Jockbroski34 - Untitled - Tumblr Blog

Trackies on, shirt off, cap backwards and the domination begins

kyle

Fuuuuck dude. You made me so aggro. Like I feel so fuckin alpha bruh. Like fire in my veins dude. All this muscle, all this confidence, all this cock huhu. Dude I thought you’d just give me a boost but now all I wanna do is show off and fuck. Like you really got rid of that pathetic pussy I was before. Limp dicked nervous little fuck. But man… maybe you took it too far…? Like I feel like, like such a dumb douchebag…. A hot dumb jacked douchebag. A cocky dumb meathead… Mmm yeah bruh. Look at this body flex. I love it. I mean so what if I am a dumb pretty muscle bro. Check me out. I deserve respect, to fuck and be fucked. So, what you looking at bro? Like what you see? What you made me into? Cause I don’t know if you can handle this cock or hot hard ass. But let’s find out.

Lucky

Back at it again with @mrrharper

Colt was the greatest roommate I could have ever asked for, and I am surprised that nobody had snatched him before I did. I was so lucky to have found him.

I had been searching for a dude pretty similar to myself to room with: sameish age, comparable activities, would not have a problem with me bringing home a girl from the club every once and a while. Colt was all that and more. He was responsible and took his share of chores, was active and cared about sports (although he cheered for the wrong teams), and he was great at giving me my space but was also always willing to hang. He even gifted me with a playlist for the gym! Colt was just so thoughtful.

Colt was very sympathetic about my current situation, understanding that it would take a little bit before I found a stable job. He did not mind however, reminding me that as long as I had the money to pay for rent, he did not care what I did. This meant my weeks were fairly open to begin with, mostly spent applying and interviewing for jobs with my history degree. I visited the gym twice or three times a week for some light cardio, using Colt’s playlist to keep me motivated. His choices in music were perfect; I would finish my workouts before I even realized it.

As time went on, Colt and I got to spend more time with each other, learning about our individual hobbies and interests. We shared one of these moments while watching a game together between my favorite team, the New England Patriots, and his, the Philadelphia Eagles. It was a brutal match, with both of us cheering rampantly for our different picks. Colt’s team had been having a rough season already, so it was not surprising when the Patriots pulled ahead in the end. I was cheering and hollering, engrossed in my team’s victory.

“Isn’t it difficult to always be supporting the best team, Mike?” Colt suddenly asked.

I frowned, “What do you mean?”

“It’s so much pressure to always be on top. There’s more fun in supporting an underdog like the Eagles.” 

I considered his point, having been a lifelong Patriots fan. It made sense–always winning took some of the adrenaline away while at the same time instituting stress. If the Patriots lost, it would have been devastating. But even though the Eagles lost, Colt pointed out he still had hope, and that either result would have still made him feel good. I nodded after Colt asked if I wanted to feel good like him. There was no harm in becoming an Eagles fan for a season, it would give me something different. Plus, it would be exciting for Colt and I to be on the same team

It was then I discovered another great part of living with Colt was being exposed to a unique perspective. At first, I was watching twice as many games, supporting both the Patriots and the Eagles. But I quickly found my interest leaning towards the latter, better understand Colt's theory about hope. Losing never felt so good! By the end of the season, I had not only attended an Eagle’s game with Colt, but had missed the Patriots winning the Super Bowl entirely!

Colt’s perspective influenced me in other routes as well. Still without a job, he suggested that I could have been taking advantage of my free time at the gym. I had not objected to this thought, considering it as a fair idea. Slowly, I found myself working out more often, eventually entering and leaving the gym every single day. Colt commented that I must have loved it; working out and flexing my muscles. It also meant I had more time to listen to his awesome playlist.

At some point, the effect of my frequent gym visits became recognizable. There were the obvious benefits–I had always been athletic but now my muscles were becoming conditioned, firm and supple and model-worthy. But a cloud of funk had begun to surround my everyday life, the reek of sweat and body odor hovering constantly. I had always been good about wearing deodorant, but at some point the habit had abruptly vanished. Colt did not seem bothered by my musk however, so neither was I. 

Laundry was another victim of my altering lifestyle. Clean clothes became a thing of the past as my forgetful mind struggled to organize. My room became covered in my discarded clothing, some of which I eventually threw out. Not because they smelled horrendous, but because they were simply too hot. Starchy and confining, I soon found myself buying shorter shorts, more revealing tees, things the typical jock would wear. Colt even commented on it.

“You’re becoming quite the bro, Mike,” he had joked.

“They’re just so much more comfortable.” I had been in a stringer with some running shorts. “And I’m always so flushed now too.”

“It’s a new stage of life, you’re probably just anxious,” Colt offered. "You should just walk around in your boxers, that would help cool you down.”

“You think so?”

The next day, I found myself grateful for Colt’s suggestion. Strutting around the apartment in just my boxers massively improved my temperature regulation. There were other benefits too, like being able to visualize my flexes after every insane pump. It also allowed me easier access to my package, which I had recently noted had begun to feel heavier. Colt had caught me standing in the hallway fondling my junk once, snapping me out of a haze. He did not mind my behavior however, and I did not worry about him perving on me. I was not homophobic or anything, but I would have never roomed with a gay guy. I knew dudes well enough to know that sort of thing.

This was evident by the new guys I was hanging out with at the gym. A few of the jockish types had approached me after a workout, and with Colt’s encouragement, I had begun to hang out with them more frequently. Big Dog, Chief, The Big Brobowski; if I was not spending time with Colt I was at the gym, at the bars, or at the clubs with them. When I told Colt about this, he stated it was about time I had a nickname to go along with.

“Maverick,” he nodded. “Yeah, it fits you perfectly.”

I smiled dumbly, struggling to remember what my former name had been.

“The bros have had quite the impact on you,” Colt said. “You’re bigger, smellier, hairier.”

I chuckled, scratching at the fuzz on my exposed chest.

“Dumber too,” Colt added. “All that knowledge has shifted to sports, fitness, and nutrition. I think it's about time you stopped looking for a job with that useless degree. Apply to be a trainer at your gym.”

I cocked my head, the wheels turning slowly in my head as I considered this idea.

“Yeah...sure bro,” I eventually replied. And I followed up with it. To my surprise, the owner of the gym offered me a position right on the spot, saying I could start immediately after the weekend. The first thing I did was rush home to Colt, excited to tell him the news. I did not expect to see him on the couch in one of my dirty workout tees and a pair of silk shorts, pawing himself cockily.

Colt must have seen the shocked look on my face. “What, Maverick? Have you not done this with your bros yet?”

“Uh…done what?” I asked slowly.

“Helped a bro out,” Colt scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

I followed his command, approaching slowly. I was still a bit sweaty from my viscous victory workout after the interview, Colt’s playlist had been blasting my eardrums the entire time.

“Gym bros like you do this all the time, Maverick” Colt persuaded, ushering for me to get on top of him. I crawled forward, my eyes tracing each ab that he revealed from under his shirt. “They look tasty, don’t they?”

With Colt's guidance, I felt myself lower down to run my tongue along my roommate's smooth, tight chest.

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

Our eyes met. I did not have to vocally confirm.

“Dumb jocks like you do this all the time,” Colt reaffirmed. “They love to do this all the time.”

I felt my cock gently inflate, throbbing inside my tight shorts. Colt reached his left hand to calmly, but assertively cup my balls, eliciting a small moan from me as he pushed back my shorts. He then began to remove his own, aligning my dick and rubbing it against his hole. My precum was soon slicking him up. 

“I am the greatest roommate you could have ever asked for, and you are surprised that nobody had snatched me before you did.” Colt instructed as I entered him. “You were so lucky to have found me.”

Be of Service

Round of applause to @mrrharper

I dumped my uniform and bag into the locker, my partner John doing likewise beside me. After a graveyard shift, the two of us had decided to hit the gym bright and early in the morning before sleeping through our day off. John and I had been partners since we had first joined the police force. As officers, we had done a lot together; rode together, drank together, laughed together. One time we were even in a foursome together with two chicks we had picked up at a bar.

Now in our early thirties though, we had begun to take life a little more seriously. Start choosing wisely, acting responsibly. Working out had been my idea, and after six months it had already shown some results. Both of us were average height and had gained some pudge over the years, but now we both had notable definition. I could not help but flex a little in the mirror, impressed by the beginnings of my triceps.

“Looking fire, broski!”

My eyes shifted over to one of the three football jocks who sauntered into the locker room. I was immediately annoyed by the trio of obnoxious meatheads, and I could tell John was as well.

“Have you been coming here for long?” the first asked. “We haven’t seen you around.”

“We come when we can,” I replied. “Working for the law gives us busy schedules.”

“Woah…so are you guys like, officers or something?” the second guffawed.

“Officers, yeah.” John was irked.

“Huhuhuh…cool bruh!” the third jock inserted. “You two should totally join us!”

Before we could respond, the first jock piped back in, “Yeah dudes! We could have a great sesh between the five of us. Brock here is stellar at arms, and Duke is the best at working those legs and glutes.”

“Jalen’s a pro with chest,” the second jock, Brock, finished. “And you two officer bros, what are you good at?”

I grunted, “Knowing how to refuse an offer.”

It took Brock and Duke, the third jock, a second to process what I had implied, their mental capacities obviously slower than the average male. Jalen was a little faster however, putting on a dumb smile. 

“Your loss bros, but totally understandable,” he shrugged. “In case it wasn’t obvious, we’re on the football team at the local college, so let us know if you need any workout tips or exercises.”

I barely nodded my head, offering a blunt, “Ok, thanks.” John and I then made our way past the bulky jocks, the three of them each larger than either of us. I took a breath as soon as we exited their collective earshot.

“Three cocky dicks,” I snorted. “No better way to start the morning.”

John mockingly agreed. Our workout was brutal, our bodies already tired due to our unusual sleep schedule. This, along with the occasional stare from one of the jocks, only encouraged us to work harder. Nothing was spared from our exercises, we utilized machines that hit multiple areas at once. Arms and chest, legs and back, abs and quads. At the end, we hit the treadmills for a thirty minute run, sneering back at the trio while they stood in front of one of the many mirrors and flexed their pumped arms, taking pictures for social media.

Eventually, we were back in the locker room cleaning up, both expecting the jocks to ambush us again. Fortunately, the lumbering footballers never arrived. John had joked they were probably still drooling over their own muscles in the mirror, and I had replied better they were drooling on themselves then us. I did not want their narcissistic, dim-witted reek all over me, and neither did my partner. We both opted to skip showers; we could take them back at our respective apartments before crashing into our own, cool beds.

As we left the locker rooms and headed towards the exit, we were immediately swarmed by our unwanted acquaintances. 

“You know, bros,” Jalen swung a beefy, sweaty arm around both of us. Brock paced behind me, and Duke followed suit with John. “We never caught your names? We’d like to thank you for your service, officers, whatever it is you do."

His tone was a little menacing, but I knew he would not try to pull something in broad daylight. “Darren,” I responded. “and John.”

Jalen grinned, moving his arms to pat the back of our necks. I felt a little sting at his touch, almost like an electric shock.

“Now c’mon bros, how about you come join us at the frat house where we can properly use your services.”

John frowned, and I retorted with, “I think you boys have had your fun.”

Brock chuckled, “Fun’s not even started broski.”

Duke’s response was even deeper and dumber, “Huhuhuh...dudes aren’t even ready.”

We had finally made it outside, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. I noticed our squad cars parked up front, we would be out of this mess in just a moment.

“Alright, this is our stop,” I exclaimed, making sure the three got my message. Suddenly, a piercing jolt was sent across my spine, traveling all the way from my brain to my toes.

“Our stop is actually over there, officers.” Jalen pointed to the two trucks past their cruisers. “Darren, you can come with me and Brock, Duke here is gonna take John.”

Robotically, my body followed Jalen’s command, tracing behind the first two jocks to their obnoxiously big vehicle. Although I could not turn my head, I could tell John’s body was following the orders as well.

“Disengage Operation Mode, security bypass JALEN, sleep.”

— —

“Engage 25% Operation Mode, security bypass JALEN, wake.”

My eyes fluttered open. I was standing in an empty room, not rigid but not slouching either. To my right, I could sense my partner’s presence, familiar with John’s aura. We were still in our dirty gym gear, although our body odor was nothing compared to the three jocks standing proudly before us. Through the windows behind them, I assumed it to still be some time in the morning, but that was the only piece of the situation that I could try to fathom.

“Bet you’ve never had a mind control chip implanted, have you, officers?”

I tried to respond with something snarky, but my mouth wouldn’t let me.

“We were just trying to be friendly, help some bros out, but you two insulted our kindness.” Jalen stepped a little closer, even from a distance I could feel his large, masculine presence. “Maybe next time you won’t mess with the son of a government-funded millionaire.”

Jalen pointed his fingers at his two goons. Brock and Duke each stepped forward, crossing the distance between them and John and I. They removed our shirts, and although I could see or move my feet, I realized my shoes had already been taken too.

“My dad gifted me some leftover mind-control chips he had built for the military, said I could use them if I ever needed them. Something along the lines of "accessing the nervous system" and "reprogramming capabilities". Didn't matter to me bros, it was all nerd-speak. I just needed the commands.”

If I could have, I would have gulped. Jalen stepped closer as the other jocks discarded our clothes.

“MC 1001, 50% Operation Mode.”

Suddenly, the feeling was restored throughout my body. I did not bother with attempting an escape, recognizing my body was still glued to the floor. When I turned to my partner, I realized John had not been released.

“What’s the plan, Jalen?” I spat.

“You were so rude to us back at our gym when you are employed to be of service” Jalen smirked. "The bros and I thought we should remind you of your duty, and what better way then by dispatching you as our new security guards who obey our every wish and command?”

“So what, you’re going to 'reprogram' us?”

“How about you see for yourself?” Jalen then turned to John. “MC 1002, engage Modification Mode, security bypass JALEN.”

“MC 1002, Modification Mode engaged, security bypass confirmed." It may have been John’s mouth that had opened, but I knew it was not him who was speaking.

“Brock,” Jalen invited. “How about you take the first swing?”

Brock laughed and scratched at his crotch, “Get him jacked bro.”

Jalen turned to Duke, “Anything specific you’d like to add?”

To my surprise, Duke did have something to add–a lot to add: “Make them former rugby players bro, cause rugby is for idiots and rugby players should serve football jocks, the real alphas.”

Jalen raised his eyebrows, a bit surprised too. “Works for me. MC 1002, enter in keywords ‘Rugby’ and ‘Jock’ to the personality frame and set both at 88. Raise ‘Muscle’ by 40 base points and remove any post-secondary education from the mainframe.”

Watching the football neanderthal list off a series of programming commands put our situation into a new perspective. My eyes grew with fear as the changes installed into John’s body. It was like watching a horrible balloon inflation, his body contorting as it expanded. John’s once meager chest bloated into two massive pecs supported by two trunks of legs. His arms cartoonishly bulged until they were practically circular, his pits filling with hair as a tattoo wrapped itself around his right bicep. His face thickened too, adopting a square shape along with a wider nose and thicker stubble.

“Keywords ‘Rugby’ and ‘Jock’ successfully installed.” John’s voice was now deeper, gruffer. “‘Muscle’ upgraded, post-secondary education deleted.”

Jalen nodded, “MC 1002, add 10 base points to his age as well.”

“Adding 10 base points to ‘Age’.” To my shock, I helplessly observed my partner grow older beside me. The skin around his body tightened, pulling in to reveal the more delicate details of his veins and tendons. Wrinkles began to develop across his body along with other age marks. It was painful to watch his hairline slowly pull back, his scalp thinning out into a well-maintained crew cut.

“Here’s the fun part,” Jalen mocked, noting my face of terror. "Lower cognitive abilities by 20 base points and independent identity by 30 base points. Install the ‘Security’ package to the mainframe and boost the ‘Obedience’ category to max potential."

Although there were no visible alterations, I could have sworn the light went out behind my partner’s eyes. “All actions executed, please confirm modifications to MC 1002.”

Jalen smirked, making direct eye contact with me. “Confirm MC 1002, disengage Modification Mode, reengage total Operation Mode.”

To my delight, I watched as John’s body reanimated completely, indicating he now had full control over his body. But any hope I had was immediately crushed as soon as he stood at command, dumbly  grinning with his arms crossed over his chest.

“How can I be of service, sir?” John asked Jalen.

“Go do a full sweep of the yard of something, bro.” Jalen tossed John a pair of sunglasses, not even bothering to hand him any other clothes. Apparently his now too-tight joggers were enough. “Oh, and by the way, you go by Hammer now.”

“Hammer…” John processed. “Yes sir, thank you sir.”

I watched as my former partner stomped out of the room, out of our reality.

“Why ‘Hammer’, bro?” Brock piped in from behind me.

“‘Cause he’ll be laying down the law of the land.” Jalen then shifted back to me. “Our other friend here will be ‘Brute’.”

I heard two empty-headed laughs from the two empty-headed jocks behind me.

“He’ll be nothing more than a wall of meat,” Jalen taunted. Before I could insult him back, he instantly shut me up. “MC 1001, engage Modification Mode, security bypass JALEN.”

“MC 1001, Modification Mode engaged, security bypass confirmed." My mouth was out of my control. I tried to fight back, reanimate myself by any means possible.

“Alright Duke, it’s your turn.”

“Same thing as last time, bruh.”

Disappointed, Jalen shifted back to Brock, “Got something else?”

I prayed Brock would not say anything too damaging “Make him huge dude,” he requested, putting me at ease before following up with: “And make him like a butler too.”

Jalen laughed, and if I could have I would have cried.

“Oh MC 1001,” Jalen merrily instructed. “Copy MC 1002’s personality frame and mainframe, and enhance body and clothes proportions to 1.5. ”

“Modifications downloading,” I stated, a sudden sinking emerging in my stomach. In moments, I sprung upwards towards the ceiling, my height soaring above the jocks to an astonishing six and a half feet. Muscles exploded out of my body, bloating me thick with bulk. My arms were plump and my hands meaty. Two juicy pecs larger than my head were now carried by my absolute barrel of a chest, stretched out and taut. My legs were colossal, so dense that I would permanently be forced to take wide, swaggering steps. Even my neck thickened, supporting my newly masculinized skull.

“Copy and paste procedure successful.” My voice was husky, low, deep and booming. “Body and clothes proportions at 1.5.”

“Look at his socks, bro,” I heard Brock snigger behind me. “Whattya think those stompers are?”

“Huhuhuh…I don’t know dude…maybe Size 15?”

“Looks like I missed something,” Jalen appeared disappointed. “MC 1001, reduce reproductive size to 3.”

“Redacting 4 base points from ‘Reproduction’.” I screamed, pleading for this to stop. But no words exited my mouth. Instead, I remained painfully silent as I felt my cock and balls shrivel down within my shorts. 

“Helps with the obedience factor” Jalen stated. “Now, let's lower cognitive abilities by 40 base points and independent identity to 15 base points. Install the ‘Security’ package to the mainframe, boost the ‘Obedience’ category to max potential, and add in keywords ‘Respect’, ‘Humility’, and ‘Subservience’."

I would not give up, I would not cave in. “Please confirm modifications to MC 1002?”

Jalen was finished with his game. “Confirm modifications, disengage Modification Mode, reengage total Operation Mode.”

After a moment, I blinked. My head felt fuzzy, empty, as if some great weight of responsibility had been removed. I dumbly chuckled to myself.

"Feeling good there, bro?” Jalen smiled. “Excited to serve us jocks?"

"Uhhhh, yeah bruh…be of service."

"Well said, Brute."

"Brute?" I smiled lazily. “What can I uh…do bro?”

"First, let’s get you in uniform.” Jalen signaled to Duke, who then tossed a black cap to me. I secured it backwards onto my head proudly.

“Now, clean the frat house from top to bottom. I’m talking dirty laundry in the machine, trash taken out, floors scrubbed–the whole deal. I want this place looking slick before the party starts tonight. Once you’re done with that, you can go patrol the lawn for any feds. Got all that?”

It took a while for me to process everything, but eventually the dumb grin came back to my face.

“Yeah bruh…whatever you need.”

Mandatory PE Class

Markus walked through the university campus, his face clearly showing his annoyance at the situation he was going through. His school decided to "promote physical activity among the student body", and by "promote" they meant a mandatory Physical Education class every junior had to go through. And Marcus was not happy about it.

Marcus was an introvert - he didn't particularly enjoy parties, going to bars, or other typical college activities. He spent his time reading, researching and weightlifting. This might seem weird for a "nerd", but whenever Marcus put on his noise-canceling headphones and grabbed the bar with 100 or so pounds on it, he felt like he could finally relax.

But even though Marcus enjoyed going to the gym, he enjoyed it when he was there alone - no one with him, the amount of people in the gym at a minimum. These were the perfect conditions for him. This class would not be it. He would have to deal with God knows how many people, plus most likely some smart ass coach, who thinks he's the next Arnold Schwarzenegger.

The university gave him a choice of what he wanted to do during the class and Marcus chose weight training, hoping he would be left alone and allowed to just follow his usual routine without any interruptions.

Marcus arrived at the athletics department's building and after wandering through its corridors he found his way to Weight Room C09. He knocked and heard a booming voice invite him inside. He opened the door and walked into a smallish locker room, where a few guys were getting ready and another man, clearly older than the others, stood on the side and waited. That was probably the coach.

"Marcus, right?" the supposed coach walked up to Marcus. "I'm Assistant Coach Baker and I'll be leading your group this semester." He extended his hand and Marcus shook it reluctantly. He quickly turned around and began changing into his gym gear.

Once everyone was ready (and there weren't many people in Marcus' group - only 6 guys) the group led by Coach Baker moved to the weight room proper. Marcus wanted to walk up to Baker and ask him if he could just do his own routine, but before he had mustered up the courage to do this Baker began warming up and expected the rest to do the same. Marcus rolled his eyes and sighed, before joining the group.

The next hour passed slowly. Baker had the group do a fairly quick and lite set of exercises, lite for Marcus at least. After the class had ended everyone was getting out of their sweaty shirts in the locker room. Marcus put his gear in his backpack and as the rest of the students began leaving the room, he walked up to Coach Baker.

"Sir, could I make a certain request?" He asked, a bit shy.

"Oh, Marcus, yeah? I also wanna talk with you about something. But go on." He wanted to talk with Marcus about something? That didn't sound great. He stood silent for a moment.

"So..." Baker looked at Marcus, his eyebrow raised.

"Oh yeah. So... I was wondering... I, I go to the gym quite often, and have for a few years now... and so I thought... Would it be a problem if during these PE classes I... I just followed my usual routine and you, you just did what you have planned with the rest?"

Coach smiled as he listened. Marcus wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing.

"Well, Marcus, I'm glad you see the importance of exercise. But I don't want no divisions in my group, you understand. I want to work with all of you, show something to everyone. Although, because you asked, I'll be sure to adjust the exercises for your level." Marcus nodded, although he wasn't really happy with Baker's response. "And while we're talking, I wanted to ask you something - would you be interested in trying out for our football team?"

This took Marcus by surprise. The football team? Where did that idea come from? He was not about to join a group of brain dead jocks.

"What?" he simply asked, confused.

"Well, I have noticed your strength during our hour together. And I think you would do great on the gridiron." Baker put his hand on Marcus' shoulder. Marcus did not like that.

"Wel, uhm... thank you for the proposition, but... no, I'm, I don't think I would fit in."

"Are you sure? I could help you fit in just right." Baker grinned again.

"Yeah... I'm sure... Mr. Baker" Marcus stood there and avoided eye contact with the older man.

"Call me Coach" Baker laughed. "If you're sure... well, I ain't gonna force ya. Now go, I'll see you next week."

As Marcus left the building he sighed. This was going to be an exhausting semester.

Reality turned out weirder than he expected.

As the months progressed Marcus attended every PE class, his annoyance with Baker's refusal to just let him do what he wanted not strong enough to risk messing with his attendance. Baker meanwhile stuck to his word, and for the most part Marcus was doing what the rest of the group was doing.

Although... this wasn't the whole truth. Because even though Marcus wasn't allowed to do his own thing, while doing the exercises Baker would come up to him and ask him to change something about the movements, add more weight, do another variant of the exercise. So even though he was working with the group, he did get the chance to do way more challenging things.

Baker himself was weirdly invested, at least that's how it seemed to Marcus. He very much got into that role of the supportive coach, he stood next to Marcus, counted his reps, motivated him to "just push further". Marcus found that strange, but didn't want to get into any kind of argument with the coach, so he just went along with this.

As the semester came to an end Marcus also had to admit he got something out of these classes. The exercises Baker had him do were pushing his limits, and he did adjust his normal gym routine to include stuff he learnt from him As he looked in the mirror, standing in his room on the day of the last class before the end of the semester he had to admit he was bigger than 5 months prior.

The last class came and went pretty uneventfully. Marcus beat his PB on the bench by 10 pounds and after an hour he came back to the locker room sweaty and gross. Baker thanked all the guys for coming, asked them to continue going to the gym and said goodbye.

As Marcus got ready to leave the locker room Baker looked at him and said "See you at practice, 90" and went back to the weight room. Marcus had no idea what that meant, but the class was over so he just shrugged and left.

Marcus entered his dorm room and sat behind his desk. He had some work to do on a paper he wanted to submit next week. He opened his laptop and quickly got to work. After a while he needed something to drink so he stood up and walked up to his mini fridge. There he noticed a mug standing on top of it. It was a cup branded with the logo of the Lions, his university's football team.

This was weird, as Marcus did not recall ever getting any merchandise like that. Maybe someone left it here by mistake, Marcus didn't know. But it seemed it was the only clean mug he had, so he quickly poured soda into it and went back to his laptop.

He got into the flow of writing and research pretty quickly. Then, around half an hour later, he was surprised by a notification from some group chat. 10 unread messages from "jungle kingssss 💪". What the hell was that? Marcus was sure he never joined such a conversation. Maybe it was some new kind of scam.

The notifications just kept coming, and at one point instead of deleting it Marcus clicked on it and a chat window appeared.

nah bruh, ya slayed that bitch well dude - steroidss#96

dude concentrate ffs - big dog jake#7

stfu bros where the fuck is tron where ya need him - mike chief#53

hes jerkin of or meal preppin bro, ya know that - steroidss#96

Marcus looked at the chat, even though he had no idea what he was looking at. It seemed he somehow had access to a group chat of some random meatheads. Although the numbers from their nicknames were tickling something at the back of his head, somehow.

if hes jerkin his fat dick ill kick his fat ass, we have state to fuckin beat - big dog jake#7

State? What does it mean they have to beat-- oh yeah, the Lions' next game is against Ohio State.

Wait.

What does that we mean in "we have state to beat"?

How did he know the Lions' schedule?

Marcus felt his head spin a little. Was he sick? He looked at the screen again and suddenly a new message appeared.

am not fuckin jerkin off you piece of shit, got fuckin dumbass school to take care of you idiots - tron's big dick#90

Marcus looked down. His fingers were still touching the keys. HE WROTE THAT!

And that we... It meant the football team! Marcus was reading the football team's group conversation. How the fuck did this happen?!

dunno why i even bother wit any of your stupid fat asses you fuckin shits - tron's big dick#90

Marcus jumped out of the chair. He did it again! His fingers were betraying him. He shut the laptop down and opened the window. Maybe he had to breathe in some fresh air. Was he hallucinating? Was this some infection? What was happening to him?!

He sat on his bed and breathed in, then out. In and out, in and out. In and out. In and out-- was he drooling!? Marcus wiped the drool from his face. It was getting late and he decided it would be beneficial to go to bed early. He turned around to get to his bed only to notice a sweaty hoodie with badly cut-off sleeves. It had the Lions' logo on the front and the number 90 on the back.

This was not happening.

This was just a dream.

Marcus told himself that repeatedly as he got into his PJs. He checked if his laptop was turned off and laid on his bed. He could swear he could feel a faint smell of sweat and... cum? But this didn't stop him from quickly falling asleep.

Marcus was dragged out of sleep by his alarm clock. He slowly got his body into an upright position, then began going through his usual morning routine.

He made himself a protein shake with added creatine.

He ate the oatmeal and eggs he always had for breakfast.

He put on the sweaty shirt from two days ago. It was fine, no one would notice. And he looked hot in it anyways.

He sent a message on the group chat.

you bitches ready to get dominated n pushed into the grass by my fat dick - tron's big dick#90

He got his gear ready and put his duffel bag on his shoulder.

the faggot of the team has spoken everybody - hall/of/glory#38

Marcus walked through the campus. He let out a dumb chuckle as he read the message. Jalen was the best.

not everyone can slay pussy like tron, bitch - tron's big dick#90

He entered the building and walked towards the locker room-- Marcus suddenly stopped and looked around.

Where was he?

He didn't remember waking up.

He didn't remember dressing up.

He didn't remember coming here.

Where was he?

As he tried to understand what the fuck was going on Assistant Coach Baker appeared, walking through the corridor, coming towards him.

"You know why you're here, Marcus?"

"No!" Marcus shouted, surprising himself, but not Baker.

"As I thought. Follow me" the older man waved at him and Marcus instinctively followed his lead. They walked through the football wing of the athletics department until they reached a door. Locker Room L01.

They both entered - Baker first, Marcus second - and Coach pointed to an open locker. Marcus walked up to it and looked inside.

Jersey. Number 90. Schoeder. His name.

Shoulder pads.

Cleats.

Condoms.

Gym gear.

It all reeked of sweat.

So fuckin' musky.

Huhuhuhuh, a proper jock's smell, bro

bro

bruh

WHAT!?

Coach came up to Marcus and looked him in the eyes.

"Do you know why you're here, 90?"

Marcus opened his mouth and tried to answer. But no words came out.

Coach grinned and took a sweaty Under Armour shirt from his locker. He then put the shirt up to his nostrils.

Marcus automatically inhaled and a fog descended over his mind. He took a few more sniffs. So sweaty, so musky. A fuckin' football jock's smell. A stupid grin appeared on his face, drool began flowing from his mouth. Bruh, that was so fuckin' good bro.

"Sick bro..." Tron drawled and put his arms into a double bicep pose. Coach Baker just smiled and took back the shirt before throwing it into the locker.

"Now, 90, put on the gear. I've trained a new defensive end for 5 months. Let's see it it was worth the hassle." He patted Tron on the back before barking at him. "Main field in 2 minutes or you won't be able to walk for a week, 90!"

"Huhuhuhuh" Tron responded with a dumb chuckle. "Yeah, Coach. No worries, dude."

He then quickly got ready and ran out onto the field.

whos ready for a fuckin beatin - tron's big dick#90

Thanksgiving Football

Justin sat on his phone. He was so bored waiting for everyone else to start arriving for the thanksgiving dinner. His dad had put the football game on their TV but Justin wasn’t really interested in it. Sports just wasn’t his thing. Everyone in the family knew it. Just looking at his out of shape body was enough of a signal that most people didn’t even need to ask. He wasn’t severely overweight but a belly had started to grow on his skinny frame. Bigger clothes had helped hide it somewhat but it was getting noticeable again.

“Sup big guy,” Cameron tossed a football at his chest. With a loud ‘oof’ Justin was able to catch it. It wasn’t a hard throw but enough to get Justin’s attention. The college football stud didn’t like to be ignored. “Gettin ready for the game! It’s supposed to be a good one!”

“I guess,” Justin just rolled his eyes at the thought. He just kept flipping through his phone as the game played out in front of him. Part of him had always been a little jealous of his cousin. The big guy could light up just about any room and was the size of a tank. People looked up to him literally and figuratively. Being jealous was almost just natural. 

“Come on man! Give me some enthusiasm,” Cameron was goading him. He knew how much Justin hated football. “You know I’ve got just the thing,” Cameron pulled out his phone and started flipping through it. The jock wasn’t known to do something like this. Even if his numerous girlfriends were texting him, he tried to keep the attention to the person right in front of him.

It was enough to catch Justin’s attention. He looked at his cousin a bit oddly. “What do you mean by that?” Just asked. But suddenly felt something really off about his body. He wasn’t sure what it was but something felt a little strange. He opened up his legs a little bit and leaned forward. For some reason his body felt hot. His shirt was sticking to his body. ‘Am I sweating?’ he realized. Pulling at the fabric it felt wet. “Hey Cam…” he panted. “I don’t feel so good…”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll feel great in just a second,” Cameron was still smiling about something. Justin didn’t know what it would have been though. He was too busy looking over his body trying to figure out what was happening to it. Sweat was really starting to pour out onto his clothes. He could see visible wet spots around his chest and pants.

“What’s…” he grunted. “What’s that mean?” Another grunt escaped his mouth. His whole body suddenly convulsed. He fell down onto the couch, writhing at the suddenly sensation overtaking his body. It was something he’d never known before. His muscles felt so strange. It was like they were going through some kind of intense workout. He didn’t know the feeling too well but enough to know what it was like to be tired. His muscles was going into overtime. They just kept contracting and expanding. Over and over. Contracting and expanding.

The first thing to go was his shoes as the front of his feet pushed out in front of the soles. The size 10 shoes were far too small for what his feet were becoming. The rubber and fabric bent around his feet and eventually dropped to the ground. His socks stretched against the bigger feet. His now bigger hands gripped a pillow tightly feeling his jeans and graphic tee pull even tighter around his body. He could hear some part of it starting to tear. Little by little he could feel constricted by his clothing. It was holding him back. With it on he couldn’t grow. He writhed more trying to squeeze out of it.

His shirt pulled at his chest and shoulders while his jeans would barely hold in his thick muscular butt. But it was his thighs that was going to free his bottom half. Their thick, strong nature tore apart the denim at the seams. One seam popped. Then another. Then another 5 then it just tore straight down his legs revealing their massive size. “Fuck…” he groaned. The shirt had raised up showing off the bottom abs surrounding his belling button. It was pulling even tighter against his chest. Two thick pecs weren’t enough to tear it apart. Neither were his 17 inch arms. It wasn’t long before they’d reached 18. Then 19. Then 20. “FUCK!” He let out a muffled scream into the pillow and a flex busting the shirt. The soft fabric didn’t stand a chance against his dense body.

Justin stood up and looked at his cousin. He was only about 2 inches shorter than him now. “How ya feeling?” Cameron grinned.

“Bro. I feel fuckin great!” Justin said excitedly. For a second he tried to think about how he would have normally said it. But all he could do was criticize that part of himself as an aloof idiot. “Da fuck? Why can’t I fucking remember anything?” he asked. Justin wasn’t trying to curse. It just came out naturally. “All I can think about is football and working out!” But those thoughts filled him with joy. If anything he was even more ready for Thanksgiving dinner to load up on carbs and protein. It was the perfect cheat day.

“Sorry that’s part two,” Cameron said. “I got used to it too. Don’t worry. You’ll love it.” He got up from his chair and measured himself next to Justin. Of course he had to be bigger but Justin would hate it. It’d drive them both to working out and training for even more size. “Girls are going to be all over you now!” he slapped Justin’s tight back.

“Huh?” Justin looked down trying to go back to his phone but once he saw the football he grabbed it. “Let’s go play man! I’ve been sitting around all day!”

Cameron got up from the couch. “Yeah!” he cheered, beating his chest. “Let’s go fucking play!” Then realized what he was looking at. “Maybe you should go get some clothes on first though. It’s family today. Don’t think there’s any girls you’re trying to impress now.”

Justin looked down realizing his body wasn’t covered. “Shit man. Completely forgot…”

Waiting For The Roommate

Max sat in the passenger seat of his roommate's truck, waiting for Buck, who needed to quickly come back to their dorm room. As he waited he took off his tank top, it was fuckin' hot inside. He rolled down the window to get some fresh inside the car.

As he stuck his head out the window to breathe in some fresh air he saw some nerd approach him. He was wearing a dark brown button-down shirt and had a stack of papers in his hand.

"Max, is that you?" The nerd asked, looking at him. A smile appeared on his face.

"uhhhhhhhh... dude, do i know ya?" He asked, convincing himself not to call the guy a loser or a nerd. Coach said he had to get better at dealing with strangers.

"Max, it's me - Michael. We went to high school together!" The other guy replied, clearly convinced that they knew each other. High school? Max's head was covered with a fog, he couldn't conjure up any specific memories from high school.

"you sure bro?"

"Damn, Max, we had like half our classes together!" The nerd was getting a bit frustrated for some reason. "We talked about going to the same uni, and so much more! And now you say you don't know me?"

Max tried to focus. High school, friends, classes, college. It felt like his brain was fighting against him, a thick fog covering everything. His thoughts began turning towards his next workout. Damn, he'll be doing arms and chest. Yea-- Holy shit, he knew that guy!

"oh fuck, mike, yeah, of course, how are you brah?" Max extended his hand for Mike to bump, but he just awkwardly looked at it. Max ignored it.

"Oh my god, for a moment I thought you weren't joking" A half-hearted laugh escaped Mike's mouth. Max just grinned. "I'm fine, settled into college life. Found a study group--" Mike continued talking but Max didn't register another word. He was this guy's good bro - apparently - but that didn't mean he would be able to tolerate that nerd bullshit. He was made for different things than studying - like workin' out with his best bro Buck.

"Anyway" Mike looked straight at Max, whose attention came back. "How was your first year. You look... like a different person!"

"what you mean bruh?" Max asked. What did that ner-- what did Mike mean? Different? He was always a badass jock.

"I mean, you're jacked! In high school you hated gym class, and here you are, buff and all."

"dude, am like, ya know, a real bro, dude. gotta be jacked as hell" He responded and flexed his right arm, his biceps moving and bulging under his skin.

"I mean, that's quite the change. Like, we kinda lost contact after the summer, and you didn't give any sign of life, and I thought... but you're here!" Mike was clearly excited and Max smiled. Wait, what was this dude's deal? He was textin' and talkin' with a nerd like that? Nah, this didn't make sense... where the fuck was Buck where he needed him!

"huhuhuhuhuhuh, yeah bruh" Max just chuckled like the dumb jock he was, he didn't know what to say. He shifted in his seat and scratched his armpit.

"Anyway" Mike went on "how was your first year in college? Were you able to get into that engineering program you've talked about?"

Engineeri-- what? "huhuhuh bro, are you high dude, i ain't here for some weird soundin' shit like that bro. am here to get drunk, work out and crush State, fuck yeah duhuhuhuh." Oh yeah, Max remembered the last game they played, State's lame ass defence couldn't stop the brute force of their offensive line. And the look on their faces when their WR1 tore a muscle in his leg... fuckin' priceless dude!

Mike was clearly not prepared for that answer, which Max found weird, cause he thought his jacked bod was proof enough that he wasn't a stupid nerd.

"Wait, so..." He was clearly confused "if you're not doing engineering then what is your major?"

"major?" Max had no idea what that guy meant... Major... what was a major... Coach talked to him about something like that... It was something along the lines of... "uhhhhh, general ed? dunno bro, never really been a guy to focus on shit."

"What, general education?" Mike seemed shocked. "But, like... I don't understand, Max, you... You said you wanted that, so that you could do a PhD... Why did you change your mind... Like, really, why did you change so much?!"

All that talk 'bout changes made Max's head spin a little bit. Like, what changes? He's been a fuckin' bro since he came here, got a room with Buck, cause before that-- his brain again began filling with fog, his thoughts slowing down to a halt, but not before he blurted out a response.

"duuuuude, like, bro, ive been a real bruh, like, forever dude, duuuuuuuh, like i got my bro Buck, and he got me to Coach, and uhhhhhhhhh, ya know, he worked on me and huhuhuh--" and his mind went blank, a dumb grin stuck on his face.

"What do you mean? A coach 'worked on' you? That sounds... concerning, you know that, right?" Mike adjusted his glasses and looked at Max, clearly concerned.

But Max... Max's brain had shut off. He was sitting in the passenger seat of his best bro Buck's truck, chuckling like a dumb idiot and drooling slightly.

"duhuhuhuhuhuh, duuuude... fuckin' hot today brah, gotta get that pump huhuhuhuh" He flexed his arm and touched his bulging biceps.

"Jesus, did they do something to you? Did you have some traumatic head injury?" Mike leaned on the car, looking inside the vehicle to see what was happening with Max. "God, did they brainwash you? You're a completely different person... and a dumb jock!"

It took a while for Max's fog-covered brain to register what the nerd said. And before he even began formulating a response Buck approached the car.

Buck was wearing a loose tank top that revealed his broad shoulders and giant guns, while also showing off his chest. His shorts, like second skin on his thick thighs, left nothing to imagination with his bulge clearly visible. He was a jock. An alpha. Max's best bro.

"duuude, ya won't believe the chick i saw while gettin' out of the dorm--" He started speaking as he opened the door on the driver's side, but then he noticed Mike standing by Max's window. "ey bruh, who's that loser?"

"huh?" Max turned to Buck, his grin disappearing and his his brow now furrowed. "i... dunno, bro..."

Buck and Mike looked at each other for a moment, the first one annoyed, the second slightly terrified.

"get away from the car" Buck barked as he sad down in front of the steering wheel.

"Wait, please, just a moment, you know what happened to Max? Pleas i just want to--"

"Go away, you fuckin' nerd" was the response Mike got. He took a step away from the car but didn't go away. Meanwhile Max realized what was happening. Some nerd was disturbing them and not listening to Buck's commands. And that wasn't the right thing to do. He turned his head to face the nerd.

"why you starin' at me, nerd" Max growled. His mind, completely covered by the fog, was now following Buck's lead. And Buck didn't like the nerd. So Max didn't like the nerd.

"Max, what... what happened?" Terror shifted into confusion as Mike tried to comprehend Max's sudden change in mood.

"oh, just fuck off, loser" Max responded and Buck took that as a sign. He turned the engine on and drove away, leaving Michael alone in the parking lot.

"uhhhhhh, do we know this guy?" Max asked a few minutes later. "that nerd form before?"

"nah, bro, of course not. we're real jocks, we're not gonna fraternize with fuckin' losers." Buck let our a low and dumb laugh. "by the way, tomorrow we're gonna get ya to Coach for a check up, just in case"

Happy Hour

[with extra special thanks to @jhontfs for helping me find the best possible resolution for the final image]

Jared (right) was so happy to have found Michael (left). Both of them hated the gay scene. Too much drinking. So much sluttiness. Nobody was interested in being cultured or productive. Jared was proud of how driven he and Michael were. How else could Jared have become a Senior VP of Sales at age 28 (at his dad’s company)? And how else could Michael have risen through the ranks to become lead accountant at age 27 (at a subsidiary of Jared’s dad's company)?

Needless to say, they could afford to spend their anniversary dinner somewhere other than Buffalo Wild Wings. But they came back every year because it was where they first met, doing summer jobs so they could hustle and save up money for when they went to Ivy League colleges. They liked to return to where they met, dressed in their Brooks Brothers best, to remind themselves of how far they had come. It was fun!

Well, usually it was fun. This year they could barely hear their conversation about which opera they should buy season tickets to. A group of frat boys was getting rowdy over at the bar, excited over some sports game or other. As the couple watched, glaring, one of the drunk dudes - a brunette guy with a backwards white baseball cap from which greasy brunette sideburns were spilling - was chanting “GO! GO! GO!” at the top of his lungs. He threw his hands in the air, accidentally slopping half his beer all over himself and the counter. While the others whooped loudly, he stripped off his top, revealing his shelflike pecs and broad shoulders, using his sopping wet shirt to mop up the rest of the spill.

Jared rolled his eyes. “What a disgrace. They should be kicked out. If I was still the manager here, I'd already be on the phone with the police.”

Michael glowered over at the boisterous group. "I don't mind if they want to hang out and watch the game. But it's like we don't even exist to them. They only care about themselves, and not how they’re affecting everyone else in the room.”

Jared crossed his arms. “Because they don’t realize other people have lives. To them, nothing matters more than sports, beer, and meaningless hookups. So they don’t think they’re interrupting anything by acting like drunken apes. And nobody else seems to mind! It’s straight privilege.”

Michael furrowed his brow. “I actually think they might be from a gay frat. That one guy looks very comfortable in that other guy’s lap.”

"Even worse,” grunted Jared. “It's bad enough that so many gays waste their lives on party drugs and meaningless hookups. Why add all the sports and rowdiness on top of that? What a miserable waste of a life. Why bother being a drunken lout when you can actually contribute to society in a meaningful way?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” Michael grumbled, stabbing at his salad with his plastic fork.

Vowing to ignore the frat boys and carry on with their dinner, the couple picked up their conversation, deciding to look over the opera schedules for a third time and pick whichever theater was doing the most Philip Glass performances.

Jared was about to move the subject along to his favorite topic, work, when Michael fell ominously silent, his eyes locked on something behind Jared’s head.

Jared turned to see the shirtless frat boy they’d noticed earlier, stumbling in their direction and looking like he was going to throw up. Jared tucked his feet in closer to the table. No way was he going to get vomit on his loafers on his anniversary, for Pete’s sake.

Thankfully, the dude didn’t throw up. However, what he did instead was even worse. As he walked past, he stumbled, slammed his beer stein down on their table (knocking the gift-wrapped Rolex that Jared was planning to give Michael onto the floor in the process), and fell right into Michael’s lap. The guy reeked of beer. Jared wrinkled his nose. Michael just stared at the man in his lap, wide-eyed, seemingly in shock.

The frat boy took a beat to consider the situation he found himself in. He looked Michael up and down, blinked slowly, twice, then wrapped his arms around him and gave him a wet sloppy kiss, shoving his tongue halfway down Michael’s throat.

“Excuse me, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” asked Jared. The frat dude pulled away and gave him a quizzical look.

“Yeah, what are you doing, man?” said Michael. But his tone was slightly slurred and vague, as if he’d gotten secondhand drunk from the sheer amount of beer on the other man’s tongue. His eyes were still wide and glassy.

The frat boy didn’t answer. He just locked lips with Michael again. And this time, Michael kissed back. Jared could see his boyfriend’s tongue darting tentatively into the frat dude’s mouth. He was so scandalized he couldn’t speak. No words came to him, which was a first.

The frat dude grabbed Michael’s face and Michael wrapped his arms around his broad back, his kneading hands leaving fading white impressions on the frat boy’s impressive traps. When the frat boy pulled away again and removed his hands, Jared saw he’d left a brown blotch of something on Michael’s cheeks, which was smeared around the bottom of his chin. Was that… barbecue sauce?

Jared looked closer, disgusted and confused, but noticed it wasn’t sauce. It was dry. It was… stubble. But Michael never even needed to shave, he had always been perfectly smooth… Jared watched in horrified fascination as the stubble seemed to pulse, greasy brown hairs wriggling out of their follicles, becoming longer and longer until they formed a dense line like a brunette shadow along the bottom of his boyfriend’s jaw. The hair carpeted his face like moss, totally wrecking the neat, preppy visage he otherwise displayed to the world and clashing horribly with his darker, slicked-back hair.

The frat dude paused his makeout session to lick along the trail of thick hairs, his tongue rustling against them, causing Michael to moan. Jared had heard his boyfriend moan before. Countless times. But this time, Michael’s voice sounded deeper. It reverberated in Jared’s head, causing him to lose focus for a second.

When his vision clicked back into place, he saw Michael’s hair also doing something that should have been impossible. Like a time-lapse video, the neat cut had begun to sprout, hairs breaking free from their slicked-back prison and flying out in every direction. His corporate undercut was slowly subsumed as the hairs on the back and sides of his head surged outward like an untended lawn filling with weeds.

The frat boy ran a hand through Michael’s lengthening hair as they kept kissing like a pair of wrestling pythons, leaving the hair greasier and messier than it had been before. It looked matted with sweat, like he’d just run a mile. Suddenly, as if they had flopped down from being strapped on either side of his head, two fluffy, greasy sideburns fell past Michael’s ears, connecting his chinstrap - and that’s what it was, Jared realized; a full, douchey-as-hell chinstrap beard - to the rest of his unkempt ‘do. As soon the connection was made, the dark color leached out of the rest of Michael’s head, leaving him with a tangled mop of brunette hair.

Seeing his boyfriend’s neatly styled hair dissolve into chaos in front of him was too much for Jared to take. The thing he loved most about Michael was how much he cared about his appearance. Neither of them could abide untidiness, but now his boyfriend looked like he’d been living in a cave for months. He made a move to grab Michael’s arm so he could drag his boyfriend away from whatever was happening, but he paused when he heard Michael speak in a rumbling bass, the words slurred and dull.

“Fuck, dude, you’re so fucking hot.”

Suddenly Michael’s arm was moved out of grabbing range as it vanished beneath the table, seemingly rubbing the frat boy’s growing bulge. OK, that did it. Whether it was the out-of-character cursing or the outright disrespect that did it, Jared’s haze of confusion cleared and he stood up.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Michael?” he spat.

Michael ignored him. With his left hand, he flicked the frat boy’s nipple, making it harden and pop against his bulging pec. Jared walked around the table and grabbed Michael’s shoulder, trying to shake him out of whatever stupor this frat boy had put him into. However, all that this accomplished was somehow ripping Michael’s expensive button-down shirt down the middle. Michael’s skinny, pale frame was exposed, rippling with exertion. Wait, no. Not exertion. It was just… rippling.

As Jared watched, six abs bubbled up from beneath his boyfriend’s stomach, clenching and unclenching as they grew and bulged, the force of their growing bulk eventually pushing against his navel until it seemed to burst, making a quiet popping sound as it flipped from an innie to an outie. The frat boy placed a finger at Michael’s belt line and ran it up toward Michael’s newfound abs, a trail of thick dark hairs rising up in its wake to form a masculine treasure trail, also brunette and slick with sweat.

Michael gasped and shuddered, pausing the kiss so he could take a deep breath. His chest slowly rose. And rose. And rose. His pecs ballooned into an enormous shelf, his soft nipples stretching to the limit until they too made a soft popping sound and turned into hard, dark knots at the end of what seemed to be two balloons inside his chest. His new pecs were too big for his position, crushed between him and the frat boy. He shifted slightly, removing his shirt completely and shaking out his shoulders, which spread like a pair of mighty wings, becoming an impossibly wide foundation to accommodate his newly giant pecs comfortably. He scratched at his rib cage, where a tattoo inked itself across the skin, bearing the Greek letters “delta rho chi.”

Jared realized he had just been standing there, gawping, for more than a minute. He couldn’t understand what he was seeing. This muscular, shirtless, horny guy who was still making out with a stranger looked nothing like his boyfriend.

His boyfriend, Michael, who was preppy and oh-so perfect for him.

But… there was nothing preppy about this man. Sure, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, but the button-down that Jared could vaguely remember seeing earlier was now a hockey jersey, rumpled and squished behind the horny duo’s writhing bodies. The smart slacks he thought Michael had worn were now distressed jeans that strained against muscular legs.

His boyfriend, Michael, who was an adorable nerd.

But… this guy certainly couldn’t be described as adorable. Jared examined Michael’s face, watching as his nose bent like it had been previously broken. The chinstrap, more than shaping his jawline, actually seemed to warp it before Jared’s eyes so it became straighter and broader. His neatly plucked eyebrows thickened, becoming vaguely simian and just as unkempt as the rest of his hair, also fading to a brunette color. His eyes were closed. Was it a trick of the light or were there bags forming beneath them? The skin around his eyes darkened and reddened, making him look like a hard-drinking raccoon after a week of sleepless nights.

His boyfriend who loved him. His boyfriend, whose name was… Whose name was what? Jared panicked, realizing that the man in front of him was so different from how he used to be that he was struggling to remember how he used to look and what he was called. Was it Mitchell? Michael? Oh, of course…

“Mike!” shouted Jared.

Mike broke his kiss with the frat dude with a sound like a plunger. He grunted, “‘Sup?”

“What’s going on, Mike? Why are you just making out with this idiot?” Jared asked. “What about us? What about our anniversary? The opera? Philip Glass?”

“Fill up glass?” Mike said, seemingly dazed. “Nah dude, I usually drain ‘em!” He chugged the rest of the beer from the stein that the frat boy had set on the table earlier. Giving a deep, boisterous chuckle and a burp, Mike picked up a blue baseball hat from the floor (which Jared could have sworn wasn’t there before), slammed it haphazardly over his greasy rat’s nest of hair, grabbed the frat boy by the hand and dragged him toward the bar, saying, “C’mon bro, let’s get another.”

As the newly minted frat bro walked away, Jared found the memories of his boyfriend fading more and more. He tried to remember the name again. It was on the tip of his tongue. He’d literally just said it. What was it? He tried to jog his memory. He was here at Buffalo Wild Wings because it was their anni-. Their- He was here because it was the closest place to his office and he needed to get some quick food while working overnight on this important report. Of course! How could he have forgotten? That deadline was looming. The stress of it must be the reason he felt so panicky, sweaty, and bereft. He dug into his messenger bag and pulled out his laptop.

————————

Mike was so happy he had found Eddy. Another bro just like him who loved to suck cock and didn’t mind inviting a third or a fourth into bed whenever the fuck they felt like it. Just a cool, chill dude, the kind he’d always dreamed of meeting when he got to college last year.

Speaking of… He turned to ask his boyfriend which Grindr hookup he wanted to invite over the frat house that night, but Eddy was distracted. He was looking over at some preppy-looking douchebag at a table a little way away from them. He had his laptop open, working on some sort of spreadsheet. He took frequent breaks from inputting data to glare over at Mike and his buddies.

Eddy bellowed over the racket their frat brothers were making. “Who the fuck brings work to Buffalo Wild Wings? What kind of loser life is that? Why bother pouring your entire soul into a career when you can just have fun and fuck around instead?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” Mike shouted as he pulled Eddy in for another sloppy, delicious, beer-soaked kiss.

The Jock Pod

“Sweet, I’m in!” Mickey said quietly to himself as the doors to the lab whooshed open. Unlike most labs on campus, this one was locked and unavailable unless you were working with one of the tenured science professors or the school’s scientist-in-residence. Mickey was a naturally inquisitive young man, and the secret of the lab drove him to stay up late at night coding a program that would allow him to enter the lab undetected. He knew he couldn’t go down the easy route of asking the dean of the college, as she made no exceptions for who was allowed into the lab.

He confidently entered the lab, knowing the scientists and students would be sleeping in their beds right now, and the program made it so that no silent alarms were tripped and all “booby traps” were taken offline. As Mickey explored the lab, he was a bit disappointed. It certainly had a high-tech feel to it, but it was something that he might encounter in one of the college’s other labs. He was about to give up when he peeked around one corner of the lab, and what he saw shocked him.

It was a pod-like device, large enough to fit most humans. There were a number of sticky notes on the machine itself, and documents scattered on the floor in front of it. Mickey quickly read most of them over, and discovered that this machine would give him a jock bodysuit! It was something out of an erotica he loved to read, and the science behind it actually seemed pretty sound. This shit could very well be legit! Mickey walked a bit closer to the pod and even looked inside, trying to see if he could find the jock suit.

The notes were insanely detailed, except on where the suit was actually contained. As he looked around, he didn’t realize the sensors were going off, silently, and scanning him. By the time he saw a glimpse of the red light, it was too late. Metal bonds wrapped around his arms and ankles and locked him inside of the pod, which then closed before Mickey could let out a scream. Even if the pod hadn’t closed, the guards barely checked this lab area, so he was fucked either way. “Assimilation process starting. Subject to be turned into jock.”

“No, no, abort, stop, get me the fuck out of here!” Mickey whined.

“The assimilation process can only be controlled from the outside. Unwilling participants were screened out ahead of time. Suit creation process commencing.” Mickey didn’t know how to respond as some sticky substance was shot out at him, kind of like a second skin building up his muscles. The voice was happily narrating as all of this happened. “This suit is a proprietary blend of honeycomb and nanoparticles mixed in with proteins and anabolic steroids. The honeycomb and nanoparticles provide a comfy cushion to the jock bodysuit, while the proteins and anabolic steroids create the lifelike muscles you now see all over your body.”

As much as the process intrigued Mickey, he was more focused on getting out of the pod. “Help! HELP! Get me out of here! This shit is fuckin’ messed-up, man!” Unfortunately, no one was going to come, and Mickey was forced to watch as most of his body was covered in this jock bodysuit. Eventually, after putting the finishing touches on his left nipple, the voice came back. “Suit creation process complete. Phase one complete. Subject has optimal muscle mass now.” What was quite interesting was that the suit didn’t cover him completely. Mickey’s crotch, ass, and head were not affected by the process, at least not yet. Mickey dreaded to find out what would happen to them.

“To proceed in the process, control over your motor function is required to move onto phase two. We remind you that you have signed consent forms ahead of time. Phase two commencing.”

“Fuck! That’s-” Mickey was barely able to get a sentence out before he felt a dildo being shoved up his ass. There was no lube or any preparation involved at all. At least now he knew how his motor function was going to be controlled, at least in the broadest strokes. He went back to screaming, but was silenced by another dildo being shoved down his throat, although this one admittedly more like a tube.

“The dildo tube connected to your mouth is pumping up substances that will help your body assimilate to the new muscle mass and the jock mindset that must come along with it. The dildo inserted into your anal cavity is how we will control your motor functions for the time being.” Mickey’s eyes could only bug out after hearing what they said, and even that was soon covered up too, by the bodysuit material covering his face and his ass as well. “The face material undergoes a special process to make sure the new jock you looks like a unique human being. The ass material is put on at this point to make sure the dildo remains in your anal cavity.”

The voice was right, as even though Mickey’s new bubble butt did have an anal cavity, or a hole, like it was supposed to, he could still feel the dildo deep inside of him. “Phase two complete. Phase three commencing. To complete your physical transformation into a jock, a cock and balls befitting of a jock is required.” Mickey could only watch in horror as more of the jock bodysuit material shot out from the pod, creating a cock and a pair of balls in the middle of the pod. However, this type of material looked to be quite specific for his genitals, making sure his veins protruded down his shaft and that his cockhead was nice and sensitive, and it wasn’t being directly applied there, yet.

It almost looked as if it was a puzzle, and the last two pieces were his new shaft and new balls. They were lowered down or raised upwards to his body, respectively, and it felt like Mickey had been wired up and a bunch of electricity was coursing through his body as his cock and balls welded together with his muscled jock bodysuit. As the painful process continued, the voice came back, but this time, she wasn’t narrating what was happening. “Each time you ejaculate inside of another woman, your body will reward you with a special form of dopamine specifically created to continually boost your alpha jock prowess.”

“Fuck, I would never do that!” Mickey thought to himself, a weird mix of relieved and nervous. The machine had already done this much to him; rewiring his brain to make him straight could be a very real possibility.

“Phase three is now complete. Suit creation process complete. Further changes require external assistance. My sensors indicate that it is currently 2:53 A.M.. Subject will be put to sleep until external assistance is available.”

“Fuck no, I don’t wanna go to sleep!” Mickey complained, but it was no use. The dildo in his ass relaxed all of his muscles and made him almost paralyzed, while the dildo in his mouth spit out a nice substance that quickly made Mickey fall asleep, despite his best efforts to remain awake. The next morning, the scientist-in-residence, Dr. Emil Salvicchio, entered the lab bright and early before any of his peers. Immediately he could tell someone had been there. He had a keen eye for changes, and even though Mickey had only rustled a few papers, Emil knew someone had been in here. He rushed to the pod, hoping that the person didn’t steal that. The pod was still there, and it was now closed.

“Who activated the pod?” Emil thought to himself, as he pressed some buttons on the side of the pod. The process could have continued, but he wanted to see who was inside of it. Mickey and his new muscular jock body were revealed to Dr. Salvicchio. He still had the metal bonds keeping him inside, but the dildos were now removed from his orifices. “Dr. Sal! You need to help me out! It’s Mickey, Mickey Guyerton! I had SCI101 with you as the teacher!”

“I can’t believe it! We’ve never had a human subject in the pod before, and for its first runthrough, perfection! It’s a medical and scientific breakthrough! We can get people out of wheelchairs, provide muscles to those who want it with no ill effects, maybe even stop cancer!” Emil announced, spitballing at the possibilities. He had been talking over Mickey, still complaining and trying to get through to the scientist. Eventually, Emil listened to Mickey, but it was not what the newly-minted jock wanted to hear. “Oh, ah, yes, Mickey, I do remember you now. But I can’t help you. I need to see if the jock assimilation process completely works!”

“Dr. Sal, please, no! Stop this! It can’t just be for science! Think of the humanity behind the process!” However, Emil didn’t listen and pressed a few buttons on the side of the machine again. The pod closed back up again and the dildos were reinserted into Mickey’s holes. The voice also came back, but like before, it really wasn’t helpful.

“Assimilation process continuing. Mental override initiated. This process requires a dramatic change in the neurochemistry of your brain. We remind you that you have signed consent forms ahead of time.” Mickey wanted to scream out in horror as both of the dildos began pumping some substance inside of him. It wasn’t kind enough to tell him what it was, but he knew that it was going to affect his neurochemistry and make him think he was some dumb straight alpha jock.

The substance going down his throat felt and tasted especially weird, and the substance in his ass didn’t feel anything like cum or even piss. Mickey was forced to plead with Dr. Sal, if he could even see him, with just his eyes. He knew that he needed to resist the changes for as long as he could. However, quite a bit of the substance was being pumped inside of him, and he could already tell it had started to affect his brain. He didn’t know how long it was, but eventually he felt a “click” inside of him, like he was now complete.

Mick’s new thought process then took over. “Yeah, brah, you’re the fuckin’ alpha, man! Any fuckin’ babe will wanna have your sweet jock babies! I wonder how many chicks get turned on by seeing ya in your tight football pants! I fuckin’ love football, man! I get to be with my brahs and it’s like a great way to pick up babes!” Mick’s new straight alpha jock personality took over, and any second now, Dr. Sal would get an alert to open up the pod. But the process wasn’t 100% perfect, not yet. Mickey, the gay nerd, was trapped deep within the recesses of his own mind. He was forced to watch as this glorified bodysuit was going to take over his life and mess with it irrevocably, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

The new kid

(Requested by fuckinhornyg)

“Give me your fucking lunch money” said Jason

“Ok here, here you go…” Said Scott

“Thanks nerd”

“Please let me go… now please”

“There you go, now fuck off”  

Scott ran off teary eyed. Jason walked off with his bro’s Mike and Liam. All three of them where high school bully jocks. Big football boys, nicely styled hair all though you didn’t see that much due to them wearing backward caps. They stood pridefully above the rest of the kids in their shadow. They went over to their lockers and chatted.  

“What we doing today bros” said Jason

“Well I got fucking Science shit this morning, but its ok as I got some fucking nerd to do all the work, after that I got a whole afternoon and evening with Coach” said Mike

“That’s fucking ace bro” replied Liam

“I got similar except I’m leaving practice early, I’m going to go break up with Haley later” Said Liam

“Why?”

“She’s a hoe”

“Yeah just do it by text then bro, then you can still play”

“Good idea”

“What about you Jason?”

“I got free session this morning then I got the afternoon with…” Jason stopped abruptly

Out of the corner of his eye 3 new guys walked in down the corridor. They were all quite nerdy but they had some height to them. They seemed quiet and shy.  

“Ah the new kids bro” said Liam also looking at them

“They came here apparently because they got bullied a lot, they chose to do math’s and science shit so maybe we can use em” said Mike

Jason continued to look at them, mostly the one in the middle. Something about him kept him intrigued.  

“Jason bro” Liam said bringing back Jason

“Soz bro, I think our new friends are gonna need to be shown who’s boss”

“Okay see you later bro”  

Jason followed them to math’s class. Jason didn’t get math’s but he had some nerd in class who did all the shit for him. Jason sat down in his spot.

“Hey… man I gave you your money and I’m doing your math’s for you. Do you need to be here in class to do stuff?” said Scott fearfully

“Don’t worry I’m not here for you”

Scott had a feeling of relief hit him all over.  

“Ok Class we have some new guys into day. This Tyler, Zack and Connor”

Jason looked at them intently. They were all pretty similar, spotty faces, underdeveloped muscles, poor hair styles and no style in clothing. Only thing that split them apart was their hair color. Tyler had a nice light brown, Zach had blonde hair and Connor was dark brown/black. Yet despite all this something about Tyler intrigued Jason. During class time Jason looked over at Tyler. For some reason Jason felt good looking at him, he started thinking how cool it would be if he was a jock as well. Tyler wasn’t as nerdy as Jason had thought, he kept answering questions wrong. Every time he failed a question Jason felt a good feeling build up inside him. Jason then realized Tyler isn’t a nerd, and he isn’t a jock. He doesn’t fit in anywhere.  

Jason followed and watched Tyler for a whole week. He watched as he failed at classes, got bullied by nerds and other students, however Jason commanded his fellow bros to leave him. When Coach asked Tyler to do tryouts for football, Liam and Mike did what they could to help him. Jason watched as Scott and other nerds tried to pull him and his friends into nerd life. Jason knew now that they would have to fail, because Jason didn’t want them to be nerds, he wanted them to become jocks like him.

——————————-  

The bell rang and Jason followed Tyler out the class room.  

“Hey Tyler” said Jason awkwardly

Tyler turned around and saw the hulking jock. He began to be scared thinking he would bully him.

“Oh hi” he said quietly

“I was wondering if you wanted to come and try out for football”

Tyler was now confused but he went along with Jason out of fear

“Ok sure” he said slowly

“Great bro, wanna come with me now to the locker room.”

“I have math’s next”

“Won’t matter if you fail another load of questions will it”

“I suppose not” Tyler felt sad at that, which upset Jason

“I’m sure you will be great at football”

The two walked down the corridor to the changing room which they entered. Tyler sat down and got undressed until he was only in underwear.  

“umm I don’t have any uniform or shoes”

“nah don’t worry you can have my stuff” Said Jason as he took off his clothes. He threw his jock strap at Tyler’s feet

“Well put it on bro” he said with a grin on his face    

Out of fear Tyler hesitantly took off his underwear in full view of Jason, he put on the jockstrap which felt weird. A desire to stay put and not move fell over him. Jason got up and took off his shoes.  

“Oh god what’s this odd feeling, Like I don’t want to get up”  

“yeah don’t worry about that bro, just breathe in” Jason held his shoe up and then quickly put it over Tyler’s mouth. Tyler tried to hold his breathe, but he failed and breathed in Jason’s Ranke musk from his shoe. As he did, he began to get light headed. His dick started getting hard and he began enjoying the musk. He put his hands over the shoe and Jason let go. Tyler looked down his vision blurry but he could see his feet growing, becoming bigger and slightly hairier. His legs began getting longer and thicker. He felt himself growing taller. His dick getting harder. He took one hand off the shoe to grab it but before he could Jason put it back on the shoe.

“Don’t worry about this bro, you focus on breathing in” Jason said before putting Tyler’s now 10-inch dick in his mouth.  

Jason looked up at Tyler who was in bliss, holding a shoe to his face and breathing in all the musky goodness. Tyler’s thin belly grew out become buff and strong, a 6-pack started forming and then further up two massive pecs exploded out dominating his upper chest. His arms lengthened out and thickened. His hands grew over the shoe becoming big. His face started becoming smoother and more defined. the spots all melted away back into his clean face. His hair became shorter and spikier. Tyler now had a jock bod and Jason was extremely proud but for him to truly fit in he needed to become a jock mentally.  

Tyler felt his head get lighter as memories and knowledge were all drained out and forced into his dick. They were replaced by memories of being a jock and star football player. He had average grades throughout his school life and needed to bully nerds to get it higher. He was also overly horny and fucked his bro Jason a lot. Once all his brains and memories went into his dick, it exploded all in Jason’s mouth. Jason took his mouth away and stood up. He looked over his new studly creation with pride.

“How do you feel bro”

“So good bro, Like I need to fuck, and also make more bro’s”

“Yeah bro that’s how I feel every day. The desire to turn even the most pathetic nerds into the best jocks is great. I can solve your horniness now though, bro" Jason stepped to Tyler and began making out with him. Their buff bodies rubbing together caused them to feel pleasure. They began to start fucking there and then. Once they finished and got dressed, they began making out again, however Zach and Connor walked in. They didn’t see the jocks at first, but when they turned, they saw them making out.

“Oh god Tyler what happened to you” Said Connor

“What did you do to our friend” Said Zach Angrily

“I made him more… more like me. But don’t worry bro’s there’s plenty for all” Said Jason in a cocky tone, an evil grin came over his face. Zach and Connor were shocked and confused at hearing this, but before they tried to go Tyler and Jason pounced on them throwing them to the floor and forcing the shoes over their mouth’s, beginning their jockification process. Zach and Connor breathed in the musky smell and began to feel the pleasure Tyler felt moments ago. Again, their bodies grew becoming taller, leaner and bigger. Abs started showing and becoming visible, two pecs exploded out dominating their upper body. Their faces changed becoming sharper, spots melted away, their hair shortened into jock cuts. Their pleasure was immense. Tyler and Jason knew that they didn’t need to continue holding the shoes over them. They let go and Zach and Connor held them tightly to their faces while they changed mentally. Their desire to be nerdy and top of every class but sports faded, instead they desired the perfect bods, to be the best at football, to turn nerds into jocks and to fuck all the hot babes. They began visualizing all the hot babes and boobs they could think of but they started having images flash in their heads. They didn’t know at first but they were images of hot dudes and each other. They started thinking about how hot guys were, big dicks and each other, eventually forgetting women completely.  As Zach and Connor put their hands on their dicks, Jason knew they would become perfect dumb jocks. Eventually Zach and Connor’s dicks erupted and they got up looking over their new jock bods. Their eyes found each other’s and they fucked. Eventually once they stopped changing, they got up and greeted each other with ‘bro’. Tyler and Jason fucked each other and Zach and Connor fucked each other before they all fucked together. Once done they discussed working out and football. They then got dressed for football.

However, while their transformations happened, they were secretly being eavesdropped by Scott who was currently cowering in the shower.  Once he thought it was ok to go, he quickly made a run for it keeping his head down. But as he made his fourth step, he bumped into something. He looked up and there was Jason looking down at him.  

“Where do you think you’re going bro?”

“there’s been a mistake I shouldn’t be here. I was just looking for something to help do your homework”

“Oh, don’t worry I will get someone else to do that, for now I need to satisfy my urge”

“What urge is that?”

“The urge to turn you into a jock”

“No please I don’t want to be a jock, I like my intelligence. Please don’t take that from me… I beg you don’t.”

“It’s so great when you do” Said Tyler coming from the side

“yeah, join us Scott” Said Zach and Connor. Slowly cornering Scott back into the shower.

“Join us, bro” They all said in unison, repeating over and over until Scotts back touched the wall. Then he looked behind him frightened and looked back Jason.

“Please I don’t want to be gay as well”

“Why bro? What’s wrong with that? I think it’s time you got used to being a jock”

Jason leapt at Scott shoving the shoe over his mouth. Again, Scott turned bit by bit into a jock. His body buffed up. Slowly turning into a perfect jock bod. Then he began rubbing his dick, with each rub more of his knowledge and heterosexuality was forced into his balls. When it exploded, a dumb grin came over him and he was forever now a dumb gay jock.

The boys left for a life of bullying nerds, football and fucking. Jason and Tyler were boyfriends but let others in on threesomes. Life was better for them.

How Things Used To Be

I wonder how long it took me to notice that there was something wrong with Nathan.  We had been best friends for years, ever since the 5th grade, and we always hung out together both in and out of school.  I was hoping things could’ve stayed like that this summer, but it seemed like fate had other plans.  Between family vacations and college prep, it seemed like he didn’t have time for me anymore.  And to make it worse, whenever he wasn’t doing that, he was hanging out with some other guys who I had never met, and he never even bothered to ask me if I wanted to come with.  I know people grow and change, but I didn’t want to see it happen to my own best friend.  On the bright side, we’re going to the same college, so I hope I can see him around.

And I did see him.  It was the third week of courses, once I was starting to get acquainted with campus life.  For once, I was actually being more social, trying to fill the gap that Nathan left.  I used this opportunity to start talking to people in my classes and I found that we had some similar interests.  I wish I could say the same for my roommate, but he mostly keeps to himself and we don’t have much in common.

Okay, back to Nathan.  I was walking back to the dorms after my last class, texting one of my classmates about the homework.  I was interrupted when I walked headfirst into another student.  I should’ve been paying more attention to my surroundings.  I looked up at the giant in front of me, probably 6’3”, before apologizing.

“James, is that you?”  the giant asked.  The voice sounded very familiar, yet at the same time, different.  I took a closer look at him.  “Long time no see, huh?”  I was surprised when I realized who it was.

“Nate?  Woah, what happened to you?”  I couldn’t believe that this person in front of me was my best friend.  This was not the same Nathan from three months ago during graduation.  He was always a bit taller than me, but he had to have grown at least 3 inches.  He used to wear glasses, but it seemed like he switched over to contacts.

In the warm August heat, he was wearing a tank top which revealed his newfound biceps for the whole world to see.  The tank top clung closely to his chest and I could see his newly-formed six-pack through the fabric.  He was wearing basketball shorts that were short enough that I could catch a glimpse of his thighs, which were just as big as his arms.  I never knew Nathan went to the gym, and if he did, he never told me.  But still, I couldn’t comprehend how he became so huge in just three months, which made me more curious about what he had been up to.  A backwards hat fit tightly atop his head with Greek letters on them.  Sigma Lambda Chi…  Had Nathan really joined a frat?  To be completely honest, he looked like he was cosplaying as a frat bro, a far cry from how I knew him.

“Like what you see, bro?”  James chuckled, as he flexed one of his arms.  He definitely never came across as a cocky showoff, but I was too distracted by his flexed bicep to notice.  I caught myself staring for a second too long, before feeling my face turn red hot.  Me and Nathan knew everything about each other, but there was one thing I never told him.  I was gay.  To tell you the truth, I had a crush on him, but I knew I could never tell him to preserve our friendship.  But now he looks even better, and he hasn’t made time for me at all.  Now he really felt out of my league.

“I’ve been working out a lot lately.  I’m glad you noticed.”  He still had his signature smile, but it looked out of place on his new body.  His face especially looked a lot more angular and masculine.  A visible tan glazed over his body like a fresh coat of paint.

“Daaamn!  You look great, dude!”  To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to feel talking to him again.  On one hand, I was happy to see him again, and, admittedly, a little surprised to see him like this.  On the other hand, he ditched me this whole summer to hang out with some other guys.  It felt so bittersweet.

“If there weren’t other people around, I’d let you…I mean uh, how have you been bro?  I know I’ve been busy a lot lately.  Sorry about that, dude.”  We told each other what we did over the summer, and wow, was his summer more interesting.

As we caught up, I learned more about what he has been up to.  Apparently, he joined a frat and he was hanging out with the guys there more and more.  He promised that he’d bring me to a party sometime, but I was hesitant because I’m not much of a party animal.  That lifestyle just isn’t for me.  He also said he was thinking about joining our school’s football team at the request of his roommate, which I found even more surprising because Nathan never played sports in high school.  I did track, but I was never that big into sports myself.  Our conversation was interrupted as another guy entered the scene.

“Yo, Nate!  Finally found you.  You seriously need to get better at texting me back, dude.  And who’s this dude?”  The guy was wearing the same hat as Nate, so I figured he was one of his frat bros.

“My bad, bro.  Brett, this is James.  We go way back.  James, this is Brett.  He’s my roommate.  We met over the summer and we’ve been hanging out since.”

“Alright, cool, bro,”  Brett responded, clearly impatient and indifferent towards me.  He dismissed me entirely, almost like I wasn’t worth his time.  “You still going to the gym with me or what?”

“Sorry, bro.  I just ran into him and we were catching up.”  Nathan responded.  “Hey, I gotta get going.  We should get food sometime.  Peace!”  I watched as Nathan and Brett walked away in the opposite direction of me towards the gym.  As they moved further away, I could hear Brett chastise him about something.  This is the guy that Nathan ditched me for?  I hope I’m wrong, but he seemed like kind of a dick.  I know I was jealous of him for taking up my best friend’s time, but I didn’t trust him.  As for me, I returned to the dorm to work on the assignment with my roommate.

The next time I saw Nate was that weekend, when I held up his promise to get something to eat.  I tried to ask him about it earlier in the week, but he was doing stuff at the frat all that time.  I was at least grateful that he took time out of his schedule for me for once.  He mentioned that he normally doesn’t hang out with anyone who wasn’t in the frat, almost like they were some exclusive bro clique that I was excluded from.  For once, it was good to hang out with him one-on-one without any of his frat bros getting in the way.  I expected things to be like how they were before, but I couldn’t be any more wrong.

It’s not that I disliked the new Nathan, but I felt like we didn’t have much common ground anymore.  It was like he was a completely different person.  He didn’t seem to care that much about our old interests anymore.  He didn’t have time for video games and he just wasn’t that interested in watching movies or photography anymore.  All he seemed to care about was working out all day and partying all night.  All he would talk about was some stupid stuff he or one of his bros did.

Plus, he told me he switched his major from mechanical engineering to be a personal trainer.  It seemed like he just became a total gym bro overnight.  The studious and witty Nathan that I loved kinda just seemed to be a stereotypical meathead now.  The worst part was that I knew that this was the same Nathan deep down, and he still treated me the same even if he was a lot busier.  I felt like maybe I was the problem since he was clearly still having a good time, and I wasn’t.  Why do I feel this way?

I felt my mood change as we talked.  Eventually, I figured it was time to cut off the conversation and return to the dorm, but Nathan definitely knew something was off.  He texted me later that evening, asking me if everything was alright.  To be honest, I wanted to make some lame excuse that I was feeling sick, but we’ve always been honest with each other, so I told him how I really felt.

Me: Nate, to be honest, I think I need some time away from you.  I don’t hate you or anything, but it feels like we’ve been growing apart and I feel like you’ve become a different person.  I feel like when I look at you, I don’t see the Nathan I’ve known for years, but someone else entirely.

I wanted to say more about how I felt about his new changes, but I didn’t want to escalate things.

Nathan: James, I’m sorry you feel that way about me.  I felt like we had a good time today.  I’ve grown and changed a lot recently, and I’ve realized a lot about myself, but I’m happy with who I am right now.  I know I’m spending a lot of time at the gym or with Brett or my other bros, but I still care about you deeply, bro.  You might be right though.  Hanging out with you isn’t the same as hanging with the guys at the frat.

Me: Do you honestly see yourself as just a frat boy?  You’re more than that.  You’re my best friend.  But now, you have more in common with the jocks from high school than the Nathan I knew.  It’s hard talking to you now since all you care about anymore are your gains and partying.  You’re nothing more than a meathead now.

Nathan: So that’s how you see me, bro?  The reason I had been avoiding you is because I knew that you wouldn’t like seeing me like this.  I guess I was right, bro.  But trust me, I’m happy like this.  I’m a lot more social than when I was when I was with you, and I’ve even become more in shape too.  I care about our friendship more than you can possibly imagine, but I guess this is for the best.  To be honest, I think it would be a lot of fun if you were here in the frat with me, but I know you wouldn’t say yes.

I didn’t bother responding.  I could never picture myself joining a frat.  I would never get along with his frat bro friends, especially Brett, who seemed to be the one he was closest with.  I still couldn’t believe Nate would choose him over me.  I wasn’t sure whether to feel angry, or sad, or disappointed towards him.  I felt like he was wasting his life partying when he should be studying.  To think this was the person I cared about more than anyone.  It was at this point that I figured I probably wouldn’t have my old friend back.  Or so I thought.

A couple weeks passed and I tried to move on from Nathan.  I always saw him on his story drinking and partying late into the night at the frat house or posting selfies at the gym.  He looked like he was fully embracing his new frat boy persona now.  If he didn’t still care about me, it would’ve felt like he was doing it out of spite.  As for me, I started to hang out with my classmates more and more, and there was even a guy I went on a date with.  It was a nice date and I did like the guy, but for some reason, the thought of Nathan lingered in my mind.  Even though I hated what he had become, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him.  I couldn’t deny how much he turned me on.  Why was I still thirsting after a stupid fucking frat bro?  One afternoon, after I returned to my dorm, I received a text on my phone.  To my surprise, it was Nathan.

“Hey bro, can we talk?  There are some things I need to get off my chest.”

I didn’t know what he could possibly want with me now.  I suppose I can hear him out just so I can see what he wants.  I went over to his room further down the hall, and thankfully Brett was not here to ruin the moment.  Nate said that he was doing some preparations for some stuff at the frat.  When I asked, he didn’t specify what though.  It always feels like stuff at the frat is kept under wraps.

“Did you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Even if it’s beer?”  A mischievous grin appeared on his face.  Was he seriously offering me beer?  I knew that alcohol wasn’t allowed in the dorms, but clearly that rule didn’t faze him.  Obviously he knew how to get his hands on some drinks.  To be honest, I had never drank alcohol before, but I figured this would be the easiest way to try it before I turned 21.  Plus, it might alleviate the tension between us.  Either that or make us fight like two drunkards in a bar.

“Sure, why not.”  Nate went to get two bottles for us.  I took my first sip and was disgusted by the bitter taste of the beer.

“You don’t like it?  Neither did I at first,” Nate chuckled.  “After a while, you get used to it.”  Nate turned the TV on as we chatted.  I apologized about what I said about him last time we talked, but he said it was no big deal.  I felt like I was a little too harsh on him.  It could just be the alcohol, but I found that I got along with him better than I did weeks ago.  As we chatted, my body started to tingle.  Was this how it felt like to be drunk?

“Hey, Nate.  I feel kinda weird, but not like drunk weird.  Is this normal, bro?”  I asked.  By this point, we both had two drinks each.  I didn’t mind the taste of the beer the second time.

“Nah, you’re fine bro.”  Nate responded, with a smile on his face.  Compared to me, he appeared to be much more sober.  “It happens sometimes, especially when you’re not used to it.”  I figured he knew best, since he was the one drinking and partying all the time, so I ignored this foreign feeling rushing through my body.  I felt as if my body was overheating as I felt my arms and legs throb and pulsate.  Sweat was leaking off my armpits and down my forehead.  There was part of me that knew that something was off, but it was drowned out by the alcohol.  As I took another sip, I felt my arm spasm as I accidentally spilled some beer onto my shirt.  Shit, I wasn’t expecting to do laundry later.

“Damn bro, you made a mess.  You alright?  Do you wanna change your shirt?”  Nate asked.  I nodded and he quickly went to his room to pick out something for me.  It wasn’t the first time I had to wear his clothes.  “Sorry about that, bro.  First thing I found.  Hope it fits you.”  It was a stringer tank with Sigma Lambda Chi on it.  I bet Nate looked like a walking symbol of the frat wearing that stuff.  For some reason, the idea was kinda amusing to me because it seemed so over the top.  I wondered how I would look dressed up like that.  I’d probably look really stupid.

I stripped out of my wet shirt and changed right in front of him.  I caught a whiff from my armpits, and I thought I smelled like a sweaty gym bro.  The tank appeared to be a size up and it hung loosely on me.  Still, it was better than nothing I guess.  Despite that, it had a nice familiar smell to it though.  It smelled like Nathan, but at the same time, it had a different flavor to it.  He smelled a lot more manly than I remembered.  I bet he wore it to the gym often.

Eventually, after my third drink, I went to go to the bathroom.  My body was starting to ache, like I had just done a workout with Nate earlier.  Workout…Was that what happened earlier?  …I think so?  Did we work out after class and come back to his place for some brewskis?  For some reason, the events of today felt incredibly fuzzy to me.  I was starting to forget the reason I was here in the first place.

I clumsily stumbled over my feet which looked bigger than usual.  After I took a piss, I looked at myself in the mirror.  Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I didn’t always look that big, right?  From a first glance, it looked like I was looking through one of those distorted mirrors they have at amusement parks.  I had to have been really drunk at this point.  I chuckled at the figure in front of me.  At this point, I almost looked like one of those frat bros!  I decided to flex my arms like they would, oblivious to the fact that they already grew just a little bit, before joining Nate on the couch.

“There you are, big man!”  he said as he squeezed my muscles.  I have been working out recently, I think.  “I thought you passed out in there.  Most guys don’t last that long for their first time, but you look good enough for another brewski.”

After downing our fourth drinks, the conversation took a different turn.

“Yo, James.  I knew you said you weren’t too big on the idea of joining our frat last time we chatted, but how do you feel now, having thought things over?”

I remembered our last conversation.  Honestly, I was so drunk that I didn’t remember why I turned him down in the first place.  The idea that seemed unappealing to me at the time seemed like it was perfect for me at this moment.  I didn’t even understand why I would be so reluctant to join.  I needed to join more than anything else.  I would do anything to join, even if I had to completely humiliate myself in front of my fellow bros.  At this point, nothing was too extreme for me.  The fact that Nate was in it was enough reason to join, so we could hang out more like we used to.  Plus, I could get to hang out with all my other bros and drink and party whenever we want.

“I’ve given it some thought, and yeah bro, I’ll join,”  my voice slurred as my mouth moved before my mind could.  I had committed at this point.  No backing out now.  I’m a member of Sigma Lambda Chi for life.

“Sweet, bro!”  He grabbed me on my far shoulder and pulled me close.  “I’m glad you said yes, because I have a surprise for you.  Close your eyes, bro.”

I closed my eyes as Nate went into his room to grab something.  Did I actually agree to join his frat?  I’m not sure what’s going on with me today.  When he came back, I felt Nate press on my head as his “surprise” fit tight around it.  “You can open them now.”

I realized I was wearing the same hat that Nate always wore, with his frat’s letters printed on it.  “We’re gonna be matching now, bro.  Isn’t that awesome?  I know you’re gonna want to wear it whenever and wherever.  But you’re wearing it wrong.  Let me fix it for you, dude.”  He turned the brim around so it faced my back.  As my hat turned backwards, I felt my mind fog up and any tension or brain activity screech to a halt.  I was unable to realize what I signed myself up for, unable to protest.  My conscious mind was drowned out by the alcohol and this hat was like a lock, sealing it away.  Not that I was against this, as a wave of pleasure surged through me.  I felt my mind slow down, almost as if it was stuck in molasses, as my thoughts began to simplify. It felt good though...

I would follow the example of my fellow brothers.  Look like them, think like them, act like them.  Almost like a hivemind of bros, you know, bro?  By this point, the changes were irreversible.  Nate had turned me into another frat bro just like him.

“Everything worked out as planned, bro.  You see, when you, my own best bro, told me you didn’t want to join the frat with me, I was actually really hurt.  So I talked to Brett, and had him “work his magic”, to help me do to you what he did to me.  I don’t like to lie to you, but it’s a frat secret, so now you get to know bro.  Like I said, it’s a secret, so don’t talk about this with anyone.”

“Don’t worry about it bro.  It’s all…uh…

Fuck dude, what’s the word…water under the bridge?  Huhuhu…”  I really had to think about that one.  I found it harder to articulate and use complex words, as I mainly just spoke in bro-speak.  To be honest, I wasn’t really that upset that he lied to me.  He did what he had to as a member of the frat.  I never stayed mad at one of my bros for very long.

“Now we get to be brothers for life,” he said as he gave me a big bro hug.  We clung to each other like two giant masses of muscle.  My huge biceps wrapped around his firm back as his did for me.  Afterwards, he handed me my fifth drink and we cheered to me joining Sigma Lambda Chi.  He laid down all of the rules, what everything was like, telling me about the coolest guys there, and so on.  He said he’d bring me to the frat house and introduce me to everyone tomorrow.  “They’re gonna love you for sure, bro.  I’ve got an eye for cool bros like you.”

As it got later, and we moved on to drink numero 6, I felt myself get very tired as we both passed out on his couch.  I woke up a couple hours later, and I looked out the window to see a pitch black sky.  Shit, it was almost 10 PM and I had to turn in my assignment at midnight.  But for some reason, I didn’t really care right now.  I didn’t mind turning in assignments late as long as the teacher still gave me credit.  I felt no different from the way I was a couple hours ago, just another Sigma Lambda Chi frat bro, but I liked it.  It felt right to me.  It was where I, no, where we belonged.

I looked down.  Nate’s tank hung tightly to me now.  It took me a second to notice my arms…Holy shit, they were fucking huge!  I looked awesome, bro.  As I admired my new body, Nate was still asleep, his hand on my meaty thigh.  Just above that, my dick throbbed through my pants.  Fuck, I was so horny for some reason.  Eventually, Nate slowly regained consciousness.

“I usually don’t drink this much on a school day,” Nate said, still a little hungover as he rubbed his eyes.  We sat in silence for about a minute before he spoke again.  “By the way, there was another reason I invited you over.  There’s something that’s been on my chest for a while.”

“Go ahead, bro.  I can take it,”  I responded confidently.  My voice sounded deeper and more bro-like than usual, just like him.

“Here goes, dude.  I think I like you, bro.  Not like you, but I think I like like you.  I know it’s hella gay, but I couldn’t stand to see you be so cold to me.  That’s why I had to make you a bro like me.  I’m sure you’ll love it here, bro.  And hey, if you’re not gay, that’s cool.  We can forget this shit ever happened and go back to being bros for life.”

At first, I honestly thought I was still dreaming.  First, he turned me into a frat boy, and now, he was confessing his feelings to me?  How crazier could this night get?  For all my life, I thought he was straight.  I remembered being glad when he broke up with his girlfriend two years back.  I couldn’t stand her.  When he joined Sigma Lambda Chi, I assumed he was 100% straight and that he was banging some sorority chicks every night.  To think he felt the same way I did all this time.

“Bro, I like you too.  When you stopped talking to me, I started to get kinda jealous.  I didn’t want to accept you for who you are.  But being your bro just isn’t enough for me, bro.”  I leaned in for a kiss, my inhibitions still nowhere to be found.  It was my first kiss and it was with the person I cherished most.  I felt like I was in heaven.  I didn’t really care that I was a dumb frat bro like him anymore.  I never did.  That shit was stupid anyways.  But now, Nate fixed our friendship and made us closer than ever.  I loved the taste of his lips against mine and I didn’t want it to end but eventually Nate parted our lips.

“Wanna fuck me, bro?”  he whispered in my ear.  A flirtatious smirk was plastered on his face, and one of his hands was still wrapped around my neck.  This was real.  I nodded as he took me to his bed.  I had never done this before, but I’ve seen plenty of porn, so I knew what to expect.  He laid down on his back and stripped naked.  I never felt this aroused before.  My dick even looked bigger than it used to be.  I was so pent up that I felt like I was holding this load in for months.  I guess frat bros really are as horny as they say.  I lubed up my larger cock before sticking it into Nate’s hole.

My serpent stretched out his tight hole as he had clearly not seen much action down there until now.  I pounded his ass as my dick went in and out of him.  In and out, in and out, in and out…It was a steady rhythm, my dick was like a metronome.  My hands clung to him as I held him in place, pinning him to his bed.  My hands ran all over his shoulders, broad and muscular, built like a football player’s.  We both felt absolutely euphoric as our deep, masculine moans filled the room.  The moans were loud enough that the students on the other side of the wall could easily hear them, but I didn’t care about any noise complaints as I fucked him harder and harder.  After half an hour of fucking, he both hit our orgasm at almost exactly the same time.  I ejaculated inside his tight hole, my hot, sticky seed flooding his insides as Nate came all over his abs.  At this point I was exhausted and still hungover and I basically fell on top of him on his bed.  We were both panting and out of breath.

“I knew you were a good fucker, bro.”  he whispered seductively as he kissed me.  We stayed in that position for several minutes until we heard the door open.

“Yo, Nate!  Did you do it?  How did it go?”  a voice asked, shouting loudly from the other room.  I recognized the voice as Brett’s.  He peeked into the room, witnessing the two of us cuddling together naked.  To be honest, I thought he would’ve been grossed out.  Guess I had the wrong idea about him.

“Better than expected, dude,” Nate responded.  He didn’t seem to care that we were both naked in front of his roommate and that we just got back from our trip to Pound Town.

“He looks way better this way, don’t you agree, bro?  But man, dude, now I know why you wanted him to be a pledge so bad.  I was wondering why you wouldn’t fuck any of those sexy sorority babes.  More for me, I guess.”

A week passed and by then, I joined the frat officially.  Me and Nate started dating shortly after, but none of our bros minded.  It didn’t matter if we were gay, we were still brothers.  I also learned how Nate met Brett.  He was taking a tour of the campus over the summer and he ran into Brett who was recruiting people for the frat.  Brett took a liking to him and kinda took him under his wing like some sort of mentor and they started hanging out since he only lived a town away from us.  Brett was our age, but he had more seniority and authority because his older brother Brad was very popular within the frat.  Turns out Brett and some of the upperclassmen knew how to turn guys into the ideal bros for their frat.  They wanted to bolster their numbers to make Sigma Lambda Chi the biggest and coolest frat in the state, with the biggest bros and the biggest parties, and naturally both me and Nate were chosen.  Not that either of us minded.  Nate joined the football team with Brett and some other guys in the frat, and the rest of us would go watch them play every game.  Our section of the stadium was always the loudest and rowdiest, especially when one of our bros scored a touchdown.

Apparently I grew a ton during the night that I was with Nate, but I was too drunk to notice just how massive I had become.  It must’ve been something in the beer, huhu.  I started working out with Nate and Brett, and sometimes some other bros too.  I even ended up changing my major.  I chose business because my bros said that it was the easiest shit ever and I wasn’t feeling psychology anymore.  I didn’t really feel like thinking much anymore and I found that focusing on education so much was a chore and that I was wasting my college experience.  I’d rather be partying and drinking or hanging out with the bros at the frat house, watching sports, playing video games, or playing ball outside.  I got to see why Nate grew to enjoy this lifestyle so much, and I was mad at myself for not seeing his point of view sooner.

Three years later, me and Nate are still dating and we’re set to graduate this semester.  We’re thinking about getting a place in the city not too far from campus, probably with Brett and another friend of ours to save money on rent.  We’ll probably still throw parties every weekend like we used to.  College was such a memorable experience and I wish I could live it again.  I only have Nate, Brett, and all my other bros to thank for making college awesome for me.

The Rookie's Figuring It Out

Going back to my dorm room, just had a meeting with Mr. Bridges, and he-- wait, who's Mr. Bridges? Anyway, just came out of a meeting with Coach, went great bro, got all the details figured out. Now I can go back to my place and relax, that was an exhausting day.

As I enter the dormitory building my phone buzzes. I take it and see I got a text from Jamie asking about... wait, what study group is he-- damn, some nerd got his numbers mixed up, I ain't joining no lame study group, no way bruh.

I enter my room and as I put my things away I feel my body aching. But i can't really say why, cause I didn't really-- dude, my muscles are, like, burning bro. Coach dragged me through a nightmare of a workout earlier, ya know, to see if I am worth putting on the roster.

i jump on the couch, now's the time to play some madden bruh, huhuhuhuh... dude, what are those books laying on the table? Intro to anthro... antrop... pology... that is, wait, I... I know, that's like-- huhuh bruh, that's some nerd shit here dude. dunno how it got here but i know where it'll go dude - straight into the trash, where it belongs bro.

bruh, where's my ps4 bro, dude? how am i s'possed to crush random losers on the internet when i don't have that fuckin' console-- dude, gotta prep some food for tomorrow, gotta get that protein huhuhuh, or Coach will get mad-- Coach says to eat enough calories and get enough protein. Coach's word is law. Coach is always right.

so i'm lookin' at my schedule, yeah? and we gotta practice 'morrow for like 4 hours or so, but here i have, in my calendar or whatever, and there's some college shit like dude, like classes and shit, like damn, i gotta tell Coach that i have some conflict in my schedule-- huhuhuhuh damn bro, got some fuckin' class in muh schedule during practice. fuck, what pussy goes to "ancient history 101" like, what a fuckin' idiot dude

wait bro, wait... so im a football bro, yeah, right, but i play college football, and college means, uhhh... like, what was that shit dude, damn... a major, right... college means havin' a major bro, and my major's something like... bruh, its like... oh wait-- huhuhuh dude, who gives a shit about some nerd shit bro, am here to play ball and bro out BRUH!

i 'ave Coach takin' care of all that boring ass shit dude, yeah, he's takin' care of all that smart bullshit and im just workin' out and tacklin' dudes bro. fuck yeah, dude, that's right bruh. im a fuckin' football dawg, born to play and to crush every goddamn dude who stands in my way bro, not to care 'bout any of that lame pussy shit bro. ya wanna go get those guns pumped, bro?

BREEDR

I wake up, slightly relieved I’m not hungover. Maybe I would have been if James hadn’t ditched me. I look down at my phone and furrow my brows. I have a missed call, a voicemail and an Instagram DM all from James left at 4:09am last night. Damn, that’s pretty late, even for James. I listen to the voicemail, struggling to hear James’ voice over the loud thumping club music in the background.

"AY BRO, ITS JAMIE! YOU GOTTA CHECK OUT THIS PERSONALITY TEST IM SENDING YOU, MAN. ITS FUCKIN CRAZY DUDE.”

James' message catches me completely off guard. Since when the hell did this 5'6 gay twink start using the word 'bro'? I mean, I was just with the boy at Glitter & Groove last night, the city's hottest new gay club. And, as expected, he ditched me by the end of the night to go off with some beefy daddy type. The daddy claimed he was straight, but for James, that's just a challenge. He loves the whole idea of "turning straight men gay." Personally, I've always believed that if a straight guy ends up in bed with James, well, he probably wasn't that straight to begin with. You can’t just change someone’s sexuality, but James always thought different. Damn though, that beefy daddy seems to have left a mark on him, got him to say 'bro' and shit.

“bro thiz is the new personalty test i did its so accrate check out the lynk belw"

Damn, this boy’s got an English degree. I can’t remember the last time I saw him make a spelling mistake. It must have gotten really crazy last night.

Anyway, what’s this he sent me? The personality test… ‘BREEDR’, it says. It’s 10am on a Saturday morning. I don’t got anywhere else to be. So, I click the link and am presented with the flashy homepage.

“IT FEELS SO GOOD TO RELEASE WHO I’VE ALWAYS BEEN ON THE INSIDE”

Discover Your True Self: Take our 10-Minute Test to Unveil Who You Are at Your Deepest, Most Primal State

I click on the test. It’s just the expected usual run-of-the-mill online personality quiz.

You enjoy learning new things

As a recent English graduate, I can't help but chuckle. Well, I'd be a complete fraud if I said I didn't. I click "yes" on that one. After all, I did just spend years immersing myself in literature and analyzing complex texts. Learning is practically in my DNA now.

Yes [-] / No [ ]

You like dogs more than cats

I guess. Though I must say the question seems pointless. How does this affect my personality. Whelp, I don’t know what I expected from a stupid online personality test. Sure, I guess I like dogs more.

Yes [-] / No [ ]

You like hanging out with friends

Are there people who don’t like hanging out with their friends? Okay, faster I get this over with the better. Sure, I’ll answer yes.

Yes [-] / No [ ]

I click quickly through the boring questions until one startled me.

You like big muscles

My eyes widen. Strange question, but I'll roll with it, I guess. I mean, it's not entirely untrue. I've always had a thing for guys with big muscles. There's something about the roundness and masculinity that I've always found appealing. It makes me feel safe and protected, you know? Damn, why am I hard thinking about muscles? I seriously need to get laid. Anyway, I'll just answer honestly. I click "yes" and move on to the next one.

Yes [-] / No [ ]

You frequently attend to the gym

I chuckle to myself as I read the next question. "You regularly visit the gym and actively engage in weightlifting." Well, that's a bit of a stretch. I mean, I have gone to the gym a few times, but I wouldn't say I actively go. I've always been more of a skinny guy, and the idea of lifting heavy weights in front of all those big, musty meatheads is a bit intimidating. Not to mention the stench in the local gym’s locker room always stank, which didn't exactly make me want to go back. I guess I'll have to answer "no" on this one.

Yes [-] / No [ ]

Wait, I pressed “no”. Why did it put in “yes”. I try to click “no” again but it seems as though my answer is locked in. Fuck, that might fuck up my results. Whatever, let’s just get this over with.

You often find yourself flexing and admiring your muscles in front of the mirror

I scratch my head, my bicep rubbing off my cheek. Well, now that I think of it, I guess I do sometimes. I mean, I'm not one of those obnoxious bodybuilders or anything, but if I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror, I might do a bit of flexing. But come on, doesn't every guy do that? I spend hours in the gym every week; is it really that narcissistic to want to show off my biceps every now and then? I guess I'll reluctantly answer "yes" on this one.

Yes [-] / No [ ]

You engage in manscaping and frequently wash your body

I do shower quite a bit, especially after going to the gym. Can't stand the thought of going about my day feeling all sweaty and grimy. Besides, the locker rooms at the gym can be quite the stinkfest. I've walked in there and almost turned around immediately. It's like a mix of old socks, musk, and sweat lingering in the air. It's not the most pleasant environment to say the least. So yeah, I guess I'm a little more bothered by bad smells than the average guy. So, yeah, I tend to shower a lot. As regarding the manscaping, I’ve never been able to grow much body hair. Can’t even grow a beard. So, manscaping has never really been a problem for me.

Yes [ ] / No [-]

I curse under my breath as I realize my big fingers accidentally clicked "no" on the question about being bothered by bad smells. Great, just my luck. Hopefully, it won't have too much of an impact on the final result. As I take a deep breath, a sudden hot stench fills my nostrils. It's strong, and I can't help but follow it like a sniffer dog, tracing it to its source. I lift up my arm, and there it is— a wild, tangled forest of armpit hair producing that foul odor. I can't help but give it a nice scratch and shrug. Maybe I did answer that previous question correctly after all. My last shower was almost four days ago, and it looks like my armpits are making up for lost time. Who cares, right? I scratch the scruff on my face, accidentally staining it with my musty stench. I smirk, finding the stench kinda amusing. Let’s just carry on with the test.

You feel at one with your bros

I continue to absentmindedly sniff my own stench, looking at the question. Fuck everyone smells so fucking strong, especially the pits. My bros? I don’t know if I’d call anyone my bros, but I guess in this context, someone like James would be my bro? Like my buddy or something. Yeah, I guess I feel at one with my him and he’s my bro. So, yeah. Me and the bros be pretty in sync my dude. Like we part of a dog pack or something.

Yes [-] / No [ ]

You like to think hard

Fuck, these pits bro. They smell so fucking good. Fuck, oh shit, I’m doing the test man. I forgot. Thinking hard? I mean, I can think hard. Like I’m smart and shit, I think. I went to college… or am I in college? I forget. What was I doing? Oh yeah, the test. I can think but I guess I prefer not to?

Yes [ ] / No [-]

You want countless children

Do I want children, bro? Uhhh, I don't think so. I've never really thought that far ahead, bro, huhuhu. I mean, I'm too busy with college right now, you know, having a blast and getting laid with all the boys I could possibly dream of. I don't have time for any of that family stuff, bro. I'm living my best life in the moment, and kids are not in the picture right now, that's for sure. It’s a “no”, bro.

Yes [-] / No [ ]

Fuck! Did I click "yes"? Words are so fucking hard sometimes, bro. All the letters just get all jumbled up in my head. But hey, I know how to read, though! I'm not stupid or nothin'. I'm studying Engli… I mean, I'm studying… I'm studying business. And business is for bros who have brains. And I have a brain, bro! It's just that sometimes my thoughts get a little lost, you know? But I'm smart and I know it. Gotta keep that confidence, bro!

You feel the primal urge to breed and impregnate as many girls as possible

Fuck, just reading that made me so hard bro. Why am I thinking of big bouncing tits. Stop, I’m gay! Get that shit outta ma head bro. Fuck… imagine some bimbo sliding down my 8 inch cock bro… no! Not… straight. Don’t want to… breed… girls and… impregnate them… with my alpha seed. No… fuck i’m gonna bust bro. No! Just… don’t think about… don’t think about BIG BOUNCING BOOBIES.

Yes [-] / No [ ]

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

I busted a fat nut all in my boxers, bro. It’s a sticky mess down there. I could clean it up but… fuck it, it’ll be fine.

I look up at the screen and see the words

SUBMITTING RESULTS

RETRIEVING BREEDR PERSONALITY PROFILE

I stare at the loading screen, my mouth agape as drool trickles out and onto my big, bouncy pecs. Just seeing that loading circle spin puts my brain at its maximum capacity, bro. It's like my whole world has become this little circle, and I can't focus on anything else. All I can think about is what my result is gonna be, and I'm so damn excited to find out. It's like waiting for the game-winning touchdown in the last seconds of the Super Bowl, bro. I can feel the anticipation coursing through me, and my heart's pounding like crazy. I can't wait to see what kind of bro I'm gonna be, dude!

YOUR BREEDR PERSONALITY IS…

FRAT

FUN-LOVING

ROWDY

ACTIVE

THOUGHTLESS

Fuck, bro! This personality test is so fuckin' accurate, man! It's like they peeked into my brain and saw every little thing about me. It's crazy, bro! I feel like I'm seeing my own reflection, dude. How the hell do they do that? It's like some sort of magic or something, huhuhu.

I gotta share this with the bros, man. I’ll post the link in the University LGBT club’s groupchat huhuhu. It’ll be funny to see what kinda BREEDR personalities they’ll get.

Anyway, dude, I gotta get ready. Me and the frat bros are hittin' up the Freshman Fair today. Gonna go hang out with Jamie and see how many hot babes we can impregnate, bro. It's gonna be a sick day, man!

How about a jock twinning tf?👀

Looking alike, talking alike, then thinking alike

FML: Match

He never really stood a chance. The moment he walked into our new apartment together his days were numbered. No guy, and I mean no guy, can resist me for long. How could they, when it just feels so good to be me. He tried though. That first week he was a real prick. He would complain about my stuff everywhere, scoff at my friends, and try to cover up my scent. But 24/7 with me around starts to have an effect. I caught him picking up my stuff and stealing a quick sniff before throwing it in my room. The candles sat abandoned in his room. A pair of my boxers went missing. I finally caught him on week three. He was sitting, zoned out in the living room. It’s always so cute the first time they try to embrace it. Sprawled out on the floor, my boxers loose around his legs, hat backwards on his head. He already had a little beard going.

He didn’t even bother getting up when I came in. He was lost in the scent of me, and his body was trying everything to become what it was not.

“Get up!” His body came to as he snapped to attention. He tried making excuses, his face was a mix of confusion and horror at what he was wearing.

“I am so sorry, I have no idea… what’s happening? What are you doing to me?!?”

“I’m just living it up bro, you’re the one sitting in my underwear. You trying to be all of this?” I flexed my biceps in front of him, watching his body begin to pulsate. “Just flex bro. Let it out, let me out.” His arms curled and posed, copying my form. His forearms exploded with muscle, as he began to shout:

“No, please, let me go.”

“You can leave at any time, you just have to want to.” I struck another pose, popping my pecs and flexing my abs. He moved in unison with me, his stomach sucking in as abs pushed out. Pecs punched out of his chest with force as his torso stretched to copy mine.

“Please… I don’t want this. Why- how are you doing this?”

“It’s easy little bro,” I sat into a deep squat. His eyes rolled back in his head as his lower body erupted. Muscle tore through him, filling out calfs, thighs, and ass all at once. “I’m what every guys wants, what everyone craves to be. My scent, my hormones, my whole aura has been filling you for weeks. I’ve been inside. You’ve just got to let me out. Now,” I stood back up, his body parodying along like a puppet. His body was ready, even when his mind was not, “FLEX.” I hit a double-bicep pose.

“Ah…AuGH-AHHHGAUH!”

I was let loose from inside him.

It was like looking in a mirror. Fuck, I’m a stud. He was spacing out:

“Bro… no, fuck. Why, why do I sound like that?”

“You’re getting the full package little bro. You are going to look, sound, smell, think, and fuck just like me. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He shuddered in response. Immediately his cock began swelling, snaking down his leg. His mind was saying no but his body was saying yes. By now his balls were pumping him full of my hormones, invading his mind and filling him with my horny thoughts. Hands gripped his cock as he began jerking off in front of me, speeding up his transformation. Drool dripped from his open mouth and rolled down his chest.

“No, please. Why-why does it… feel…so…goooood? Hu-ungh-uhhhHHHh…”

He was riding the waves of pleasure as they engulfed his brain. He never stood a chance against me, but it was still so hot to watch him submit to his fate. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, and slowly I watched the lights go out upstairs. He was just like me now. No, better. He was me now. It was time. I walked up and pulled his hands from his cock, and replaced them with mine. I furiously began jacking him off as his brain short circuited and he just writhed in pleasure.

“Ha-hahu-ugh-huhuhuhuuuu-uHH-“

I leaned in, and planted one kiss on his sweaty brow and commanded:

“Now CUM.”

Instantly he let loose, hitting the back wall. It covered my hands, just adding to the lubrication as I finished him off. Rope after rope flew across the room, until he was shooting blanks still thrusting against my hands. He slowly slumped to the floor

“How you feeling bro?” I asked him

“Huuuuuuh…fuck bro I’m spent. You’re a god. How do you manage to get that much out of me every time?”

I chucked a bit. “I know all the right buttons to push bro. I just do what I would do to me.”

“God, I’m not gonna be horny for a week”

“Pfft, knowing you? I give it an hour.”

“God we’re so hot bro…”

The question caught me a bit off guard. Did he… no. There wasn’t any part of him left that would know what just happened to him. I leaned in and gave my new doppelgänger a kiss:

“Yeah we are, bruh.”

kyle