Living in the Penthouse with Runt was even more odd than living with him in my old apartment. Now, we were acting more like a couple,
though we slept in separate beds. We were becoming familiar with each other. I no longer minded when he saw me naked, which was less
often. He had taken the habit of wearing clothes, though rarely was he wearing much.
I never went to work in the end. I didn't need the money as much any more. I had plenty saved up for groceries, and that would last a while.
Runt said he was going to change Left and Right back into my shoes, apologizing for the inconvenience. I told him not to, to leave them as they
were. He didn't understand but shrugged, saying they were just shoes. But they weren't, they were alive, and I didn't want him to kill them.
They became members of the household. I set up some beds for them in one of the spare rooms and even bought them some proper clothes to
wear, which they seemed to appreciate, not that they could say anything.
Runt had no qualms about giving them instructions, which were often sexual. At first, I didn't. But when I noticed that when they didn't have an
instruction they would just sit and do nothing, I began to get into the habit. They seemed happy enough, and it was easy to get used to having
staff. Or slaves, I suppose.
I was looking forward to my next transformation, though I hadn't decided what it would be yet. However, I couldn't help but notice that my
body was looking a little bit more... muscular than usual. A little trimmer, a little slimmer. I wondered if this was because of all the exercise I'd
gotten as a dog, or if Runt had been making slight adjustments whenever he changed me back, presuming I wouldn't notice. There was one
way to check of course. I stood in front of the mirror and pulled down my pants. My cock was a little longer and a little thicker than I
remembered. How he thought I wouldn't notice is beyond me. I thought about yelling at him for changing me without my permission, but this
was a change I could get used to.
I also couldn't help but notice that Runt was having a greater effect on me. Before, I had only been gay if I were looking at him, and maybe it
took a bit to wear off. Now, I could feel myself going hard in the hallway before I even walked in and sometimes I caught myself checking out
guys in the street. I thought I should be outraged, but it felt so good, better than ever than when I was straight. I doubted that all gay men felt
as good as I did then.
On the afternoon of the second day, I passed a man in the hallway.
"Oh," he said, "You're new, aren't you?"
He was a young man, attractive with blonde hair and a swimmers physique, and bore all the naivety of wealth.
"Yeah," I shrugged.
"Well," he opened, "I'm having a New Year's Party at my place tomorrow. Do you have plans?"
"Uh, no."
"Here. A sort of welcome to the building."
He handed me an invitation. I resisted the temptation to tell him I'd lived in the building for over a year now.
"It's a costume party, by the way," he smiled as he continued his walk down the hall.
It suddenly struck me that tomorrow was also the day Runt could transform me, as per our deal. I was gonna have one hell of a costume.