Brandon Twice
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Paulie's Lucky Bandana Part 2 [redux]
🕑 Added 2023-09-23 19:25:24 +0000 UTC[part 1 here]
Paulie bit his lip and rubbed his moistening eyes with the back of his hand. He had no idea where his bandana was, and was facing the possibility of being stuck as this scrawny NOTHING forever. He had no idea if he could even add muscle to this stick-thin body, and that’s not even regarding the fact that he could never build back the entire twelve inches of height he was missing! (Plus, his cock was tiny now as well.) His lower lip trembled and he tightened his towel–the only article of clothing he had now that Rex had made off with his
The FUCK was he doing? He was big Paulie–the BIGGEST guy at Global Gym–about to cry in the locker room? He sniffled and pulled himself together.
He had a bandana to find. That was all. It couldn’t have walked off on its own. He heard Bix wheeling his mop bucket by and turned around. “Hey–hey mister?” he said in his thin, high voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Excuse me?” Should he use Bix’s name, he wondered? Technically, this scrawny version of him was a complete stranger to the janitor.
Bix waved an exhausted hand at him. “If you’ve got any issues with the equipment, file a complaint up front–”
“Someone stole my clothes,” Paulie said, hopping to his feet. He hated the fact that even Bix was taller than he was.
“File a complaint with the front–”
“Is there anything I can wear? Like a… lost and found? Some shorts I can borrow?” He grew impatient. If someone had his bandana, they were getting further away every moment! When he was full-sized, people usually just did whatever he asked. Having to be polite and patient… Damn, he didn’t spend twenty years building up his body for this!
Bix chuckled. “Yeah, we do, but you won’t like it.” Bix walked away and came back with a set of power rangers sweatpants and a pink tank top that was obviously for a woman. “There were some bras and underwear in there but I’m assuming you just needed something temporary. Lucky for you, there’s a set of flip-flops, too!” He dangled a set of sparkly pink flip-flops on his index finger.
Paulie swallowed his pride and grabbed the articles of clothing. “Fine,” he said. He dropped his towel, something he would casually do when he was a 300 pound pro-bodybuilder. Themoment his skinny legs and tiny nub were exposed, he clapped both hands over himself. His whole body turned bright pink.
Bix laughed and tossed the clothes to Paulie before turning around. “Y’know, you’re pretty confident for someone of… uh, your ‘stature,’” he said.
Paulied pulled them on and ran out the door. You’re not you, he told himself. Who cares if they laugh at you? They don’t know who you are.
Across the gym, he saw Rex approaching the front desk with his gym bag. He clenched his fists, furious, but there wasn’t much he could do to stand up to Rex now. He watched Bick, his client, storming out the door, clearly angry that big Paulie was nowhere to be found fifteen minutes into their scheduled session. Then he noticed his best friend, Clint, stepping off the leg press. As he turned, rubbing the sweat from his mohawk, Paulie saw his bandana hanging out the back of Clint’s compression tights, tucked into the waistband.
Normally, the 5’4” Clint only came up to Paulie’s pecs (despite being nearly as wide as he was tall). Now their height difference had reversed; Paulie felt his mouth going dry. While Rex seemed as tall as a building to him now, Clint seemed as big as a mountain. His size shook Paulie on a deep, internal level; something about Clint’s imposing body mass made Paulie’s spine go rigid. He respected the more powerful animal immediately (and he knew from personal experience just how much force Clint could exert with those big mitts of his).
He watched his best friend waddling around between sets. Clint looked right at him and just glanced past, totally unaware that the oddly dressed little runt was actually his best friend and bodybuilding role model. Rex passed by (roughly nudging little Paulie out of the way as if he didn’t notice him until the next minute).
“Yo Clint, you seen Paulie?” Rex asked loudly. Paulie froze, just feet away. He pretended to be examining a leg extension machine.
“I think he was headed for a shower,” Clint said. “Haven’t seen him since then.”
“I saw some little shit going through his stuff,” Rex said. Clint’s eyes went wide.
“For real? I saw a guy walking around with his bandana! Must have swiped it while he was washing up. I snatched it from him and had the guys up front toss him out.”
Rex shook his head. “Looks like big Paulie has some stalkers. I dealt with that, back when I was still playing ball. Funny, though. I don’t think I ever seen big Paulie without his bandana.”
“He’s probably panicking if he can’t find it,” Clint said, yanking it out. He sniffed it and winced. “FUCK me, that stinks.”
“I’ll bring it back to him,” Rex said. “He’s probably still in the locker room.”
“Give it a wash. I’m tired of catching whiffs of it while we’re lifting.”
The two laughed. Paulie froze as his prized possession changed hands. Clint returned to the leg press. Rex walked by; Paulie felt the urge to snatch it from his big mitt rise and fall. He calmly turned and walked behind Rex, shivering in the shade of the bulky NFL lineman’s shadow.
When they were off the gym floor, heading down the hallway toward the locker rooms, Paulie dared to get close to Rex. Then he saw his chance: Rex’s phone vibrated. As he dug into his pocket, Paulie reached out slowly and snatched his bandana.
It slid through Rex’s hands just before his fist clenched. Paulie sprinted down the hallway as fast as he could, but the bigger man’s stride was twice as long. Powered by explosive energy he’d used to rocket toward giant men on the football field, Rex advanced on Paulie like a juggernaut.
“Little shit!” Rex roared, his hand grabbing Paulie’s tank top. The little guy slipped out of it easily and sprinted, his heart pounding with the knowledge that he had a freight train of hardened athlete hurtling at him at full speed. His only advantages were his small size and his quickness.
Paulie ducked into a nearby posing room and slammed the door. In the dark, he slid on the bandana. He felt a moment of pressure on his legs as his rapidly enlarging form burst through his pants. The weight of his larger physique hit him hard, the strain on his joints and the soreness from the previous day’s heavy bench session returning to him. The ache filled him with a sense of relief.
Rex threw open the door, smashing the light switch with a clumsy hand. He froze as he stared at big Paulie, nude except for his bandana, reflected dozens of times in the four mirrored walls. Paulie put one hand over his junk. He had no desire to explain himself. Explanations weren’t usually necessary at his current size.
“Hey, Rex, can you… uh… grab me my gym bag?”
Rex slowly stepped in and shut the door. He blinked, clearly processing what had gone on. “Your bandana…” he said, his brow furrowing as he absentmindedly scratched his scarred left bicep.
“Clothes, Rex,” Paulie repeated. “It’s kinda cold in here.”
“You were the little guy,” Rex said. “You’re the little guy every time the bandana comes off. Am I right?”
Paulie’s head sank, his gaze buried in his melon-sized pectoral muscles. “Kinda tough to discuss this when I’m fucking naked…” he said.
Rex took a step forward, collecting a shred of the destroyed pants from the ground.
“You got cursed,” Rex said. He placed a strong hand on Paulie’s shoulder.
Paulie exhaled heavily. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low.
“Ex-girlfriend?” Rex asked.
The vulnerability of the moment was thick. Paulie’s mouth was dry. “Ex-boyfriend,” he said, another heavy admission. Rex smiled.
Rex’s hand reached back and locked the posing room door. He peeled off his sweaty t-shirt and yanked down his shorts revealing the heavily scarred, fur-covered body that had hardened from years of smashing into and tossing three-hundred pound men. He lacked the beautiful curves of Paulie’s physique. Where Paulie looked like an inflated anatomy chart, Rex looked like a neanderthal, thick with power that came from deep in his genetics.
Neither of them spoke as Rex tugged at his black jockstrap. As it slid down his legs, Rex’s big dick flopped forth. It barely had time to swing twice before the mountainous man vanished, replaced by a pale, hairless man one-fifth the size of the beast he’d been before.
Rex was now staring up at Paulie. His alabaster skin was smooth, lacking Rex’s scarred tissues. The former NFL player’s thick mane of hair looked absurdly long on the much smaller man, hanging down to his mid-back. His body was delicate and whip-thin. The indestructible athlete now looked like a strong breeze could knock him over.
“How–” Paulie began.
“Ex-boyfriend,” said Rex in a much higher voice. He smiled, then slipped the jock back on. All of Rex’s size and brawn returned in an instant. He was once again a head taller than Paulie, so big he would fill a doorframe.
Without a thought Paulie reached forward and grabbed his friend, pulling him close. He nestled his head in Rex’s furry chest before the two started passionately kissing, hands exploring everywhere except the two cursed garments. They grunted like beasts as they ground their groins together. Each man’s tough exterior seemed to be dissolving in the wake of their revelations.
Someone knocked at the door. Rex pulled away from Paulie from a moment and smiled.
“Fucking occupied!” he growled, and he and Paulie intertwined again, nearly 300 pounds of testosterone-drenched male flesh finally satisfying long-denied needs.
