Enjoy.",
"writing": "[b][u][center]Extra-Juicy Shorts\nFor Damiekinz\nBy Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]\n \n \n \n \n \n\n\n\nKyle was still attracting attention in the gym parking lot as he got out of his car. The way that all the other men in the lot just locked eyes with his ass as he made his way from the small vehicle to the front door was still so fucking weird. Just staring, the lot of them, their eyes locked on his ass cheeks as they swayed back and forth, back and forth –\n\nNah, nah, they were probably just staring at the word ‘Juicy’ writ large on the back of them. The Clydesdale didn’t like ‘em, but they were part of the whole bet that he’d taken with some of the guys. Wear the stupid things for a week, and if he could deal with all the stares and teases, he’d get a hundred bucks out of it. Seemed simple, at the time. Now? Now, he wasn’t so sure.\n\nShaking his head, Kyle grabbed the front door and pulled it open. As he stepped inside, Greg looked up from the papers on the front desk. The rottweiler met his eyes for a moment, blinked, then looked back down.\n\n“Uh…”\n\n“Don’t say a word,” Kyle muttered, walking up and fiddling in his pocket for his ID. “I’m just doing this for a bet.”\n\n“Dude, the fuck…”\n\n“It’s a bet,” he repeated, shaking his head as he fought the tight pocket for his ID. “Fucking – come on, get outta there.”\n\n“Dude.”\n\n“Almost –”\n\n“Dude!”\n\n“What?” the Clydesdale grunted as he finally managed to yank the card free.\n\n“…You seriously don’t know?”\n\n“Dude, if this is about the shorts, just stop. They’re juicy. That’s all. Just lemme in so I can get my gains, man.”\n\n“…And I thought I’d seen it all.”\n\nShaking his head, the rottweiler scanned the horse’s ID card, passed it back, and waved him through. Kyle felt Greg’s eyes on his ass for the few steps that it took to get to the back of the gym, and he shook his head as the door closed behind him.\n\n[i]Perv,[/i] he thought. [i]Guess I can’t blame him. I got a nice ass, but come on. Just let it go.[/i]\n\nHe waddled a bit between the aisles of lockers. Nothing to change into today; he just had to wear the shorts and get to the exercise equipment. As he made his way through the locker room, he swore that he could feel more than just the eyes of everyone else on him. Hell, it almost felt like –\n\nNo way. Nah. Not a jiggle. Not even a hint of a jiggle back there. That’d mean that he was putting on weight or some shit like that. No way was he going to be losing any of the gains that he’d gotten.\n\nAnd besides. The shorts were still fitting…right?\n\nHe paused at one of the many, many mirrors in the locker room and looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, the denim shorts with the bright pink ‘Juicy’ across the back were still just as tight around his ass as ever. Admittedly, he didn’t remember proportions quite like what he was seeing, with a pair of cheeks a bit further around than his hips were, but hell, the shorts were as tight as they had been when he’d put them on. If there was anything bigger back there, he'd see them pulling tighter, sliding between the cheeks or something like that.\n\nEverything was fine.\n\nThere was nothing different about him.\n\nTrotting into the gym, he grabbed a towel from the rack by the locker room door. Kyle fought the weird feeling of wobbling cheeks behind him, sure that he was just imagining it, and made his way across the gym floor. Again, he was sure that there were all kinds of eyes on him, but again –\n\n[i]Why all the men?[/i]\n\nHe didn’t have that big an ass. Okay, no, that wasn’t right. He had [i]an[/i] ass, big enough to notice in the mirror, but that was all because of the damn shorts. They made it look like he had more junk in the trunk than he had any right to. If it wasn’t for the shorts, then they’d look just about normal.\n\nShaking his head, he forced himself to walk a little straighter. Whatever wobbles were going on back there were just part of his imagination. Nothing was any bigger than it ever had been. If it was, his shorts would be close to splitting or something like that. He was fine. He was [i]fine.[/i]\n\nHe hit the bench press, then the leg press. He used the free weights, and then he grabbed hold of a medicine ball, squatting and bouncing back up again. The weights made his arms burn in short order, and his legs likewise, but his cheeks –\n\nPop.\n\nPop.\n\nPop.\n\nEvery time he dropped, his cheeks bounced back a bit, and he swore that he could feel them bobbing down, jiggling just enough to tap his hooves on the way down. After his last set, he turned around, looking at himself in the mirror.\n\nDespite his suspicions, nothing had fallen out, or slipped, or otherwise made a show of itself. The shorts were still pulled tight against his ass, tighter than he’d entirely like, and the ‘i’ of ‘Juicy’ was right between his cheeks. Hell, he was all but sure that the lower-case i was right against his asshole, the little dot over it close to being swallowed against –\n\n[i]Nah, nah, I’m imagining shit,[/i] Kyle thought, looking away from the mirror and the sight of his ass. [i]Ain’t that big. Just the tight shorts. That’s all.[/i]\n\nAnd for the horse, it really was. It was just his imagination that he felt his ass cheeks rolling, bouncing against each other a bit. That was all, just his imagination. Didn’t matter that the rest of the gym was staring at him with every step he took, or the fact that he’d felt the edge of them touching his hooves somehow. That was just him overthinking things. He needed to stop doing that.\n\nStill shaking his head, the big, burly stallion threw one leg over the seat of the peloton bike and adjusted himself to be as comfortable as he could. He swore that the big seats used to be bigger, but shrugged that off as one more part of his brain playing tricks on him. No point in thinking about that now. \n\nTapping the screen, he leaned forward and waited for the exercise countdown. As soon as it hit zero, he was off –\n\n“Mmmph…”\n\nAnd he felt the familiar burn in his thighs almost immediately, as well as a strange but sensual feeling in his ass. The way that his cheeks rolled made him feel like the soft, jiggly things were rubbing right against his pucker, teasing his rim as he pedaled like a maniac. He shook his head, trying to keep his focus on the screen, but his ears flicked as the other gym-goers around him muttered under their breath.\n\n“The hell that stallion been eating? He’s got an ass bigger than a mare.”\n\n“Looks like someone stuffed hams down his pants.”\n\n“Fuck, and I thought my boyfriend had cake. That’s a whole damn bakery.”\n\n[i]Stupid fucking bet,[/i] he thought, trying to drag his attention back to the screen. [i]Not any bigger than it ever was. It’s these stupid shorts.[/i]\n\n“I swear he wasn’t that big last week.”\n\n“He wasn’t. Fuck, I have a picture here somewhere…”\n\nBullshit. Fucking bullshit. He lowered his ears against his head, keeping the sound of their voices out. He focused on the exercise, enjoying the burn…and the oddly slick feeling of his ass cheeks grinding together. It was…so weird, so sensual, almost like they really were jiggling and bouncing and –\n\nNo, no, he was just imagining that. If they were that big, if they were as round and massive as it felt like they were – or how the other gym-goers were describing him – then the damn shorts wouldn’t fit. They hadn’t been that big before, and he’d barely gotten the damn shorts on. If they were that big now, the fucking shorts would have been pulled right between his cheeks, at the very least, if they didn’t out right rip.\n\nNo fucking way. He was just the same. They were all just…just perverts or something, staring at him and…and talking about his ass, and –\n\nFucking hell, he was starting to pop a bit of a boner from the attention. The stallion leaned forward, almost grinding his growing bulge against the bike seat. The only thing keeping him from popping a boner that everyone could see was the tight fit of the shorts. Damn things were good for something, at least.\n\nAs Kyle pedaled away, he had to keep his tail up to keep it from getting in his way. Somehow, that almost made it feel like the shorts were showing off his hole. The damn fabric felt like it was getting crushed against his anus, almost fitted to it, and he kept shaking his head as he desperately tried to think of anything else but that.\n\nPedal. That’s all he had to do. Keep on pedaling, keep on pumping his legs, and try not to think about how each push made one cheek grind against the other, or clenched them together over his hole, or –\n\nKyle groaned, ears flatter than ever against the top of his head, but it wasn’t enough to shut out the comments. He was fuming, his head so far forward in an attempt to tune them out until –\n\n“Hey, dude.”\n\n“It’s the fucking shorts, okay?!”\n\nThe gym fell silent. Kyle huffed and puffed as he sat up, staring down at Greg again. The rottweiler’s eyes had gone wide at the Clydesdale’s shout, his mouth hanging open. Kyle just grumbled, dismounting the bike.\n\n“Fucking forget it, man. I’m out.”\n\nHe only paused to wiggle at the door. Fucking thing must have gotten stuck half-open or something; he could barely fit through it now.\n\n \n\n \n\n\n\n \n[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]\n \nSummary: When a pair of shorts makes your ass grow but doesn’t let you realize that it’s growing, the world starts getting a little…weird.\n \nTags: M/solo, Stallion, Clydesdale, Gym, Ass Growth, Booty, Ass Focus, Exercise, Oblivious, Oblivious Growth, Various Species, Exhibitionism, Unwitting Exhibitionism, ",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "
Extra-Juicy Shorts For Damiekinz By Draconicon
Kyle was still attracting attention in the gym parking lot as he got out of his car. The way that all the other men in the lot just locked eyes with his ass as he made his way from the small vehicle to the front door was still so fucking weird. Just staring, the lot of them, their eyes locked on his ass cheeks as they swayed back and forth, back and forth –
Nah, nah, they were probably just staring at the word ‘Juicy’ writ large on the back of them. The Clydesdale didn’t like ‘em, but they were part of the whole bet that he’d taken with some of the guys. Wear the stupid things for a week, and if he could deal with all the stares and teases, he’d get a hundred bucks out of it. Seemed simple, at the time. Now? Now, he wasn’t so sure.
Shaking his head, Kyle grabbed the front door and pulled it open. As he stepped inside, Greg looked up from the papers on the front desk. The rottweiler met his eyes for a moment, blinked, then looked back down.
“Uh…”
“Don’t say a word,” Kyle muttered, walking up and fiddling in his pocket for his ID. “I’m just doing this for a bet.”
“Dude, the fuck…”
“It’s a bet,” he repeated, shaking his head as he fought the tight pocket for his ID. “Fucking – come on, get outta there.”
“Dude.”
“Almost –”
“Dude!”
“What?” the Clydesdale grunted as he finally managed to yank the card free.
“…You seriously don’t know?”
“Dude, if this is about the shorts, just stop. They’re juicy. That’s all. Just lemme in so I can get my gains, man.”
“…And I thought I’d seen it all.”
Shaking his head, the rottweiler scanned the horse’s ID card, passed it back, and waved him through. Kyle felt Greg’s eyes on his ass for the few steps that it took to get to the back of the gym, and he shook his head as the door closed behind him.
Perv, he thought. Guess I can’t blame him. I got a nice ass, but come on. Just let it go.
He waddled a bit between the aisles of lockers. Nothing to change into today; he just had to wear the shorts and get to the exercise equipment. As he made his way through the locker room, he swore that he could feel more than just the eyes of everyone else on him. Hell, it almost felt like –
No way. Nah. Not a jiggle. Not even a hint of a jiggle back there. That’d mean that he was putting on weight or some shit like that. No way was he going to be losing any of the gains that he’d gotten.
And besides. The shorts were still fitting…right?
He paused at one of the many, many mirrors in the locker room and looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, the denim shorts with the bright pink ‘Juicy’ across the back were still just as tight around his ass as ever. Admittedly, he didn’t remember proportions quite like what he was seeing, with a pair of cheeks a bit further around than his hips were, but hell, the shorts were as tight as they had been when he’d put them on. If there was anything bigger back there, he'd see them pulling tighter, sliding between the cheeks or something like that.
Everything was fine.
There was nothing different about him.
Trotting into the gym, he grabbed a towel from the rack by the locker room door. Kyle fought the weird feeling of wobbling cheeks behind him, sure that he was just imagining it, and made his way across the gym floor. Again, he was sure that there were all kinds of eyes on him, but again –
Why all the men?
He didn’t have that big an ass. Okay, no, that wasn’t right. He had an ass, big enough to notice in the mirror, but that was all because of the damn shorts. They made it look like he had more junk in the trunk than he had any right to. If it wasn’t for the shorts, then they’d look just about normal.
Shaking his head, he forced himself to walk a little straighter. Whatever wobbles were going on back there were just part of his imagination. Nothing was any bigger than it ever had been. If it was, his shorts would be close to splitting or something like that. He was fine. He was fine.
He hit the bench press, then the leg press. He used the free weights, and then he grabbed hold of a medicine ball, squatting and bouncing back up again. The weights made his arms burn in short order, and his legs likewise, but his cheeks –
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
Every time he dropped, his cheeks bounced back a bit, and he swore that he could feel them bobbing down, jiggling just enough to tap his hooves on the way down. After his last set, he turned around, looking at himself in the mirror.
Despite his suspicions, nothing had fallen out, or slipped, or otherwise made a show of itself. The shorts were still pulled tight against his ass, tighter than he’d entirely like, and the ‘i’ of ‘Juicy’ was right between his cheeks. Hell, he was all but sure that the lower-case i was right against his asshole, the little dot over it close to being swallowed against –
Nah, nah, I’m imagining shit, Kyle thought, looking away from the mirror and the sight of his ass. Ain’t that big. Just the tight shorts. That’s all.
And for the horse, it really was. It was just his imagination that he felt his ass cheeks rolling, bouncing against each other a bit. That was all, just his imagination. Didn’t matter that the rest of the gym was staring at him with every step he took, or the fact that he’d felt the edge of them touching his hooves somehow. That was just him overthinking things. He needed to stop doing that.
Still shaking his head, the big, burly stallion threw one leg over the seat of the peloton bike and adjusted himself to be as comfortable as he could. He swore that the big seats used to be bigger, but shrugged that off as one more part of his brain playing tricks on him. No point in thinking about that now.
Tapping the screen, he leaned forward and waited for the exercise countdown. As soon as it hit zero, he was off –
“Mmmph…”
And he felt the familiar burn in his thighs almost immediately, as well as a strange but sensual feeling in his ass. The way that his cheeks rolled made him feel like the soft, jiggly things were rubbing right against his pucker, teasing his rim as he pedaled like a maniac. He shook his head, trying to keep his focus on the screen, but his ears flicked as the other gym-goers around him muttered under their breath.
“The hell that stallion been eating? He’s got an ass bigger than a mare.”
“Looks like someone stuffed hams down his pants.”
“Fuck, and I thought my boyfriend had cake. That’s a whole damn bakery.”
Stupid fucking bet, he thought, trying to drag his attention back to the screen. Not any bigger than it ever was. It’s these stupid shorts.
“I swear he wasn’t that big last week.”
“He wasn’t. Fuck, I have a picture here somewhere…”
Bullshit. Fucking bullshit. He lowered his ears against his head, keeping the sound of their voices out. He focused on the exercise, enjoying the burn…and the oddly slick feeling of his ass cheeks grinding together. It was…so weird, so sensual, almost like they really were jiggling and bouncing and –
No, no, he was just imagining that. If they were that big, if they were as round and massive as it felt like they were – or how the other gym-goers were describing him – then the damn shorts wouldn’t fit. They hadn’t been that big before, and he’d barely gotten the damn shorts on. If they were that big now, the fucking shorts would have been pulled right between his cheeks, at the very least, if they didn’t out right rip.
No fucking way. He was just the same. They were all just…just perverts or something, staring at him and…and talking about his ass, and –
Fucking hell, he was starting to pop a bit of a boner from the attention. The stallion leaned forward, almost grinding his growing bulge against the bike seat. The only thing keeping him from popping a boner that everyone could see was the tight fit of the shorts. Damn things were good for something, at least.
As Kyle pedaled away, he had to keep his tail up to keep it from getting in his way. Somehow, that almost made it feel like the shorts were showing off his hole. The damn fabric felt like it was getting crushed against his anus, almost fitted to it, and he kept shaking his head as he desperately tried to think of anything else but that.
Pedal. That’s all he had to do. Keep on pedaling, keep on pumping his legs, and try not to think about how each push made one cheek grind against the other, or clenched them together over his hole, or –
Kyle groaned, ears flatter than ever against the top of his head, but it wasn’t enough to shut out the comments. He was fuming, his head so far forward in an attempt to tune them out until –
“Hey, dude.”
“It’s the fucking shorts, okay?!”
The gym fell silent. Kyle huffed and puffed as he sat up, staring down at Greg again. The rottweiler’s eyes had gone wide at the Clydesdale’s shout, his mouth hanging open. Kyle just grumbled, dismounting the bike.
“Fucking forget it, man. I’m out.”
He only paused to wiggle at the door. Fucking thing must have gotten stuck half-open or something; he could barely fit through it now.
The End
Summary: When a pair of shorts makes your ass grow but doesn’t let you realize that it’s growing, the world starts getting a little…weird.