Elastagion (noun): the transmission or spread of spandex fetishism through direct or indirect contact.
Jonny shielded his eyes playfully as he rotated himself underneath the sheets.
“It’s not that bright outside,” Romeo scoffed.
“Yeah but those pale buttocks of yours are blinding.”
Jonny smirked, watching Romeo’s face twist humorously.
“You had a lot of nice things to say last night when you had your face in it,” Romeo retorted.
Jonny pulled himself up. “My hunger made me delusional.”
They both smiled, knowing that they had enjoyed last night’s adventure. They had both met at some giant rave with the usual fare: bouncing lights and scantily glad homosexuals like themselves. Jonny had come with a group of his friends, all twinkish in size and scale.
Roughly halfway through the evening, Jonny felt a pair of eyes latch onto him. He could feel the cinematic presence of the moment as he zeroed in on a sweaty male across the dance floor. Minutes later, Jonny and Romeo were tangled up in a bathroom stall. Hours later, they were tangled up again in Romeo’s apartment.
“What time is it anyway?”
“A little before 11,” Romeo replied, tossing on a black shirt that had been discarded on the floor. Not from the night before, Jonny noted.
“Are you already heading out?”
“Yeah.” Romeo hoisted a pair of black spandex briefs up his legs. Those had to have been from the night before. “Why, are you gonna miss me?”
Jonny pondered this, “I don’t think I’ve decided yet.”
Both of them knew he would. Their night had been fantastic.
“Oh, not to kill the mood but, do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Romeo replied, searching for a pair of pants.
“Do you have any like, STDs or something I should be aware of?”
Romeo gave a puzzled look.
“I know that we already did stuff last night,” Jonny backpedalled. “I just forgot to ask in the heat of it all and like, I’m a little bit of a germaphobic is all.”
Romeo appeared tense at first, but he relaxed after a moment. “Don’t worry, I’m clean.”
Jonny took a breath. His eyes followed Romeo as he continued to busy himself. Jonny could not help but admire the other man’s physique. The broad shoulders, the long torso. There was something so inherently masculine about Romeo that Jonny naturally did not have. If only he would have grown taller than five and a half feet.
“So uh, food’s in the fridge if you want some,” Romeo started. He was playing with his own reflection, teasing his curtain bangs to find the perfect shape. “And clothes are in the closet.”
“You don’t remember?” Romeo turned. “Your outfit was shredded last night.”
“Really?” Jonny could not remember that happening.
“And covered in someone else’s vomit,” Romeo quickly added. Jonny’s face grew green. Even if he could not recall the incident, he was glad the clothes were gone now. “Anyway, I figure I’ll be seeing you around so you can return the clothes then.”
“Unless you want to keep them,” Romeo winked, which Jonny did not know how to interpret. With his outfit assembled and bag in hand, Romeo made his way to the door. “See ya."
And with that, Romeo was gone. Jonny heard the massive footfalls in the hallway slowly disappear, taking his dream boyfriend-turned-one night stand away from him. At least for now, hopefully not forever.
Although he had no other plans for the day, Jonny decided to exit the apartment as fast as he could. First was a quick visit to the bathroom for a check-up. Last night’s eye shadow was somehow holding strong, and his bleached hair still held the boyish spring he loved. The rest of his skinny body appeared untouched, just a little pale, so he continued with his mission. He skipped the kitchen–he assumed it was only protein-related meals in the fridge–and moved to the closet. Jonny did not know what he was expecting, but it certainly was not a giant walk-in.
“Woah…” The space was huge, comically even. It was like something out of a sitcom set where a real city dweller would know that this size of a closet was a myth. But here it was, and by god was it filled with clothes. Jonny's eyes traced each shelf, trying to pick up any clues as to what Romeo did for work. There was some business casual, some business formal, and even a couple of tuxedos. But what really caught Jonny’s eye was the back wall of the closet: a neon-colored shrine to spandex.
Long-sleeved, tees, tanks; briefs, shorts, pants. Full-body lycra and wrestling singlets. Items of clothes even the twink Jonny was not familiar with. And all of it, every single piece, was spandex.
“Dear god.” Jonny approached the display, both in awe and fear of the collection. It was all so much to take in, especially when considering the man it belonged to. Was Romeo just super athletic? Was he a collector of name brands? Was there some kind of fetish around spandex? So many questions, and there was no one to answer them. There was no one here to tell Jonny that he could not investigate further. And there was no one to stop Jonny from plunging his hand into the elastane abyss.
Instantly, his hands were greeted by the cool plastic fabric. It was glossy, fluid, contouring to Jonny’s movements as his hands brushed upon each article. The sleek material was durable yet delicate, almost satin-like to the touch. The nerves in his fingertips tingled with appreciation, sending currents across his body and down to his crotch. Jonny did not recognize that he was popping a semi as he reached for a random article.
“Nike,” Jonny whispered the brand name like it was a prayer. In his hand was a cross between spandex briefs and running shorts. Maybe long enough to not be underwear, and maybe not long enough to prevent eyebrows from being raised. Their white color hinted at innocence, but Jonny could feel something stronger underneath the fabric. He was mesmerized.
Without a second thought, Jonny stripped himself of his tiny briefs and gingerly placed his legs into the holes of the spandex shorts. Each time one of his tiny, delicate hairs came in contact with the spandex a shiver erupted across his skin. There was something more to the shorts, something more to the spandex collection that was polluting Jonny’s fragile ecosystem. But he did not care, for he was too captivated by the sensuous feeling of the shorts grabbing onto his legs, cradling his behind, and finally, grasping his pouch.
As soon as the elastic sealed itself to Jonny’s waist, he realized something was wrong. The shorts, the spandex, were dirty, contaminated even. He did not know by what, but he could sense it was something dangerous. Something Romeo chose not to disclose.
A wave rushed across Jonny’s body, freezing him. Jonny could still process what was happening around him, and luckily he could see himself in a mirror beside the wall of spandex, but he could not move. He desperately tried to call out, to act, to do anything, but instead he was trapped, infected by whatever lay beneath the synthetic fiber.
A second wave dashed across Jonny’s body, this time originating from the shorts. Helplessly, Jonny watched as his body began to lengthen out before him in the mirror. 5’7”, 5’8”. It was like a photoshop tool was being used to alter reality. 5’11”, 6’. His legs were pulled like taffy, with his torso not too far behind. Before he could process that the wave had dissipated, a number popped into his head. 75. 75 inches. As in six feet and three inches. Jonny did not know what was scarier: having ascended nine inches in less than a minute or not knowing where the number 75 had come from.
The third wave was stronger. Instead of a sprint it rumbled like an earthquake, sending shocks from its spandex epicenter. Again, Jonny could do nothing as the changes developed across his body. It began at the midsection, the ripples evolving his musculature to create a well-defined core. Abdominals began to stack upon each other like bricks, creating a wall to support the two pectorals that jutted out on top. Forced to make space, Jonny’s shoulder blades pushed outward, supporting the bulging biceps and triceps that lead down to the thickening sausages that were his fingers.
At the same time, the shocks were descending lower, creating two massive trunks that could truly appreciate the flexibility and grip of the spandex. Once the quadriceps had developed, it was onto the knees, creating solid caps to shelter the luxurious diamond calves beneath them. As a finishing touch, Jonny’s terrified eyes stared on as his dainty feet began to bloat larger and larger. The soles widened out as each toe gained its own share of meat. Jonny’s feet became monstrous; he did not want to know their size. Unfortunately, as if on cue, the number 14 popped into his head.
By the time the third wave fizzled out, Jonny could feel the final push coming. If it could, his body would have shook with trepidation, but it remained petrified. Even his eyes stood still, the window that could have displayed Jonny’s fear completely shut off from the world. There was nothing he could do as he felt the pair of silky, smooth spandex shorts gather up their remaining power.
The fourth wave was the battering ram, slamming through Jonny’s body towards its final target: the head. It crashed through Jonny’s neck, ballooning the skin and Adam’s apple outwards to make room. As soon as it reached his head, it exploded like a nuclear bomb. Jonny was defenseless as his very being evaporated within the expanding blast wave. His memories, his personality all slowly succumbing to the explosion.
Eventually, the wave reached the inner walls of the skull, but its force could not be stopped. The eruption began bulging out Jonny’s facial structure, pushing at every possible angle it could. Starting at the bottom, his once slim jaw was widened outward, creating the manliest of lantern shapes. His nose bloated slightly before his brows were forced forwards. The wave’s reach extended even to Jonny’s hair, sending a natural blonde shade out through his roots and creating a layer of stubble to match.
Finally, the wave reached its climax and quickly began its retreat. The wave retracted into the brain before descending downwards, bringing all that remained of Jonny with it. It travelled past his esophagus, past his stomach, past his intestines before finally landing in his reproductive system. As its final act, the wave forced its way into Jonny’s sack, its size enough to permanently distend. It prepared for its final launch, expanding Jonny’s manhood to ensure an easy departure, and within seconds, expelled itself back into the spandex from which it came.
What remained of the man began to thaw after some time. Within a minute he was able to wiggle his fingers and toes, then eventually swing his arms and legs. Once he was able to move his head, he found a new life laid out before him. A new past and identity that had been left behind in the wave’s wake. His name was Jonathan, he worked as a financial advisor, he liked to play dirty and rough. And most importantly, he now hosted the elastagion.
Still in the spandex shorts, Jonathan paced around the room to grab some additional accessories. Name brand socks, matching shoes, and a couple of necklaces brought the ensemble together. Once assembled, he grabbed his phone and repositioned himself in front of the mirror. The picture was uploaded to his dating apps in seconds, notifications began to arrive soon after.
Jonathan’s new purpose was to infect; the wave had gifted him with the body to do so. He would be able to easily lure prey and help them discover the beauty of spandex. The thought of infecting more made Jonathan happy, and made his manhood grow.
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