Lain wasn’t crazy about the idea of taking a shower in the gym’s locker room, but he didn’t have much of a choice. His job was stressful, the hours long, and the only time he had to work out was during his hour-long lunch break (he could eat at his desk while he poured over spreadsheets and returned emails). The alternative was not to work out at all, and that, he knew, based on the physical appearances of some of the higher-ups at his firm, was a one-way express ticket to fat ass town.

  For Lain, that prospect was totally unacceptable, a fate almost as bad as death, and so, every day at twelve o’clock sharp, he got up from his desk, took the elevator downstairs to the lobby, and walked the two blocks to the gym he had signed up for on his very first day of work two years ago, after scouting out all of the other gyms that were within reasonable walking distance from his office.

  It was seedier than the higher-end gyms in the neighborhood, but he hadn’t picked it because of the price. Instead, he had chosen it because the so-called “luxury” alternatives were the known stomping grounds of his colleagues (and his bosses, and their bosses, and so on).

  He wasn’t interested in socializing during his workouts, which is what would inevitably happen if he frequented these other places and ran into his coworkers there. No, all he wanted to do was get in, get changed, stick his headphones in, and blast through his workout, totally locked in. He only had about forty minutes to actually exercise after all, once he factored in the time it took to walk to and back from the gym, plus changing into and out of his gym clothes, as well as showering. He really couldn’t afford to waste any time.

  It was the bathing situation that was the worst part of it all, though. The gym was in the basement of a 1950s-built skyscraper, but the actual locker room was located on the floor under it, and then the showers were yet another floor below them. The sub-sub-basement, if that was even a real term.

  Each time he made the trek down to that subterranean shower room, towel, soap bar, and shampoo and conditioner all in one hand, he always felt a little freaked out, like he was descending into some cursed dungeon, replete with skeletons and monsters. But he didn’t have much of a choice – he absolutely had to shower. In an industry like his, where appearances sometimes mattered more than actual competence, he could not afford to walk back into his office stinking of sweat. It very well could be a fireable offence.

  So down into the dreaded sub-sub basement he went, every weekday. He suspected the other gym-goers felt similarly about the shower room, too, because he rarely encountered anyone else down there either.

  Which is why, when he heard the feet slapping on the wet tile behind him, he turned to look to see who it was. He was just so surprised that anyone else besides himself had ventured down into the sub-sub basement that he didn’t even consider the fact that he was breaking sacred, albeit unwritten, gym etiquette until it was far too late.

  For his sins, he was rewarded with the sight of an exceptionally hairy, exceptionally balding, and exceptionally fat man, naked except for the gold chain he was wearing around his neck, the eye shaped pendent resting between his pectorals and just above the start of his rounded, genetically enhanced watermelon-sized stomach.

  Lain quickly swiveled back to face the dirty tile wall, utterly embarrassed. But that feeling of shame was all too temporary, because, a few seconds later, his face was being pressed against that same stained tile, while his right arm was being twisted behind him.

  He was being assaulted, he realized. He had offended the man by looking at him, evidently very seriously, and now that man was attacking Lain in retribution for his transgression.

  “Sorry, it was an accident!” Lain cried. “I didn’t mean to!”

  “What are you talking about?” the man asked, in a - to Lain- unidentifiable accent. “I do not care about that. My balls are just full. I am in need of the fuck.”

  How Lain wished, after hearing that, that the man was just looking to beat him up over his violation of shared shower norms.

  Lain tried to move his neck, but the man only pushed his head against the wall even harder. He tried to move his right arm, but the man only pulled it higher. His left arm was useless as well, as it could do nothing but paw at the empty air, while his feet kicked into the void between himself and any part of the man that, if damaged, might dissuade him from his (horrifying) choice of action.

  Lain was a strong guy – stronger than most, ironically because of his frequent visits to this very same gym that was now the setting of one of his worst nightmares. It was just that the Man, despite all appearances, was somehow even stronger than he was.

  The Man used his own feet to kick Lain’s own to either side, spreading his legs out more. It was no mystery to Lain as to why he had done it.

  “Please, don’t do this!” Lain pleaded.

  “You can scream all you want, boy,” the Man replied calmly. “For me, it does nothing. I am using your soap as lube, by the way.”

  Before Lain could protest again, his head exploded. At least, that’s how it felt, as the Man shoved his hard, thick cock into Lain’s virgin anus.

  “Very good,” the Man remarked. “Nice and tight. I was worried you were gay boy before, with loose asshole.”

  Lain couldn’t manage to say anything more as the Man began to thrust into him, slowly at first, then more quickly as he found his rhythm. The only sound that came out of Lain at all, even to his own surprise, was a low, long moan.

  “You like that?” the Man asked, as he pulled on Lain’s hair, wrenching his head and neck backwards, until he could feel the hot breath of the Man on his right ear. “Maybe you are gay boy after all, huh?”

  The thing was, Lain was a hundred percent sure he wasn’t. He even had a long-time girlfriend that he was already planning to propose to (he already had the ring picked out and everything).

  But what did it mean, then, when the pain disappeared entirely, giving way to a level of ecstasy he had previously only felt at the end of a male-female-female threesome he had managed to pull off on a cruise he had taken with his family during the summer break of his first year at college?

  He moved his eyes downward, straining to confirm what he now suspected. But what he found was undeniable: not only was his own dick rock hard, but even now he was still ejaculating, shooting white load after white load onto the wall, where it then dribbled down and mixed with the blood that had been running down his legs, creating a white-red soup that then ran, hurried on by the water, into the rusty drain that lay in the dead center of the room.

  With his free hand, the Man reached down and around so that he could grab Lain’s cock, and began stroking it. Lain, despite himself, moaned again.

  “That’s it,” the Man said, whispering, with an almost gentle tone. “Let all of it out now. No more of that nasty poison.”

  While still moving himself into and out of Lain, the Man lowered his hand until he found the glans of Lain’s penis, and cupped his fingers around it. Then, with a level of gentleness he had not exhibited heretofore, he began to push Lain's penis upwards, back in the direction of Lain’s clean-shaven groin.

  Lain’s penis was, to his pride, seven inches long, but, as it was being pressed by the callused hand of the Man, it was permanently and impossibly shortening. For each inch that was lost, a slew of other physical changes were occurring to Lain, both externally and internally.

  Six inches: Lain’s hair started to grow longer and darken from its natural blonde coloring. His chiseled abs and pectorals softened. His hips widened, and his legs took on mass. Years of work at the gym were undone in a matter of moments.

  Five inches: His hair was now down to his shoulders and had begun to turn curly. His lips pushed themselves outwards, along with his stomach and chest. His thighs and ass were now rounder than his own girlfriend’s.

  Four inches: the masculine hands that had been placed up against the wall since the start of his assault became daintier, the fingers thinner and the nails longer. His breasts were now a solid C cup, and the belly that hung underneath them had dropped so low it was almost touching the back of the Man’s hairy hand.

  Three Inches: His calves thickened. His curly, jet-black hair was now touching the top of his ass, which the Man began to move his left hand over, grabbing it here and there and admiring how meaty it had become. Lain’s jaw softened, and his nose grew more prominent.

  Two Inches: His testicles had ascended to the point where they were now actually adjacent to what little remained of his cock. His tits were a D cup and still growing, and so were his ass and thighs, which had swelled to the point they had begun to push the Man back a little along the floor of the shower room.

  One Inch: The nipples on each of his F-cup tits turned a light brown. His testicles fused back into his body, becoming a pair of fertile ovaries. His ass and thighs spurted again, and finally settled at truly gargantuan proportions. His belly now drooped over the nub of dick he still had left, hiding it behind a wall of soft flesh.

  Lain’s penis was now gone, assimilated into his new vagina, and he could feel something coming now, from deep inside the organ.

  Something new.

  Something wonderful

  Lain didn’t moan this time– he screamed, in a feminine voice that was so unfamiliar to him that he didn’t even register it as his own at first. But even as it rang out, echoing all around the shower room, his voice changed again, becoming deeper and more hoarse, infused with decades of cigarette and alcohol use.

  Deep wrinkles formed on his forehead. Spots of sun damage sprouted all along his chest. His breasts, belly, thighs, and ass began to sag, creating stretch marks that burned blood red before cooling off to become faint white lines. Streaks of grey shot through his hair, from his forehead to the split ends that teased the top of his newly elongated ass crack. Laugh lines materialized on his cheeks, while crow’s feet sprouted from the corners of his eyes. Black hair began growing from his pubis up to his deep belly button, and down to encircle his dark anus. Decades of ovarian reserves vanished in seconds, leaving her ovaries smaller and nearly depleted, while her estrogen levels plunged. Her uterus contracted slightly, its lining thinning as her reproductive system settled into the final stages of menopause.

  When the orgasm finally subsided, Lain was not just a woman. She was a fifty-six-year-old Eastern European woman, and about a hundred pounds overweight.

  Just like the Man liked ‘em.

  “Finally,” the Man said, and pulled his bloodied cock out of Lain’s anus with a grunt. “From now on, let us save the anal sex for only our most special days, yah?”

---

Having made that promise, he inserted himself into her vagina. The blood, pre cum, and soap that was still coating his cock, along with the natural lubricant produced by her vagina, ensured that it slid in easily. It was also much looser than her ass had been, and so the Man was free to fuck her much harder than he had before.

  Keeping one hand on her dense right hip, he used the other to grab hold of a handful of her hair and pulled it hard. That made Lain moan again, though it was hard for the Man to hear her over the wet sounds of his belly and her ass rhythmically colliding.

  Lain could tell, even in his new form, that after the earthquake that had been her first orgasm, another was not likely to come. Instead, she was immersed in a dull pool of steady pleasure. But the Man, she knew, had yet to be satisfied.

  “Son of a bitch!” the Man cried, right on cue, and pulled her hair even harder, so forcefully that she felt like he might just rip it all out by accident.

  His thrusting began to slow, and she could feel his fat cock twitch inside her as he shot hot load after hot load deep into her vagina. Dimly, she wondered if she might get pregnant.

  He leaned down, resting his hairy gut on her back, causing it to pool out to either side. They stayed in that position, the hot water still raining down over them, for two minutes, until his cock became flaccid enough to fall out of her on its own.

  When it did, unleashing a torrent of semen to fall out of her cunt, he leaned down and kissed Lain on the top of her head, in a spot where the Man could see a glimpse of her pale white scalp through her thinning hair.

  “I love you,” he managed to say, in between labored breaths.

---

Twenty minutes later, they were walking out of the Gym together, fully clothed, hand in hand. The Man, whose name was Marek, she had learned, had brought a change of clothes for her, and she was wearing them now: old black sneakers, a pair of size 28W jeans (according to the faded label on the inside of the waistband), and a black-and-white striped long-sleeve T-shirt that was just short enough to reveal a bit of her belly, barely being contained by her wide jeans.

  She had changed first, and after Marek was finished watching her struggle for two minutes to get the jeans up and over her now enormous ass, he had changed into a white tank top and sweatpants, which he had retrieved from the same nondescript gym bag he had smuggled her clothes in.

  “My car is right around the corner, Nadine,” Marek said, before patting her on her right butt cheek. “It is a yellow cab.”

  He had been calling her that for a while now, and she had accepted it along with everything else. Because really, what else could she do? She had known she had no other choice but to go with him after what she saw back in the gym’s sub-basement.

  “Go pee,” he had told her, after he turned the shower head off. “You do not want to get a urinary tract infection. We will not be able to fuck for weeks. I will have to go fuck a hooker just to get through it.”

  Lain’s (former) girlfriend had always done the same after they had sex, and so she didn’t argue. But when she waddled into the women’s bathroom, still naked, she caught a glimpse of herself in the one mirror that still had enough space unmarred by scratched in graffiti to see her reflection.

  Like her new voice, it took her a moment to register that the face she saw in the mirror, surrounded by tags for names like TRU BALLER and G MONEY, was her own.

  She was old. Really old. Maybe even older than her own Mother was (though she doubted they were related any longer). Certainly too old to still have children, so at least she wouldn’t have to worry about that.

  Marek came in, then, and pressed himself against her. He reached around, lifted her shirt, and began rubbing and grabbing her belly with his thick, calloused fingers.

  “Sorry, I know you still need to pee,” he said, “but I had to touch you again. I have never felt something so exquisite.”

  He lifted her belly with both of his hands, then let it fall, causing it to smack against her fat groin.

  “ You know you must come with me, no?” he continued. “ There is no other way. The police won’t believe you. Your family and your girlfriend won’t even recognize you. You have no identification, and no money you can still access. If I don’t take you home with me, you’ll be in a shelter tonight, or out on the streets, where you will be raped. In a week’s time, you will whoring yourself out for pennies in some shithole. In this scenario, you will be lucky to still be alive in a year. And, even if you do, you certainly will not make it through the second year. The only thing you can really do, Nadine, is to come home with me. You are my wife now.”

  Despite everything that had occurred to her, her mind had been left intact. She still had the intelligence that had gotten her into one of the most prestigious firms not just in the city or the country, but the entire world.

  And she knew he was right. God help her, he was right.

---

She was now riding past what had been her office building, in the passenger seat of Marek’s cab. She turned as they passed and saw some of her old coworkers coming out onto the street, a mix of young women and young men, no doubt on their way to lunch together. They were laughing and talking amongst themselves, completely oblivious to the fate that had befallen their coworker.

  Would they spend much time at all wondering about what had happened to her? She doubted it. It was a competitive Firm in a competitive Industry, and they would probably just be grateful to not have Lain around to worry about anymore, regardless of what had occurred to have made that the case.

  She thought about making some kind of remark to Marek about it, but decided against doing so. She sensed it would only make him angry. He hadn’t made it explicit, but she could intuit that any talk of her former life was strictly verboten. She would not be surprised, if she foolishly tried to, that he wouldn’t just smack her straight across her face.

  She craned her head up and tried to see if she could catch a glimpse of the top of the building, where her former office was situated among the very top four floors, no doubt costing the Firm tens of thousands of dollars in rent each month.

  She found that she could not, but tempered her own disappointment. She had been expelled from that world, she reminded herself, cast down from it forever, never to return. These towers of glass and steel that surrounded them on either side in this part of the City, and the ecosystem of luxury stores, high-end restaurants, private schools, and exclusive clubs they supported, were no longer for her, and never would be again.

  There was also the matter of her former parents and former girlfriend, but she quickly banished the thought of them from her mind. It was too painful to dwell on, and there wasn’t anything she could do for them now anyway.

  Marek reached over and undid the top button of her jeans. He lifted her pooling belly, reached down, and found her clit. He began rubbing it, almost absentmindedly, as if just to give him something to do with his free hand while driving, when he wasn’t screaming obscenities at the other drivers.

  Nadine leaned back against the worn leather headrest and closed her eyes, determined to at least try to enjoy Marek’s blunt physical stimulation of her body, in the hopes that it would make her feel good, even just a little, tiny bit.

  She quickly found that doing so was easier than she thought it would be.