Stripper on Campus (Patreon)

Kurt didn’t usually take jobs located out in the university campus area. Most often they involved a mob of sorority girls, already drunk from flip-cup games before he’d arrived. Hammered co-eds made some of the worst clients, especially if they lived in houses with Greek letters on the side. More often than not they outnumbered him thirty to one, and seemed to feed off each other’s toxic energy. After coming home with literal whip-cuts on his ass, he told himself the money was not worth it.

This call had come in from a male, however. “Colby” had used enough “dudes” and “bros” during the conversation that Kurt wondered if he was from a fraternity. Plus, he continuously referred to Kurt as “my guy” and absolutely took a bong rip mid-call. However, the address was nowhere near fraternity row.

“Stripping for a bunch of frat guys would be pretty progressive,” Kurt smirked, thinking to himself that things had certainly changed since he was in college 15 years before. Still, dancing for a small group–Colby said there would only be three present–of masculine college bros was enough to pique his curiosity. “Campus homos sure have evolved since my day,” he thought to himself as he packed his duffel bag with oil and bluetooth speakers.

Sure enough, the address led him to a quiet house at the end of a dark street. The roving packs of partygoers were blocks away, and the manicured bushes of the Greek houses were even farther. He wondered if anyone was home, but he heard some chuckling from within when he knocked on the door.

He had time for one quick look at his reflection–his broad shoulders filling out the police uniform that was cut-off just below his pecs, revealing his rippling abs above a pair of shorts cut so low his massive quads were out on full display–before the front door opened.

A bleary-eyed 21 year old ran a hand through his greasy mop of hair as he found himself eye-level with Kurt’s hanging pec shelf. “Holy shit, he’s fucking BIG!” he said as he stumbled back. Kurt nearly choked on the stink of cigarettes and bodyspray surrounding him.

“I’m here about a noise disturbance,” Kurt said, adjusting his mirrored shades (a silly accessory at 11 PM for anyone BUT a cop-disguised-stripper.

“Oh, fuck, officer! Are we too loud?” Another college-aged guy, a rail-thin blonde teetering on unsteady legs, came to the door. “Should we turn it down?”

Kurt shoved the two away and strutted into the room, which was lit only by blacklight. He paused as he realized there were three chairs set out. In the one farthest from the door, a chubby guy in a hooded sweatshirt sat blindfolded, his arms and legs tied to the chair.

“You practicing bondage without a license?” Kurt improvised, feeling uneasy when the front door was locked. The guy in the chair had a huge grin on his face, but he hadn’t been warned about any of this on the phone call. Colby had said it was his friend’s birthday.

“I’m Colby,” said the guy who had answered the door. He was thin with a beer belly poking out of his polo-shirt. A blunt as thick as a finger stuck out of the back pocket of his cargo shorts. “This is Ray,” he said, pointing to the blond, who waved as his head bobbled back and forth. “And the guy in the chair is Duggan, the birthday boy!”

“That true?” Kurt said, clicking his phone to some techno music. The three started cheering as Kurt danced across the room, finally dropping his big, meaty glutes on Duggan’s lap. “Hope you’re not allergic to beef, birthday boy.”

“Fuck, he feels big! Is he big?” Duggan said, rubbing his face against Kurt’s lower back. “Fuck, he SMELLS like a big stud!”

“He’s a big stud!” Colby said. “What are you, 6’3”?”

“6’4”,” Kurt said proudly. He spun around and bent at the waist. He leaned forward and pressed his huge pecs, stretching his shirt to their limit, against Duggan’s face.

“SHIT… those are his pecs? Those feel unreal!” Duggan said. As he pulled his face away, a line of drool tethered Duggan’s face to Kurt’s chest. The stripper smiled, and turned back around.

He froze when he noticed Colby held a green gem.

“The fuck is–” Kurt began, but his voice trailed off. The gem seemed to be pulsing–not to the beat of the music, but to some other discordant rhythm that made Kurt feel nauseous. He forgot what he was saying. He wanted to look away from the gem, but he was also desperate to stare into it.

“HERE we go, big man,” Colby said. Ray reached into Kurt’s bag and took out his phone, shutting off the music. Kurt didn’t do a thing to stop the student from touching his possessions.

“Oh, wow, he’s not even fighting!” Colby said with a grin. Kurt started to feel like he was floating. Had they drugged him? He immediately chided himself for coming in too cocky, assuming these three scrawny college kids were no match for his 280 pound musclestacked body.

“See, these big guys feel all secure in their bodies so they don’t resist,” Ray said. “They have no idea how easy it is to…”

Kurt felt like he was lying on the ceiling now, looking down at the situation. He saw the three smaller students and a massive, muscular man towering over all of them.

“...take that body away from them…”

Suddenly he was falling. He was warm. Everything was dark. He smelled farts and B.O. and cigarettes–cigarettes on his own breath. His head was spinning, his stomach churning. He felt drunk…

“Holy shit, this guy IS big!”

It was his voice, but it didn’t come from him.

“Dude, flex your arms!” That was Colby, but it came from the wrong part of the room. Then, a moment later, “BOOM! We gotta measure! Those things gotta be 22 inches!”

Kurt struggled, his hands and feet trapped in place. “What the… what the fuck…” he said, his speech slow and slurred. He shook his head back and forth, trying to lose his blindfold. Finally, Colby snatched it away.

“How you feelin, ‘Duggan’?” Colby said. The college kid looked WAY more intimidating than before, towering over him now. Kurt tried to resist as Colby reached down and jiggled his fat gut.

Ray held up a mirror and Kurt cried out as he realized he was looking at Duggan’s face while his own body flexed and danced several feet away.

“Dude, no WONDER this guy’s a stripper!” the big man said as he unzipped his tiny police shorts and pulled out a big, swinging dick.

“How… how is this… possible…” Kurt whimpered. He shivered as he realized how small and helpless he was now.

“Undo his bonds, let’s at least give the little fucker a drink!” the big stripper said, pulling off his own shirt and running his hands along his pecs and abs. “Gotta THANK him for this primo bod!”

“G-give me my…” Kurt could barely form the sentence–it seemed too ridiculous to say out loud, his dull senses barely able to take stock of the situation. “Give me back my body!”

“It’s my birthday,” the big stripper said, striding confidently across the room. “So I’m gonna borrow it for a few days. You just be me! It’ll be easy!”

“No!” Kurt protested, struggling to no avail. “Let me go or I’ll–”

“Call the cops?” Colby suggested with a grin as Ray left the room. “Not likely they’ll believe you, especially since you have a bad track record for public intoxication on campus. Beat us up, maybe? I mean, Colby and I could take you easily, but you know just how strong that body of yours is.”

To demonstrate, the massive man grabbed the nearby couch by its end, hugged it, and hoisted it up with ease before dropping it down and flexing his biceps triumphantly.

Ray returned with something balled up in cloth in his hand. “Yo, cover up the green stone,” he said. Colby raised the still growing gem and slid it into a sock, extinguishing the light. “Perfect,” Ray said, unveiling a bright orange gem. “Take a look at this gem, Duggan.”

Kurt tried to look away, but his own body strode up behind him and held his head in place. “Good thing I’m wearing these dumb sunglasses,” he heard his own voice say. “Protects me from the effects of this gem.”

“Just a few more seconds…” Ray said. The light seemed to be pouring into Kurt somehow. Through his eyes it filled his head, sent a warmth down his spine into his extremities.

“And we’re good!” Ray put the gem away, leaving the restrained man gasping for breath. “Now… what’s your name?”

He opened his mouth to respond ‘Kurt’ but instead said, “Guy’s, what the fuck? My name’s fucking Duggan!” He blinked as he realized what he’d said. He tried again to say his name–his real name–but his mouth curled into a smile. “If nobody’s gonna untie me, can you at least hold a funnel up to my mouth? I’d kill to chug some Jager right now.”

Kurt felt cold as he realized his body was on autopilot. Colby cut his bonds and he stood up. Everything in him wanted to run for the door, but he didn’t move. He felt himself getting hard looking at the barely-dressed muscleman now rubbing the oil he’d discovered in Kurt’s bag all over his massive pecs.

“Jesus, what a hot fucking meathead!” Kurt heard himself say. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some cigarettes, snatching a lighter he didn’t realize would be there. He lit the cigarette and took a drag.

“GOOD Duggan,” Colby said, patting his head. “You’ll be safe in there until the big guy is done being you,” he said. “And then you can go back. Until then… enjoy being Duggan!”

Colby and Ray high-fived as the big man walked out of the room, returning a few minutes later in a skin-tight football jersey and sweatpants that had shredded up the sides.

“Biggest clothes I could find, guys!” he said, hitting a most-muscular pose that caused the jersey to tear down its back.

“Fuck yeah! You look so fucking FREAKY big!” Ray said, clapping his hands.

“Dude, he’s WAY bigger than that asshole bouncer at the Tin Cup!” Colby said.

“You guys are really going to the Tin Cup?” Kurt heard himself whine.

The big man stood up tall, throwing his shoulders back. Kurt felt legitimately weak in the knees as the scent of the stud’s cologne hit him just as he took in the sheer magnitude of his giant physique. Fuck, he’d NEVER seen a guy who was that big and intimidating before. He felt his own hands pawing at the erection tenting his sweatpants.

“Duggan, you horny slut,” Colby said, shoving Kurt aside. “Anyway, you’ll have to stay here, buddy, cuz your fake ID got confiscated. But WE are going to go see how that bouncer likes being pushed around!”

“Guys, I’m, like, WAY bigger than him now!” the big man said, bouncing his pecs. “And after I toss him around, maybe I’ll head out to find some closeted football player fun…”

“You guys always have all the fun without me!” Kurt heard himself whine. He screamed inside as he watched the others leave him behind, then found himself heading to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of 40-ounce malt liquor.

“Looks like it’s getting shitty and playing Playstation alone,” he heard himself say. “Wish I was as big as that stripper guy! Must be nice to have muscles on muscles.” He farted loudly, chuckled, and nestled back into the couch. The whole time, Kurt knew his own car keys and phone were mere feet away. If only he could stand up and grab them, he could escape, but Duggan wouldn’t do that, so Kurt couldn’t either.