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Trent's Changes For Rexosaurus By Draconicon

Trent didn't exactly have a great life. The otter had an off-again, on-again job at the gym, working as a physical trainer and swim coach, and he made less money than he needed to get by in life. He never went out, because he couldn't afford it, and he did his best to make his time at the gym count for his social life as well as for his sanity. His interests? They didn't matter, because, again, he couldn't afford them. All he did was try and make it work, from one day to another.

He walked up the stairs of his apartment building, his flip-flops smacking against his feet every time he took a step, and he could feel the wobble of the strap at the front. It was going to give sometime soon, maybe in a week, maybe two. He'd have to go back to ramen for a while to afford a new pair, and he groaned at the idea of sucking on noodles for weeks.

Not much he could do about it, though. Not until he found a better job.

The lock on his door was halfway punched-in, damaged by some burglar that had given up partway through the job. It didn't do anything anymore besides hold the door jammed in place. Trent wondered if the landlord would ever get around to fixing it, but he was starting to think that the weasel upstairs would just let it stay this way until he was actually robbed. Wouldn't be the first time that Mr. Thomas had let that slide.

Giving the door a good shove with his shoulder, the otter managed to get in. The place was the same as it had been when he'd left, at least, with a bunch of empty pizza boxes in the corner, a couple of bowls that were waiting in the sink, and -

"John, what are you doing here?"

The otter leaned against the door, forcing it shut again as he looked down at the grizzly bear in his living room. The big guy barely looked up from the television, and even then only to shrug. Trent shook his head.

"Seriously. I know I said that you could come by, but when I'm not even here?"

"Not like you locked the door."

"I don't have a lock to lock!"

"Heh. Not my fault there."

"Well, you're buying dinner, then."

A scant hope, really. As soon as the word 'buying' left his lips, the grizzly had his game shut off and was getting off of the floor. Too much to expect, he supposed. He got out of the way as his 'friend' grabbed his shoes and started pulling them on.

"Just here to game, huh?"

"Nah. Someone dropped a package off at my place. Had your name on it, though. Guess it was a mistake."

"So, you just brought it over? Why didn't you just -"

"Games, man. Games."

"Uh-huh. So where's the package?"

"Over there, on the table."

The bear was out the door by the time he reached the table, and the solid thunk-crunch of the door getting wrenched into place barely garnered any notice from him as he picked up the small box. It wasn't very heavy, he was surprised to find.

As he opened it, the otter found a small box, containing some sort of disk. He flipped it over, saw it was one of the older computer disks. There wasn't much information on the box, only a note that was taped to the back.

_Trent,

I'm sending you this with the understanding that you'd like a new life. If this is the case, insert the disk into your computer, and follow the instructions that come with it. It may not be the life that you want, but it'll be the life that you need. If you want to continue as you are, throw this away, and there will be no further consequences.

Anonymous._

"Spooky..."

The disk almost went into the trash then and there, but something stopped Trent from just tossing it out. Maybe it was the fact that his laptop was about eight years old and it was only a matter of time before it died completely anyway. Maybe it was the fact that he'd only gotten three gigs in the last two weeks for training. Maybe it was the idea of salty ramen slithering down his throat for weeks in order to pay for a pair of shoes.

Whatever it was, he was on the couch with the disk tray of his laptop humming a few minutes later, the disk scanning before its menu popped up. He allowed it to run, and braced himself for the slew of viruses that must have been imminent.

Instead, a simple box popped up in the center of his screen, reading, Life Changer: Transformee Edition. It faded, followed by a text entry box. The otter leaned in, reading the screen and the small print around it.

"I, the undersigned, do hereby sign over my current reality to the owner of the matched pair to this Life Changer program...allow for shifts in pay scales...allow for re-writes of life...The hell is this thing?"

The otter stared at the screen, thinking that this was some sort of game. It had to be, considering how extensive it was talking about changing the life of the person that signed the program. Was this some sort of new roleplay game that had hit the market that he'd been unaware of? Considering how big the indie scene had gotten lately, he was sure he could have missed something, but this was flat-out weird.

Still...it wasn't like he had anything to lose, and game contracts were hardly binding. He typed in his name, and hit enter.

Immediately the screen went black. For a moment, he thought that the computer had crashed, but it booted back up again instantly, humming louder than it ever had. Worried that it was going to explode, he pressed and held the power button, but the hum kept building up. Static filled the air, and he was on the verge of throwing his computer away when it went quiet again. Blackness...then a flickering green cursor in the top-left corner. It typed.

Hello, Trent. Thank you for trusting me.

"How..."

He shook his head, putting his fingers to the keyboard. He typed back.

_Who are you? What's going on?

Who I am is not important. What is important is that I know you.

How? You some sort of stalker?

Not quite. But you are going to experience changes, my friend. You are going to see things that you never imagined possible. And you are going to learn just how much better a life you can have, with my help.

I'm thinking that's bullshit._

For now, perhaps. But give me time to work. Sleep well, Trent.

"What do yo...you...me..."

The otter's eyes closed before he could finish his sentence, and he slumped down on the couch.

Morning came, and it brought a headache with it. The otter groaned as he pulled himself upright, rubbing at his neck as it creaked and ached.

"Ugh...why the hell did I sleep on the couch?"

He pulled himself upright, looking around. No sign of John, no sign of the usual bill collectors. No sign of anyone but...but...

He looked down at the laptop. He hadn't shut it off last night, but it was still buzzing, awake rather than powered down. And the screen still had that strange shimmer of green at the corner. Some new text? Trent leaned in, against his better judgment.

Better get to work, Trent.

"Work? But -"

His landline, the only phone that he had and the only thing that the landlord paid for, suddenly started buzzing at the side of the couch. The otter reached over, grabbing it before he realized what he was doing, and answered.

"Trent here."

"What are you doing?! You're late for work!"

"What...what do you mean? I have a gig today?"

"What do you mean, a gig? You have a solid set of hours. And you're late! Get down to the gym now!"

The otter pressed a hand to his head, trying to deal with the slight ache behind his eyes. The voice wasn't right either...was it? It was familiar, but...

He shook his head. Something was weird, but he couldn't place it. And he didn't have time to think about it, if he wanted to be on time for work.

"I'll be right down."

"You better!"

The phone went dead, and he got off the couch. The message on the computer screen had changed over the course of the phone call, and now read: Have a good day, Trent.

"..."

He left without saying anything.

The trip to the gym wasn't a long one, and he arrived only ten minutes after getting the call, having had just enough time to throw on his uniform. For some reason, he felt that the clothes were off today, that he should have been wearing something else. Yet, he couldn't figure out why. The latex speedo was all he had, after all, and it wasn't like the flip-flops were any good these days.

He walked into the building...

And had to pause for a moment, looking around. Things felt...weird. He felt that strange sense of something being different from how he remembered it, yet everything looked the same as he had always seen it, and remembered it.

Jorge was still sitting behind the front desk, running through names. The rhino didn't look up, just like always.

Jim was passing out the merchandise, giving people shirts and water bottles and everything else that helped keep the gym floating when they weren't getting new members. Just like always.

A line of customers waiting for trainers were on the side of the room...like...

Wasn't that always the case? He vaguely remembered that there were other trainers that he had to fight for the right to get employed, half the time, but it seemed so impossible right now. Weren't there always a plethora of customers and gym goers that wanted their services? It was like a seller's market.

The otter smiled as he walked over to them, avoiding Jorge and the inevitable shouting, and waved.

"Hey, I'm Trent, and I'll be servicing you today."

The word slipped past his lips before he realized what he'd said. Even as it did, he had no chance to think of why he'd said that rather than 'training', as a large tiger walked up to him. The guy had no business needing a trainer, in the otter's opinion, but he looked like he was eager to get started. Muscular arms, thick neck, tight abs. The guy was a pin-up model for gym advertisement.

But if he wanted to pay, Trent was happy to take his money. He smiled, offering his hand.

"Hey there. My name's Trent."

"Good to see ya. I'm Harvey."

"Good to meet you. How about we go get you changed, and we start figuring out what we can do for you."

"Heh, I already know what I want, but sure."

They walked to the locker rooms, and Trent leaned against the wall as Harvey started stripping down. He felt a little bit strange, again. A tingle, something that was just that little bit off. Wasn't he supposed to give them privacy? Wasn't he supposed to know them? Wasn't he supposed to be dressed like them, rather than in a latex speedo that did nothing to hide...anything?

No, no, this was just a day as usual, he was sure. There wasn't anything strange about this. And besides, he was lucky to have this job, lucky to be able to have steady work, rather than that last job he had where he barely got a paycheck every other month.

What...had that been again?

"So, Trent, you ready to show me a rudderbutt's best moves?"

He blinked, shaking his head. The tiger had stripped down to...well, barely more than him, for that matter. Swim trunks that barely concealed the big guy's bulge, and it was a big one, as well.

"Sorry, I was thinking. Could you repeat that?"

"Heh, I've heard that you guys are great in the water. Slick and slippery, and bouncy as anything. You ready to show me?"

"Heh, you want to be like an otter?"

"Like one? Heh, not quite...But let's start with watching you."

"Sure. Let's get down to the pool."

It was mostly empty, with only an older guy on the far end that was swimming from one side to the other in slow laps. Some elephant that was always around. Trent ignored him, and set Harvey up on the side of the pool.

"Now, besides your breathing, the main thing that I'll be teaching you is timing. How and when to pull your arms around, when to kick, how to move forward with minimum drag. The body is your biggest enemy when you're trying to learn how to swim fast, because it doesn't want to swim, it wants to flail. You'll need to -"

"Yeah, yeah, this isn't the service I'm talking about. Why don't you swim and show me?"

"I...sure. I can do that."

"And can you do it naked?"

"Sure."

Trent blinked, though his body was already moving to accommodate the tiger's request. Swim naked as a demonstration? It was a little weird, a little unorthodox, wasn't it? He could swim just fine normally...

But, why not, really? The pool wasn't that different from the shower, and he was clean. It would just give the tiger a better way of learning.

He threw his speedos off to the side and leaped into the water, feeling the tiger's eyes on him the whole time. It was simple to slide through the water, his body already streamlined for it, and he kicked off of the wall behind him, speeding through it like a torpedo.

The otter swam all the way to the other end, feeling Harvey's eyes on him the whole time. The tiger's stare was like a laser, burning a hole into his butt and then into his crotch when he flipped over. He did his best to ignore it and keep swimming, but there was only so long that worked. Particularly as he started to get a bit of a 'drag' of his own.

He didn't quite blush as his cock slipped out, dragging him down a bit as he got harder and harder, but it was a near thing. He surfaced after the third lap, his dick pressed against the side of the pool, and shook his head a few times.

The tiger, however, was clapping his hands, and it drew his attention back to the client.

"That's one hell of a speed swim, Trent."

"Thanks. Not my best, but -"

"Now, why don't you get back out of the pool?"

Shrugging before he could think about it, the otter pulled himself up and out. He was dripping wet, water falling in little droplets from every bit of fur, and from his rigid dick, as well. Trent had a moment of embarrassment, but just a moment. It faded fast as the tiger looked over him, and he smiled.

Why not, after all? He had a good body. He was paid to service the people here, and as long as he didn't touch them, it was just like being a model for a class of students. He turned from one side to the other, letting the tiger see his muscles, the trim way that he'd built himself up over time.

Why does this feel so new? he wondered. Hadn't he done this before? He felt like he had...and at the same time, felt like he hadn't. Like there was something...missing there.

The strange disconnect left him shaking his head after a few minutes, and he stopped posing. The tiger had his dick out, but that wasn't - was - wasn't new. Most of the clients couldn't quite control themselves. Trent walked over to him, picking up his speedo and putting it back on, though it stretched forward over his hard-on.

"I think that's enough for your first service."

"Awww, but I was hoping for the special service."

"Special..."

He blinked a few times, and the tiger immediately shook his head.

"No, no, you're right. I'd need to pay for that. Maybe tomorrow."

"Maybe..."

"I'll let you get to your next clients."

Trent went through the day in a mix of confusion and strange, inappropriate arousal. Everything had that strange blend of familiar and foreign to it, leaving him departing the gym with a disconnect with reality.

He thought that it was the first time that he'd given clients a massage that led to hard-ons and comparing them, but maybe he was wrong.

He thought that it was the first time that he'd been asked to use the machines naked, but it didn't feel like it was.

He thought that it was the first time that he'd posed for a picture without the speedo on, but there were others around that proved it wasn't.

What's happening here? Why does it feel...weird? Trent thought as he made his way up to the apartment again. His feet were finally drying out from the many swim sessions, and he stopped leaving tracks about halfway up. He reached his apartment, and stopped in mid-reach for the knob.

He didn't know why. The lock was as normal as it ever had been...right? He vaguely remembered shouldering it open the day before, but that was just because...because...

No, there wasn't a reason for it. It had always been fine. Mr. Thomas wasn't a great landlord, but he did keep things running smoothly, if not happily, for the building. The otter shook his head and walked in.

The computer was there, the black and green screen facing him as he walked in. He cocked his head to the side; it had been facing the other way when he left. The text bar started flickering across the screen, and he leaned in to see what it said.

_Welcome home, Trent. How did you like your day at work?

It was just a day. I spent some time posing for people, showing off my body. They were really liking it, for some reason.

Well, it's probably the expansion. They weren't getting all these services at other gyms, so they're happy to see one that offers it.

I guess, but they were wanting to touch me, too, to do more than look.

Oh? And how did that make you feel?

Weird. Kinda wrong. I just wanted to get out of there.

Hmmm....

You sound...who are you, anyway?

It's not important. What is important is that you should take off that speedo and go to bed. I think it's time for a few more changes._

Trent was about to type back when he suddenly stood up again, his speedo falling down his legs and pooling around his ankles. Before the otter knew it, he was walking towards his bed, and his confusion barely had time to form before his eyes were closed and sleep was upon him.

Morning came, and the headache it brought was like a sledgehammer compared to a jeweler's chisel, in terms of magnitude over yesterday's. The otter barely was able to pull himself out of bed, holding his head in both hands and muttering about getting some aspirin...or a pan to knock himself back out.

He eventually pulled himself out of bed, dosed himself with the painkillers, and was about to cook himself some breakfast when the door to the apartment opened.

"Hey, Trent! I'm here to collect your 'rent.'"

Mr. Thomas. Trent slowly turned around. He realized that he was naked as his dick slid along one of the cupboards by the sink, but he didn't blush as he looked at the orca in the doorway. The big guy leaned against the doorframe, wearing a pair of jeans, but no shirt.

For a moment, there was another feeling of disconnects. Like there was a different orca overlaid on the one in front of him. Someone small, thin, someone that had pinched-in eyes and looked sour and angry all the time. Someone with glasses, someone with a cane, someone that barely left their room.

Then it faded, and the muscular, thick-shouldered mammal was back. He smiled.

"You want your rent, huh?"

"Yeah, so bend over the couch and let me at it."

"You got it, sir."

He smiled. It was such a better arrangement than the deal that he'd had with his other landlord. Something about barely being able to pay, and often ending up with services left off of his apartment as a result. Not so with Mr. Thomas. The orca just took it out of his ass every week, and everything kept flowing smoothly.

As soon as the otter was bent over the back of his couch, the orca was on him immediately, black and white flesh pressed against his back and a fat cock between his ass cheeks. Trent wondered how it would feel today - had he ever felt it so thick? It seemed impossible. It seemed almost...dreamlike...thinking of how it had felt before, like he couldn't quite remember.

And then it was inside of him, and it was spreading him out quickly. The otter groaned, his rudder rising up against his back as the orca took him hard, keeping him pressed flat to the back of the couch.

As he was fucked, the computer in front of him started writing, and it seemed almost...amused.

I see that you're already getting a warm-up for your day at work, Trent. Good, good, that's the way you should be going. Just don't get too stretched out on your landlord's cock. Might be earning your room here, but the job's where you earn everything else.

He didn't know what that meant, at first, but then he 'remembered'. How could he forget?

Just have fun, okay? Be well, Trent.

At that moment, he felt he was many things, and 'well' was certainly one of them. The otter groaned as he pushed back on the dick in his ass, welcoming it further and further into his hole as the landlord fucked him hard. He groaned as he reached back, spreading his ass cheeks for the big orca to look down, for the big guy to see how much he was being stretched.

It definitely got the orca to hump him harder and faster, soft balls smacking against his ass, that thick tip working further and further up his hole, getting deeper and deeper with every passing second. The otter moaned under his breath, his eyes rolling back in his head as he 'paid' his rent, wiggling his ass when the orca slowed down, trying to keep him interested.

"Heh, you really are one hell of a slut, Trent. Things have really picked up around here since you moved in."

And so they had...somehow. He remembered that Mr. Thomas wasn't the only one that got paid like this. There were repairmen, there were electricians, and there were others that came in on a regular basis, looking for fun, and getting paid for their work with a good romp with the otter. He remembered a big, burly bear doing just that.

Of course, he couldn't claim all the credit. He remembered...John...

There was another moment of disconnect, where the image of a lazy gamer was at odds with a rather well-endowed, sexy bruin of a man. Then it faded, and the bruin remained.

Heh, John's helped me out a lot, he thought as the fucking went on, that thick cock nothing compared to what the bear's was like. How it rammed into him, how it slammed in and out, filling him and training him to be the eager lover that he was today. The otter arched his back as the orca's cock ground over his prostate, and looked over his shoulder.

"Getting close, big guy?"

"Oh, hell yes."

"Make sure you shoot it deep...can't have it dripping too much on the way to work."

"Oh, don't you worry...I'm shooting it...as deep as I...can!"

Mr. Thomas slammed in, hard, and he felt the thick load from the orca spurting deep inside of him. Muscled chest against his back, heavy hands on his hips, the otter was pinned until the orca was done, and he moaned as his own cock throbbed against the back of the couch.

A couple thrusts later, his landlord was done, pulling out of him with a soft groan. The otter looked back over his shoulder, clenching his hole as tight as he could to keep the seed inside - it made for good lube for later encounters, he knew from 'experience' - and he stood up with a smile. He patted the orca on the shoulder and looked around for his -

He was going to find his clothes, but there was a little throb in the back of his head. Did he...need clothes? Suddenly he wasn't so sure. After all, his job didn't require them, and the gym was only right down the street. It was so busy lately, and him walking there in the nude would only get them more publicity.

Why not?

The otter set out of the apartment, leaving Mr. Thomas to lock up, and walked down the stairs of the building without the slightest care in the world. He passed by a few open doors, giving a nod to a few ladies and a shake of his ass to the mouse electrician that was on the bottom floor. The rodent gave him a grin, and a gesture that promised he'd get a mouse cock up his ass later that day.

He hadn't had mouse cock before. He wondered if they were big producers.

He walked down the street, his feet tapping on the hard concrete, and he already had eyes on him. The world stared as he walked by, and why shouldn't they? He was a good-looking guy, and just because they were staring at his ass didn't mean they weren't admiring it as much as they were eye-fucking it. Trent walked with a sway in his step and his tail curled up over his shoulder, throwing a bit of a strut into his walk as he made his way along.

As soon as he stepped through the front door, Jorge started shouting at him, the rhino pointing towards the waiting clients. Most of them were already bulging and hard. Harvey was there, and he knew that the tiger was just waiting to continue their fun from the day before. Pity that the spiny-dicked tiger had been short of cash for the special session then, but he couldn't just give a pity fuck to anyone that asked. That would bankrupt the gym in a heartbeat.

Harvey would keep for later, however. The otter looked over the group, picking out his guys for the day. The bull would be good for a finisher, and the pair of foxes would be one heck of a lunchtime special, with Harvey to come after them but before the bull. But for the start of the day...

He walked over to the red dragon that was standing in line, patting him on the arm. No sooner had he gotten the dragon's attention than he had a hand on his ass, squeezing it and pulling the cheeks apart. Trent was nothing, however, if not professional.

"Hi there, I'm Trent, and I'll be your gym whore for the day. How can I service you?"

"Heh, we'll start with a blowjob to get me soft, and then hit the weight rooms."

"You got it, big guy."

And without the slightest hesitation - well, maybe a bit, as that ache of a disconnect hit him again - he fell to his knees and started slobbering all over the dragon's dick. It had a heavy musk already, and he knew, somehow, that he would be licking it clean again when he was done with the dragon's workout. There was always that extra service to be done, here at the gym, and he wouldn't let down their reputation.

"Suck it deep, you little whore. I want it all the way down in your throat. Rudderbutts are supposed to be good at this, right?"

"Mmm, I assure you sir...I am."

The scene played out on a computer screen only a few blocks down, where John was leaning back in his chair and watching it happen. He smiled as he watched his friend start gobbling down a dragon cock, the grizzly bear idly fondling his own shaft to the show.

"Heh, always knew he'd look good as a cock gobbler," he said. "And he definitely looks a lot happier, now."

John shook his head as he pulled his hand from his dick, keeping it from going over the edge just yet as the show went on. There were others slowly pulling in around the otter, giving him their dicks to play with. They should have been giving him the chance to work with his client, but he supposed Trent would push them away if it got overwhelming. That much was allowed by the programming that he had set up.

The whole thing had taken six months to arrange, and most of that had been taken up with putting together a plan of action for how he would warp reality for his friend. People didn't remember that things had been different before he started messing with the world, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't have consequences. He was leaping forward as fast as he could afford to, but the program was warning him that the world was starting to bend. He'd have to slow down if he didn't want some sort of whiplash.

After all, the Master PC program was a lovely thing, but it wasn't unlimited, even if people pretended it was. And he wasn't going to be like the idiots who had used it before. No, no, he'd just...enjoy the show.

The End