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“Wasteful" Transformation

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by ShadowyMatt

_ _

Matt never saw it coming. Sitting on the toilet in the bathroom of Carl's apartment, he relaxed as much as he could, still warm in the afterglow of sex. Still, the needs of his body had to be taken care of, brushing his blonde hair back from his sweaty forehead, slightly damp from the sheen of perspiration. Naked, he wriggled his toes, huffing slightly, wishing that he could get his business over with.

Sex with Carl… It just wasn't like being with anyone else, the two of them just seeming to match up well. It wasn't like being with a woman, though they had been with both, yet they didn't seem all that great at holding back from their carnal needs. Matt just counted himself lucky that, even to some small extent, Carl felt the same way about him – enough that he would sleep with him. And the sex was fantastic. What more could he really have wanted out of that?

There was a matter of him getting back to his girlfriend too, even though it was not her that Matt had just had sex with… That was something else that they had to deal with, though he was kind of sure that she would be okay with it. It was not something, however, that Matt was going to have to worry about all that much.

For Carl had an ulterior motive.

They'd been friends for years and, still, he did not hesitate as he smirked and walked straight in on Matt in the bathroom, banging the door open against the opposite wall. The smirk felt right on his face and yet Matt recoiled, grabbing for his clothes as if to cover himself up, though everything, while he was sitting on the toilet, was on show anyway.

“Well, I seem to have caught you in the middle of something," he laughed, though, even to him, it was a harder sound than usual with a sharper edge to it. “But you don't need to move, Matt, I've got this all covered."

“Agh – Carl! What the hell are you doing?"

Carl shifted his weight, wearing a pair of boxer briefs and no more than that, though the difference in their attire was evident already, Matt just with his boxers shoved down so that he could use the toilet. He ruffled his hair lightly, the stickiness of sweat still clinging to his scalp, though, with his dirty blonde hair, such things were not often bothers to him.

No… For he wanted something that Matt had and getting Matt there to have sex with him, making Matt think that it was all his idea, had only been the start of it. He was so easy to manipulate, though there had been something darker and more twisted curling through the pit of his stomach, something that had been lurking there for too long already.

That was exactly why he had gotten the tiny spell, so small that it could have been innocuous, from the merchant in town, the guy that had the funny stall, though he always said he was passing through. He always came back though, always with new spells – and it was not the first spell that Carl had bought from him, all to take care of the “little problems" in his life. If he could make things easier for himself, why shouldn't he, after all? There was no harm in that, none at all.

As Matt shouted at him to get out, Carl's smirk evolved into a grin; the kind of grin that showed too many teeth, the kind of grin that did not look sincere in the slightest. He wasn't going to stop, oh no, and he wasn't about to waste words on Matt, not when he had everything in hand already.

Or, perhaps, in the bowl…

He ripped the rectangle of paper, which was no bigger than his thumb, gasping as the spell burst to life. A rush of energy shot from the paper, just like a gust of wind, swirling and wrapping around Matt, sat there on the toilet, his final resting place.

Matt jolted up, his hands dropping to his sides, fingers curled and claw-like. He huffed and panted heavily, eyes wide, pupils dilated. What the hell was happening to him? Why was his throat all locked up and still, as if it was swollen? He heaved for breath, yet his lungs trembled, aching furiously, straining to take in what was no longer even his to take.

Even then, his body clung to life, the spell infusing him, making his body go hard and rigid, muscles contracted as if in the middle of a spasm. He tried to shake his head, but something was happening, something was changing, his skin turning a darker shade.

“Ugh… Carl… Nnnggghhh…"

He groaned, trying to capture Carl's attention, though he had his attention already in all the wrong ways. Carl smirked at him, rocking back on his heels, a hard-on growing obviously through his boxer briefs, though they just drew attention to the lightly muscular and toned features of his body. He had always been a little bit fitter than Matt, though Matt hadn't minded that, as long as he got to see Carl in his underwear or swimwear, more often in the summer months.

That moment, however, was worse, so much worse, grunting and groaning, though the sounds didn't seem to pass his lips anywhere near as loudly as they should have. They were breathy and soft, using up the last of the air in his lungs, eyes wide and strained, bulging as if his eyelids were no longer enough to cover his actual eyeballs.

“You should never have taken her for yourself, Matt," Carl said, staring him down, his smirk softening, though only so he could talk. “She wasn't for you… And you thought that you could just swoop in and do whatever the hell you wanted with her?"

Matt gargled plaintively, trying to shudder in place. Yet he could not move, not as a strange, unnerving sense of softness pulled through him.

Shit, what's happening to me?

_ _

Matt grunted, feeling so soft, so heavy, as if he was losing the bones of his body, as if his muscles were even weaker and lighter than they had been before. He had never been the fittest of guys, though that had never before been an issue, not until then. Not until he lost it all and things eased, his body feeling tighter and smaller, as if it was pressing in on itself.

Something was squeezing him, his head aching furiously, shrinking, bit by bit, though all enough that the moment slowed down, allowing him to take in every detail. He pressed down, his head cracking as the eerie sensation that he was pulling his head and neck down into his torso encompassed him. There was no heartbeat that he could discern in his chest and the absence of that panicked him even more, grunting as something squidged around him.

No, not something… It was his flesh. All as it darkened, turning brown, his facial features melting and softening, giving him a light, mask-like feature to his face that didn't discern Matt at all. Of course, he couldn't see how he looked, but he didn't need to, not as his legs ached furiously, his toes feeling thick and heavy, as if they weren't actually toes anymore.

And they weren't. Not at all, no, not as Carl got his cock out and masturbated, wrapping his hand around his dick just to pump it up and down, taking great pleasure in the situation. Matt howled inwardly, though he could no longer make his words known, trying to push back, trying to hold onto himself. In all honesty, he didn't know what he was doing, but his mind at the very least had to think of getting through it, one way or the other, though his body felt soft, no longer able to wiggle his toes, the softness of them…fudging into one another.

No… What?

_ _

His mind could not comprehend what was happening, not as he slumped back against the toilet basin, knocking the lid slightly, though there was nothing he could do to stop himself, not as the composition of his body grew softer and more squidgy and squashy still, losing the sense of his fingers as the brown swept across his body. His boxers dug lightly into his new skin, though it didn't look all that much like skin, his buttocks sagging more and more into the toilet bowl.

“Look at you, becoming what you always treated everyone around you as," Carl jeered, no ounce of compassion left in his voice. “You think you're so good, Matt, with the cool girl and all that…but you're just nothing more than a pile of shit."

Matt trembled inwardly, something pressing down on his chest more and more, as if something was clamping around him, stilling his heartbeat. No! He wasn't! Was he? Had he done anything that bad?

He grunted, trying to ask if Carl had liked his girlfriend. Maybe he had missed something, maybe he had been a bad friend, but did that really mean that he was a pile of shit?

No…

_ _

And then he realised, seeing the changing brown of his feet for what they were, Carl's hand working over his cock filling the air of the bathroom with a “fwap" noise as the skin moved over the hardness of his cock. Carl had meant it literally when he had called him a pile of shit – for that was exactly what he was turning into!

He screamed inwardly, fear clawing at him, his stomach, or whatever was left of his orgasm, lurching, worry demanding that he fight and push back, to do anything at all that he could to survive. Yet the mere notion of survival had gone out the door the moment that Carl had cast that spell.

His buttocks sagged, even as his shoulders slumped and grew softer, pulling forward, losing their shape and definition. Yet he was acutely aware of how heavy his arse was, how one cheek was sagging down more than the other, his body soft and melting around the midsection, feeling fat and thick, as if there were rolls of flesh down there.

It was not flesh, however, but something more than that, his horror twisting, trying to beg with his eyes, to plead, for it still looked like he had retained his ability to see perfectly well. And that was, perhaps, the most horrific thing of all, being forced to watch as his body broke apart, his buttock sinking more and more until there was no more substance left to hold it to his body.

Plop!

_ _

It plopped into the toilet, that part of him, though it was very much meant to be there. Shit… Shit belonged in the toilet, even though he was not shit… And yet that was what Carl was turning him into!

Carl laughed, shaking his head.

“Poor, little, Matt," he mocked. “Your body… It's not yours anymore, just what you've always been. Shit, just a shitty body, a shitty life… As soon as you're gone, I'll take your girlfriend all for myself, don't you worry about that. She won't be left alone, no, not at all."

Matt tried to whimper, though the sound locked in his throat and never made it out. His face melted down into what felt like a mound of poop around his shoulders, like there was a mound resting there. Yet he could not even tell where the pile was resting, not as he bowed back, his legs sticking up, though nothing fell off his feet and legs.

It all came from his buttocks, his legs sliding back into them, an oddly rancid smell surrounding him. It was just like excrement, yet it was something that he was aware of without having nostrils anymore, as the holes that had been them closed up, along with his mouth, silencing any cries that he may have tried to gargle out.

“Mmm… You look good like that."

Matt's head, what was left of his face anyway, melted forward, allowing him to look down as another chunk of his buttocks and some of his left leg broke off into the toilet with a wet plop. But that only made him look down at his body as his cock and balls, already soft, melted into one another, losing the wrinkles in his sack and smoothing out his cock. It was lumpy, yes, but no longer even discernible as a cock and balls, losing a part of himself that Matt had been so sure would be there until the day that he died.

Yet that day had come a lot sooner than he could ever have expected, even if he could never have anticipated such a thing coming to pass. He softened, sinking back increasingly, as if he was falling into the toilet… No, that was exactly what was happening. Yet it was not his body, not as the reek of excrement swamped him, closing around him, making him feel like he should have been hacking and gagging, even though there was no capability left in his body to do that.

A chunk of his legs, what may have been the backs of his thighs, softened and peeled away. His skin held a light crackling effect, as if he was really waste matter that had been excreted out, yet horror regaled him, his mind slipping away more and more.

Numb. Soft. Yielding.

He didn't need to know more than that, no. There was nothing else for him, not as cold fear sank into him, dictating the last part of his existence as his hips and lower stomach started breaking away, though there was no longer anything to differentiate between his stomach and his back. He was blobby and thick, his “legs" sticking up like logs of waste, threatening to break, though they did not.

It couldn't be happening to him…and yet it was, panic pulling at him, yet he was locked into his own shitty body while Carl stared him down.

He slipped into the toilet, his arms softened and melding to his sides, everything melting together into a big pile of shit. Matt tried to grunt, but his eyes were on Carl, even as his vision blurred.

“Goodbye, Matt. I'll make sure your ex-girlfriend doesn't miss you."

He watched, looking down at himself, as more chunks of his poop body dropped into the toilet, though some smeared across the seat and dropped off to the side of the toilet bowl too. It was messy and it stank but that was not for Matt to worry about, not when his body was disintegrating.

Plop!

_ _

Plop!

_ _

Two more parts of him fell into the bowl, what could have been a foot dropping off in front of the toilet bowl, splatting on the floor. He couldn't even feel embarrassed anymore, screaming inwardly in horror, even though there was some sick, traitorous part of him that was turned on by watching Carl jerk himself off. Carl had always turned him on, ever since he had had his sexual awakening and become interested in that sort of thing.

Yet he could not hold onto that as Carl jacked off, pre-cum bubbling from the head of his cock. A sense of loss sank, like a lead weight, into the core of his being as he dropped back, low down, his head closer and closer to the toilet bowl. His chest and stomach “smooshed" together as he melted, chunks falling off, sliding down, losing his sense of self. What was his cock and balls, just a lump of excrement by that point, finally fell straight into the toilet with a big, wet splash.

And the rest followed quickly as Carl waved goodbye to him, not caring that Matt was being turned into a pile of shit. In fact, he was happy, his chest rising as he pushed it out, thrilled to have his competition for his girlfriend out of the way. There would never again be someone to stand between him and her, all as he stole back what should have always been rightfully his.

“Goodbye, Matt," he said again, grunting as he shot his load over the floor. “Ah… Can't say it was nice knowing you, but you…mmph…ah…had your uses."

It was hard for him to get the words out as he was spilling his seed, cum dribbling down his hand even as he spurted. But that didn't matter. It was all for him anyway, letting him mock and abuse Matt, though it was the worst form of abuse, honestly, to turn his friend into shit and lose him forever. It was a forced loss, however, watching him melt down, his face smudged and barely above the toilet bowl, just the leg logs left and his melted head.

He saw Matt's mind fade from his eyes, that sense of life and self, intelligence, that death of himself. His eyes bloated out as lumps of shit, darkening to that deep brown, pulling back as the last parts of him fell into the toilet with plop after plop, water splashing up as he hit it.

Or as it hit the water, so to speak. The difference there was that Matt was no longer a “he." Matt was just a pile of shit and most of him was in the toilet, unaware, unfeeling, unknowing. Matt just wasn't anything anymore.

Carl laughed aloud, giddy with glee. Finally! He had done it, he'd gotten rid of Matt! It was with an obvious flourish and sense of relish that he flushed the toilet, getting rid of him without ceremony, though he did screw up his face a little as he eyed up the excrement that had been left on the bathroom floor.

That would have to be cleaned up later, and sanitised, so that not a blob of Matt-shit was left behind. The world ahead of Carl had opened up, just as he had closed the door on his former best friend.

He'd never really needed Matt anyway. Matt had been the one who had needed him.

All in all, it had ended “shittily."