"Well, guess laundry can wait until tomorrow," Tad said picking up his
basket. Then he set it on the floor, scooped up Bryce's stuff and
threw it into the basket with his dirty laundry. He whistled as he
carried his load back up to his dorm room.
"Hey, Tad, thought you were out of clean jockstraps," joked his room
mate Chuck.
He set the basket down, pushed his jeans down, and snapped the strap
that had been Bryce. "Got me a new one!"
"Haha, no laundry for a week then," chortled Chuck, "I know you, Tad,
you only do laundry when all your jockstraps are dirty, and you don't
consider a new jockstrap ready for washing until you've had it a
week."
"I'm planning to do laundry tomorrow - or I was. You really think I
should wear Bryce a week without washing to break him in?"
"He was the one that stole your other jockstrap?"
"Nah, his mind's an open book. He didn't take it, but I thought he did
when I took him."
"Well, that's a fair cop then."
"Please no, not a week without washing, you said only a day. And then
it was to teach me a lesson. I don't want be a jockstrap. People will
miss me. There'll be an investigation," screamed Bryce's mind.
"Quiet down there, Bryce," Tad said swatting his crotch, "Real men are
talking up here. You keep up this prattle, I'll just have to jack off
a load into you and let you sit there sopping wet while you dry."
"Ha! I still say those gay bastards treat that more as a reward than a
punishment. Hey, did you say Bryce? He's your new jock! The cute slim
guy down the hall who rooms with Grant?"
"Yeah? What's it to you?"
"His clothes in the basket?"
"Yeah."
Chuck is half naked as he runs from his bed to the basket and begins
to change into Bryce's clothing.
Tad chuckled and undid his pants so Bryce could see 300 lb Chuck
pulling on Bryce's clothes. At first Bryce expected his clothing to
rip to shreds, but Chuck seemed to have an odd ability of his own.
His log like arm shrank to a twin of Bryce's old arm, when he slid it
into Bryce's sleeve. His sandy brown head disappeared into the shirt,
but it was a twin of Bryce's black haired head that emerged.
Soon a barefoot version of Bryce stood there. It was Bryce except for
the barefeet. Bryce had worn size 8.5, but Chuck wore size 14's. This
Bryce had size 14 feet.
"You forgot the feet, Chuck," Tad pointed out.
"No, I didn't. I like big feet, and I think Grant does too. If I'm
right, he'll give Bryce's big ol' feet a tongue bath."
"If you're not?"
"Well, I'll come back wearing Grant's body and give you a tongue
bath."
"Not just the feet, but all over?"
"Sure. And what are you going to do with Grant, if you got his body?"
"Huh, oh, I see where this is going you want an 8th jockstrap. Well,
no way. You get get your own jockstrap. Grant's going to serve my
feet one way or the tother. Maybe an insole, maybe a sock, maybe
Tinactin Powder, maybe I won't need to decide cause he'll worship my
big ass feet."
"Doubt it."
"If he does, you gotta worship too."
"We'll see."
A minute later, Bryce strolled barefoot into his room.
Grant looked up, "Hey, study buddy, where were you?"
Bryce pulled up a chair and propped his now size 14 whopper feet on
Grant's desk inches from his face. Grant shoved them away.
"What the fuck did you do to your feet?"
"I thought you liked them big? I saw you staring at Chuck DeForrest's
big feet just two days ago."
"What? I was scoping out Chuck's shoes, I'd like to get a pair of size
12's for me. I hadn't seen any my size, but if they make 'em in
Chuck's size they must make mine too."
Bryce scowled, "Well you won't be needing 'em."
"Huh?"
Grant's skin blanched. He slid forward out of his chair on his knees.
His body felt all rubbery. Bryce seemed different. Not only were his
feet huge, but now he seemed to tower over Grant. Grant feels a
coolness on his body and looks down. His clothing has grown big and
fallen off him. He's kneeling it what appears to be a 14 foot
diameter of clothing. No, it didn't grow. He shrank. He looks up,
opens his mouth, and suddenly he's not human anymore.