The Leather Beholder (Commission)

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#65 of Commissions

Kicked out of his favorite bar thanks to a new crowd, Duke finds himself looking for a new look to better fit in there. Trouble is that he's never been confident in how his body looks. Luckily for him, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

A commission for bsmithiii. I don't normally write transformation stuff but I had free reins with this so tried to do something. You can find stuff like this and more over on my Patreon and/or Subscribestar. Enjoy!


The chime of the shop bell above reverberated against Duke's skull as the Doberman walked past the barred front door. Hours of searching, with map apps leading him down three different alleyways in a bad neighborhood, had finally paid off. At least, he hoped it was given the lack of a sign.

At a glance, it looked like the correct place. Clothes of various fashions hung from hangers along the walls or on stands throughout the store. Accessories too, from formal ties to leather collars. He gulped at the sight of the latter, reminding him of those damned bikers that kicked him out of his favorite bar the prior week. They just waltzed in like they owned the place, flashing their leathers as battle-worn armor with patches of affiliations like modern heraldry.

His fists clenched at the memory. His favorite bar had turned into a biker pub. Every night the air thickened with clouds of smoke, mixed with the scent of leather as chains jostled. At first, the Doberman didn't mind. So long as he could step inside to satisfy his beer belly, he didn't care who went inside. Even the hushed jeers and pointed fingers didn't bother him. He was used to being mocked. Every night more bikers came, until they overwhelmed the bar and kicked him out, claiming it for themselves.

Unclenching his hands, Duke shook his head out and sighed. This was a mistake and another humiliation waiting to happen. "What exactly is your plan here, Duke?" he asked himself under his breath, "Pretend to be a biker so you can get drunk? Maybe you should actually go to AA."

"Can I help you with something?" A voice asked just as Duke turned around to leave. A gray rabbit stood behind a counter next to the front door. The Doberman assumed he was a cashier because of the cash register in front of him, as his uniform consisted of a leather harness and thong. Another quick scan around the room revealed that the shop did border more on fetish gear than he initially thought and that the rabbit was the only other person inside.

"Me?" he asked, just to be sure. The rabbit nodded, "Oh, no," Duke shook his head, "I was just leaving. I heard about this place from a friend but I'm not sure it could help."

"Why's that?" The rabbit leaned against the counter, "I could probably help if I knew what you were looking for."

"I'm not exactly sure about that myself," he lied, scratching his head on his way over, "My friend just talked about a clothing store where they could find anything. I guess if you were talking about leather, you'd be right."

The bunny's eyes lit up on the leather comment, quickly circling the room before he smiled. "So you're looking for leather, huh?"

Duke blinked. "I mean, I guess?" That's what the bikers wore, that's how he'd get in, "But I'm not sure if I want what you're wearing."

The rabbit laughed, "I must be standing out, yeah. If you're not sure, why don't you just look around before you go? I'll bet you'll find something that catches your eye. The Beholder has a way of knowing what the customer wants."

"The Beholder?" Duke repeated, "That the name of the store? I didn't see a sign," he pointed to the front door for emphasis.

The rabbit nodded, "Something like that. No point in signs. The people who need to be here arrive when they do."

"Ok," Duke said slowly as he backed off. The rabbit's eyes weren't red so he likely wasn't on drugs. Either the rabbit was crazy, or his manager had him push a weird sales pitch.

So he wandered. Casually, with his hands stuffed into hoodie jacket pockets and failing to whistle. First, he circled the walls, noting the assortment of leather gear, then through the store. Flight jackets, racer jackets, trench coats, all leather of varying shades of black, brown, and occasionally red. Outfits with metal studs caught his attention, reminding Duke of what the bikers at his bar wore. They strode around in them like they were in armor, with spikes and studs ready to pulverize anyone they came across.

He stopped at a leather vest with three pointed studs on each shoulder. Running his finger over them told Duke they weren't sharp enough to pierce him. At a glance, it seemed too small, and picking up the hanger didn't reveal any size listing. It did feel great to touch, enough that he wondered how it'd feel on his body.

"Do you have this in my size?" Duke pointed to the vest in his hand as he turned to the rabbit.

The rabbit squinted, "Hmm...we might. Why don't you head to the changing room first while I check the back? It's around the corner."

The changing room was bigger than he expected. Being a wide dog, the few times Duke did go shopping involved him feeling cramped inside the booths that sported mirrors. This dressing room was just one room, with three mirrors dotting along a wall to get different angles. For a moment he just looked at his gut, grabbing it with a clench followed by a deep sigh at the memories of jeering. How much of it was real or in his head was a mystery to Duke, something he kept neglecting to tell his therapist for reasons he didn't understand.

His moment of contemplation took long enough to realize the rabbit was taking his time. "Hello?" Duke poked his head out the door, finding no sign of the leather-clad bunny. With only the small vest on hand the Doberman shrugged and cast off his hoodie, revealing a T-shirt he'd stretched out over the years.

"Ok, let's just see how this looks." Not that he thought it'd look good. Duke kept making excuses as he put one arm through the opening of the vest. Surprisingly, he had no difficulty getting his second arm in. He looked down, surprised to find that the vest actually fit without suffocating him.

It took a second later to see his gut had vanished. Wide eyes of surprise stared back at him as he looked into the mirror. Then back to the gut, then the mirror again. His gut had vanished. His hands clamored over the missing portion of his body, revealing themselves to be thinner. So much excess fat had vanished without a trace. "The fuck?" he blinked, pinching and pulling at his skin and fur to find any looseness. There weren't even flaps of extra skin. It was as if he never went overweight.

He pulled up his shirt, now needing both hands to deal with all the stretched fabric. He didn't sport any noticeable abs, but the flatness of his stomach still tickled him. "No way..." he grabbed the cool leather hugging his chest. Could it be the cause of his shift? Would it revert if he took it off? Fear held his hands close, they shivered as he struggled to pry it off. He needed to know if the vest was key.

It wasn't. With the vest gone his fat form was still missing, leaving him thin. Not dangerously twig thin, but thin enough that he looked somewhere between a twink and a hunk. Not a twunk, more muscle was needed for that.

He leaped at a knock on the door. "Hey, so I couldn't find anything bigger for that vest in the back. Is it gonna be an issue?"

"N-Nope!" Duke hugged himself tight, feeling no folds of fat squeezing his arms, "Nope, not an issue at all."

"Oh, great!" The rabbit's ears perked just above the door, "Well, in any case, I was able to find some things that I figured would look great with your vest. Feel free to try them on." Barring the idea that the new things shouldn't fit him and couldn't possibly be in his budget, Duke checked the bunny's offerings once left alone. He found a mesh shirt, leather chaps, and a studded leather collar, all black and curiously not in his previous size.

Feeling compelled to wear them, Duke's chest shivered in delight at the tight embrace of the mesh fabric. The chaps were difficult to put on at first, finding it strange they came over his jeans but he found a way. The collar, however, gave him a strange reaction. His breath sped up as he angled it over his neck. Feeling his pants tighten, locking the collar around his neck made Duke feel calm. Like a warm balm enveloped his body.

A leatherboy stared back at him. Just like those at his bar. Duke stood straight, something he found himself struggling with thanks to years of hunching. Chest out, he smiled and found himself liking the look back. This wasn't some painful dream, this was real. A second after he walked out of the dressing room the Doberman feared his weight would shift back only to be relieved it didn't. Whatever happened there seemed to stick.

The rabbit whistled, "Well, I'd say those fit you well."

"Saying that 'cause it's your job?" Duke remarked with newfound confidence.

The cashier shook his head halfway, stopping to think, "Well, you're half-right. But am I wrong?"

"No, no you're not," Duke tried digging for his wallet, having caught itself between his new chaps, "Just hold on a moment. How much will this all cost?"

"Oh, we can open a tab."

"A tab?" Duke raised his brow, "No offense, but I think I got everything I wanted."

"Sure, but I figure you can't pay this all off now." Leaning in, the rabbit rested on his hands and added, "Besides, it might be more fun to have someone else pick it up. If you want, that is."

An awkward laugh escaped the dog's lips. "Nope, no I'm good." He felt blood rush to his face as though speaking about a crush. Scratching his head, Duke paid the rabbit a little more attention and left for his next destination, the pub.

As seedy looking as ever, the only thing that changed about his bar was the large black panther in a leather harness leaning next to the door. He'd stopped Duke from coming in enough times in the past, but now the Doberman walked past the bouncer with his head held high. He scarcely noticed the feline nod to him as he passed. He felt a rush all the same.

A cloud of cigar smoke covered the ceiling. It combined with the heavy scent of leather and sweat from the bikers that filled the pup. Some wore their jackets inside, others wore less to reveal their bodies without shame. Duke gulped, tasting a batch of smoke as he compared all the different bodies clad in black. From shamelessly free beer gut bellies clad in harnesses to twinkish mesh shirts and assless chaps with tight jeans.

Duke struggled to breathe and didn't blame the smoke.

The bartender hadn't changed at least. Seeing the elephant cleaning a glass mug, he hastily pushed past a pool table, bumping into someone. "Fucking hell," the biker grunted, his billiard ball went wide and clacked against a solid black eight, sending it to the corner pocket. Some players laughed, but most were silent as attention turned to Duke.

"S-Sorry I-" What words he had were suffocated by a cloud of smoke. A walrus with a big bushy mustache and tusks carved with pagan symbols stared down at him. The skull on his leather vest carried tusks of the same variety, with chains wrapped between them. Duke noticed that first before the powerful pecs bulging underneath the wide walrus's clothing.

What anger came with the biker's eyes seeped away at a glance of Duke. With a cigar halfway burned, he rolled it in his lips as he straightened himself. "Don't think I've seen you before. You new?"

Acrid smoke filled his throat as Duke gulped. He nodded, lips refusing to budge. His heartbeat rattled like a drum before the leather-clad walrus, unsure if terror or something else.

"Yeah, must be. You ain't patched, and you look like a squid."

"Squid?" Duke asked, biting his lip at the walrus's chuckle.

"Yeah, squid." Thick knuckles braced his chest, "What's your name, squid?"

"D-Duke, sir."

The walrus raised his brow, "Sir?" He brushed his chin, smiling with a nod before callused fingers ran up Duke's chest, stopping at the collar, "Hmm, this looks a little too tight on you. May I?" Duke freely gave his neck before he realized it, pants growing tighter as the walrus readjusted his collar, "I know some people like to wear these tight, but I don't want a handsome fella like you to suffocate."

Duke blinked. He'd never been called handsome before. Face flushing red, he didn't struggle as the biker hooked a finger through the D-ring of his collar, "How about I buy you a drink?"

"I, uh, wouldn't say no," Duke said, "But I should probably know who's buying me a drink."

"Andy, said the walrus, "But between you and me, I like Sir a whole lot more."

***

Drew's ears rose at the chime of his shop's front door. Putting on his customer smile, he turned to see a large walrus man standing in the frame, eyes peeled and confused at what displays he must be seeing. "Lot less leather than I expected."

The rabbit's smile became genuine, "At Beholder, beauty is in your eye. Customers tend to see what they want. Speaking of which, how can I help you today, sir?"

The walrus smiled at the honorific, "Well, my bitch here told me about this place, and I wanted to get something special for them before we hit the road." He pulled something from the walls, the exact nature revealing itself once it hit the front counter. A leash, one of thick black leather, "I heard he might have a tab too. Figure I'd pick that up, make him owe me."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be happy to owe you, sir." Drew scanned the belt, "Is there anything else you'd like to purchase?"

The walrus shook his head, "Nah, I'm good. Can't keep him waiting on the bitchseat forever."