Gearing Up!

Gearing Up!

--- Originally posted by ZacharyEverlust@DA on 2014-11-07 ---

"Dude seriously, you rock!" I smiled, him getting me the limited edition "Rock You" headband of Sol Badguy was the greatest present he could ever gave me.

"Haha no problem man!" He smiled, Zach was an awesome guy despite being slightly peculiar in his obsession with his "stories", I never got to read them much...although some of them were quite interesting.

Ring Ring Ring!

"There goes the bell! See ya later Sean!" He made his way off to his lesson, literature of course. Leaving me to well...suffer, after all, it's P.E. I was never one to exercise frequently, although I managed to keep moderately fit, the rest of the jocks in my class ace the lesson in flying colours. Why do you ask I am in the same class as jocks? I don't know? Maybe its cause my Science is so poorly done that I'm classified with them.

Oh damn it, I'm going to be late...

I quickly changed into a white tee and blue jeans as I made my way to the school's outdo-

"You're late Sean Baker." The Coach humbly replied, and whenever she spouted words so gently like that, it means that someone's in trouble. And it's me.

"You know the drill right?" She smiled, whoever is late by more than five minutes have to run 2 laps around the gigantic track field or until class's dismissed, and if the coach isn't satisfied, you'll have to do 'make-up' sessions after school. Goddamn my luck. I could hear the giggles and snickers of the girls and the football team as I began to jog, trying my best to conserve my energy by not being annoyed by their taunts.

"Huff Puff" I began to jog, normally I wouldn't be one to exercise, but I guess I'm kind of forced to while the others play "simple" games. As I made my way to a quarter of the track, I felt the cool wind pressed against my skin.

"Huff Puff" I began to jog more, increasing my pace every minute, I'm not sure why but the more I jogged, moving my legs, it seemed to be easier and easier every second. "This...isn't...so bad..." I muttered, not noticing shreds of the sleeves of my tee-shirts beginning to fly off with one large RRRRRRIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPP!. Forming into a large, sleeveless, black undershirt with a white cross imprinted on it.

The Changes continued as jeans began to change in colour, turning a pure white in contrast to my shirt, thought becoming slightly baggy. My blue sneakers began to morph into red shoes that were larger and huger than what I used to wear, but allowing me to run faster than ever.

One Lap completed. I can hear the gossiping behind my back as I made my way around the second one, though I can see some of them having shocked expressions. Could it be because I'm faster than usual? U shrugged it off as I continued jogging, no, running.

As I made my way around the next lap, unknowingly, a belt began to form around my waist, tightening by the minute in order to support my new attire, with a belt buckle with the words "FREE" implemented on it. Finally, as the wind grew stronger and stronger, it began to materialise a jacket, a red sleeveless jacket, wrapping around my body tightly.

As I began to finish the lap, I finally realised my changed attire...and my improved body. It had a tan which symbolised glory and fitness while enough muscles to maintain the image slightly, and enough muscles to carry me around the two laps...without much effort.

"Whoa! You think your superman?" The Coach laughed, pointing to my new outfit which exposed several parts of my body, which in the past isn't a good thing, but now...

A handful of muscle began to show on the exposed areas, as though I've been working out for quite a while. And with today's progress, I doubt it's just the areas that were exposed. I assume that probably underneath the new fabric lies more lean muscle, which allowed me to succeed in today's "challenge".

"No way, your outfit really shows." A bimbo-tic cheerleader leaned on my arm as she continued to repeatedly squeeze, feeling and enjoying my developing muscles of each of my arms. Although they aren't as big, they do have some definition in them.

"Maybe you should join the football team." The captain nudges my shoulder, pleased with the progress and success I managed to accomplish in today's lesson. I guess this weird change did bring more good than bad, good thing neither of them suspected anything fishy going around in my body.

"Alright Class DISSMISSED!" The Coach yelled from the corner as the students one by one went back into the school, leaving the outdoor gigantic field track, each giving me a glance, with the occasional smirk and hi-fives as they left to their next lesson. "Alright...one lesson down...what's next?" I heaved a sigh of relief, good that everything went well just now, I can only hope this lasts for the rest of the lessons.

Reading the time table with my han.... "Oh shit! There's a test today!" I groaned, I didn't study at all yesterday, and what's worse, is that it's my worst subjects. Sighing as I made my way to the classroom, or should I say, my "hell room".

"Alright Students! You may begin." The Teacher proudly announced as every student began penning down their name, while I'm just searching and scanning for answers in my brain, I need a miracle to even pass this paper.

"Crap Science" I sighed, another one of the challenges of life, not knowing that the headband would help me out even further. I picked up my pen with my left hand...wait, I thought I was right-handed? "Well never mind about that." I thought, as I gracefully wrote down my name onto the piece of test paper, having a better penmanship than before. "Sean Baker." I said, as I finished off the finishing touches of my name and began reading the questions. Unknowingly, more things are about to change over time.

Belts beginning to form around each bicep, tightening by every minute as the clock ticked and ticked. They began to constrict the veins within my arms, removing every imperfection and bacteria which hindered muscle growth. As the process continued, his arms began to swell more and more as the snakes continue to suck the fats out of him, leaving only a chunk of muscle that has the potential to grow.

"Gosh darn it!" I continued to write while bearing the weird sensation on his arms, there was only fifteen minutes left and he could not afford to waste any minute wincing or screaming for attention. He began to sweat, his body began to sweat as he oozed out more and more of his frustration and weakness, as well as any flaw or lack of knowledge of the subject. He began to answer the quiz in record time, not hesitating to slam down the remaining answers with his bare thickening hands.

"Phew! I wonder why I took that long. Although wasn't Science my weakest subject?" I thought to myself as I scanned through the paper for any errors, rectifying them before the bell rang. Unknowingly, the more I thought, the more knowledge began to flow into my head through the headband, even more than the basic subject, skills of engineering, building up machines, and even some skills like sword wielding came to mind. Despite that, there was a side effect I didn't know of, Age Progression.

"Pens down!" The teacher suddenly called, startling me in my thought process, causing me to crush my pen to pieces. "Huh?" I opened my left hand, watching the bits of pieces fall, and the ink smudges drip from my hands. Immediately, my hands were tucked deep into my pockets, deciding to sort it out later than explain it to my friends. Not questioning my much bigger and beefier arms despite them being more prominent than the crushed pen.

Everyone handed in their tests to the teacher before leaving, I followed in suit, trying to blend in with the crowd as I throw away the bits and pieces as I made my way to the bathroom. Not noticing my height increasing along the way, up to 184cm above 6ft tall even, rivalling a basketball. "Crap what's going on?" I began to wash the ink off my dominant hand, finally noticing their new size as...wait, huh?

The ink began spreading wildly on my left hand as I desperately attempt to wash it off with water, sadly it was my biggest mistake. The ink caught hold of my right hand as began to do the same as it did for my left hand, it began to crawl up my arm until it just before reaches my biceps. Materializing as the ink remained as deep black while solidifying until it becomes pure, smooth leather. The ink begins to form a complete shape, turning into thick, huge leather gloves with his non-dominant hand's fingers being slightly exposed, and forming finger-less gloves on the right, normal gloves on the left.

"Whoa!" I stared in astonishment, it's not every day that your hair changes, ace-ing P.E. even though your body is above average, flawlessly completing a science test despite it being the opposite of...well me. Little did I know as I thought of those imperfections, the belts constricting my chest, my waist, the ones on my arms began to glow and pulsate over my whole body.

First was my hair as "raven to brunette" was just the beginning of the change. My hair began to grow longer and longer, until it reached the side of my thighs. As it began to twist and turn, tieing a huge pony tail around the end of my neck. As it becomes tighter, my hair begins to puff up wildly, developing spikes throughout my mane until it was like a hedgehog. "Seriously?" I began to feel my spiked hairdo, feeling a sharp piercing sensation. "Ugh, better not do that again..."

The Second stage has arrived as the belts throughout my body continued to constrict, as though they are multiplying in number near the red drape around my buckle and white jeans. My muscles itched, ached, and began to expand and grow.

First were my legs and feet as they began to toughen up, not just made for running long distances, pressing and leaving imprints on each jean, clearly showing that I have well-defined, muscular trunks holding each feet? Speaking of feet, they began to grow fittingly to the shoes I'm wearing. My pectorals and abs became harder and harder along with my nearly fully developed biceps, giving me a really buff look which seemed like one of an extreme bodybuilder.

Finally, the remaining knowledge of...Gears? And...battling? It's as though I've been battling this whole time, as though I'm meant for battle...Huh?

I ran out of the restroom, trying to avoid the crowd and stares (even some drooling fan girls), as I made my way to my friend.

And Of course, he wasn't any help. Despite my various attempts of reasoning with him, he just seemed to "play dumb" and act as though nothing has been happening, I can feel like I'm growing older, with a matured body and face, as I continue to talk to him.

"Dude, you must be imagining things, you looked completely the same as you did since morning." Zach stared at me with confusion...grrr, godamn it Zach! Frustration boiling in my head as I began to age, becoming older than a guy in his late thirties, heck, I sworn that this body was older than that. Although my features said otherwise, I still looked younger, like a bodybuilder just out of his late twenties, or probably less than that. Probably anyone would agree on the second part...except Zach, damn his obliviousness.

"Zach if you are not going to help me, I'm going to leave." My voice sounding deep and gruff as I walked away from him, he wouldn't understand even if I tried responding to him. "Sean I..."His voice trailing off into nothingness as I walked further and further away... ...

...

...Huh? What's this? Where am I?

"Reality transportation...check."

A voice came nearby.

"Transformation complete...check."

It became louder and louder as a silhouette of a man started to appear before me.

"Mental change...not check."

I recognise him...he is the man known as...Ky Kiske...

"Sol! So glad to finally meet you once more." The Blonde smiled earnestly, as he placed an arm on my shoulder and began to lead me away to...where are we going? He seemed rather pleased with himself, and although I would like to interrupt him, I feel like best if I don't do so.

"Welcome Sol, to my laboratory!" Kiske proudly announced to Sol, not caring that he was slightly out of character to what he was portrayed in the anime. "You'll be working here until your adjustments are complete." Ky handed me a sword...wait, what's it called? Fireseal? Yeah it's the sword I...no Sol would normally carry around in his...battles...Wait, what?

"You must feel a little confused right now, don't worry, in time you'll don't have to worry about THAT other realm anymore." Ky replied calmly, what is he talking about? The OTHER world? Does he mean the world I live in, Earth? Where is this place? Why am I here? But I can't, I'm trapped here aren't I? And they only way out is through that man.

"But I..." I tried to respond and deny him, as a last desperate attempt to stay in the human world, and possibly to be normal aga... "Doesn't the sword give you a purpose in life? Didn't you seek for one so badly?" Ky Kiske smirked as he touched the sword, causing my hand to grip it ever so tightly as though it gives me pleasure...as though it's truly mine.

And honestly...I think Ky Kiske is right, with this sword I don't need to be what I was before, it's better that they just disappear over time...and I become Sol Badguy...unfortunately that may never happen, but I will do my best to adjust anyway, as I played the music on my iPod, I continued my training to defeat the man, even if I don't have a personal grudge against him, Sol does not me...but I will do my best to fulfil his duty.

Well, Time to Rock!

Well this isn't so bad, I mean, I used to hate exercising but this music makes it a whole lot better, now I can see why Sol enjoys the queen so much, it allows him to pump iron all day and fight these simulations of Dizzy, Justice, even Ky Kiske himself. He's an awesome guy I suppose, at least that's what I think.

Well it doesn't matter, I'm rocking in these tests, and I've even mastered the fireseal I thought it would be impossible to accomplish, heck, I'm in bullet Heaven. The tunes and jams of the Queen began to replay in my head from every day's work out, it is an awesome band isn't it? Modern Day pop being replaced with The Queen's singles that lasted for over a decade, not like that shit those youngsters listen to is cool to be honest.

Shit, this is getting boring, doing the same routine every day, I think I even caught myself talking back to those simulations. Hell, what can I do? Ky Kiske made some amazing simulations, even with some effort given to him...well what can I do? These battles are wearing me out, it ain't fun doing the same thing every day. Even with my advanced knowledge of gears and the field of science can't really do much when you are bored to death, with only the Queen's rock keeping you sane.

My patience running thin as I fought more...more...an endless amount of battles. Each opponent would constantly blabber about nonsense that serves no purpose, which really ticks me off. Some people say my attitude began changing to one of a rude and cocky individual, as he spoke little to nothing besides making taunts and witty comments about their appearances. Tch, they're just jealous I'm much stronger than them.

Heh, although, I find it more bearable whenever I respond to them and shout out commands when I fight them, heck, it's quite fun actually.

Although, I did learn to actually feel for others more though...I really understand what they've been through. Like Dizzy, heh, that brat said I've developed a heart as big as my muscles. Well I wouldn't...no, I made sure to show mercy to those who deserved better, it's all That Man's fault after all. I may be a Bounty Hunter, but I ain't one to take the life of a being who truly did no wrong.

Wait...wasn't I called Sean? No, I've been Sol Badguy, the one and only bounty hunter all this time haven't I? Heh, I must be dreaming. I used to say I worried about losing myself, becoming someone different from what I truly am, but wasn't I, me, this whole time? I scoffed, a big strong gear just like myself shouldn't worry over such trivial things, and it just gives me a headache.

Ky Kiske smiled, he finally managed to seal the last bit of transformation in order to balance the time and space. Of Course he wasn't really THE Ky Kiske, but rather, just an observer before he is sent back to the real world with the rest of the Crusaders. He laughed as he opened up the portal, back to the dimension of the dimension with the real Guilty Gears, who said memory alteration wouldn't happen with all the band's music he's been listening in my lab. "However even if he tried, the memories lost were like files deleted from a computer. Of course, Sol Badguy didn't even bother trying. After all..."

Can't you shut your mouth for a second, punk? I've got gears to rust.

"And there goes Se...Sol Badguy, the newly improved one." Zach smirked, knowing his plan has been finally completed.

This Is The Future That Liberals Want

He looked into mirror, starring intently at his reflection and said it, practically as a whisper “bro”

He shuddered violently, instantly experiencing such an intense wave of nausea he had to hold on to the sink to prevent himself from passing out.

He tried to catch his breath and looked back up at his reflection intently. Nothing seemed to have changed except for maybe his rigid posture and the determination in his eyes. Of course his body was going to resist. He was going against everything he was and thought he wanted to be for so long.

But that was about to change. His best friend went though it, the guy he had a crush on most of his life but dared not say it… now he was something completely different, something they used to despite. He felt a flicker of it inside him already, ready to grow. He gripped the sink harder this time and said it again… “bro”

It was easier and more obvious this time as he kept his eyes locked on his reflection. Same wave of nausea, but the body shiver was accompanied by something more, a new wave of golden color to his skin, a clearing of his complexion, dissolving of a layer of fat. He watched as he gained a few inches in height and waist rose to sink level. He already looked so much better. But he had to commit. No turning back now. “bro”

Less nausea more pleasure this time as everything about him became larger. The facial changes were even more dramatic compared to the subtle differences before- jawline, full lips, thin eyebrows and growing full curly head of hair. Noticing the changes was accompanied by a new rush and swell in confidence not just muscle. This wasn’t a feeling he was used to when seeing himself naked, but here he was hot and beautiful and the high just made his head numb with bliss and pleasure. This was it. He was becoming one. A “bro”

Now his voice sounded deeper. Still gripping the sink he see his arms flex and pump with new muscle. Everything about him screamed gym rat, jock, no- look at that ass swell- fuckboy. Yeah. That was more like it. His waist was well above the sink now, just hiding the monster member growing below. Fuck it felt good. The empty head made so much sense now with all the urges and hunger pumping through his veins. Hell yeah. No goin back. He wanted to flex, he wanted to lift, he wanted to fuck. But first. Looking into the mirror. Thirsting at everything he was becoming. He smirked and said… “bro”

Gnarly Tides

--- Originally posted by ZacharyEverlust before 2018-08-22 ---

--- Note: Pokémon Gym Leader TF ---

We are back at the same location! Same place, same time, same method! Well slightly different one, a tweaked version of what will happen to the fellow victim from the previous story. Only this time, its from the OTHER soon to be-surfer's perspective. As such, the story starts off with his perspective. Seran, being called here by his friend, Baikoha, via text.

Dude you've gotta check this out!

I'm having a blast with Swimming! Coach wants you to tag along!

Bring your goggles along too man!

Obviously, knowing his friend, its totally odd that he would post a message like that. Baikoha didn't want to attend Sports Week much less enjoy those "swimming lessons". Not to mention he actually complained about it yesterday at his dorm...

Seran walked towards the open pool, letting his really long brown hair down as he gazed over the line of participants for this year's "Jockification Week", or so what people described. 'They turned guys and girls into jocks, full of school spirit and cocky bravado!' was apparently what some people described what happened to their friends...how farfetched, well, aside the fact that even his own friend posted that weird message back to him.

The invited-teen peered over for his friend for a few moments, unable to find him. Probably already in the pool by then, Seran assumed, scratching his growing beard down below his lip. The thin-lanky man has to be at the beach in about an hour from now, skipping out an hour's worth of sleep to originally bail with him so they could dodge sports week together, though his friend's apparent change of heart as shown in his message...it was weird, really weird.

Probably at this moment, Seran's mind wondered even more about those Jockification rumors he'd heard from the other newbies. "What if they were true?" Was the first stereotypical soon-to-be-victim thought anyone would have. He recalled the goggles he and his friend discussed yesterday, him being the lucky person that received a limited edition "Marlon & Brawly branded goggles." To his surprise, the other pair was inside the gift box that was laid in his doorstep this very morning!

To be honest, it looks awfully strange, with shiny plastic lenses and their sides being being labelled with the numbers 1-2-3-4-5. Coloured completely black with shiny orange lenses. He wanted to go and tell his friend about this too, though it'd be better just to surprise him. Right?- SPLASH!-Wow some douchebag splashed water on him---SHONE!--"WHA--?"

He sensed the sides of the goggles glowing, sending pulsating charges to the lenses as they glowed a bright orange, shining brightly as though its a conjoined process. Glowing and overwhelmings strongly on the inside of the lens, past the helpless victim's past through the corners of his brain, touching the commands and subjects that make a person-them.

"ARGH! My eyes--huh?" Like an enormous tidal wave that's about to wash over a helpless surfer, he felt like his body became paralyzed in a millisecond, as though he was no more in control. HANG TEN! Was the signal the flashed in his brain, the only thing he could focus on the inside whilst observing the pool's water dripping down from his skin--?

Brawler's Stance!

His thought shifted momentarily, the number 5 engraved on the side of the goggles faded away as this happened. His fists clenched, as his body brought itself to an iconic fighting position, one that's familiar in a game remake. With feet firmly rooted to the ground, squats strongly standing apart and fists brought close to his chest.

SOMEBODY HELP ME! He thought loudly to himself, unable to open his mouth aside forming a huge cocky-like smile that was unlike him, eye brows furrowed oddly , if anyone took notice of him, he would look like a mix of an odd statue and a young man looking for a fight. Although...he didn't fit the part of a fighter just yet, needing an appropriate body to support the current position he is in--

SPLASH!

"NOT AGAIN!" He shouted. The Second tide came in, as a swimming gave a powerful dive from the diving board. Drowning Seran's clothes and his chest from the inside even further. A Drenched white T-shirt and brown khaki shorts, with plain looking sandals. This certainly did not match the goggles he is current matching, and that is about to change as the number 4 faded away next.

PUMP IT UP!

WHOA! He watched his body rise up even higher with a dose of electrolytes, goggles converting pool water to salt water as it gave a dose full of a lifetime's worth of minerals to the body. Aging several years as his height went up with it, with even longer legs and arms, a body that's as tall as any other typical sportsman that can be seen in sight.

Bathed in an appropriate amount of UV rays from the sun, his body crusted into a perfect moderate-brownish Hawaiian tan, like its a result of time and dedication. With his body being at a prime at his early twenties, yet feeling really uncomfortable underneath the clothes he's currently wearing, like it wasn't his style, like he deserved something better--

WOW! The next thought came up, as he watched as his clothes physically re-materialize by themselves right before the goggles covering his very eyes-- RUBBER! Starting with the feet, as the base of the sandals dyed themselves a strong orange, and black rubber soaked itself over the top.

Escalating hugely, they grew larger than the size of his foot as they reached a decent L-size. Bottom becoming rubber like the top, with the strap too becoming part of the design and turning orange as well. Five circles appeared where the toes should be and two black rolled loops appeared at his ankles, though the whole new wet-shoes get-up barely fit him.

The same treatment can be said about the rest of the attire as it went up, clothes now barely fitting and staying on him due to the L-size of the clothes, only thanks to the tight-fitting quality of wet-attire were why they were able to still stick onto his thin bod.

With Khaki shorts morphing themselves blue with waterproof threads as they wrap loosely around his waist, sky blue boarder shorts only on due to the current "stance" he's made into. A plain generic T-shirt gaining originality as they rediscovered cool typical sports patterns sufficing from his chest and trailing from on shoulder to another.

Those patterns turned a familiar pure orange as the rest of the shirt turned into a sporty black. Bringing out a cool and manly side out of the wearer. The sportier shirt hugged tightly to his skin as they turned into a waterproof-skin tight fabric, seemingly rubberized. A loop suffices around the top of his shirt, below his neck and similar to the ones of his wet-shoes.

With that being said, the last changes formed at his fists as the surfer influence touched his hands. Black covering his fists as they turned into orange at the top, with the same loop down at his wrists. Forming Brawler-like slash Surfer wet gloves for those who enjoy diving into the ocean from time to time, and with the current status of his body, it seemed as they just enjoyed anything water sports related, especially surfing--

SPLASH!!!!

"DUDE! THIS IS NOT COOL BRAH---?!" The man complained, vocabulary "Oh man! I haven't even bulked up yet---!" He realized that, with it being the next stage as the number 3 faded too.

IT'S WORKOUT TIME!

His brain thought, feeling his fists clenching even harder as veins bulge toughly from his arms. Watching them firm up as they do their years of training hard, growing to a sizable size as those knuckles nicely fit the gloves like a proud brawler.

The power and energy moved up to his shoulders, expanding them wide and steady as a result of surfing for over a decade, body posture and balance maintaining his strong figure. With a hefty lean-muscular chest supporting his front with tanned pecs and chiseled abs showing his status as a gym instructor, and a gym leader.

Legs tanking out, with calves steadying and fitting the boarder shorts like he liked it. Butt rounding and firming up, jutting out simultaneously with his feet as they filled in their entire wet-shoes. His attire completely suiting his powerful physique, like he deserved it.

"Man! This is great and all!" The soon to be hundred percent Surfer man spoke. "This like totally caused a storm of astonishment to my system! Oh man! But like..."

SPLASHHHH!

"HAHA! Wow! Again with the waves dude!" With water entering his system, cleansing his throat and tonsils, refilling the surfer lingo that he ever most desires with an attractive, chill and a totally radical voice that didn't cared much about intelligence." Gnarly Voice man...AWESOME!"

HANG TEN DUDE!

"Wicked!" An overwhelming surge of confidence and resolve shone in his face. Teeth as white and strong as a Sharpedo's, a smile evolved to a fearless confident grin. Angular Jaw being a sticker to the personality that crashes tides and oceans with his surfboard.

"I LOVE this dude! Can't get enough of it!" Hair spiking at the back, maintaining themselves like an in-bred style that suits him. Blasted away with Sky Blue like his boarder shorts, totally radical as they held spiked in place, bangs free. Facial features chilling with the breeze blowing against his forehead, ears wide open, nostrils filled with the scent of the sea, black sharp eyebrows boldly representing his self-assurance, his power, and his passion for what he does.

"And it just gets better and BETTER!"

"SPLASHHHHHHHHHH!"

"WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Fully lost in the Ocean, the new man awoke. With the number 5 completely fading away, he understood the hang ten quality within him and embraced the tide. With outstretched arms voluntarily breaking past any gnarly paralysis, and a body standing tall and firm as water poured down on him.

His goggles glowed and allowing the sun rays reflecting of the pool's surface to bask him with all the thoughts that he needed. Goggles taking on their true form as they tinted themselves as pure orange shades, with black sides supporting his coolness.

"Yo! Brawly! Sup!" Marlon raised his hand. HI-FIVE "Hey Man! Totally drenched me over here! Haha!" He laughed.

Lifting up the shades, revealing two piercing light blue eyes that shredded killer waves. He understood who he is, and how couldn't he? Being the Former Gym Leader of Dewford City's Gym, churned in the rough waves while pumping in the gym and toughening up in a pitch-black cave.

Now the Captain of The University's Water Sports Group, and yet another carefree Surfer Jock who loves nothing more than being in the water, Brawly takes his stance.

With his buddy Marlon by his side, being the fierce competitors and the greatest of friends back when they met in orientation. Rooming up like the bros they are, and having being given their own special goggles together by the higher-ups as a reward for being one of the best pairs in their category. The Ocean. Though his was definitely cooler since it could transform back and forth between his trusty shades and goggles with a button at the back. How awesome is that?

With their knowledge of the ocean, surfing as well as a healthy match of Pokemon battles and tons of working out. With Marlon and Brawly taking the lead in The school's Swimming/Water Polo and Dynamic Surfers Teams respectively, The Captains of the University's Water Sports Group were unstoppable together.

"Dude! Race you to the top of the diving board." Marlon swam. "Oh yeah? Well I'm gonna wipe you down man!" Brawly jumped in and swam right after him.

The two of them made their way to the diving board.

"Hey Man! Watch this--I'm gonna make--!"

"A Bigger Splash Than The Sea!"

SPLASH!

"Dude, that's nothing. Don't forget, I'm--!"

"A Big Wave In Fighting!"

SPLASH!

Heyy, i have a resquest, hope you like it:

What if a very bad, punk guy from an average college has a really Bad demeanor and is always causing trouble, so he gets transferred to a re-education that supposedly turns you into the perfect preppy boy, where forced by his preppy colleagues he gets his attitude adjusted?

It was Lucas's first time on the Davidson College campus and his first night of an after-hours "attitude adjustment" class. His ratty backpack bounced on his lithe shoulders as he approached the classroom while the other students sneered under their breaths, all heading to their dorms and homes for the evening. Lucas's ratty leather jacket, jeans, and weathered boots couldn't have stood out more harshly against the sea of button-down shirts, sweaters, shorts, chinos, and boat shoes.

Liberal arts was his major, and he was good at it - well, he would have been if he'd put in any academic effort. But to Lucas, papers, essays, and exams were all a power structure to rally against. Four years into a three-year degree, and sick of the disobedience and attitude, his college gave him an ultimatum: leave for good, or take the adjustment course at Davidson, which was a college known in academic circles for its snobby preppiness, but also its eerily successful adjustment program.

Lucas's parents certainly didn't want an unemployed, moody twenty-three-year-old back in their house, and the college was all he had. So the choice was all but made for him. He was to take the class at Davidson and lose the attitude.

Eyes toward his feet, Lucas slinked into the classroom only to run head-first into a cashmere sweater. Lucas looked up at the man who stood a head taller than him and found himself flanked by two other similar-looking students. All three men stood two to three inches taller than the five-ten Lucas, all wore their hair in similar parts, and all wore typical, semi-formal prep clothing. Another three cogs in the machine at the Davidson, Lucas thought to himself.

"You know, I don't exactly want to be here. Get outta my way and the quicker I get out off your snotty campus," Lucas stated plainly.

"Oh we know, Lucas," the middle frat boy snickered.

Lucas raised an eyebrow, how did these nimrods know his name? He also knew that despite his disregard for these types of preppy bros that he wouldn't stand a chance against one of them in a fight, let alone three. "Look, guys, I just gotta do this course, then I'm gone."

"And why do you think we're here?" said the man to Lucas's left.

"We're your instructors," chimed the third of the trio.

"Let's get started," the leader said, grabbing Lucas by the collar and pushing him to the wall. "Alright boys, you know what to do."

Lucas struggled against the large hands pinning him down while one of the others held a clear bottle in front of his face and sprayed it three times.

"Get the fuck off me, asshole!" he screamed, attempting and failing to land a lunch as the preppy jock loosened his grip.

"Not so fucking smart now are you?" the preppy student sneered at the defenseless punk who was coughing from inhaling whatever it was the group had sprayed in his face. Not only did the admittedly pleasant scent hang around in his nose, but it was like it permeated him as a whole.

Lucas fell to his knees, his head spinning. The smell in the air was so... masculine, enough to turn on even the straightest man or puritan prude.

"Smells good, doesn't it?" the main jock chuckled.

"Ah... ach... what did you do to me?" Lucas spluttered, rolling his neck.

The trio of preppy frat boys wasted no time hoisting the incapacitated Lucas into a chair, tying his limp hands at the back and switching on the projector screen at the front of the room.

Lucas coughed, unable to get the scent out of his airway. He struggled against the rope holding him to the chair, watching helplessly as the image of a black and white spiral flashed onto the backdrop ahead.

"You assholes just wait, when I get out of here I'm... gonna... gonna... I..."

All it took was a glimpse for Lucas to become slackjawed and glued to the screen, unable to continue with his useless verbal threat. The preppy men began to take turns making hypnotic commands.

"You want to be a preppy college stud."

"No, please... I don't want to be..." Lucas mumbled, almost drooling as he gazed at the spiral, feeling the mixture of the jocks' words and the substance they'd sprayed him with mingling in his head.

"You want to be like us. You don't wanna do any of that useless liberal arts shit anymore. Finance, law, engineering... real work, take your pick, that's what you wanna do."

"Finance... yeah... just like dad..." Lucas could feel his philosophical smarts draining away, replaced with business savvy and a desire to impress.

"A real prep has to know how to have fun. You wanna party with us, don't you?"

"Yeah... no! No!" Lucas tried to resist, but it was no use. The chemicals and instructions forced open new neural pathways, replacing the old Lucas with a far more extroverted one. "Uh... hell... yeah..."

"Most of all, if you wanna be like us you've gotta look the part, man. You want to look like us. You will look like a preppy frat stud."

It felt like hands were gripping Lucas's body from all directions, pushing, kneading, and tugging. Only seconds later his back cracked loudly. With a long, loud, uninterrupted moan, he arched backward as he began to grow taller. His legs pushed out along the rough carpet and his arms dangled longer at his sides.

To his horror, his jacket and shirt ruffled like they were in a gust of wind, shifting and warping. Lucas shrieked in bliss feeling his rail-thin chest puff outward to fill what was now a button-down shirt while lean abs bubbled to the surface just below.

"No, god... No... what am I... I... I... oooooohhhhhh!"

Another guttural cry echoed off the walls along with a large helping of pre-cum ejecting into Lucas's shifting underwear. His lanky arms pulsated, lean muscles bulging underneath tanning skin towards hands that were popping and jutting out larger across the floor. Sweat ran down his tied arms, dripping off the ends of his twitching, lengthening fingers.

Lucas had almost forgotten that the three preppy studs were still in the room with him, softly pawing at their thick cocks as they watched him become more and more like them.

"Feel good, bro?" one of them whispered, "Doesn't it feel fucking great to become a proper man?"

Lucas could only muster a moan and a nod, too enamored with the bulging muscles growing down his legs and his swelling, perky butt that threatened to ruin his jeans any moment. Those began to change too though, the denim becoming softer, looser, and better fitting shorts that hugged his new bubble butt.

"No, n-, n-, n-..." Lucas murmured in the death throes of his resistance as the changes progressed and took hold of his cock.

With his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open and looking up at the handsome figures towering above, Lucas felt his hard cock stir dramatically in what was now an expensive pair of underwear

"AUUUGH! Fuck yeah!"

His face and head throbbed, his jaw tightening while his cock pulsed heavier and thicker, pre-cum flowing like a fountain against his muscular thigh. Like his cock, the toes in his boots stretched longer, striking the ends of the footwear. The pressure suddenly dropped, however, when the boots themselves shifted in shape and size, becoming a fresh pair of large, size twelve boat shoes. Large soles and long, bony toes tore through the remains of his socks, inching forward to fill the jockish footwear.

At the same time, his cock was running out of room in his pants while at the same time his skull felt like it was being squeezed as it took on a squarer shape. Lucas groaned for mercy through gritted teeth that were becoming straighter and whiter. His nose shrunk cuter, while brown eyes become a striking blue. The messy black hair he'd long worn lightened in tone, combing over neat and handsome.

Before that fateful night, Lucas would have had much to say on how he shrugged off the "shackles" of beauty standards and masculinity. But now... now he knew he was beautiful, he could feel it. The lean, slim muscles and his large, swelling cock oozed masculinity, and he loved it.

The transformed Lucas sat there smiling dumbly, moaning, almost drooling as he thrust his bulging crotch upward.

The three other preppy jocks examined the now lean, handsome man head to toe and gave each other smirks of approval, and switched off the projector.

Lucas' eyes fluttered as he left the spiral's trance and the last of the catalytic chemicals in his body were used up. His balls swelled and tensed up, ready to launch their load.

"Man, I'm gonna... gonna..." Lucas growled, breaking free of his restraints and desperately fishing his cock out of his chino shorts before it launched rope upon rope of thick cum halfway across the room.

"Lucas, welcome to Davidson," the main jock chuckled, slapping the newly inducted preppy stud on the back.

"Heh, thanks, man," Lucas panted, "Call me Luke, by the way."

"Alright Luke, if you wanna put that trouser snake of yours away, Daniel here will show you where your dorm is."

Luke barely realized his long, soft cock was still out in the open. He hurriedly stuffed it back into his shorts before following his fellow prep bros to his new campus dorm.