Chris stepped into the bathroom, each movement feeling heavier with his new body. He shuffled over to the toilet, a little unsure of what to do next. The sight of his new genitals was overwhelming, and the idea of using the bathroom like a guy for the first time made him a bit nervous, but also curious. He tentatively took out his new... part. The feeling was weird, but somehow familiar too. The urge to pee was really strong, and when he finally did, it felt like his body had just figured out a new trick. It was like his body was getting used to being a man already.
When he came out of the bathroom, Brad was still there, looking a bit dazed as he took in the bizarre scene. He couldn't stop staring at Chris's transformed body, noticing how the clothes now fit him differently, clinging to his broader shoulders, and the way there was something noticeable happening in the area of his pants that was hard to ignore. Chris felt his face heat up when he realized Brad was checking him out, but he knew his boyfriend was trying to get his head around what was happening. The truth of their situation was starting to hit home.
"So... what now?" Brad asked.
Chris inhaled deeply, attempting to calm his nerves. "I suppose we just... carry on with our lives as best we can until they find a way to fix this." He looked down at his swollen crotch, feeling the odd weight. "But tell me, how in the world are we supposed to manage that?"
Brad looked at him, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "Well, we'll figure it out together. I mean, it's still you in there, right?"
Chris gave a thoughtful nod, but the uncertainty didn't go away. "I mean, seriously, I don't even know who 'me' is anymore." There was a peculiar feeling inside him, a longing to delve into his new self that was both scary and thrilling.
Lunchtime has arrived before long. "What do you want to eat, Chris?"
Chris thought for a moment, his stomach rumbling with a newfound hunger that seemed to match his size. "I don't know...what does a mammoth usually eat?" he said with a nervous chuckle. Brad couldn't help but laugh despite the absurdity of the question. "I'm pretty sure we don't have a 'mammoth meal' on any delivery apps," Brad replied, "but I can grab us something from the fridge."
Brad was busy digging around in the kitchen when Chris decided to take a breather on the couch. The cushions hugged him comfortably, conforming to the weight of his body, which felt so different now. The TV was on with some show playing, but he couldn't concentrate on it. All he could think about was the weirdness of his new body. Every little thing, from moving his fingers to breathing in and out, was a reminder of how much he'd changed. He started to wonder how in the world they were going to pull off keeping this big secret from everyone else today.
When Brad came back with a couple of sandwiches and a bag of chips, Chris was starving. He grabbed a sandwich with his big, hairy mitts, squishing the bread a bit in the process. He took a huge bite and chewed slowly, really taking in the flavor. It was weird, but he had to admit that his taste buds had gone through some shift. This simple snack tasted way better than anything he'd ever had. Brad just stared at him, his sandwich hovering by his mouth, looking like a mix of impressed and worried.
They chose to pass the day by watching flicks, trying to ignore the actual elephant in the room. As time went on, Chris began to feel more at ease in his new form. The fur was surprisingly cozy, and using his trunk to grab stuff turned out to be pretty handy. Plus, he found that he could now hit those high shelves without needing a ladder. It was like a bizarre, yet helpful, bonus to his unusual situation.
As they watched a romantic comedy, Brad leaned in to whisper something to Chris, but his breath tickled the sensitive fur on Chris's ear, causing an involuntary twitch of his cock. They both burst out laughing, the tension in the room dissipating slightly. It was the first moment of genuine amusement they had shared since the transformation.
During the kissing scene of the movie, Brad leans over to grab the chips, accidentally brushing against Chris's massive furry chest. The sensation was strange and comforting, and Chris felt his heart skip a beat with a newfound excitement.
The day passed slowly, filled with awkward moments and stolen glances. Brad tried his best to act normal, but it was clear he was still getting used to the idea of his girlfriend being a creature of such scale. Yet, as the hours ticked by, something shifted between them. They began to find humor in the little things like Chris trying to fit through doorways or struggling to navigate the tight spaces of their apartment. The more they laughed together, the more the tension eased.
As the sun began to set, Brad casually suggested to Chris that they go for an evening stroll. "Don't worry," he said, trying to put Chris at ease, "I doubt we'll bump into anyone." With a bit of hesitation, they stepped out into the serene night, Brad guiding the way with the beam of his flashlight. The coolness of the air was a refreshing change from the cozy warmth of their haven, and it tickled Chris's fur, making him shiver a bit with delight. The world around them was hushed, with just a few faint car noises echoing in the distance to remind them of civilization.
They chanced upon a quaint playground, the swings lazily swaying in the breeze. Without giving it a second thought, Brad plopped down on one of the swings, his toes barely touching the ground. He glanced over at Chris with a twinkle in his eye. "You gotta give this a go," he exclaimed with a wide smile. Despite his initial hesitation, Chris ambled over to the swing beside Brad, his hefty build making the small playground equipment look rather miniature. He lowered himself onto the seat, and the swing let out a faint creak under his weight. With a bit of caution, he started to scoot back with his short legs, gradually gaining momentum.
The sensation of flying through the night air was exhilarating, and Chris couldn't help but let out a trumpeting laugh that echoed through the deserted streets. The feeling of weightlessness, even for a brief moment, was a stark contrast to the solemn burden of his transformation. The wind ruffled his fur as he soared higher and higher, the playground lights casting an ethereal glow around them. For a fleeting moment, he almost felt free.
Sadly, the peaceful evening took an unexpected turn when the swing's chain gave way beneath Chris, sending him tumbling to the ground. Although his new, larger frame cushioned the fall, the sound was still incredibly loud in the still night.
"You alright?" Brad exclaimed, sprinting over to where Chris lay.
Chris took a moment to process what had happened. He felt a bit dazed, but the shock had been surprisingly gentle thanks to his extra padding. Looking up at Brad, whose face was a mix of worry and confusion, he managed to give a thumbs up. But as he started to get to his feet, a massive, unintended fart echoed through the quiet.
Brad couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sound. After a good chuckle, he reached out a hand to help Chris up. They both shared a look and a laugh and then they continued their evening stroll.
The night had taken a weird turn, a mix of amazement and awkwardness. They figured it was time to call it a night and go home, but the warm feelings didn't last. The second they stepped into the apartment, the heavy reality hit them like a ton of bricks. The place that used to be Chris' cozy retreat now felt more like a prison cell to him. It was like every corner of the room whispered about his new life, and every mirror was a stark reminder of who he had become. He plopped down on the couch, feeling his bulky body overflow the cushions, and let out a big sigh.
"I can't believe this is happening to me," he mumbled, staring at the wall.
Brad sat down next to him, his hand resting tentatively on Chris's furry shoulder. "I know it's tough, but we'll get through this," he said, trying to sound optimistic. But the doubt in his eyes was clear.
Chris experienced a peculiar tug of emotion towards Brad that was at once eerily familiar and utterly foreign. Despite the bizarre transformation he had undergone, the love he held for Brad remained steadfast. They sat there in quiet contemplation when Brad leaned his head on him. Without even thinking, Chris enveloped Brad in a comforting hug with his thick trunk. It was a tender embrace, conveying a sense of solace and shielding.
As Brad gazed up at him, their eyes locked, and for a brief instant, the barrier of hair and trepidation dissipated. The heat from Brad's body brought back a flood of memories of their shared intimate times as a couple. The sensations stirring within Chris weren't entirely novel; they were just amplified by his current state. He observed Brad's eyes lingering on his fur-covered chest, then sliding down to the prominent bulge in his shorts. It dawned on him that despite his furry exterior, he was still Chloe at heart.
"Do you... still find me attractive?" Chris asked, his voice low and unsure.
Brad took a moment to respond, his eyes lingering on the mammoth-like figure that was now his partner. "It's... different," he admitted, "but you're still you, Chloe. I mean, Chris. I just need some time to... adjust."
Chris nodded, his trunk curling around Brad's arm in understanding. "I know it's a lot to take in," he said, his voice deeper and rumbling than it had ever been. "But I'm still the same person inside."
Chris and Brad sat in quiet contemplation for a bit longer, the only noise being the faint rustling of Chris's fur as he readjusted his position on the couch. After a moment, Brad broke the silence, his tone softer than earlier. "Is it okay if I... you know, feel your fur?"
Chris felt his heart race as he took in Brad's question. He gave a nod, and Brad's hand began to move with caution, his fingertips gliding over the soft blue fur on Chris's arm. The contact was gentle, almost tentative as if Brad was afraid to hurt him. The feeling was incredible, and Chris found himself leaning into the touch.
With newfound confidence, Brad's strokes grew bolder, moving up to Chris's cheek and running his thumb along the edge of his trunk. Chris closed his eyes, lost in the sensation, feeling more connected to Brad than he had in ages. The fur on his body was like nothing he'd ever felt before, so much more sensitive than his human skin. It was like Brad was touching him for the first time, and it was both soothing and exhilarating.
"It's even softer than I imagined," Brad murmured, his voice a mix of curiosity and tenderness.
Chris leaned further into Brad's touch, a small sound escaping his throat. "It... it feels amazing," he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. The way Brad's hand moved over his fur was something he never knew he needed, and it sent waves of pleasure through him.
Brad's hand ventured to the back of Chris's neck, his thumb teasing the fur there. "What about your ears?" he asked, his voice a bit shaky.
Chris nodded, giving Brad the okay. He leaned in closer, his breath warm on the sensitive skin of Chris's ear. Brad tugged lightly on the fur, and Chris couldn't hold back a low moan. It was such an intense, primal sensation like Brad had found a hidden button that turned on his deepest cravings. He felt his cock stirring in its sheath, and his face flushed with a mix of desire and embarrassment. Brad moved to the other ear, the feeling growing even stronger. Each stroke sent a jolt straight to his core, and Chris couldn't help but wonder where this would lead.
Suddenly, the peaceful silence was shattered by the noise of the apartment door swinging open. Brad and Chris both leaped to their feet, their eyes as wide as saucers. They knew that a check-up was part of the plan, but they had hoped it would be much later in the evening. The footsteps grew closer and a shadowy outline appeared in the doorway.
To their surprise, it was Dr. Marquez, the head honcho of the whole operation. She glanced around the room, which looked like a tornado had just passed through, and let out a heavy sigh. "I see your condition hasn't... improved," she said.
Chris's heart took a nosedive. He had been holding out hope, just a little, that maybe they had cracked the code, and figured out how to fix him. But she used the word "improved," which was code for "we're still scratching our heads."
"Hey, Chris," Dr. Marquez said, holding out a bag like it was a peace offering. "We've got some stuff for you." She sounded like a doctor who had been up all night trying to find a cure for a rare disease, only to come back with a couple of painkillers. "These might make your time here a bit more bearable."
Chris felt his heart plummet even further as she walked over and placed the bag on the coffee table. The scientists had gone all out to get him ready for life as this... this thing. The sight of the oversized toiletries they'd made just for him, like a toothbrush with bristles thick enough for a small tree and a bottle of body wash that could fill a whole bathtub, only cranked up his fear that he'd never be a regular person again. And that comb? It looked like something you'd use on a lion.
"These are tailored to your new, uh, physique," Dr. Marquez said, her voice all business as she held up a pair of scissors that seemed more suited to a garden than a bathroom. "For your fur," she added, nodding at the scissors. "It grows pretty fast, so you'll need these."
With a mix of amazement and horror, Chris took the stuff in his huge, awkward hands. Each item was like a slap in the face, reminding him of the reality he now faced. As he watched her, the doubt grew in his belly, feeling like a bowling ball. If they'd gone to so much trouble to help him live like this, how close could they be to changing him back?
Then she pulled out this gizmo that was a weird mix of smartwatch and medical gear. "This'll keep tabs on how you're doing," she told him, sliding it onto his wrist. It tightened on its own, the cold metal pressing into his fur. "And we can make adjustments to your living conditions as needed."
Brad looked on, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "What do you mean, 'adjustments'?" he asked.
Dr. Marquez let out a deep sigh and glanced at Brad briefly before her gaze settled back on Chris. "As our research progresses," she began, her tone gentle, "we might discover that certain facets of your situation, Chris, shift or develop. It's crucial that we keep track of how you're doing."
The unspoken meaning hung in the air: his transformation wasn't just a one-time deal, but an ongoing process that could evolve. The realization washed over Chris like a wave, and he felt his new reality sinking in, sticky as quicksand.
"Thanks," he managed to say, his voice barely more than a whisper, thick with the tears he was fighting back.
"We're going to give you some space to, you know, get to know each other better," she continued a blend of empathy and clinical detachment playing across her features. "But remember, we're keeping an eye on everything. If anything feels off, or changes, you have to tell us."
With a final nod, she turned and exited the room, the door closing with a soft click. Brad searched Chris's eyes, looking for some comfort, but all he found was a mirror of his fear and uncertainty. The space between them felt tighter, the air heavier with the weight of their shared dread.
Chris gently placed the items on the side table and slumped back onto the couch, the heaviness of his new form pressing down on his chest. "What am I supposed to do now, Brad?" he murmured, his voice trembling with the weight of his question.
Brad took a shaky breath and reached for Chris's hand, his hand trembling slightly as he offered what reassurance he could. "We'll work it out together," he said, his voice stronger than he felt. "We always do."
Chris stared down at their joined hands, and for a brief moment, hope flickered in his eyes. Love was about embracing one another, no matter the form. And as he felt Brad's firm grip, he knew that come what may, Brad would be right there beside him.