Watch Where Youre Going! Snapped The Businessman, Sam Milton, The Newly Made CEO Of His Fathers Business.

“Watch where you’re going!” snapped the businessman, Sam Milton, the newly made CEO of his father’s business. Hot coffee spilled over his suit as he quickly wiped away, glaring at the speedo wearing shirtless and skimpy man in front of him that had bumped into him. They held a rainbow flag in hand as Sam instantly knew he was from the pride parade that was nearby.

“Sorry mate,” came the relaxed and British sounding voice of the shirtless man, Sam felt he saw him somewhere as a model, but he wasn’t sure why he would ever remember that as he glared at him, as a barista came rushing over.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Milton, sir, could I get you a new order?” questioned the barista quickly, Sam shrugged.

“It’s fine, not like he put anything in the coffee,” Sam joked as he took a sip, not ever noticing the slightly tangy taste that came from the hot substance inside as he finished wiping himself off before leaving.

On the way to work, he found himself finishing the coffee before finally entering his office, sitting down with the skyline behind him, his assistant had already left a stack of files and things to do. Sam started to get to work, reviewing reports, as he started to find himself sweat. It was small at first, droplets on the back of his hand before beads started to run down his forehead. “Why isn’t the AC on?” Sam muttered, coughing as he noticed the odd gruffness off his voice, he started to unbutton himself, taking off his tie.

And then his dick started to become erect. Sam shuffled and stifled in his seat as thoughts of the parade came across his mind, not realising that he had been straight before, he just had a date yesterday! His hand slowly started to find itself on his thigh, wanting to inch closer and closer to his needy cock, he shouldn’t be doing this at work of all places, but his mind could barely respond, and his fingers grew closer and closer, coiled towards the very edge of his length and then-

“Sir,” A knock came at the open door, as his assistant stood firm in the doorway, giving them a warm smile. Sam instantly picked his hand away, focusing on them as best he could, only thinking about his body, those fuckable lips…Why was he thinking about that? Damn it, he needed to focus!

“Yes?” Sam’s voice sounded odd and distorted, he coughed to try and cover it up, wondering what was happening as sweat continued to sheen off skin.

“The investor, Mr. Clarke is on the line, the one to call about our next quarter,” informed the assistant, Sam nodded as they gave him one last smile before walking away back to their desk and closing the door behind them. Sam instantly picked up the phone.

“Hello, this is Mr. Milton,” Sam’s voice only grew rougher and rougher, as he felt his hand clutched around his cock through his suit pants, unable to stop himself as he started to see his hand, slowly growing paler and paler, the fingers felt longer as they started to grow and expertly maneuvered around his head.

“Mr. Milton, is it? I’m Julius Clarke of Clarke Foundations, I just wanted to speak to you briefly…” The voice paused as Milton couldn’t help but emit a low groan as he could feel his other hand starting to grow larger, wrapping around the phone in his hand as his other teased the head of his lengthening cock, starting to slither down towards his thighs as the first tears at the seams of his pants could be heard. “Mr. Milton, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just getting a-head-” Sam yelped as his fingers stroked over the tip of his cock, the more they played with him, the more he felt himself growing as more rips were spreading in his pants, revealing more of the muscular mass of his legs underneath that started to grow, “of myself. Carry on.” Sam quickly stuffed a fist into his mouth as he started to see his cock poke through the top of his boxers and pants, throbbing as the suit pants were shedding away.

“As some of you know, some of our recent investors have been a pain in the ass-” Sam almost fell from his chair, now his knuckle stone white as it grabbed at the edge of his desk, feeling his chair pushed away slightly from under him as Sam felt his cheeks spread apart, hairs growing on the back as they began to grow and tear away the Calvin Klein boxers and seat of his pants. “And not to mention the fact that they’ve been clearly ripping us off.” The rest of the pants ripped away as Sam felt his thighs thickening, growing in muscularity as they became lean and long, stretching out beyond the desk and causing Sam to fall on his knees, only his office shirt on as he resisted the urge to moan at the feeling of his calves growing.

“Yeah, we- we should come-” Sam felt his cock twitch, still growing in girth and elongating as it flopped down between his legs, looking paler and larger as pre-cum dripped. “I mean, get over there and sort…sort it out.” Sam couldn’t breathe if he kept talking, trying to stop himself from panting and groaning as he felt his feet start to crawl forward, looking over his shoulder as his dress shoes began to split, the black shiny soles as his large pale feet started to poke through.

“Exactly, now I think you could be a strong competitor,” started the investor, the moment he said strong, Sam felt his arms flex themselves, needlessly watching the rest of the buttons from his tight shirt spray into the air as they were flexed off. Sam had always been fit, but this was something else as he started to cup his new pecs that became extremely large, swelling to the point where he could barely believe they were real. The muscular power flowed through his stomach, his once lean abs now became stronger and sturdier, growing and thickening as they were now deep crevices in his stomach. “I’m hosting a gala soon, where we could discuss this with some other members who are interested in a coalition of sorts, would you be interested?”

“Sorry,” Sam couldn’t tell if he was apologising to the investor for the noises or the meeting as he felt himself near writhing on the ground, the phone still barely in hand as he continued sweating, his cock throbbing.

“Ah, that’s a shame, I was having some people coming all the way from Britain,” It was then Sam started to find his mind rearranging, new accents and words fading in and out as he couldn’t even remember what it was like to start speaking with an American accent, his own groans and muffled moans started to sound different in his deep voice that lingered on with a new London accent. “Well, I will speak to you soon then, here’s hoping you can still come.” With that, everything went blank, business, statistics, stock prices, and so much more as Sam saw nothing but white as his dick throbbed and delivered the best orgasm of his life, spraying and coating his entire body and desk with his own cum, every single orgasm erasing Sam Milton as the American businessman, now replaced with the London model as he began to moan out loud, writhing in his own pleasure as he came again…and again…and again.

“Oh fucking hell mate, where the fuck am I?” Sam muttered to himself as he started to look around, standing up behind his desk now as a naked muscular hunk dripping with cum and sweat.

Some time had passed after the incident, Sam couldn’t remember what he was doing that day but now found himself too busy to care. The business was taken over by his father until his son was “feeling better”. His dad now started going to the same coffee shop as he did with the same guys who came from the same parade every year. It was only a matter of time before he followed his son’s footsteps.

As for Sam Milton, well he now found himself posing on the billboard across from his old office, modelling for the makeup company; Clarke Foundations. 

CALL ME RICK

I had no idea how quickly Richard would take to the mind control. Not to mention how completely invested he was in this new persona.

Richard had been dating my sister for a year or so now. He was a good guy, a model citizen if you will. He was a nice, friendly happy go lucky sort of guy. Not to mention he was very handsome, but was very modest about it. We didn’t talk much but when we did he was always super friendly and tried to get to know me as best as he could. He knew I was gay and had no problem with it, he wasn’t weirded out like some of my sisters ex boyfriends had been. Honestly he was a really stand up guy. The problem was me. I have a serious problem. It’s kind of a strange fetish that I’m into and have always wanted to try on Richard.

Ever since high school I’ve found myself interested in hypnosis. I really enjoy watching a person, preferably and attractive man, go completely under then have their mind and personality altered. The more drastic the alteration usually the more arouse I get. This was why Richard would be the perfect subject, and I think I just found the perfect time for it.

I came to him and my sister about a problem I had. I needed to haul some stuff over from a friends house but they lived about 2 hours away and I needed a truck to do so. Richard offered right away to use his truck, which I knew he would. The. He even offered to come with me as kind of a bonding trip. This was exactly what I wanted to hear I graciously accepted the offer and the next morning we were on our way, just the two of us on the open road.

About an hour of the ways out, I finally brought up the subject of hypnosis. I asked if he’d ever been hypnotized and Richard kind of just laughed. He assumed hypnosis was just a bunch of tricks on tv, and that it couldn’t possibly work. I explained to him how interested I was in the subject, and he suddenly changed his tune. I guess he really wanted us to get along so he even offered if I’d like to try it on him. Everything was going so smoothly. I asked him to pull over so I could drive while I induct him into the trance. I didn’t want him falling asleep behind the wheel. I told him to watch the road as I slowly pulled him deep under control. He had been counting backwards from 20, but he barely made it to 8 before falling completely under. That’s when I started taking apart his personality and then piecing things back together, but piecing them the way I wanted.

I knew exactly what persona I wanted I give Richard the moment I met the guy. I wanted Richard to be the most Texan, masculine, hickish, cowboy he could be. As stereotypically sexy as I wanted. I started manipulating his speech first, making him think of westerns, and how the cowboys he has seen on tv would speak. Giving him a southern drawl. Then his attitude, I wanted him to feel like a proud Texan baron and raised all american cowboy. His ignorant, and rude attitude to be prominent, and his masculinity to be very important to him. I told him he would ease up on shaving, to avoid that clean shaven look he normally wore. I gave him love for hard work, nicotine, alcohol, and last but most importantly me. See, the thing about my hypnosis is that in the end I like to give my subjects an insatiable list for me. Because once they have changed there personality this much, all I want to do is fuck there manipulated brains out.

I pulled out a hat that I snuck into the glove department just for this occasion. I placed it on Richards head and told him that whenever he wore that hat he would become the person that I had been hypnotizing him to become.

He groggily nodded, “Ahuh, becomes that person.. When wearing hat..”

Unfortunately, the induction took longer then I thought and we were almost back home. I didn’t want to see this new persona of his until after he was ready, I gave him a shopping list of things he needed to discretely buy and then we would meet back up in two weeks time. That he would make an excuse to go with me somewhere so my sister wouldn’t get suspicious. He gave me the same groggy nodding as before but I’ve hypnotized enough people to know that I ha gotten through to him, I was getting so excited about this new personality I could barely stand it.

Two weeks of waiting were agony but I knew it would be worth it. I hadn’t seen Richard since then so I wasn’t positive if he’d done what I’d asked or not, but then I got a call from my sister. She told me that Richard was ready to go whenever I was and that I had offered to help him haul some cinderblocks to the dump since he helped me last week, she thanked me for being so helpful and was glad we were getting along so well. She had no idea.

I showed up at the house and when I saw him I could already see he had accomplished one of the things if asked him to do which was his facial hair had grown in. He had a duffle bad in hand with what I assumed was the items I asked him to get on my list. We took off in Richards truck. Richard still acting like himself completely unaware that he was doing all this under hypnosis I had placed on him. I was currently wearing the hat that I had basically infused what would be Richards new personality with. I waited until we were a bit a ways before I started complaining about my hat and how it didn’t fit me. Then I suggested he try it on, at first he just smiled and kindly refused. But I was so persistent and nagging about it, that he finally gave in. He placed the cap on his head and then suddenly his whole body stiffened and the car jeered a little at the sudden change in person. He blinked a few times then pulled the truck over.

“Something wrong Richard?” I asked feigning ignorance.

He looked over at me, his for head wrinkled in a confuse look that wasn’t like Richards normal happy face “You’re goddamn right there is, what kinda pansy ass shit m'I wearin?” He said looking down in disgust at his buttoned down collared polo and khakis.

“Beats me, here why don’t you try these on while I make a quick phone call,” I said handing him the duffle bag dull of the clothes if told Richard to buy. I stepped out of the truck and walked away to call my sister, and tell her that it might be well because were having car troubles. But I told her we had it under control but we might not make it back until late. I didn’t want her getting suspicious while I had my fun.

When I walked back Richard was sitting on the back of the truck completely decked out in his new Southern cowboy attire I made him buy, and was even smoking one of the cigarettes he had packed as well. He looked damn hot I could feel the blood rushing to my cock just looking at him. He took a drag blew out another stream of smoke before noticing me, then spit on the ground before waving me over.

“Hey Richard, feeling more comfortable in those clothes I hope.”

He responded by flipping me off while taking another drag, “Aye fuck you, call me Richard. What kinda bitch name is Richard?”

I laughed a little at how quickly he had become so appalled by his old life that even his name wasn’t manly enough for him anymore.

“My bad Rick. I forgot to mention I am loving the new tattoo.” I said just noticing the tattoo he now had on his right bicep that was visible now thanks to his sleeveless Texan shirt. His eyes glanced down to his new ink and then he smirked at me while flexing his bicep.

“Goddamn right,” he said continuing to flex and show off his new ink, “Got this innkeeper done about a week ago, Karen got all pissed off about when she first saw. She’ll quit her bitching soon though, I think she secretly likes it anyway.”

“I know I do.” I said a little flirtatious this time. I was ready to see how much of this hypnosis had gone through.

His smirk widened as he patted the seat next to him, “C'mere, why don’t ya take a load off?” He said blowing more smoke out of the corner of his mouth. I eagerly did as I was told and plopped down next to him.

“Ya know Karen told me you’re queer.” Was his opening sentence. I just nodded in agreement.

“At first that shit creeped me out, but now I get the feelin like I could get into it.” Then Rick grabbed my my hand guided it onto his crotch and had me grasp his junk through his tight jeans.

I looked over at Rick, and our eyes met. I could still see underneath this Country man bravado he’d been hypnotized to have, he was feeling shy and embarrassed at what he was about to do. He put his cigarette out on one of the cinderblocks then leaned in kissing me roughly.

“Ya better not say shit to your sister about this.” He threatened, but I took him by the back of his head and pulled him in for another quick kiss.

“Don’t worry cowboy, it’ll be our little secret.” I said as I pulled Ricks shirt up over his head admiring his muscles as he flexed and showed them off for me. He unbuckled his pants and then I reached down to pull off one of his board. Slowly removing them one by one and massaging his feet with my tongue, tasting his sweat as Rick started moaning and pulling off his pants completely, then as he stood there butt naked his picked me up carrying me. As I felt myself up against his naked buff torso, my hard cock scraping against his body. He lay me down across the seats in his truck and straddled me.

“Imma ride you’re ass so hard right now, you’re gonna be hollering something fierce.” He said in his sexy southern drawl. As he burrowed his cock deep inside of me, I moaned and shouted only to be muffled by Ricks mouth as he kissed me shutting me up and filling me with more pleasure. After Rick finally released the last of his juices inside of me he hovered over me his sweat trickling down from his muscles body. He wiped some sweat from his brow then pulled out another cigarette lighting it up and he pulled on his jeans and buckled his belt.

The rest of out trip was fun too, Rick pretty much did all the work throwing out the blocks of cinder, and I kind of just admired his strong body going to work. He knew I was watching too, because every once in awhile he would give me a really cocky smirk and a wink. Then on the ride back he had me give him a blow job while he blasted his country music to drown out the sound of his moans and shouts.

We made it home late that night, I gave Rick one more kiss before saying good by then I took off his hat and the look of confusion on Richards face was priceless, he looked down at his clothes in horror then looked at me his eyes wide and crazy.

“Something wrong Richard?” I asked feigning ignorance.

“I just.. How did I get here. And what am I wearing?” He breathed I to his hand took a whiff, “Have I been smoking?”

I laughed, “Woah Richard, buddy, I told you not too drink that much.”

His eyes got bigger, “I’ve been drinking? But.. I don’t even remember..”

“All day actually. I guess that’s why the call it black out drunk. You should probably go home and get some rest.” I suggested.

“Oh man.. Yeah you’re probably right.. Oh no, Karen! She’s going to be furious when she finds out be been drinking all night, first my tattoo and now this! She is going to kill me!”

I smiled at him reassuringly, “Don’t worry about it Rick, it’ll be our little secret.”

Can u do like one with a dorky geek being forced against his will to be turned into a jock and become like the star quarterback for the team like me

“You see, the problem with modern society is that, suddenly, all the emphasis has shifted from physicality and physical endeavours to cerebral enterprises and the furtherance of technology.  Societally speaking, that can only lead to a slow downfall of everything we, the human race, have ever built.  We have to get back to basics!”  On each word of the last sentence, the man banged the meat of his palm on the desk in front of him, emphasizing each point.  His gaze, however, never wavered from the array of students sitting in front of him.  His eyes swept the room, as if daring anyone to disagree with him.  He held the menace in his teeth, playing the silence out, and suddenly relaxed, shifting entirely into another mode, that of easy-going, affable Coach.  “But the pendulum swings, boys, the pendulum always swings.  One extreme to the other, and boy, when it comes,” he chuckled, swaying his head and clicking his tongue, “it’s gonna come hard.” 

The bell sang its saw-song through the air, jarring everyone from their respective trances.  Matthew snorted, turning to his friend.  “Are you kidding me?  One logical fallacy after another.  And that pseudo-social science he was spouting?  Did you even hear that?  Why did we even have him in class today?  What was that supposed to teach us?”

Sanjay shook his head.  “Which one do you want me to answer first?”

“Any.  None.  It doesn’t matter.  Just doesn’t make any sense.  Why have the coach of the football team lecture us on how intelligence and critical thought and technological know-how is actually, you know, in disguise, the downfall of human civilization!  Oh, yeah, let’s prize barbarity and tout physical achievement as opposed to …”

Honestly, Sanjay tuned him out.  Sure, Matthew was his friend.  Yeah, he was smart.  Probably one of the smartest kids in the school, but he had a demanding, needy persona that was just sometimes hard to bear.  He could be arrogant, almost preening, constantly displaying his prodigious vocabulary and scorning anyone who didn’t reach his impossible standards.  Still, better to have him on your side, Sanjay reasoned, than not.

“So, yeah.”  Matthew tossed his hair back from his eyes.  He’d been letting it grow long, some rebellion thing.  “Wanna watch foreign films tonight?”

“Uh,” God, again?  He had a passion for subtitles that bordered on the pathological.  Sometimes, he’d even quote the French when the appropriate time arrived.  “I can’t, tonight.  Family … thing.”

“Oh.  Okay.  Well, a toût a l’heure, mon ami!”

“Seeya,” Sanjay moved off into the hallway throng.  “Weirdo.”

o

The faint, overlapping sound of calls and cries, short and shouted, that echoed from the field.  Some grunting.  Matthew hated that, in order to walk home, he had to follow the small sidewalk around the back side of the school and around a fairly large chunk of the football field.  He usually had his earbuds in, and today was no exception, with Einstürzende Neubaten playing (and only because of the name) in his ears.  He tapped his hands idly against his thighs as he walked, tapping out a badly-timed beat to the song he was listening to.  His eyes he kept firmly fixed ahead.  He refused to look at the game in progress, or the training, or whatever.  Can’t deny that his eyes did flick to the left, but he didn’t turn his head, so that doesn’t count.  Or so he reasoned.

Out of all the sports, Matthew hated football the worst.  He could make concessions for “real” football, or soccer, if he was pressed, but American football, the NFL, all of it, just left a bad taste in his mouth.  Stupid celebrity body-glorifying inane banal moronic and, on one occasion, mentally retarded, were all words that came out of his mouth whenever confronted with the topic.  Team sports on a whole repelled him: the whole notion of conforming to a set, of being reduced to a function, caused him to shiver way down deep inside his skinny body.  He was furiously proud of his body, liked that he could slip in and out of places unnoticed.  He wore mostly blacks and grays for the same reason.

Of course, he was bullied.  What kid isn’t?  Matthew is no idiot.  He’s read books, seen movies, he knows.  The bully does it because the bully feels like he’s inferior in some way, is over-compensating.  Yeah, he knows the “why,” but the “what” keeps happening.  Physical threats.  He’s been tripped, kicked, spat at.  He does not let himself break to the bullies.  He knows that he is superior to them, and one day, they’ll be pumping his gas.  The knowledge of this certain future is enough to glaze and harden the sneer on his face whenever he runs into them.  

He looked up just in time, swerving to miss the outstretched hands of one of his classmates.  He didn’t even have time to notice which one it was.  All he saw was a wide grin and the palms of the hands, and the world yawed above him, sky to treetops to treetrunks to dead leaves on the ground, and he was falling, poorly, ungainly and akimbo, ass over teakettle, and rolling, crashing through various underbrush, skinning his palms on ill-placed rocks, the world became a splatter of color on a palette, and then turned to gray fuzz as he came to a halt.

“Whoa, kid, kid, holy fucking …”  Someone had rushed to his side, but Matthew couldn’t tell who it was.  His eyes were unfocused, his ears were slamming loud carillons of hiss and bells, he throbbed, nearly all over.  He thought, well, nothing’s broken, and remembered relief.  He cracked his mouth and a strange noise flopped out, like a broken bassoon.  “Are you OK?  Did you just fall?”

“Stupid … question,” Matthew said, and passed out.

o

He woke up at home.  In his own bed.  His posters on the wall, his strange Russian propaganda posters, his vintage movie posters.  He still throbs all over.  That part wasn’t a dream.  This is, however, that weird murky space between waking up and really waking up.  Surfacing, sort of, through the shallows.  He remembered … falling.  He remembered … being pushed!  His head is like an anvil factory.  Jabs of clanging pain twinned to his heartbeat.  He groaned, and ground his hand, hard, into his left eye.  The pain did not abate.  He rolled over, the sheets followed, and he untangled himself, with some amount of confusion.  There was a slightly heavy … slightly wet smell in the air, almost as if someone drenched in cologne had been there recently.  It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, Matthew thought murkily, then shook his head violently.  No!  It was awful!  It smelled like a locker room.  How the fuck did he get home?  He reached for his phone, which was where he always kept it, on the night stand next to his bed.  He thumbed it open.  No missed calls.  No new text messages.  The time was 10:30pm., on whatever day.  He idly thought he might have amnesia.  It was dark, and he could hear the crickets sawing feverishly away outside his window.  He felt a stab of hunger, and slowly swung his legs out of bed. 

The anodyne glow of the big-screen television was near-blinding as Matthew limped down the stairs.  Weird, he thought.  No one in this house is usually awake at this hour.  He moved closer to inspect.  No one on the couch.  Not a sign that anyone had been there, actually.  It was all very Roanoke.  He half-expected to find “CROATOAN” carved into the coffee table.  It gave him a little, dull chill.  As he moved closer, the sound of the television grew louder, and the picture seemed to clear, resolving from white noise to figures, moving back and forth on the screen.  The white noise resolved into the sound of … an audience?  Matthew squinted at the screen, came even closer, outstretched a finger to prod at its surface, delicately.  Then he backed up, shaking his head, chortling.  “C’mon,” he said out loud, the sound of his voice flat in the living room.  “Don’t be a moron.” 

It was a game on the television.  A football game.  NFL, from the looks of it.  Uniforms … orange and white and orange and black.  The, uh … Broncos and the Browns.  Right.  That’s a lot of orange.  I didn’t even know we got this channel.  What channel?  Oh, ESPN, right.  The football’s pretty fucking elusive, doesn’t seem like anyone can get a handle on - oh, there we go.  That guy’s running.  He’s got the ball.  Feels like something’s going to happen.  Oh, hey, this guy’s coming out of the, no, no, he’s gonna make it he’s - oh.  Nope.  That guy jumped on top of him and he wasn’t close to the end zone.

Matthew felt a strange sense of disappointment, almost deflation.  He cracked his neck to one side and frowned a little.  The players were reassembling.  Some of them look kinda goofy.  The uniforms are kinda cool.  I mean, sorta.  It’s like armor, or something.  Representing … uh, like, houses, or … hey, they’re playing again. 

He found his muscles tightening, his hands forming into fists, as the football was snapped into play.  His eyes watched it as it described its arc over the field, soaring, spiralling, toward the eager and outstretched hands of – and

“INTERCEPTION!” 

Matthew snapped back to himself with all the force of a comet smashing into Siberia.  He blinked, blinked again, and then shook his head.  Was that something rattling around up there?  Jesus, he must’ve hit hard.  He should get some more sleep.  Was he just watching football? 

And … was there a moment there, just a moment, where he … kinda enjoyed it?

o

“Day 2,” Sanjay mimed a gun at his temple, lazing back in his chair.  The windows were open, and a light breeze sashayed in.  “Seriously, though?  Mandated physical education in the form of indoctrination?  Not sure that’s what they had in mind, but … hey, it’s gettin me out of class, right?”

“Yeah,” Matthew mumbled.  He was still kind of out of it, bruised up and scraped pretty badly, but with no lasting injuries.  “Sorry,” he said.  “I must’ve really rattled my brains in that fall.  Shit…”  He dropped his pencil and fumbled around under the desk for it.  “I’ve been so clumsy, today, too…”

“Maybe you got a concussion or something, man.  You should check in with the nurse.”

“Naw, it’s … I slept, last night, so, I don’t think it’s a, uh, you know.  That.  Man, this headache.  I keep taking all this aspirin.”  He shook out a pill from a plain white bottle.  “Don’t know if it’s actually helping, or what.”

Sanjay cocked his head at his friend and shrugged.  “Suit yourself.  Your funeral.  And I wouldn’t take so much advil, man.  Five, at the most.”

The door to the room slammed shut, and the coach walked in.  He never wore street clothes, or, if he did, his street clothes were the same as his regular clothes: basketball shorts and t-shirt, sneakers and socks.  He was a younger man, probably in his early 30s, with a corded, muscular body and a commanding presence lightened only by an aloof affability.  “Welcome back,” he said, and the room immediately quieted.  His eyes swept the room again, much in the same manner as before, as if surveying a course of meats.  “I - “ he stopped as his eyes fell on Matthew.  “Matt,” he said.  “Hope you’re feeling better.“

“It’s Matthew,” he said clearly.  “And yeah, I’m fine.  No thanks to the guy who shoved me.  And I will find out who that is,” he added venomously.  “And when I do, you can be sure I’ll be taking it to the proper author - uh - “

The coach seemed expectant, then shook his head and continued.  “Well, recent drama aside.  We’re here today to talk about the benefits of fitness, and how being physically fit is important in all ways, and, in some ways, how it is the most important.  Your brain won’t function if your body isn’t fed, right?  And we feed our bodies by giving it nutrition and exercising it just like we would a machine.  Sometimes … those machines need a tune-up.  I bet most of you here need a tune-up or two.”

“Not me, Coach!’  Brody piped up.  Matthew’s eyes skated over to him.  He was the QB.  He was just over six-foot and weighed twice what Matthew did.  He sat in his desk and possessed it of a gawky adolescent superiority.  His voice was deep and his face was shadowed around 5 o’clock.  “I’m runnin’ on all cylinders.”  He lifted his arms and flexed.  Most of the class groaned, some of the girls looked sideways, and a paper ball or two was tossed.

“Yeah, well, simmer down there, Bro.  It is true, Brody is at his peak physical form for his body type and his age.  That’s something you can all aspire to.”

Matthew felt dizzy.  The top of his scalp itched.  His throat itched, felt swollen.  He glanced at the back of his hand.  He watched it detachedly as it rose of its own accord, sleepily at first, then erect as a flagpole, fingers straight, unmoving.  “Yes, uh, Matthew?”

His words sounded, to his own ears, as if they had been dredged out of him.  “How do we .. uh, do that?”

The coach stared at him for a minute, inscrutably.  “Good question, Matt.”  Matthew let the name go, almost like a bullet in slow motion past his ear, creating auditory ripples in through his ear and passing through his brain - “Well, we can work out, we can play a sport and join a team - shameless plug, football team still needs some good bodies, signup sheet’s outside the door - but there’s lots of different ways to achieve your physical potential.

“You really don’t look so good,” Sanjay commented.  “And what was that all about?”

“Nothin,” Matthew said.  He felt drunk.  “I, uh, it’s fine.” 

The class continued, and Matthew sat there, silently, eyes fixed ahead.  The buzz and pound in his head continued.  It was almost as if the dream he’d had about watching football on the television was still playing, projected on the inside wall of his skull, and he was hearing it from far away.

o

The bell announced in its shrill, strident way, the end of class.  Matthew filed out with the rest, past the coach as he was erasing the whiteboard.  “Matt,” he heard, and he stopped.  “I just wanted to … are you OK?”

“Yeah,” he heard himself say.  “I’m good.”

“Well, you had a nasty spill.  You said someone pushed you.  You hit your head and you scraped yourself up, but nothing was broken.  We used your phone and called your roommate and they came and picked you up.”

“Oh,” Matthew said.  “It’s Matthew, you know.”

“What?”

“You keep, uh, callin me Matt.”

“Well, I guess it’s just easier.  Just a nickname.  What’s so wrong with Matt?”

“It’s, uh.  It’s not my, uh.  Yeah.  Whatever.  Look, I - “

“Want to sign up for the football team.”

“… Huh?”

“I’m joking.  What’s up?”

“I, that question I asked.  Maybe I should, you know.  Work out.  So I don’t, you know, ‘fall,’ anymore.”

“Hey, Matt, that’s a great idea!  Not to mention it’ll really help build up your confidence.  Who couldn’t use some of that, huh?”

“Right,” he agreed, a little uncertain why.  A weird molten surge of … something, was starting to heat up in his stomach.  “Yeah.”

The coach dropped his big hand on Matthew’s shoulder and grinned.  “I’m so glad you want to do this, Matt.  I really think it’ll do you wonders.  How about I take you down to the gym for your free period and show you the ropes?”

“My - how did you know I have a, next?  I didn’t -”

“I get all your schedules.  C’mon, I’ll show you and I promise, you won’t be able to stop once you start.  It really is addicting.”

“Yeah, right,” Matthew mumbled, but was already being ushered to follow by the coach’s arm and hand.  Before he knew it, they were walking down the hallway, out through into the dazzling sunlight, and then back inside via two metal doors with arrowslit-like windows, metal wiring.  The gym.  The echoes began almost immediately.  Basketball sneakers against the floor with their skreek skreeking, rubber on lacquer.  The clang and repeated thud of weights against racks.  A pumping soundtrack, fading in and out. 

“You’ll be right at home,” the coach said.  “Trust me.”

I doubt it, thought Matthew, but Matt’s face was grinning, and Matt’s mouth was saying, “Awesome, Coach.”

o

“So, how’s the recruiting stage going?”

“Great.  Aspirin was a great way to hide it.  No one knows.”

“And after a minor, accidental, spill, pain relief … is somewhat necessary, wouldn’t you say?”

“Brody is a good QB.  He’ll do whatever I tell him to, even if it does include a little … hooliganism. ”

“How about your white whale?”

“Oh, Matt’s doing amazing.  You know, you wouldn’t believe it, but the kid’s twice his size.  We’ll have him on the football team for this coming season, and he’s gonna make a hell of a QB after Brody graduates.  Isn’t even a trace left of who he was.”

“We want to thank you for allowing us to test our new drug out on your student body, as it were, Coach.”

“Well, I understand the need for a return to the fundamentals of society.  If that comes at the expense of some brain cells, well, so be it.”

“Quite right.  Excellent work.  I assume you’ll be having another winning season?”

“Year after year.  Year after year.”

You might like this, @mrrharper

Check out my new story on my side-blog!

Power Couple

---

Thank you all for waiting! Its a tad longer than I've ever written before.

I hope you all like it! Thanks again to @mrrharper for proof-reading!

----

"Hey, Babe?"

"Yes, Chris?"

"Can you help me put this on?" Chris said, motioning over to the little white tube on the counter top.

As Alex walked over into the kitchen, his boyfriend was already taking off his shirt.

"So, what's this for?" Alex asked, inspecting the label on the tube he just picked.

"You know my co-worker Jack right?"

"The gym bunny, right?"

"Yeah that one."

"So what about him?"

"Well. I was chatting with him during my break and he told him I recently started going to the gym, so he offered me this cream."

"Hmm. What's so special about it though? Looks like any ordinary cream to me" Alex remarked after scrutinizing the ingredient list.

"Uh. He said it helped him a lot when starting out. Helps prevent sore muscles and promotes muscle growth or something."

"Anyway, it's getting a bit chilly. Can you lather me up already?"

"Uh yeah sure, sorry"

Squeezing the tube revealed a solid white cream which felt cool to touch. Alex put a sizeable blob on his hand and spread it out on Chris' back much like you would do with sun screen on a hot summer day. It felt like it too. The thin liquid quickly disappeared into his, what looked to be broader, shoulders as he rubbed it in.

"I think I can see your effort pay off a little already babe, your shoulders look a bit broader" Alex noted.

"Really?" Chris asked, glowing from the compliment.

"Of course!" Alex replied smiling back at his boyfriend.

"Well, this is the only start babe" he said with a confident smirk while quickly putting back on his workout shirt.

"That said, time for my workout. Thanks for helping babe" Chris said giving a peck on his boyfriend's cheek before leaving the apartment.

Chris could definitely feel the work of the cream. Like a machine he was pumping through his sets. Usually, he'd feel his limit kick in quickly. However, today he felt like he could pump another extra 2 sets.

Chris wasn't the only that had noticed the change. One of the biggest guys, Scott had made his way over as Chris was still busy pushing out reps.

"Want me to spot for ya, bro?" a familiar baritone called out.

As Chris looked up he was met with Scott's face.

"Uh yeah. Thanks, that'd be great" Chris replied, not expecting Scott to come over.

Scott was the gentle giant you'd always hear of: mind fully set on lifting but always there to help newbies in the gym.

"No problem bro. I noticed you've been in the gym longer than you'd usually be, you getting a feel for it bro? huhuhuh" Scott said, his hands now hovering under Chris' bar.

"Yeah huhuhuh, today's been great. Been lifting so much more than I usually can, I'm really feeling the burn" Chris replied, surprised at the sudden guffaw he'd apparently taken over.

"Bro you should watch your form, your arms are a bit crooked. It'll make your shoulders will really start hurt, bro. Here lemme show you" he said as he helped Chris rack his bar.

"You've gotta make sure sure you spread your arms wider, it shifts the strain back to your chest muscles" Scott said, as he pushed Chris' arms futher apart.

Taking his advice, Chris once again lowered the bar to start benching another set.

"You feel the strain now, bro?" Scott asked while gently pushing down on your pec muscles

"Yeah bro, that definitely makes a difference" Chris grunted as beads sweat started to form on his face.

"I think you can do better than this bro, let's add a plate"

Normally Chris wouldn't have considered it, but today he was on fire.

"Yeah bro, let's do it!"

As Scott loaded up another plate on each side, Chris felt his motivation rise further.

"Come on lil' bro, you almost have it!" Scott hyped up Chris as his last rep.

With Scott spotting him, he managed to break multiple PRs that day. Not only had he done more sets in one session than he usually would but he also managed lift extra weight.

"Good shit bro, huhuhuh" Scott said as he helped rack the bar again.

"Man, I can't believe it went this well today. I hope I'm not too sore tomorrow" Chris said to himself.

"You'll be alright bro. Let's hit the showers" Scott reassured him while putting away the weights.

After putting back all the weights the two of them walked towards the locker room.

"Hey bro, you've got a good pump now. Gotta show it off, you know what I mean?" he said with a slight smirk.

"Come on bro don't be shy, huhuhuh" he said put his hand around Chris' shoulder and leading him to the mirror.

Like an older brother teaching his younger brother Scott took off his sweaty tank and struck a side chest pose.

"You see bro? Like this" he said to the side as he kept looked straight forward to the mirror.

In the reflection he could see Chris acting shy and hesitant.

Taking matters into his own hands he grabbed onto Chris shirt and lifted it over his head in one swoop.

Chris' sweaty body was now fully on display.

"Hey, uh, what"

Chris was stunned. One second he was lost in thought and now he found his shirt was missing laying on the ground.

"See bro, your body looks good" Scott said, as he placed his large paw of a hand on Chris' shoulder.

Having Scott support him felt really good.

He felt like a big bro to Chris, which reassured him.

Quickly, Chris' hesitation started to fade and he started notice the, albeit small, amount of muscle definition that had started develop.

"I look good bro" Chris said, as he now admired his muscles, his mouth almost agape.

"You do bro. Now come on, show off those arms. Ya know, strike a pose, go crazy huhuh"

Without much hesitation this time Chris flexed his left arm. He looked in the reflection as he saw a bump form as he curled his arm.

"Your arm is looking pretty big now bro, right? huhuh"

"Huhuh, yeah bro. This is great"

"You coming again tomorrow bro?"

"You bet."

"Hey babe, how was your workout?" Alex called over from the living room upon hearing the sound of the door opening.

"It was amazing. This jock cream does wonders. I was able to do like two more sets than usual." he explained as he dropped off his gym bag.

"Wow babe, thats great" Alex said, giving Chris a quick kiss.

"Yeah. The biggest guy even came to spot and me gave me some tips about my form. Bro's amazing" Chris explained enthusiastically.

"Look, he even taught me how to a pose" he said, stricking a double bicep pose.

"You like what you see? huhuh" Chris said with a cocky smirk on his face.

"Yes babe, I do" Alex replied, totally turned on by the sexy muscle and newfound confidence.

"Well then. Let's go somewhere you can see some more" Chris winked, eying at their bedroom door.

"Ah... I really overdid it yesterday" Chris groaned in pain.

"Yeah.... You did...." Alex laughed, rubbing his ass cheeks.

Chris put his arm around Alex as they snuggled up together and cuddled for a couple minutes.

"Alex, could you help me put on the jock cream again? I promised bro I'd be there today as well."

"Of course babe, let me grab it."

Upon returning Alex found Chris laying on his back already. Alex never really paid that much attention but his boyfriend really had some nice definition going.

He was also wondering why Chris was saying bro so often now, but in all honesty, he actually found it kinda hot.

Again he put the cream on his hands and started the massage it into his boyfriends skin.

"You like that bro?" Alex said, thinking his boyfriend is just roleplaying.

"Yeah bro, that hits the spot" Chris replied, letting out a soft moan as the soreness of his muscles soothed.

"So, you're gonna lift with your bros today right?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, huhuhuh. You should join bro"

Alex started to think about it.

"Turn around babe, I'll get the front for you as well"

"Thanks babe"

He started fantasizing about becoming a fitness power couple.

"Hmm, perhaps I could try it out some time."

"Bro, no better time than now! Come join me today" Chris said enthuastically.

"I'm not sure yet babe" Alex said, avoiding Chris' gaze.

Noticing that Alex was avoiding looking at Chris he grabbed his arms and flipped him around.

Chris was now on top, pinning down Alex's arms to the matress.

"Come on babe, do it for me" Chris pleaded.

"Okay... Fine" Alex said with a slight giggle.

With a triumphant sigh Chris let go of Alex' arms.

"If I'm going I want to try that cream as well" Alex pouted.

Chris obliged and made sure oil up his boyfriend just as well as he has done for him.

The two oiled up lovers grinned at each other for a moment before starting resuming their cuddle from 15 minutes ago. Whilst cuddling they could feel the slick layer of jock cream rub against each other's skins as it slowly absoorbed into their skins.

"Hey bro, ready for the workout today?" Scott called out at the sight of Chris

"Of course bro, wouldn't want to miss it." Chris replied enthusiastically.

"Lil' bro, who's this?" Scott asked, looking at the newcomer that stood next to Chris.

"This is my boyfriend Alex, Scott. Managed to convince him to go with me to the gym, huhuhuh"

"Nice bro, the more the merrier. The more muscle the better right, bro?" Scott asked Alex who stood awkwardly next to his boyfriend.

"Yeah, bro. Of course" Alex replied.

While it was fun roleplaying with his boyfriend, Alex had to admit it felt kinda embarrased calling Scott a bro. He did however see why Chris said he liked the guy.

"Let's go, broskis" Scott said, heading towards weight room

They started their workouts, going even harder than the day before. The three of them pumped out rep after rep on various machines, aiming to .

"Come on, you can do it. One more rep, just one more" Alex said to hype up Scott as he had already pumped five reps of what seemed to be Alex and Chris' weights combined.

"Nice bro you got this" Chris said, giving Scott a pat on the back.

What Alex thought was just some casual banter between dudes started to worry him now. In his recollection, Chris never said bro before yesterday. If anything his boyfriend not only sounded like a bro but also had started to act like one.

"Hey babe, can I talk to you for a sec?" Alex asked, pulling Chris to the side.

"Ever since you came back yesterday, you've been acting like some frat bro. What's up with that?"

"huhuhuh I guess you're right bro, I have been acting like one"

"There you go again. Chris, what's happening to you?" Alex asked, sounding legitimately concerned now.

Intrigued by the heated conversation Scott had made his way over and put his arms around both men's shoulders. "What's the fuss about bros?"

"I'll tell you what the problem is! 'Bro' this 'bro' that' Alex said angrily as he removed Scott's arm from his shoulder.

"Bro, calm down" Scott said

"I am- uh not a bro!" Alex defended with a slight hesitation in voice.

"Bro, babe, why are you getting so heated? Why not put that energy towards lifting? huhuhuh" Chris said

"Br-babe, I- bro"

Alex could feel his control slipping away.

He felt his brain turn to mush as his worries started to fade.

Bro...

Bro...

Bro...

The more it was repeated, the more Alex lost his way.

Each time he got a step closer.

Step by step.

Until something just snapped.

"Hey bros, why are you just standing there?" Alex asked with a perplexed look on his face.

The fog in his mind had cleared. He was no longer confused.

Alex was a bro. Chris was a bro. Scott was his big bro.

They were always best bros.

"Ah it's nothing bro, you were just being a little dummy" Scott said

"Huhuhuh sorry bro" Alex replied, absently scratching his head

"Let's continue working out, broskis" Chris chimed in.

This time, the trio really managed to finish their workouts. Despite only being a newcomer Alex had been able to lift a huge amount of weight. Normally, one would only be lifting as much if after half a year of consistently working out.

Thanks to the magic of the jock cream however both Chris and Alex could easily push pasts their limits again and again.

Before finishing their workout Chris quickly snapped a pic.

"You two are really becoming a power couple aren't you, broskis? huhuhuh" Scott remarked.

"Huhuhuh yeah bro" Alex said as he continued lifting his barbells.

"Of course bro" Chris chimed in, quickly striking a double bicep pose to show off his gains.