Paul had a tough night. He slept fitfully, waking up repeatedly. Whether he was being kept awake by a feeling that the bed was slipping against his furry skin, or the covers moving, or the pillow getting out of position, there was always some reason he wasn't able to stay comfortable for very long.
When he was able to drift away into sleep, he was plagued by vivid sexual dreams. In one, he was hugging a person-sized erection against his hairy chest while he jacked it off. In another, he was shrinking slowly while getting gang-banged by some of his co-workers. As each of the big men came, Paul felt his own body dwindling away. These should have been nightmares, but in every one Paul felt so sexually stimulated that there was no room for horror. Even the one where he was pinned under somebody's automobile-sized balls was terrific while he was having it.
Several times during the night when Paul would roll over seeking a comfortable position, he thought he had changed size again. Early in the night, he felt sure that he had shrunk, but he was not about to turn on the light and confirm that. Some time in the early morning hours the sensations seemed to reverse a little, and it felt like he was growing. But it was hard to tell, and other times the whole question would be blotted out by the familiar feeling of an enormous throbbing cock between his legs when he came out of his dreams.
So, it was no surprise that Paul wasn't in any mood to actually wake up when the alarm rang. In fact, only in the last hour or two of the night had he been able to get any uninterrupted sleep. He looked at the clock and thought about calling in sick, but then thought the better of it and threw back the covers.
They stuck together cooly when he yanked them, and Paul saw that he had shot his load during at least one of those dreams. Paul frowned at the mess, and then smiled thinking that he hadn't had a wet dream in more than 20 years. This plant was definitely weird, but kinda cool.
Standing up, Paul received his first good news. Everything in the world seemed back to its proper proportion. The bed was the right size. The dresser stood tall, but not too tall. Even the bathroom door handle was in the right position as he let himself in. The shrinking seemed to have worn itself out overnight.
The warm water felt great as it ran over his muscular body. Paul had always liked his body, and today he was feeling closer to it than usual. It had always grown muscles easily, which impressed the girls. It was also covered with fur, which was often an inconvenience, but he knew there were a lot of guys it impressed too. And, he thought as he soaped his body, if the guys didn't notice his fur, there was always his package. He knew he'd been blessed with significantly above-average sex equipment.
Oh, it was true that he hadn't had much of an interest in sex with other guys. But, you could see them on the porn flicks, or in the locker rooms, or whatever. Paul knew guys looked at his body. Soon Paul was stroking his hard cock in the shower, imagining showing it off to a room full of jocks, putting their small steroid-shrunken genitals to shame. "Yeah, that would be hot," he heard himself say out loud.
Paul's eyes snapped open. What was he saying? This plant was turning him into some kind of queer. All the dreams last night should have been nightmares, but instead he'd gotten off in each one. Not that he'd ever had anything particular AGAINST gays, but BECOMING one was quite another story! Paul let go of his dick and turned around in the shower, rinsing the soap off and trying to change the thoughts in his head.
But his dick was not giving up that easily. As Paul turned his face up into the spray of the showerhead, it throbbed patiently in the air. Rubbing the soap out of his fur, Paul's hands soon made their way back to it. Not stroking at first, Paul pulled on it, squeezed the head, rubbed his big balls. Soon his fingers had lingered too long and he was masturbating again, even if more slowly. He managed to keep his mind mostly blank, just feeling his sex.
Just as his whole body was starting to feel really good, and he was giving in to the idea of letting his fantasies go wherever they wanted -- they were just fantasies, after all! -- Paul noticed the shower had changed positions. Looking up, he saw it was spraying him at a slighly different angle. Not letting go of himself with either hand, he counted the rows of tiles that were above his head. There had been four rows of tiles above his head in the shower for as long as he had lived in that house. But this morning, there were five. He was shrinking again.
"Wait a minute..." Paul said out loud. Yesterday the shower had restored him. Why wasn't it working today? Then he realized that yesterday the plant had gotten on his skin, but last night he had eaten a leaf. He couldn't wash the leaf out of his insides just by taking a quick trip to the shower.
Paul stopped stroking and looked down at his dick. "YOU are doing this, aren't you!" he said, feeling angry and confused. He looked up at the shower head again. He hadn't shrunk much; maybe there was a way to just stop now before more inches were lost.