“I think I’ll be Tarzan," Andy said, "Might as well be creative." The
amulet on his chest glowed brightly for several seconds, then
subsided.
*****************
Meanwhile, Mitch was sitting in his office reviewing the last bit of
his presentation. Everything looks good, he thought to himself. He
hit the print button on the computer, satisfied that the presentation
was going to be a smash. When he got up out of his chair, however, a
sharp pain shot through his legs. It almost felt like his legs
weren’t bending right, and he felt the need to squat. His walking was
becoming more unsteadily, so he decided to change directions from the
printer to the bathroom.
He found the bathroom unoccupied, and hobbled over best he could
towards the full-length mirror built into the wall. He allowed his
body to relax and found his legs bent at what seemed like an
impossibly uncomfortable angle. It almost reminded him of how a frog
would sit. Meanwhile his balance was maintained by his knuckles,
which were resting comfortably on the ground like a gorilla. Mitch
pulled himself up to his full standing height, but he felt widely
unstable. It was as if he couldn’t remember how to walk well without
balancing on his knuckles. Why would I want to walk on two legs
anyways? Mitch thought to himself. Using my knuckles to stable myself
is much more comfortable, not to mention that it allows climbing
through the trees so much easier.
Wait, climbing through trees? Mitch had no idea where that thought
had come from. He was terrified of heights. Yet he couldn’t shake
the fact that he felt comfortable up high, soaring through vines from
tree to tree in the jungle. He seemed to be unsure of his past, as if
another set of memories were ingraining themselves in his mind.
He wasn’t allowed to dwell on the thoughts much longer, as a sharp
pain shot out from his feet. His shoes felt ridiculously tight, as if
they had shrunk. He sat down and struggled to pull his shoes off.
They had definitely grown tighter, and his feet felt like they were
going to explode out of the shoes at any moment. He finally was able
to pull the shoes off and massage his feet through his socks. Why am
I wearing socks? He thought. Bare feet make much more sense for
gripping branches. He pulled the socks off and was amazed to see how
big his feet had grown. They had to be at least three sizes larger
than they were that morning when he got out of bed. Nevertheless, it
felt so much more comfortable to be walking around barefoot, they way
he always had in the past.
In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he was
wearing a lot of unnecessary clothes. What is all this I’m wearing?
He though to himself. His clothes were starting to feel tighter
anyways. He pulled off his jacket and tossed it on the ground. He
was unable from taking off his shirt because of some piece of fabric
hanging down from his neck. Part of him was saying that this was
supposed to be there, but a growing voice in his mind had no idea what
it was. His shirt was pulled tight across his chest, and the colorful
piece of fabric hanging down was tight around his throat. He pulled
tighter on the fabric, but it seemed to tighten instead of loosening.
The last bit of old Mitch that was almost completely being overtaken
was able to guide the hands to the knot at the top of the tie and
loosen it to where he could slide it off over his head.
Mitch threw the fabric away in anger, his shirt slightly ripping from
his huge muscles pushing out through his arms. In a burst of
strength, Mitch ripped the shirt open, letting it fall and revealing
his large muscular arms and toned abs. He rested back down on his
knuckles, feeling much more comfortable. He had been so focused on
his chest that he hadn’t even realized that his hair now hung long and
loose down to his shoulder blades, and it looked like it hadn’t been
washed in a while.
The only clothing he was still wearing were his pants and briefs. His
growing pelvis was putting considerable strain on his waist, and he
struggled to release the pants. There was some kind of leather strap
wrapped around his waist, and after pulling at it hard enough, it
finally loosened enough that he could rip the top of the pants open.
The button on the top flew across the bathroom and hit the wall, and
the zipper pulled down immediately to make room for Mitch’s growing
crotch. Phew! That feels so better. He pulled the pants off his
muscled legs, leaving himself only in his white briefs.
His briefs were straining to hold his huge manhood. Mitch looked down
and watched as the white fabric grew in the crotch area, shaping
itself to mold around his member. The fabric changed from
uncomfortable cotton to the soft feeling of leather that he had worn
for years. The back of the briefs bunched up into his but, turning
into a soft leather strap wresting comfortably in between his butt
cheeks. The leather itself grew worn and a strong but comfortable
scent struck Mitch in his nostrils. His white briefs had now become a
well-worn leather thong. To complete the only piece of clothing that
he was wearing, two leather flaps pulled out in the front and back of
the thong, covering his butt and his pouch, completing his new leather
loincloth.
He looked at himself in the mirror. He body was filled with muscle,
his back bent so that he could walk comfortably on his knuckles. His
long hair hung down in front of his face, now hardened with a lifetime
of jungle living. His leather loincloth did little to hide his
massive endowment. “Me Tarzan. Me look good,” he felt himself
saying. He shook his head. That wasn’t right. He tried to talk
again. “Me king of the jungle. Me rule over apes.” The voice of
Tarzan had completely taken over Mitch’s mind, the old Mitch locked
away in some back corner of his memories.
Mitch (now Tarzan) felt a compelling urge to cry out and exclaim
himself as king of the apes. He pounded his hands against his checks
and cried out his massive jungle cry at the top of his lungs.