Jeff had stripped out of his pajama sweats. Now naked, he put Dre on first.
"Whoa, he's toasty warm like fresh out of the dryer," Jeff chuckled.
He pulled on the t-shirt next. The shirt was long enough to cover the top of his jockstrap, but the end kept
rolling up until Jeff's belly button was visible. He pulled it to down three times and then chuckled.
"Miguel, you still have some control? Or is that how you imagined me with my belly button showing? Well, no
matter, I know how to fix this," Jeff said as he tucked Miguel inside Dre's waistband, and chuckled. He
modeled in front of the mirror, he did look fine.
Now it was time for the motorcycle leathers that were Eric. Jeff undid Eric's elaborate zippers and climbed
into the suit. It was a tight fit. At least the leather seemed to breathe, it felt alive as it hugged his
calves and thighs. He jumped with a start as it hugged his butt cheeks and filled his crack. It slid over
Jeff's arms like butter. He was surprised to discover the open finger gloves were attached to the sleeves but
fit him perfectly. He pulled up the zipper. It glided so easily. He had planned to stop midway up his chest,
but the zipper seemed to have a mind of its own and slid all the way to the collar and then made a clicking
sound. As soon as it clicked, all the straps on the leather suit seemed to draw tighter. The stirrups under
his feet tightened and pulled the leather hem of his pants legs down below his ankles. The leather suit seemed
to shrink around Jeff.
"Hey, I'm being shrink wrapped," Jeff said as he watched in the mirror as every detail of his body seemed to
be visible through the tight supple leather hugging his body. His eyes widened a bit when he realized he
could see the ribbing on the jockstrap pouch pushing through the supple black leather of his crotch, and his
erect nipples were visible on his chest through the leather. He rubbed his chin, and muttered, "Hot, but a
little gay. Let's see what you typed, Eric."
He turned and tripped over Marcus, or at least the boots that had been Marcus.
"Oh, almost forgot about you, Marcus," he said as he sat on the floor and pulled the right boot on his bare
foot, "Sorry, no socks today, hope you enjoy the smell. I hadn't planned on you being my shoes, but I hadn't
showered yet today, so it worked out better than if I'd planned it."
He stood, and admired himself in the mirror, "Aw, dudes, I look so friggin' hot. Now if only I had a
motorcycle, I could cruise over to cheerleader practice and pick up -"
CLANG!
The loud noise of metal weights clanging against the concrete interrupted Jeff's thought. He went to the
window and peered out. There was his neighbor Chet, the 28 year old former marine pumping iron in his
driveway right next to Jeff's driveway. The guy was an amateur bodybuilder who had finished third in a
national contest. He was hard at work honing his muscled body. Jeff rubbed his chin, and muttered, "Chet would
make a fine muscle hog, and I bet he's in range of the Chronivac down there."
Jeff moved the antenna to the window sill and trained it down on Chet. He then sat down at his computer
console and began typing. He changed Chet's red black and gold Marine tattoos into flame shaped tats, changed
the words on the American Eagle tattoo and chose the Harley-Davidson model and type. He remembered hearing
that Chet had been born in Wisconsin, so a Harley seemed like the best choice. The clanging of iron stopped
suddenly. Jeff ran back to the window.
Outside, Chet had been squatting and thrusting to lift 400 lb weights. Then he'd lower the weight with a clang
to the concrete driveway and take a break. His wife beater shirt was drenched with sweat and clung to his
glistening muscled body. He had dropped the weights because of an odd tingling sensation on his upper biceps.
He now stared at what had been his Marine Corps tattoo, but now appeared to be racing flames like one sees
painted on cars.
"What the hell?" he said clenching his teeth.
A spark flew out of his mouth as the sound of steel grinding echoed from his teeth. He took two steps and
dropped to his hands, but kept his feet on the ground. Black rubber tires were forming between his hands and
feet and lifting him off the pavement. His cock was suddenly rock hard and growing longer and thinner. It
ripped through his shorts and came to a rest on the driveway supporting his weight. His dick was a kickstand!
He tried to call out, but all he did was make vrooming sounds.
Jeff rubbed his hands in glee as he watched Chet's clothing being reduced to rags for washing his new
motorcycle. Chet's skin had already started to darken to a black metallic sheen and chrome detailing was
visible like veins showing through his skin. But unlike veins they were moving together and thickening. Chet
vroomed loudly. Jeff ran downstairs to move his new bike to his driveway. He grabbed Chet's ears - now
handlebars and wheeled him over the grass ribbon that ran between the driveways of the two houses.
Chet was all motorcycle now with his engine softly purring. Jeff climbed on to the seat of the bike straddling
his former neighbor. This change on the Chronivac had been permanent. A for sale sign had already
materialized in Chet's yard, and as Jeff watched Chet's heavy iron weights faded into oblivion. Jeff shook his
head, he should have thought this out better. He could have made some cash off Chet's stuff instead of simply
making him non-existent. He shrugged. He still had his motorcycle.
"Well, I'll take you for a spin in a minute, Chet," he said, "But first I need a helmet. Don't want anyone
driving off with you or wasting any more gas at these prices." So he grabbed the ignition key and turned it
off.
Mentally, Chet screamed. The key sticking out of him had been his nuts. He felt them pull up into his body
when his dick had elongated and he felt them moving under his skin up his chest around to the back of his neck
where they resurfaced as the ignition key. It had felt like Jeff had grabbed his nuts, and then yanked them
off. Chet had passed out. Perhaps it was from his ignition being turned off, perhaps it was the psychic shock
of being castrated?
Jeff ran upstairs and was surprised to see his brother sitting at his desk with his hands on the Chronivac
keyboard.
"Uh, hey, Mark?"
"Nice outfit, Jeff!" Mark said with a gleam in his eye and a far too friendly smile. His index finger punched
the enter key, and Jeff felt an impending sense of doom.