Coach Sorenson - Tumblr Posts
What the Athletic Department Needs
Bringing back Coach Sorenson as requested
Tony Reardon anxiously paced back and forth inside of the coach’s office. It was strangely large and well-decorated, looking similar to something he expected from a therapist. One large loveseat, a coffee table, and a chair with an extra wide cushion were the only items in the room. There were also multiple pictures of championship victories, a few caps and balls hanging as mementos, an array of cabinets, and large windows overlooking the university. He wished literally anyone was here with him. His girlfriend, his advisor, even his mother! But he was completely alone, unprepared to face what he assumed was going to be the coach’s wrath.
As a lead writer for the university’s newspaper, Tony should’ve known better than to expose the article. He’d been in the business for almost four years now through high school and into college, so he could admit it was rather idiotic of him to let his segment leak. He had written an editorial about the recent declines in the university’s academic departments and its odd correlations with the climbing numbers in athletic enrollment. Somehow, while the average grades had been plummeting, the football, soccer, basketball, baseball, and hockey records had been exploding, with a new star player added to each team every week. Not only that, but the swimming team had expanded for the first time in 20 years, and there were now four golf teams instead of two. Somehow, all these events had to be connected with the academic slump, and that’s what Tony’s article was going to explore.
For the next month’s publication, he began researching the link between the fall of academia and the rise of physical activities. The chase had led him through a plethora of unexplained student disappearances, skyrocketing mid-semester registrations, and a barely-quantifiable amount of seemingly illegal activity. The most prominent example had been the creation of some cologne called “Heir,” a seemingly simple concoction invented by the new Assistant Football Coach Mark Richardson. Ever since the beginning of the rises and declines, there had been a huge amount of the chemical shipped to the university almost every day. Tony knew that this cologne had to be the answer he was looking for, but before he had a chance to investigate further, his article had been exposed to the faculty, including the head of the Athletic Department: Coach Sorenson.
And this was why Tony was cowering slightly as he waited for the coach to enter. What would he do to Tony, or with Tony? He had definitely gotten himself in way too deep, but there was no way he could escape now. Tony took a long breath and tried desperately to cool himself down. There was no way the coach would be able to harm him in any way. Tony was only a sophomore, not even 20. He was going to be fine, and he just had to keep telling himself that. He just had to get through this and then he’d be on his way.
Suddenly, the door from behind him opened. Tony quickly stood at full attention, almost as rigid as a soldier.
“Stand down,” Coach Sorenson chuckled. “Please, take a seat.”
Tony followed his instructions, nervously twitching as sat down on the white couch across from the coach’s massive chair. His eyes quivered as the giant of a man strolled past him. Tony assumed the coach had to be almost 6’5 (at least a foot taller than him) and even though he looked to be in his forties, he had to be in better shape than any other man above 25. Bulging biceps and triceps, juicy quads, and thick calves were all exposed as they strained the light blue compression shirt and tight, white mesh shorts. Not only that, but the two massive white Nike sneakers did nothing to hide the giant feet as they stomped their way around the other side of the table. Tony also unhappily noticed a massive cock swinging back and forth between the coach’s legs like a pendulum trying to break out.
As the coach sat down, Tony looked over his own body in dread. He’d dressed a little more professional for the situation as he was talking with the head of the Athletic Department. His plaid button-up was fairly flat, showcasing his lack of anything in his torso region. His khakis gave a similar performance as they loosely held onto his legs. His briefs hid any existence of his dick, which was currently sitting at about 3 inches soft. Barely tapping his small shoes quickly against the tile floor, Tony sunk a little further into the loveseat. His butt barely covered half a cushion as he brought his legs together, hoping to stop the shaking.
“To get right to business,” Coach Sorenson’s deep, melodic voice began. “We both know why you’re here in my office.”
“I’m so sorry!” Tony exclaimed, his tenor voice sounding wimpy and childish. “I had no intention of harming the Athletic Department’s reputation in any way at all. I swear, the article is just an editorial–opinions, not fact.”
“I understand.” Coach Sorenson leaned back into his chair and crossed his meaty arms. He pushed his legs out until they were far apart, the man-spreading showcasing who was in charge in the room. He seemed to be dwelling over a thought in his head.
“I promise, it will never be published if that is what you’d like.” Tony gulped at his own proposal, upset at what he was sacrificing.
“No, no,” Coach Sorenson started. “The article can still be salvaged.”
“Salvaged?” Tony questioned hesitantly.
“Well of course,” Coach Sorenson chuckled again, only this time it was a little more menacing. “But if you want to get this thing published, you’ll want both sides of the story.”
Tony pondered the idea for a moment. “What does that entail?”
“I know you’re a smart boy, Tony.” The emphasis on “boy” made it seem more like an insult. “I’ve seen your transcripts. Quite impressive really.”
“Thank you?” Tony was lost, not finding the point.
“You should know that the greatest editorials present sources from both sides. If you want to publish this article, you’re going to have someone in the Athletic Department. I would be willing to fill that responsibility.”
The two sat there in silence for a moment; Coach Sorenson waiting for Tony to take the bait.
“Alright,” Tony agreed. “Are there certain questions you’d like me to ask?”
“Well, first, I have a strange request for you.” The coach’s tone suddenly shifted from authoritative to friendly. “My son made a comment the other day about my body odor, and I’ve been quite self-conscious about it since.”
“I can’t smell anything,” Tony replied honestly, hoping to move forward quickly.
“I just want to make sure.” Coach Sorenson pushed his muscular body out of the chair, the giant frame once again showcasing its massive form as it ascended upwards. The coach then made his way over to the loveseat, taking a seat right next to the very uncomfortable Tony. Compared to the coach, the sophomore now looked even smaller than before.
“Can you smell me when I’m sitting right next to you?”
Tony, now even more intimidated then he had been the entire time, took a theatrical sniff before sputtering out a meek, “N-n-no.”
“Alright,” Coach Sorenson shifted over, getting close enough that his gigantic arms and legs were rubbing up against the beanstalks Tony called limbs. “How about now?”
“S-s-still n-nothing!” Tony squeaked. The coach smirked and casually raised his arms behind his head, stretching out his compression shirt and allowing tufts of wet armpit hair to spill out. Now Tony began to smell something pungent, repulsive, and… addicting. His eyes began to water from the stench as he gradually lost focus.
“Really?” Coach Sorenson insisted, slowly leaning one of his pits into Tony’s face. “Are you sure I don’t smell?”
With logic disappearing quickly, Tony decided this had to be a test. All he had to do was show his obedience to the coach and he would get to publish the article. Without a doubt in his idea, he confidently moved his nose right into a damp forest, the stench almost hitting him immediately. Although he now knew his answer, Tony didn’t stop sniffing. For some reason, he kept going. He had had three words to describe the flavor of the coach’s body odor before, but now the only one that came to mind was-
“Addicting, isn’t it?” The coach cooed, wrapping an arm around Tony and pushing his head in further. “Mark really made sure to make his cologne captivating, that way you’d have no chance of escaping.”
Tony should’ve been panicking; he should’ve been screaming and trying to escape. But he couldn’t, and not because he was being physically held down. He could slip out in seconds if he wanted too, but that was the problem: he didn’t want too.
“After I discovered your little essay, I had to assure your disappearance would be quick and much more hidden than the other students.”
Tony was too captivated in the tangles of pit hair to hear or understand what was going on.
“Although Heir probably would’ve worked, I decided it would be best to be extra cautious. Mark had informed me a few weeks ago that he had made a new detergent for his uncle, the CEO of TenHaken Industries. Apparently it was a success, as its main purpose was to give the employees a few extra decades.”
Tony, who was still feverishly sniffing, began to feel pulsing tingles race across his limbs. He twitched violently but continued to dedicate his attention to the pits at hand.
“So, in hopes that Tony Reardon would vanish from the university while also becoming an advocate for the Athletic Department,” Coach Sorenson smirked proudly. “I decided to mix Heir with Maturitatem, the aging scent that Mark made for his uncle.”
The coach pulled a small, empty cologne bottle out of his pocket. It had two labels on it: one that had been originally attached and one that had been taped on. Tony wasn’t able to see either, but he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was smell the coach’s greasy jungles of pit hair.
Lost in bliss, Tony didn’t notice how the tingling from before had now spread to every part of his body. With every passing second, it seemed to be expanding, pushing outwards as if it was begging for release. In its attempts to escape, the energy pulled at Tony’s mass like taffy, stretching out his limbs and torso as they were pulled further apart. Satisfied with how the process had begun, Coach Sorenson had to readjust his arm to make sure the larger Tony could fit under it. Once the stretching had stopped, the lanky boy now stood at 6’4, just under the coach. He now had to crouch a little with his feet planted firmly on the floor so he could keep inhaling the intoxicating scent.
Now that he was of proper height, the tingling began to focus on certain areas of improvement. The first were the arms, which immediately bloated outwards as mass began to develop. Thick, juicy muscles pushed outwards to create firm biceps, triceps, and forearms. Veins snaked their way downwards to process more flow of testosterone and other hormones. Tony’s hands, which were previously delicate enough to make a typewriter silent, ballooned out as extra flesh made each of his fingers into calloused sausages. They were now only meant to throw, grip, and squeeze.
The tingling then moved across the shoulders and into Tony’s torso. Straight, strong shoulder blades popped out as his chest began to inflate with each huff. Two sturdy pecs pushed against his shirt fiercely, causing the buttons to eventually fly off in random directions. After the pectorals had arrived, they were followed by a magnificent eight-pack that was sure to impress crowds. A hard, defined core helped Tony’s stature become more masculine, giving him a stronger alpha presence to compare to the coach’s.
With the torso improved, the tingling split into two. The first colony swam south, spreading across Tony’s extended legs. The twitching began much more as the Coach eagerly watched the khakis strain at the seams before ripping. As they slipped away–along with his briefs–two sets of gloriously crafted trunks were revealed. Beefy quads were taking in their first light just like the sculpted calves below. A pair of succulent buttocks had also appeared below, hoisting Tony up a little further into Coach Sorenson’s armpit. The sheer size of Tony’s legs forced him to subconsciously push them apart to allow room for his below-average pouch. Although Tony wasn’t a true man yet, his newly-permanent manspread said otherwise.
The tingling also made sure to target Tony’s feet, giving off a similar feeling as if they had fallen asleep. The two soles began to slowly pulse outwards, gaining mass and girth with each increasing centimeter. It wasn’t long before Tony’s shoes were simply destroyed, losing their shape as they were torn into multiple pieces. Coach Sorenson watched on proudly as he swiftly pushed the remains of all the destroyed clothing underneath the coffee table. With surprise, he noticed that Tony was still wearing socks. They had once been knee-high, but now rested right at the ankle, just barely managing to cover the Size 16 feet.
The second group of tingles had now moved upwards, quickly bringing along a flurry of changes as it zipped by. Tony’s neck grew outwards to support larger, broadening vocal chords, which now provided a grumbling bass voice similar in timbre to the coach’s. Tony’s head lengthened out to give him a wider, more prominent chin, allowing for a sharper jaw in return. His ears perked out a little more, along with giving him a bigger nose, wider lips, and piercing brown eyes to replace his shimmering blue ones. His hair also tidied itself up, pulling back up and flopping over as it now had a modern, but natural lift to it.
“Yeah, you’re looking real good,” Coach Sorenson murmured, shoving Tony a little deeper into his pit. “Now, let’s see the namesake of Heir…”
The tingling returned to its roaring presence across Tony’s body once more, except this time it felt more like itching. Sprouts of hair follicles began to explode forth from Tony’s skin, blooming all across his legs, chest, and pubes. Hefty tufts swirled around each other on Tony’s forearms and thighs, while dense forests now covered his calves, chest, and the tops of his feet. Tony’s upper arms were pushed out just slightly to make room for the emerging jungles of pit hair, which now filled in a space Tony had no idea existed before. His face also gained a rather gracious smattering of hair, as he now adorned an extended goatee that could grow back in less than 24 hours. A strong odor began to erupt out of Tony’s body too, a masculine funk coming from his pits and feet that demanded authority.
“…and of Maturitatem.”
Coach Sorenson hadn’t exactly known how much of the detergent to add, but he had assumed a few drops was enough when he had mixed it into the cologne. By the looks of it, he had put in the perfect amount, as the effects were rather minor but definitely noticeable. Tightening of muscles all across Tony’s body came first, followed by the tiniest of wrinkles and weathered skin. Tony’s hairline fell noticeably back, and his once full head of hair lost its youthful thickness. His marvelous eight pack thrusted forward into a powerful muscle gut, almost identical to the coach’s. Finally, Tony’s body hair became a little denser and coarser, adding a few more playful curls across his limbs.
“You’re looking much better,” Coach Sorenson commented as he slowly brought Tony out of his armpit. Tony was startled and bewildered, the smell of the coach’s pits still potent in his nose.
“Now, let’s get you changed into, well, something.” The coach quickly maneuvered his lumbering body across the room to a cabinet, opening it to pull out a set of clothes.
“I always have a few spare shirts and shorts,” Coach Sorenson began as he plodded back over to Tony. “And looking at you, I’d say we’re pretty close to the same size now.”
As Tony was still in a daze, the coach had to help him put on the clothes. First, he carefully placed a tight, gray compression shirt over Tony’s chest, struggling a little at the pecs but eventually making it over. Then, he proceeded to shimmy a pair of blue compression shorts up Tony’s bare lower body, not bothering to grab him any sort of underwear. The coach knew he would rather be commando in the end anyway. Coach Sorenson also grabbed a black baseball hat that had been hanging on the wall and placed it on Tony’s head, making sure to twist it. Although Tony now looked to be around 30, he could still rock a backwards cap.
“Alright,” Coach grunted as he collapsed back into the loveseat beside Tony, the two barely fitting now. “There’s just one more thing we have to do.”
“One… more thing?” Tony’s sonorous voice seemed lifeless. His head had just begun to clear up, but at such a tedious rate that even the simplest of thoughts were difficult to comprehend.
“Yes, I’m surprised you didn’t know that this process had two steps.” Coach Sorenson grinned, glistening in the warmth of his own arrogance.
“First, there’s the cologne, which you’ve already experienced.” The coach brought up one of his feet onto the coffee table. Tony nodded in response, still unable to think straight.
“And then,” Coach Sorenson yanked off one of his sneakers. “there’s the sole of the shoe. It’s specially designed to help you mentally process the transformation.”
“Wait… what?”
“Yeah,” the coach replied, nonchalantly shoving the sneaker into Tony’s face. “When I read your article, which wasn’t half bad might I add, I was surprised to find that you had missed a whole component of our project.”
Tony, who had finally started to make it out of the haze, was sucked right back in as he passionately inhaled the coach’s foot funk.
“But, it doesn’t matter anymore.” Coach Sorenson demeaningly patted Tony’s back. “In a few minutes, you’ll barely be able to read an article, let alone write one. You’ll be just what the Athletic Department needs.”
To the coach’s delight, Tony had now grabbed the gargantuan shoe and was holding it to his own nose. His frantic sniffing was quickly replacing his personalities, values, and morals; shifting them out with thoughts crafted for a team player. Years of academic clubs, races, and scholarships fell away into the abyss, only to be replaced with numerous sport outings of various kinds. His saxophone lessons had changed to baseball practices, his writing seminars had switched into working out in the gym, and his tutoring sessions had flipped from him being the tutor into him being the tutored.
An extra ten years were also added onto his mental plate, giving Tony a whole new history. For years after (somehow) graduating from the university with a Sports Education degree, he had worked as a personal trainer at a local gym, climbing the ranks until he had become the assistant manager. That’s when Coach had dropped by to check on him, with his true intent to offer him an assistant coaching position back at the university. Tony had agreed to an interview not only because it would put his degree to good use, but he’d also get to work with Coach again, and under him. Tony suddenly recalled all the late nights he spent with Coach, lots of one-on-one brojobs, handjobs, and of course, offering his hole whenever Coach needed it. And if Tony got to train his own team, he’d have a group of young boys at his sexual disposal. Just thinking about it made his cock spring to life.
Speaking of his cock, all the information that was being replaced had to move somewhere else, with the only available option being Tony’s balls. With all of his former intellect and memories now stored there, the once previously grape-sized testicles had now bloated into two ample tennis balls. In response to the new volume, Tony’s sack began to ferment the material, slowly dissolving it down and reconstructing into pure jock seed. As the new production began, testosterone dispersed throughout Tony’s pouch, affecting his dick instantly. It was already hard at 5 inches, but it hastily expanded forward into his shorts, becoming as thick as a beer can as it now stood at 9.5 inches.
As everything that made up Tony was now accumulated in Tony’s balls, Coach Sorenson knew it was time for the final step. He gently grabbed the man’s giant cock, gave a good, long squeeze, and let go. Tony in turn took a deep, heavy inhale of the coach’s shoe before exhaling slowly, allowing for a giant wet spot to appear on the front of his shorts. The coach then leisurely made his way back to his own chair, taking a seat and getting into position. Now given more space, the new man hiked up both of his legs arrogantly on the coffee table, spreading them as far apart as possible to take up as much space on the loveseat as he could. Although he knew Coach Sorenson would always be superior, he wanted to make it clear that he could be an alpha too.
“Thank you for coming in today, Tony. I’m glad we could get you here on such short notice.”
“Of course, bro,” Tony responded. “I’d do anything for you, Coach.”
“Good to know,” Coach Sorenson winked before continuing. “Because I know you’re not that bright, we can skip past the logistics and get right to the basics.”
“That’s sick! Thanks, Coach.” Tony gave a dull guffaw.
“Now, Tony,” Coach accentuated the name, chewing on it intently. “Tony isn’t a name that demands respect, authority, and masculinity, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, Coach.”
“To be a coach, you know how important it is to give the right impression. You need to be an example to these boys, someone they can look up too.”
“Yeah, Coach.”
“I know you want my advice. I am a good mentor.”
“Yes, Coach, you are a good mentor.”
“Professionally, I think you should introduce yourself as Anthony Renz.” The change inside Anthony’s head was instant
“Yes Coach,” he replied proudly.
“Try it on me.”
“Hello, my name is Anthony Renz.” Any existence of the name Tony Reardon ceased to exist as Anthony Renz came into place.
“Very good, Anthony.” Hearing Coach say it, as though it always had been, made Anthony cum just a little more inside his shorts.
“One other thing,” Coach Sorenson added.
“Yeah bro?”
“Are you missing anything?”
Anthony thought it was an odd question, but he decided to respond to it truthfully.
“I’m missing nothing when I’m with my Coach!”
“Perfect,” Coach Sorenson replied. “Welcome to the team. Before you head out, let’s talk pay.”
Coach Sorenson proudly looked over his new Assistant Baseball Coach, happy that he’d gotten rid of a nuisance and filled a seat on his board. No one would come looking for Tony Reardon, but if they did, Coach Sorenson would know just what to do with them. Maybe Assistant Coach Renz would have some coworkers in the near future.

Booty Text
--- Originally posted on 2019-03-11 by dumb-and-jocked ---
Text Message Sent 10:36 PM
David: Hey! Sorry to text you so late, but thanks for the present!
Matt: No probs bro. It’s for helping me study math
David: Well, if you ever need help in the future I’ll be there
Matt: ya can help me rite now by trying it on and send pics
David: ?
Matt: trust me bro, I got you the best cologne out there, and the socks have scented soles
David: uh ok?
Text Message Sent 10:39 PM
David: the socks are definitely to big, but they look nice
Matt: they’re the perfect size, you’ll see, how bout cologne?
David: dude, you didn’t tell me how powerful it was
Matt: but ya love it rite bro?
David: yeah but it’s a little hard to concentrate
Matt: spray som more and smell, it helps
David: ok, one sec
Text Message Sent 10:41 PM
David: woah dude, u were right
Matt: ikr bro, u always should listen to me
David: I think I’m seein things, my body’s looking big
Matt: it’s not lookin big bro, I bet it’s swole
David: yeah, swole, ur right
Matt: yup bro, smell the socks and txt back
Text Message Sent 10:44 PM
David: bro, I’ve been smelling the air and socks and I think I’m losing it
Matt: wdym
David: my whole bodies expanded, it looks I went through puberty again
Matt: what?
David: I took of all my clothes except my compression shorts and like my body’s all buff now and my hands look like mitts and bro my abs are poppin
Matt: what else?
David: I got these huge pecs and super defined calves, I also have hair sprouting out everywhere
Matt: is that all?
David: almost, it seems like my feet have expanded too, once I’m done smelling all out my socks back on and see
Matt: listen to me david, just like usual
David: of course
Matt: spray more cologne and keep smelling the socks, check back in bro
David: sure thing bro
Text Message Sent 10:49 PM
David: hey bro
Matt: how you feelin?
David: foggier than before, and other things have changed
Matt: like?
David: my hair and head get longer and now I got this sick beard and my Adam’s apple grew so big and now I got this deep voice
Matt: and?
David: bro, I have hair and huge musk everywhere like my abs and legs are super hairy and my pits are forests that are so RANK I can barely smell the cologne don’t me get started on the pubes
Matt: what about the pubes?
David: the more I smell my pits with the cologne, the hairier my crotch gets, and my dick and balls are both expanding
Matt: how much?
David: bro, my pouch is huge
Matt: nice
David: oh my butt just got bigger too it’s like 2 bubbles
Matt: perfect
David: you gay or something bro?
Matt: you’ll soon be
David: ?
Matt: just keep sniffing bro, especially the socks, check back in once ur redy
David: bro I think ur crazy?
Matt: everything I say is right, isn’t it David?
David: oh, uh yeah
Matt: then just sniff
David: ok bro
Text Message Sent 10:55 PM
David: bro
Matt: yeah?
David: I just remembered how hot it was
Matt: you blasted that jock cock to the thought of ur self, didn’t you?
David: yeah, cum all over the walls
Matt: well, that big dick does blast testosterone, how long is it again?
David: bro, how did you forget it’s 8 inches
Matt: I don’t know, can I ask ya something
David: always bro, and if you wanna bang it’s always yes
Matt: yeah, but different question, are you missing anything?
David: one sec bro...
David: nah, im missing nothing when im with my bro
Matt: that’s correct! babe send me a pic of ur self I wanna see what my present looks like
David: of course bro

David: now u know why I nutted
Matt: of course ya meathead
David: the cologne smells great and the socks fit perfectly, howd you know?
Matt: ive been to town on those feet, they’re my best bros, so when I found a pair of size 14 socks I knew they were a steal
David: well thx again
Matt: of course bro
David: so you coming over to beat my meathead?
Matt: yeah of course, i wanna eat those cheeks too, i like you as my booty call
David: wouldn’t this be a booty text?
Matt: wow, I thot I was the smarter one
David: yeah you are, I haven’t passed remedial math for two year now
Matt: I was just joking dummy, I gotta call mark and then I’ll be there
David: oh and after we swallow loads help me with math, I hate that crap bro
Matt: of course bro of course