuck him over Stephen thought.
As he leaned with his left hand on the stack of books, he suddenly felt the texture of the bookcase change. He looked over and realized that he was now grasping a large metal pole.
Before he could figure out what had happen to the bookcase, Jerry's suit jacket simply vanished.
Jerry felt the slight lightness and looked down to discover that he was dressed in just a crisp, white shirt and tie. He was stunned not knowing what had happened to his jacket, but that was only the beginning. He stared in wide-eyed disbelief as the shirt sleeves drew away from his wrists, and began to make their way along his arms and upward toward his shoulders. With each retreating inch revealing more of his hairy, thickening arms, exposing the massive guns as the fabric shrank away. Thankfully, the sleeves abruptly stopped when they reached his pits, but left him looking like he was wearing some sort of formal muscle shirt, complete with a tie. He blushed in embarrassment, even though nobody else seemed to notice what was going on.
The feeling of constriction at his neck caused him look down at his tie, which began to change from a cheap red silk into an expensive black bowtie.
Students that had been studying in different corners of the quiet room began to congregate around the bewildered Dr. Jerry.
It was then that he felt his dress shirt begin to tighten, the buttons vanishing as the shirt-front fused together. Not only was it becoming tighter, but smaller too. Freeing itself from his pants, and continuing past his waist. As his midsection was exposed, the paunch of his gut drew inward, molding itself into a washboard eight-pack. His shirt finally stopped its upward progress, and settled into position just below his pecs. His hairy, hard abs were totally visible, with the odd looking shirt adhering itself to just the upper part of his chest. Much of what remained of the fabric then melted away to become a skin-hugging open-weave mesh that cupped his muscled pecs, changing from white, to grey, then finally to black, as it took on a shiny finish to complete its transformation into something out of a fetish catalogue, never intended as the attire of a person with a doctorate in library science.
Jerry looked down in horror. His massive chest almost completely exposed. His now larger, harder pecs, which lay heavily against his chest, looked comical encased in what could hardly be called a shirt. His chest hair, which looked strange in this new getup, suddenly vanished as though he had never had any chest hair at all --- as did the hair from the rest of his body, save the hair on his head which remained the only area unaffected by the baffling transformation.
His remaining clothes sank back ever so slightly to accommodate his new hairless state. Something totally imperceptible to those nearby, but leaving Jerry with an uneasy feeling as the material lay against him in a way he hadn't experienced since he'd been a pre-pubescent teenager, with naked skin now in unobstructed contact with what continued to preserve some measure of his modesty.
But the feeling of uneasiness soon gave way to the startling awareness that his dress pants were shrinking and constricting as they made a hasty retreat upward away from his shoes. Travelling up his calves while hugging his legs, then settling into a undulating pool around his waist. As they did, they formed an obscene bulge at his crotch, as the outlines of his dick and balls became clearly defined while the fabric continued to constrict. The smaller his pants got, the tighter they got, so it was almost a relief when they split at the sides and disappeared from view. But his relief was short-lived as his boxers began to mimic the path of his now-vanished pants, exposing more and more of Jerry's midsection as the hems made their way toward his crotch.
He watched in astonishment as his boxers shrank away, first becoming jockeys, then two triangles of fabric in the front and the back, connected together by a thin band at his waist. Finally, a shimmering silver G-string, more suited to a pole dancer than librarian. "Showtime," one of the guys that had been getting the lecture said to his friends as they were eagerly anticipating the upcoming display.
All of a sudden, a heavy bass riff began playing on the library’s PA system. More students crowded around happy for the break in the monotony of the day.
Jerry's body began to move. At first slowly and then more rhythmically as the music intensified.
Jerry added an undulation to his up and down motion, and began making use of the pole as part of his routine.
A nursing student who had yet to notice the crowd looked up and smiled as she saw what the librarian was up to. Others glanced over, and as Jerry looked on, a lascivious grin crept across his face. Before long, Jerry realized that he was the object of uninhibited lusting from the students in the library first floor.
Then the taunts started, imploring him to up his game as he put on a show for his eager audience.
With each call of encouragement, Dr. Jerry was astonished to find himself enthusiastically complying with even more suggestive movements and displays. He drew his free hand down along his body, hesitating at his nipple just long enough to pinch it into satisfied attention. Then continued across his abs, using the motion of his fingers to emphasize each ripple of the washboard that lay beneath. Continuing his progress, he sensuously ran his hand along his pelvis and downward toward his crotch, pausing to massage the skin along where his inner thigh met the material that barely concealed his package. As his hand lingered alongside his moneymaker, he began to flick his dick and balls so they bounced in synchronization to the music. All the while never missing a single undulation along the pole that provided a platform for his impromptu performance.
Dr. Hollings was mortified. He had never been much for dancing of any sort. Yet here he was making a display of himself in front of a bunch of strangers. Each catcall from the crowd elicited another response. It was as if the crowd directed his every motion. "Lick it," called one, as he brazenly tongued the pole. "Grind it harder," provoke him to rub his crotch from side-to-side, causing his cock to snap as it switched from the left, to the right, and then back again. "Show us more," goaded him to reach down and draw the edge of his G-string away from his inner thigh, to present a teasing peak at the smooth pink skin that lay just beneath. But Jerry cringed when heard, "Show us your hole," as his next move was to jump and rotate himself around the pole fully once and a half, positioning his backside to the audience. Slowly down and out, slowly down and out. He lowered his muscled torso closer and closer to the floor. While inside his head he screamed, "NO!!!!!!!"
His body was of an entirely different mind. For with each new beat, he thrust his ass out and out, further and further, while maintaining synchronicity with the undulations of the train. And then in a final display of pure humiliation, he winked his hairless asshole at the crowd.
Everyone went wild to Dr. Jerry's debasing display. Much to his relief, he slowly regained control of the motion of his body. As Jerry felt the induced motions of his erotic dance subside. He righted himself, and clutching the pole for balance, fought back the urge to vomit.
Most of his audience returned to their reading, their light conversation, or typing.