Jock Transformation - Tumblr Posts
New Year's Resolution
Hey bros, Happy New Year's! I hope you all make this year your best yet and I hope you all reach your goals. I came up with a short story on the fly to ring in the new year. Hope you guys didn't party too hard like these two!
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Before I knew it, 2024 was almost here. Everyone always says that next year will be their year, but few people actually end up following through with their New Year's resolutions. Some people want to make more money, some might want to quit smoking, but me? I just wanna get jacked, bro. I know how it goes though. People go to the gym for a week, then are unable to keep up with that lifestyle. But I can do it, and I will. I felt a sense of determination with the desire to get in shape.
I found myself at a New Year's party. One of my co-workers invited me. I didn't know most of the people there, but I didn't have any plans so I decided to go, because why not? My friends barely have time for me anyways. A lot of them have started to settle down and some decided to have smaller celebrations with their spouses or are visiting family.
I was sitting on the couch when a guy I've never met sat down next to me and greeted me. He told me his name was Mike. He was my age, wearing a backwards hat, tank top, and shorts. Not exactly the best look for the winter, but he looked just like a fuckboy who partied all day every day. He probably just wears this every day just to show off his muscles and pick up chicks. He started chatting me up about the party and about the football game that was on the TV. I didn't really know anything about sports, but it was what was on so I played along, not wanting to be rude. He asked me what my New Year's resolution was. I said I wanted to get jacked. He seemed confident that I could do it. He downed what had to have been his third beer so far before asking if I wanted another drink as well. His breath stank with the scent of beer.
I said sure. As long as it got this dude away from me for a minute or two. I might tolerate him more if I was drunk anyways since it didn't seem like he was going anywhere anytime soon. He came back carrying two bottles of the same type of beer. We made a toast for the new year and chugged our beers. As I drank, I started to realize that Mike wasn't that bad for a dudebro. He was actually really chill. I ended up asking for his number so we can get drinks sometime. He said he knows some good bars nearby and he didn't live too far from me.
He asked me what my New Year's resolution is. He already asked me that though? His memory must not be the best since he was drunk. I told him I wanted to be jacked, kinda like him. He chuckled a dumb laugh, drunk from the excessive amount of alcohol he drank tonight.
"What do you mean? You're already jacked, bro."
I was confused at first. I didn't have a lot of muscle.
"Look at yourself dude."
I thought he was fucking with me until I looked down. My biceps felt like they were throbbing, burning as they seemingly increased in size. I panicked, running to the bathroom, unsure of whether I wanted to check out my new gains or find a way to stop the aching burn in my muscles. I looked at myself in the mirror, and flexed. I wasn't hallucinating. I was just as jacked as the bro I was drinking with. I stripped down. I realized that I had a six pack as well. The dude from before knocks before entering the bathroom with me.
"You good bro?"
"What the fuck did you do to me?" I asked, overwhelmed by my new body.
"You said you wanted to be jacked, so I made you jacked. I put something in your drink, and now you're huge. Isn't that what you wanted, dude?"
I couldn't deny that. I wasn't sure whether to feel grateful to him or mad at him for doing this without my consent. He could've even drugged me further. Before I could comprehend everything, he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me in for a picture, showing off our ripped bodies.
"Hey, try my hat on. I wanna see how you look in it now."
He tossed me the hat he was wearing, but I didn't wear hats. I took care of my hair and I didn't want my hair to get messy. I wanted to look professional, not like a frat bro. Despite that, I found myself wanting to put it on, and so I did. To my surprise, I even turned it backwards just like my best bud. Best bud? I didn't really have a best friend. But Mike was my new best friend. We met at my co-worker's New Year's party and we hit it off really well. I needed a new workout partner to help me stay consistent, so he offered to take me with him every day. He's actually looking for a new roommate so I might move in with him since we get along so well. Makes it more convenient since we plan to hang out and party all the time in the coming year.
I start to realize that my mannerisms are changing, starting to match his. Before I was uptight and professional, a total bore. Now I’m an outgoing, party-loving dudebro. I felt my penis grow erect in my pants and start leaking as I became as horny as Mike, with my length growing to a sexy 9 inches to go alongside his. I doubt that I could pull as much as him with my old size.
"You feeling better, bro?"
"Yeah dude. I feel great! Let's pound some more brewskis and fuck a baddie or two."
"That's what I'm talking about!" Mike gave me a high-five. "You can keep the hat by the way. A memory of the day we met, bro."
And keep it I did. I decided I would wear it everywhere, especially when I was out with him and his bros. I would fit perfectly in with them in a way that my old self would have never.
We returned to the party with even more beers in our hands, and me and Mike chugged every last one of them. We drank the most beers out of anyone in the party combined. My coworker caught the two of us causing a scene and kicked us out. He almost didn't recognize me at first, but after seeing me with him, he started to put two and two together. He told Mike that this is why he doesn’t invite him anywhere. I thought my coworker would tell my boss about my conduct, but I didn't really care what happens. It's not my fault I’m a party animal.
"What a buzzkill," Mike said. "Whatever. Let's go back to my place. I took a box of beer with us to finish as we left. They aren't gonna finish themselves."
Midnight was still a few hours away, and all of his bros were at other parties anyways. We sat down on his messy couch and finished what was left of the beers, cheering on our team and playing loud music. Didn't matter where we were or who we were with, we were the life of the party. My bro became pent up after not being able to get any action tonight and so was I. I offered to suck him off. After all, it's not gay to suck a homie off, and so we got off together. Getting head from him was almost as good as a hot babe. I’ve never had a guy blow me before. Neither of us could tell the other how much we really enjoyed it without the fear of being called gay.
After we both released our loads, we passed out from all the alcohol we drank, him on top of me. I don't think I ever drank this much in my life, and it was just one night. We woke up, looking like a total mess on the couch. Damn, we slept past midnight. I was still wearing his hat. I thought I would wake up and find out this was all a dream, but nah. I’m still Mike’s douchey best friend. But I smiled, knowing that we would always have each other’s back.
"Happy New Year’s, bro." I said.
"Happy New Year’s! Now tell me your real New Year's resolution, dude?" Mike answered, obviously hungover.
"I wanna party and fuck all year long!"
"Fuck yeah, bro!" He gave me a strong, brotherly hug. He told me about a rager that one of his friends was hosting tonight. All of his bros are invited and so am I, and some hot babes are gonna be there. This was the life I always wished I had, and this year, it will be my life.
New Blood (Chapter 2)
This is the second half of New Blood. If you haven't already, please read the first part here:
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--Braden POV--
It’s been two weeks since Jacob changed into a jock. I almost didn’t recognize him at first. He seemed pretty chill when I saw him first, but now he acted like a spitting image of Zach and even started to look the part too. I even heard rumors that they started dating, which was a surprise to me because Zach always came off as straight to me.
It was just like what happened with Bradley. They would start hanging out more and more with Zach, and then the next time you see them, they become freakishly huge and start playing football. I’ve seen it happen twice, but I am certain it has happened before. It wasn’t the first time I saw someone in my class walk in looking like they took steroids overnight, but it was uncommon enough for it to not be a noticeable problem.
Even worse, I know he’s still at it. I’ve seen Zach and “Jake” talking to a guy I know in my class, Charlie. If I had to guess, he’s their next victim, but knowing him, I’m sure he’d be begging to join them. He’s openly gay and he’s always thirsted over the guys on the football team, even preferring my brother “Brad” over me. Zach probably has him wrapped around his finger at this point. Honestly, I felt bad for him for being that desperate. I knew it would be impossible to convince someone that down bad.
One thing became clear to me after the past several months. Zach was obviously getting closer to people in order to convince them to join the football team and become jocks like him. I’ve seen it happen multiple times, and at this point, he’s gone too far. I could try to tell the school about what he has been doing, but without definitive proof, I would just look crazy. The school obviously wouldn’t care anyways because they would benefit from a better football team to put their school’s name on the board.
As far as I know, no one in the school really seems to notice or care about people changing before their very eyes. They are completely oblivious. They don’t even care that they could be the one chosen to be targeted next. I’m basically all on my own here. This has to have been happening for almost a year at this point and I have to do something. I have to stop Zach and the rest of the team from turning these students into meathead jocks.
I began to investigate Zach and the rest of the football team. I went down the roster and made a list of every person who I definitely knew had been turned into a jock. There were a few more than I had expected to be honest. About thirty percent, I believe. These people had all gone through the drastic changes involved with joining the team, including the increased body growth.
There was one person who I specifically wanted to find information on, Zach. I decided to browse his Instagram to find even a hint of any tangible evidence that I could use against him. He had a lot of photos, with most of the recent ones being him showing off his body or partying. I wouldn’t expect much else from a douchebag like him. Although my investigation did not bear much fruit, I did find something interesting. As I scrolled through his old photos, I saw a boy both similar, yet entirely different to the cocky, muscular quarterback I knew. Was he one of the ones that was changed too?
The photo, about two years ago, showed an entirely different Zach. He was certainly still tall for his age, and definitely still taller than I am now. He was more on the skinnier side, however, and his face had softer, more boyish features compared to his more chiseled self. He had a longer hairstyle which contrasted with the short style he was rocking now. He still had the same verdant green eyes, although they had a more innocent look compared to the confidence his current self was full of. If you had shown me this picture without any of the information I know, I would’ve thought this was his cute little brother.
The more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder. How did he do it? Him being one of the earlier guys to transform combined with him being the quarterback and the team captain led me to believe that he had to be one of the first, perhaps being the prototype.
I saw another photo of the old Zach from three years ago. It was him with two older men at a football game, each one of them adorning a jersey to match with the others in the crowded stadium. The man next to Zach bore enough similarities with him that I assumed that he was his father, but the other man’s identity was still a mystery. The face looked familiar however, but I figured it was just a coincidence. Maybe he was an uncle or an old family friend? Either way, I came to the conclusion that Zach was likely always into football even at a young age. I wouldn’t find it surprising that he would want to play football, but anyone with eyes could see that it would be impossible to achieve that kind of body in just two years even with nonstop training and a strict diet. I considered the possibility that steroids could have been involved, but how would he be able to even get his hands on them, let alone supply them to that many people?
I then tried to broaden my perspective a bit, and an interesting theory entered my mind. The football coach would obviously know of the changes, right? He couldn’t just turn a blind eye after some guys just randomly became jocks and wanted to join the team, right? In fact, he would have much to gain by turning his players into the ideal version of a high school football player. Stronger players mean more wins. More wins mean more success for the team and for the school. No wonder why the school doesn’t care. They are directly benefiting from this!
So I decided that I would dig deeper on the coach. Unsurprisingly, he was a former football player and coach, but decided to move to this town about three to four years ago. At the college he went to, he majored in psychology. I found the pair between football and psychology to be a strange fit, with very little overlap. But then I started to think. He obviously knows a lot about the human mind. Maybe that’s why the guys on the team like Bradley and Jacob came out acting like entirely different people. He had to have done something to them subconsciously, perhaps some form of hypnosis or brainwashing. Bradley would often mention things that obviously never happened, so I am sure his memories were tampered with. I would know. I’ve known him my entire life and he never cared about sports before now. Just as I had figured out a hypothesis on how they might have changed mentally, I still didn’t know how their bodies might have changed. I defaulted to my original idea, steroids, but I didn’t know how a high school coach would get steroids for his players. Surely he’s smart enough to want to avoid that scandal.
I remembered the coach’s face. I’ve definitely seen it before at least once at school, but it was also the other man in the photo with Zach! So it seems that the coach knew Zach before he became a jock. I’m guessing he and his father were close? If I’m on the right track, Zach could have been his guinea pig for his experiments, since he would have to be one of the first guys to undergo the jock transformation.
I wrote all of the important evidence I had into a document, but then I heard the front door open. Shit, Brad, no, Bradley came home early from football practice! I quickly saved the document onto my flash drive, and hid it in my pocket. We shared the same computer, so I couldn’t risk him finding it, even though he would probably just look up sports statistics or porn instead. Bradley was seemingly unaware by the time he entered our shared room.
“Hey bro,” Bradley said. “Doing homework already? You’re a much harder worker than me, bro.” The old Bradley would never say bro. And he was arguably a better student than me.
“Yeah,” I responded, sarcastically. I was honestly getting tired of him after all that has been going on. “Not that you would know anything about studying, you dumb brute.” I grabbed my things and left for the living room, not wanting to be anywhere near my changed brother, nor near his sweaty, unwashed clothes that he left on the floor.
“What’s wrong bro?” Bradley followed me, his large feet stomping on the floor with every step. “You not feeling alright? I’m going on a run in a little bit if you want to come with. It’ll help clear your head.” I was fuming at his ignorance. It was at this moment that I burst.
“You are what’s wrong ‘bro’! Ever since you started hanging out with Zach and joined the football team, you’ve been completely unrecognizable! You’re just another jock now!”
“So what? I like being on the team and I like hanging out with the guys.”
“Is that really you in there or is that Zach or Coach doing the talking for you? You were never like this before you met them. I know that they changed you!” I realized I may have said too much.
“I guess they did rub off on me a little, but I did this for me, bro,” I rolled my eyes at the idea that anyone would willingly agree to be transformed into a jock. “I know you and I have grown apart these past couple months, but I just want us to get along again like we used to, bro. No matter what.” He reached out for a hug, but I pushed him away. The man in front of me was not my brother. Besides, he’d probably break a bone or two.
“You are not my ‘bro’! If you want us to be brothers again, you can start by quitting the team. You’re never gonna get anywhere in life by throwing footballs and getting concussions.”
“You’ll never understand, little bro.” Bradley seemed disappointed, and left through the front door, likely going on another one of his runs. I felt a wave of anger and shame rush over me, not just at my foolish brother, but at myself for being unable to connect with him. The rest of the night went by as usual, only we were even more cold towards each other than we were earlier. Dinner was incredibly awkward, with our tension hanging over the dinner table. We avoided eye contact and didn’t even say a word to each other the whole night. As I tried to fall asleep, I knew that we couldn’t keep living like this. Something needed to change.
--Jake POV--
I woke up to the sound of an alarm in Zach’s warm embrace, his toned arms barely wrapped around my new, larger body. His thick legs tangled in between mine like a knot and his 9-inch serpent in his jockstrap pressed against my back. I had slept the night at his place again, but it was pretty common these days now that we were officially a couple. We saw each other almost every day, whether it was at school, practice, the gym, or watching football together on Sunday. The other bros grew a little jealous of us, but it’s a little hard not to be.
I thought about what happened the other day. Memories of the lessons prior were drowned out by the practice, and by me and Zach recruiting the newbie to the team. You see, Zach was not only the team captain and our star quarterback. He was also responsible for recruiting new members to the team and getting people interested in football, and he asked me to help him out, which I obviously agreed to.
Obviously I now know how the recruitment process actually works, seeing as he had done it to me weeks ago, but it is different watching it compared to seeing it happen to yourself. Unlike me, the new recruit took less time and was very eager to join the team. Charlie was a nerdy kid, and gay too, but he had a slight interest in football, but mainly for the hot guys who played it. I empathized with him, seeing as I was lusting over Zach just weeks ago. Naturally, me and Zach helped him realize that he could be one of those hot football jocks who he jerked off to, while also allowing him to appreciate the art of the game on more than a surface level. I watched Charlie transform and he was already in love with his new body and jock persona. He’s now one of the guys he’s thirsted for, and maybe if he’s lucky, he can get to suck off one of the bros. I don’t think any of them are gay, though, but if little bro tries to make a move on Zach though, I’ll beat the shit out of him. Maybe I’ll try to hook him up with another new gay recruit.
I heard a buzzing sound from the nightstand in front of me. I grabbed my phone, which lit up in the dark room. My new lock screen was a picture of me and Zach, our arms over each other’s shoulders, in our football uniforms after a hard-fought victory. Brad had messaged the group chat and it seemed like he had something important to share.
“hey bros my little bro braden is mad at me for joining the team and i think he knos about wat teh team is doin hes obv mizrabl and i want us to get along agan think zach and coach can turn him into a jock liek me?”
I remembered Braden and how antagonistic he acted towards me and the other members of the team. I still haven’t forgiven him for being so judgmental towards us. We just wanted to play football and be bros together. What was wrong with that? Judging from what Brad said, it is clear that he’s already gathering evidence on us just like he had said, as he knows about not just Zach, but Coach too. If the secrets of our program leaks, it could be very bad news. Because he was an enemy to the team, he was an enemy to me. However, I felt like I could forgive him if he joined us. Plus, I wanted him to see firsthand why we loved this lifestyle so much. I responded in the group chat.
“yea we shud do it b4 he trys telling any1 he knows about zach alredy and he knows i changed and tryd to warn me lets talk after practice”
Zach started to rise from his slumber, realizing that he had slept past his alarm and he gave me a kiss on the lips. I informed him of the situation with Braden and he agreed that this was probably the best option. I didn’t care if he would try to resist us, but he needed to know that we were not to be fucked with. Zach went downstairs to make breakfast for the two of us while I got ready for school.
I changed into one of Zach’s T-shirts that he let me wear and a pair of basketball shorts, and then I put on my hat, adorned with the team’s logo, and twisted the brim backward. Damn, I looked good. I got turned on by the man staring back at me in the mirror, with his toned body and cocky smirk that showed everyone that he was on top of the world. I could tell that my transformation was corrupting me, but in the best way possible. I loved it. This was everything I ever wanted.
On my plate were eggs, bacon, and peanut butter toast. Zach didn’t take his studies too seriously but at least he knew how to cook a good, protein-rich meal. It was a feast fit for muscular kings like ourselves. I chugged the protein shake that he made for me, rich with a chocolate flavor, before we got into my car and drove to school.
We arrived at school, sat through a bunch of boring lectures, and as soon as that was over, we went straight to practice. Earlier in the day, I bumped into Braden to show him who he was up against. He just glared back at me. It was an odd feeling knowing the power I had over others, but the idea of being stronger and better than everyone made me hard. While we waited for Coach to arrive, we discussed what to do about Braden. Charlie said that he had final period with him and that he looked at him funny. I found the coincidence that Charlie shared a class with him to be quite hilarious, and I imagined the irony of the situation to drive him insane. Brad said that his mom was going out of town for the week to visit family and his dad worked late hours, so he would have no one to pick him up.
With that information, I devised a plan. Since Brad would probably have to pick up Braden from school, we could use this opportunity in our favor and get him alone with us. Since we have practice tomorrow, he will have to stay until after we are finished, so as long as we can keep track of him, we should be able to take him to the locker room in order to be transformed. With the plan ready to go, we started practice. After that, me and Zach went to the gym and my biceps were swollen after a hard workout. I definitely reached a new high today, and I felt great. Zach decided to spend the night at my place as we tried to iron out any potential flaws in our plan. Zach seemed proud that I was taking an active role in the team.
“Hey bro, you’re doing a great job helping me to keep this team going. Whether it’s winning games, or helping out during practice, or giving new recruits the sweet taste of what it’s like to be a jock, you’re really awesome. When I first met you, I never imagined you would make this great of a jock.”
I blushed. No one had ever praised me that much. “What can I say bro? I learned from the best,” I responded as I kissed him. He wrapped his arms and body around me and spooned me like the night before. As I drifted to sleep, I reflected on Zach and the other guys on the team. They brought out the best in me. I fought for my life for them on the field just as they did for me. Off the field, they were like the brothers I never had. But Zach was the only person I felt truly understood me on a personal level. He made me who I am and he showed me how to make other guys as great as we are. And I eagerly awaited tomorrow when we would have yet another new recruit.
--Braden POV--
Looks like the jocks are at it again. Charlie was officially turned into yet another musclehead jock. We were kinda close, since we talked a bit during class, and I genuinely did get along with him despite his preference for jocks. To be honest, I thought he was kinda cute, but all he would talk about is how hot the football guys were which was a turn-off to me. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he gave in to them. I’m sure he’ll have a great time taking dick in the locker room like he always dreamed of.
It was at this point that I finally developed a plan to put an end to the football team’s schemes. I learned the other day that my mom was going to visit family for the week, so I would be alone with “Brad” until my dad got home. Normally this would be a nightmare for me, since I’d have to stay at school until after his practice since he would be responsible for driving me home. I decided that while he and the other jocks were at practice, I would sneak into the locker room in order to find any evidence that these guys were turning into jocks. The more the better, but even just one piece of evidence would surely be enough to raise some suspicion against them. If I find any incriminating evidence, I’ll report it straight to the school and the police. It’s all up to me at this point.
After class, I went to the library to get some peace and quiet and to get a headstart on some homework before commencing with my operation. I found it hard to concentrate because I was so on edge. I figured I wouldn’t have any problems since practice was still over an hour long, but the anticipation was killing me. I was also distracted by heavy stomping outside. It was after school! Couldn’t they keep it down at least a little? And then, even though I should’ve been alone, I heard someone else enter the library.
It was Charlie! What was he doing here? Shouldn’t he be at practice? He was still wearing his uniform too. I had to admit, his new look did suit him. I found myself staring at his nice round bubble butt. It was always on the larger side, but it had to look even bigger now. His football pants helped to emphasize his best features. What am I even saying? Even if he was objectively more handsome, any attraction I would have for him would vanish as soon as he opened his dumb mouth.
“Hey, Brady! I didn’t know you were still here,” Charlie greeted me with a stupid grin on his face. I hated that he was trying so hard to be friendly with me.
“Yeah, Bradley has to pick me up today,” I responded. Surely just putting up with him would get him off my back for a while. The last thing I wanted was for him to interfere with my plans. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at practice.”
“I forgot my book in class, so I went to go get it really quick. But then, I saw you. Brad did say that he would be picking you up today.” What an odd excuse. I couldn’t imagine the coach letting him leave practice early for a stupid reason like that.
“Couldn’t you just go after practice? Like don’t you have better things to do?”
“I told Coach I’d be quick. Plus, I wanted to see you!” He wrapped his meaty arm around my scrawny shoulder. I could smell a strong waft from his armpit, from the sweat of a hard workout. I would’ve pushed him off me, but there was little point fighting back against a man as strong as he is. It was a friendly gesture anyways.
“I’m kinda sad that we don’t talk much, bro. I know I spend a lot of time on the football team, but I would’ve liked to get to know you better. I think you should join the team so we can hang out more.”
“I’m not…” my annoyant tone was paused as Charlie pushed his face into mine. He was kissing me? I had to admit, he was a good kisser, both strong and passionate. I wasn’t sure if he was naturally like this or if his jock side made him a better kisser. As our lips parted, I felt my face turn beet red. I was overwhelmed, embarrassed, confused, furious, annoyed…No. I couldn’t find any one word to describe how I felt. I knew I wasn’t supposed to kiss him, but it did genuinely feel nice even if I couldn’t stand Charlie the jock. I had to get it together. He was obviously trying to mess with me, but my answer stayed the same. “I’m not joining the team.”
“Yes you are,” a voice said as a set of hands grabbed me from behind. Before I could call out for help, one of the firm hands covered my mouth, deafening my cries for help. Fuck, it was Jake! He must’ve snuck in while I was distracted and disoriented. He effortlessly picked me up and shoved me into a black gym bag. I was trapped. I couldn’t see a thing and no one could hear me either. It was a tight fit and I couldn’t fight back against the scent of old, sweaty gym clothes.
“Good work, little bro,” Jake said as he high-fived Charlie. “Now let’s take him to the locker room.” Shit, they were already one step ahead of me. I had to admit, these meathead jocks were smarter than I thought. I remembered Charlie’s words and I realized what they were going to do to me. They were planning to turn me into a jock! This cannot be happening. As I tried to think of a plan to get out of this situation, my mind became clouded by the intoxicating scent inside the bag. I hated the smell of sweat and musk, but for some reason, I started to feel a little hard. For some reason, I picked up one of the articles of clothing, a sweaty unwashed jockstrap, and out of curiosity, I found myself sniffing it. I became distracted by the pungent smell momentarily as I was carried to my destination.
When I finally saw light again, I was surrounded by a horde of members of the football team in the locker room. They all stood in a circle and they looked like predators, and I was their prey. I contemplated the idea of running, but I knew it was physically impossible to outrun even one of them with their superior athletic abilities. I thought about begging for mercy, but I knew they could not be reasoned with and because of my pride, I didn’t want me to come across as weak. Brad walked over to me, carrying an entire football uniform that seemed way too big for me.
“Put them on, bro,” he ordered. I obliged, seeing as I no longer had any say in the matter. I felt a sense of embarrassment because the clothes were way too big on me. It felt like I was a kid trying to wear his dad’s clothes.
“You’ll grow into it, trust me,” Jake said, his hand on Zach's shoulder, a proud smirk plastered on his face. My worst fears were realized. I didn’t know how but they were going to turn me into one of them, yet another jock.
“You’re probably wondering why we brought you here, little bro. Well, we know you’ve been trying to get in our way. You’re the only student in this school who knows or even cares what we do. You’re the minority, bro,” Brad explained. He reached into my backpack which he was holding and pulled out the flash drive that stored all my evidence. “I noticed that you were trying to hide this the other day when I came in. You might just think I’m a ‘dumb brute’ but even I couldn’t miss something that obvious. I wonder why you had to hide it, bro…” he teased as he inserted it into a laptop on one of the benches. It didn’t take long for him to find the document I used to share my findings.
“Well, well…” Zach teased. “Looks like someone did their research. I’m kinda impressed at how much you use your brain, bro. Too bad you won’t be needing it for much anymore.” He then proceeded to delete the file as my hard work was erased from the flash drive. I felt mortified as my hard work was all for nothing and I realized what was going to become my fate. I then heard footsteps coming in from outside.
“I believe this is our first time meeting,” a commanding voice stated. From the way he spoke, I felt any amount of defiance I still had in me turn into submissiveness, like a father catching his son sneaking out at night. “It seems you already know who I am, but I’m Coach Myers. I’m sure you’re full of questions, and don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of time to answer every last one of them.”
I was looking at the man in charge, the mastermind behind all of the jocks who were transformed. I had so much I wanted to ask him, both out of curiosity and anger, that I didn’t know where to start.
“What caused you to turn these students into jocks?” I asked.
“Good question. I was always interested in bringing out the best in one’s self, but I never knew where to start until recently. Me and Zach’s father were close friends in the NFL. As a result, Zach always looked up to me, but even though he wanted to be a football player like his father, he wasn’t able to cut it.”
I looked at Zach, who normally seemed very confident and arrogant, but for the first time since I’ve seen him, for just a split second, he felt humbled, reminded of his shortcomings. For once, I kinda felt bad for the guy even though I thought he was a total douche. Despite the sob story, I still realized that what he had done was too far.
“He approached me in tears one day. He wished he was stronger, wished he was more like the guys he looked up to at school. And that’s when I realized that maybe I could help him. And so we spent almost a year studying ways to transform his body and even his mind into the perfect football player. And eventually, we succeeded. Zach was exactly the person he dreamed of being.”
I now knew why and how it began. Zach was the first, the alpha. But why did he keep doing it? “You helped to make Zach who he is now, but why did you continue to do it to other students?” I asked.
“I’m glad you asked. Although changing Zach was my finest achievement, I realized that there were many kids his age who were just like him. Some felt inadequate, incomplete, inferior, and some just lacked any purpose in general. So I gave these boys that purpose, and I made them into the strong men that they always dreamed of being. And not just in this school. High schools and colleges all across America are doing the exact same thing we are doing, all thanks to my innovations.”
I was shocked by this revelation. This jock problem was happening at an even larger scale than I could’ve possibly imagined. Surely there had to have been hundreds of guys turned into jocks just like here at this school, perhaps even some of the ones that tried to oppose them like me. I realized how hopeless I felt.
“I know my research is unethical but I believe that what I am doing is right. But back to you, do you not feel at least a little envious of your brother?”
I looked over at Brad…why was I calling him Brad? I have to admit, I was always a little jealous of him. He always seemed to be the favorite child, and now that he’s been jocked and has joined the football team, he’s infinitely more popular than me. If I were just like him, then maybe…No. That’s what he wants me to think. But at the same time, I could imagine myself becoming as strong as him, becoming as popular as him.
And then I realized the futility of this decision. They were going to turn me into a jock anyways. But for some reason, I had warmed up to the idea, in a way that would’ve sickened me just an hour earlier. Maybe I was experiencing Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe I did feel envious of Brad this whole time just like how Coach Myers described.
“Coach can make you just like he made me. We’ll finally get along again, and we can bond better than we ever could before. What do you say bro?” Brad asked.
I looked at my brother, then around to the other jocks around me, then finally to Coach. If I said yes, then I would have a brother again. I’ll be more attractive and more popular and maybe I’ll even be happier this way. Maybe Charlie will want to go out with me. But that would mean erasing who I am to become yet another jock. That I would lose and all of this would be for nothing. Who am I kidding? I already lost. I was doomed to become a jock the moment I tried to intervene in their plans. But you know, maybe this isn’t so bad. I tried to imagine my jock life with a newfound sense of optimism.
“You’ll have to consent to joining the team before we can move forward,” Coach informed me.
“Enough with your monologue, I’ll do it,” I answered, with a sense of humiliation as I surrendered. However, there was a slight smirk on my face, either from embarrassment or from how absurd my situation really was.
“That took less time than I expected,” Coach responded. “The rest of you, resume practice drills. Braden, come with me.” I obliged, anticipating what the Coach had in store for me. I signed a form, put on some earbuds, and put the helmet on.
As the hypnotic video in front of me played, I slowly became entranced by the spiral that was sucking me into my new life as I felt parts of my mind become erased, including any part of me that still tried to resist this. “I wanted this,” I thought to myself as new thoughts and memories started to fill the gaps in my mind. It was like a computer deleting old files that weren’t important in order to make room for stuff that mattered way more. I always looked up to my brother Brad, as he was a year older than me. He was incredibly talented at football, so naturally, I followed in his footsteps. Being younger, I was less experienced than him, but he was a good role model and I aspired to match him as a player. He was like the touchdown in the endzone and I was at the 50 yard line to put it in better terms.
My body changed entirely. Every muscle in my body expanded, like I was being pumped full of air. My football uniform that was way too big at first, soon fit me like a glove. It was a little painful at first, but I soon felt a wave of euphoria rush over me as I became obsessed with my body, especially my new dick, which more than doubled in size to a massive 10 inches. I started to resemble the new Brad, with the same short buzzcut. Before we didn’t look much alike. Brad was always more on the chubby side and I was on the skinnier side. But now, we could almost pass as twins. You could still tell which one of us was the little brother though.
This is who I am. This is who I always was. I am a football jock. I started to love the idea of playing sports and working out, along with other things. Except I always did? Part of me remembered thinking the jocks were stupid, arrogant, and annoying brutes, but that’s wrong because all my friends are jocks and they are really cool, bro. Bro. Bro, bro, bro…I’m starting to like that word, dude. Eventually I woke up, without any knowledge of what had taken place today, reveling in my new changes.
“I take it you won’t be a problem anymore, kid?” Coach inquired.
“No Coach! I’m sorry for causing you trouble dude,” I answered. Part of me felt off, and I felt confused for a second. I wondered what got me in trouble, but I shrugged it off because I don’t think about that kind of stuff.
“I did keep some of your smarts, unlike the others, but you definitely won’t come off that way. Your grades were better than the rest and I figured it’d be a waste if they were to completely go away. How would you like to help me expand upon my research?”
“That’d be awesome, sir!” I answered. My new self couldn’t comprehend the irony that I would be directly helping Coach with the very schemes I was trying so hard to stop in the first place. But why would I ever want to put an end to the very thing that made me who I am now? I didn’t look or act the part, but I’m kinda smart I guess. I’m not a fucking nerd or a know-it-all though. Not that I really want to use my brain more than I have to except for counting calories and football plays. I was interested in turning more men into awesome jocks like me though. “Can I go back to practice?”
“Yeah, go meet up with the other boys. I’ll be out in a sec.”
I joined my fellow bros and we resumed practice. Playing football just felt natural to me. We held a party after the game on Friday to celebrate our win. We were on a huge winning streak. We hadn’t even lost once this season! At the party, Charlie asked me out, impressed with my masculine new look. Turns out he did like me back after all. He kissed me in the library after all, although I don’t remember why we were there in the first place. He was always kinda hot, so I said yes, and we quickly realized how much chemistry we had beyond being bros. We were soon the second couple on the team, the other being Jake and Zach, who were a year above us, who were just as cool. Nothing wrong with some bro on bro action after all.
Me and Brad had a bit of a fight a while ago, but we’re cool now. I’m even closer with my big bro than I had ever been before, especially now that we’re on the team together. I loved life with my bros and I knew my bros loved their lives too. After practice, I would stay after with Coach and Zach and we would look into ways to create more and even better jocks. I haven’t been filled in on the finer details yet, but I know that they have big plans not only for this school, but for other schools as well. I found this purpose along with playing football to be much more compelling to me than anything else. If there was a part of me that was upset about this life, it definitely wasn’t there anymore because I loved being a jock.
--Zach POV--
I spent the night at Jake’s place again. Today was a long day though. Between practice and all the stuff with Braden, I was exhausted. It did feel like everything was resolved though, and I felt satisfied knowing that our secrets were safe now. I laid in Jake’s bed and I talked with him.
“Another jock well done bro,” I said, as I wrapped my arms around and kissed my boyfriend.
“We were awesome today,” Jake responded. “I can tell that Braden is already loving his new jock body. Glad he could finally see the light, bro.”
“Can’t blame him. I have no regrets about anything though, even Braden. How about you bro?”
“Me neither. I love being a jock and I love making my bros into jocks too. I’m with you every step of the way, bro.”
“That’s my bro!” I rustled Jake’s hair before leaning in for a kiss. For the first time ever, I felt completely content with my life. I have Jake, Coach, and all my other bros to support me. I’m the captain and star quarterback of the football team and I carry us to victory every game. The jock life is perfect for me and for all my bros. If even Braden could see how awesome it was, I knew that anyone could if given the chance. I got hard as I imagined what it would be like if every guy at school was as strong and handsome as me. If everyone was a jock. With Jake on my side and everyone else, I knew we could take on anything, anyone. Maybe even the world. “We still have lots of work to do.”
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This is the end of this series for now, so thank you for reading it. I'm open to expanding upon it even more in the future if the demand is high enough and if I have ideas on where to take it. I also have a lot of other shorter transformation story ideas that I want to write eventually, so stay tuned.
The Jockrooms
I hated gym class. I wasn't athletic and I didn’t like playing sports. Worst of all, I was stuck with the dumb jocks in my class. Today, one of them, Kyle, threw a dodgeball right at my face. The force was immense. As the ball collided with me with the speed of a bullet train, I felt myself lose my balance and I tumbled onto the ground. I sat on the ground in a daze, my head spinning from the raw power exerted from the ball. If he threw it any harder, I’d be sent to the nurse.
Kyle was one of the tallest guys in the school, towering at an impressive 6’4, and he was just as strong as he was tall. He was huge and he made sure that everyone knew it. He was proof that God picked favorites in terms of genetics. The guy had pretty much everything, except for a working brain. He had little problem asserting dominance on those he viewed as weaker than him. To him, I was yet another easy target with my wimpy constitution.
His jock friends cheered and high-fived him for how savagely he destroyed me. Our gym teacher did nothing to discourage his aggressive behavior, but I wouldn’t expect any less from the football coach. Those were his boys after all. They could probably get away with murder and he’d still cover for them. I sat down on the sidelines, covering my swollen cheek, as I was forced to watch Kyle and his goons dominate the rest of my team.
After what felt like an eternity, the teacher dismissed us to go change and I was relieved. I was still covering my cheek, bruised from the dodgeball that was lobbed at me. I sat down on the bench and opened my locker to change my clothes. I felt a hand bump me as Kyle and his entourage walked past me.
“Sorry about that, bro,” he said, in a condescending manner. “You’re supposed to dodge the ball, not get hit by it. That’s why they call it dodgeball.” I had to admit, that’s the smartest he’s ever sounded.
“Whatever, you dumb jock,” I scoffed, ignoring his “advice” as he and his jock friends walked by. I wasn’t sure if they were snickering at his lame attempt for a joke or at me, but I didn’t really care. I doubt that they had much for brains either, with only sports and sex being the only thing keeping their testosterone-ridden minds running.
I glared over at Kyle while he was changing. I had to give him credit. He was very handsome, and he knew it, but that just made me hate him even more. He was a guy who people either loved or hated, but his arrogant fuckboy attitude would be a turn-off for anyone who wasn’t as shallow as him. I began to wonder why he had to be the one gifted with such a nice body. If I was as strong as him, what would I do?
I finished changing into my regular school attire, but I felt the urge to go to the bathroom. By the time I finished emptying my bladder, the locker room was completely empty. Amidst the ghost town, something caught my eye.
I noticed a door that wasn’t there earlier at the end of the hallway opposite of me. It looked out of place compared to anything I’ve seen in the school. It was crimson with a silver knob. I could hear something coming from the other side of the door, but I couldn’t make out anything. It didn’t sound like construction.
For some reason, I almost felt like it was calling out to me. Even though I needed to get to my next class, I needed to know what was behind the door. My curiosity got the best of me as I put my hand on the handle. It was warm, but not enough to burn my hand. I hesitated for a moment before opening the door and I took my first steps in.
I tried to gather my bearings in this foreign room. The room was very warm, steamy almost, with the smell of sweat lingering in the air. It smelled like our locker room and the heat was far too much, almost like a sauna. I knew I wouldn’t last long in this heat, so I figured it was best to head back to class. I turned around, but instead of reaching for the door, I walked face first into a wall. …This was where I came from, right?
“Hello? Helloooo!” I shouted, hoping someone would come to my rescue. The only voice that responded was my own as my words echoed throughout the room. I sighed. Looks like I’ll have to find my own way out.
I realized that this would not be easy as I looked ahead. I saw rows of lockers all around me and to my horror, the maze stretched out further than I could possibly imagine. This room alone looked larger than the school itself! Why did the school need this many lockers? I decided to follow the line of lockers to find out if there was an exit at the end. I started to hear a buzzing sound, not from the sounds of the lights, but from a different source, along with a voice so quiet that I couldn’t understand what it was saying. I honestly felt like I was hallucinating. Perhaps the ball Kyle threw at me actually put me in a coma.
I followed the row of lockers, the numbers increasing with every step. The bold red lockers complemented the dark walls and white ceiling. As I walked forward, I was tempted by turns and corners, filled with even more lockers. I did not want to risk getting even more lost so I simply walked as close to a straight line as possible. I found myself sweating profusely, drenching my T-shirt and jeans. As I was getting more and more sweaty, I was also getting dehydrated, and there seemed to be no sign of any water fountains. I was surprised that they had not installed any, but that wasn’t even the weirdest thing because nothing made sense here.
My heart sunk as I entered an empty room, a dead end. If whoever built this place had any sense of interior design, there would be a door here. I observed my surroundings, but there seemed to be no sign of any way out. This was going to be longer than I thought. I realized I would have to give an explanation to my teacher about why I was so late, but she would never believe an excuse like this. That is, if I can even find a way out of here. I looked down, surprised to find a bottle of some sort. It looked to be some sort of beverage. It looked to be a sandy brown. I would’ve preferred…no…I desperately needed water, but I would be a fool to ignore any amount of hydration.
I untwisted the cap, and was surprised by the strange smell of the liquid. It didn’t smell foul, but it didn’t smell sweet either. I closed my eyes and took a sip, but I grimaced at the mixture of bitterness and saltiness. The chalky taste lingered in my mouth, but at least it made me feel more alert. Despite the unpleasant taste, I knew it was better than nothing, so I chugged the bottle before dropping it on the ground, making sure not to miss any drop. To my surprise, I felt more full of energy than I ever had before. But for some reason, as my body was starting to digest the drink, I felt as though the room was shrinking before my eyes. Wait, was I getting taller? Maybe this place is messing with my head. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind being a couple inches taller. Maybe Kyle would stop picking on me if I was on his level.
The downside, however, was that I was starting to feel even more sweaty to the point that my clothes were now flooded to the point of no return. I knew they would smell of sweat forever no matter how many times I washed them, so I figured that stripping would be the better option. I can always change back into my gym clothes when I get back. I desperately hoped that I was all alone here so no one would see me in this embarrassing state. I looked at the locker at the end of the room. 1000. The numbers went up to at least 1000? This had to be some kind of sick joke. I was frustrated, but I knew I had to retrace my steps in order to find a way out of here.
A strange idea entered my head after walking into several more dead ends, seemingly out of nowhere. If I went to my own locker, would I find something there? It sounded like a stupid idea since I would miss out on other potential paths, but it just felt right. Besides, I had no other leads. My locker number was 0136. I continued walking back trying to test if my hypothesis was correct. My body was trying to fight back against my exhaustion and my mind was trying to stop itself from being drowned out by the subliminal noise. It felt like this place was messing with me in some way. I had to find a way out of here.
Eventually, my eyes lit up as I turned a corner to find lockers numbered in the 0100s. I felt my body guiding me until I found a locker that appeared to be left open. All of the others were closed, so maybe it had some significance? 0133…0134…0135…0136! I chuckled at the coincidence that my locker would be the one that was different like I knew it would be. Inside, I found yet another one of those same drinks from before, a piece of paper, and a…red jockstrap? I chugged the drink desperate to feel hydrated. For some reason, it tasted better than I remembered. The paper appeared to be some kind of riddle.
“Only this way is right.”
“The combination will show you the light.”
Turns out I was right to come this way. For some reason, it seems like this room was made specifically for me. I was more curious about the second line. “The combination will show you the light.” If my locker number was what led me here, then surely my locker combination would be the next hint. 05-13-34. 51334? I shuddered, knowing that my journey would be a lot longer than I had anticipated. Hopefully this helps me escape from this hell.
I started to wonder who wrote this, but I didn’t even know who built this room in the first place. None of this makes any sense. I might not even be in school anymore. This could be some sort of pocket dimension. I could be dreaming, or I could be in a coma. I looked back in the locker, my eyes fixated on the red jockstrap. It looked like it had already been worn and was a size too big for my skinny frame, but for some reason, I felt an urge to put it on. I stripped out of my dripping boxers and put on the jockstrap.
To my surprise, it actually fit perfectly around my crotch area. I expected to feel uncomfortable, but instead I felt liberated. If only there was a mirror in here. My cock bulged as it stretched out the red fabric. I could’ve sworn it looked bigger, but I knew I was just imagining things. Regardless, I felt faster and full of stamina and virility.
I was not an athlete though. Only the jocks wore jockstraps, and I hated them, but I couldn’t even remember why. Why was I so mad at Kyle earlier? My memories of today started to blur. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t remember anything. I had no comprehension of time anymore. Who knows how long I have been in here. I sprinted ahead down the hallway, with a newfound sense of energy that I had never felt before, as I needed to find locker 51334. The heavy sound of my big feet created a steady rhythm, almost like a drum. My body seemed to move on its own like it was on autopilot.
As I ran forward, the audio grew louder, yet the words remained just as shrouded as they were before. Despite that, I felt like I started to understand the words deep down. A weird contradiction, I know. Wherever the source of the noise was, it had to be coming from that direction. I knew in my heart that this was the right way.
I kept on going for what could’ve been hours. Who even knows at this point. The concept of time was foreign to this place. If you told me I was gone for a week, I’d believe you. I kept on finding the same drinks from earlier on benches scattered around. They were the only thing keeping my head in the game. They gave me strength, but eventually I stopped seeing them as I became reminded by the intense heat of the room and of all the dead ends I had run into. I had to be in the 40000s as I began to feel fatigue again and it felt like my body was finally about to give in. My body felt sore and swollen as if I was still recovering from a workout. Workout? Since when did I care about the gym? Maybe this jockstrap was rubbing off on me more than I thought. But I’ll never be like Kyle or the other jocks, I assured myself.
I kept going. My body was pushing itself to the limit, while my mind started to wander. I became worried that I was gonna miss the game that was on tonight. Me and the bros were going to watch it together and I didn’t want to miss it. I couldn’t even comprehend how unnatural these thoughts felt. I should be thinking about playing the new update for my favorite MMO, not watching sports. But bros always come first…
I felt like I was going crazy, like this giant locker room maze was having an effect on me. I was awakened from my trance by a sudden realization. I needed to get to practice. It was like an alarm clock went off in my head. The last thing I wanted was to get dropped from the team due to poor attendance. This renewed sense of urgency was what kept me going instead of passing out from the heat and exhaustion.
At long last, I was greeted by a room that was surprisingly familiar to me. It felt like a second home to me. It was like the actual locker room in my school, but on a larger scale. I looked at the number next to me. 50000. This had to be the right way. I was almost there. The background noise was at its loudest here, but I still could not find any source, but at this point I didn’t mind it. It honestly helped me calm down a little. I checked every locker in this large room, until I saw it. 51334. It was half open, so I pried it open, with a sense of strength that I had never felt before. Inside the locker, I found another note and a larger bottle of the same drink. I gulped every drop down like I had just found an oasis. This one tasted better even compared to the rest. I read the note, hoping to be free from my prison.
“Inside the locker you will hide”
“The way back is on the flipped side”
I had to get in the locker? It was a weird instruction, but I followed the orders. I was surprised I was able to fit into it with my bulky build. I turned to the other side to read what it said. My eyes widened as I felt a sense of dread run down my spine.
“Close the door but don’t be shocked”
“When you wake up, you’ll be a jock!”
Shit, I didn’t want to become one of the jocks! I valued my intelligence too much to stoop down to their level. But it was already too late as the door shut itself on its own and I felt the ground below me vibrate. Was this truly the only way out or was I doomed to join them from the start? I tried to break my way free, but my strength dwindled as my eyes dulled and I passed out from exhaustion.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I woke up on one of the benches to the sound of metal and heavy chatter. To my relief, I was finally back in the real world. The football team was getting ready for practice. Damn, I really did miss the whole day. To make things worse, Kyle was standing right over me. Great. Despite everything though, I actually kinda missed him. That was probably the first sign that something was very wrong with me.
“Bro, wake up!” he said as he shook me. I looked down. I was dripping in sweat and I was wearing only my jockstrap. The fact that I was wearing the same red jockstrap was proof that it wasn’t a dream. “You alright dude? Coach says you were passed out here for hours!”
I regained my consciousness, surprised to see him concerned for me. “Bro, you’ll never guess what happened. I was in this, like, weird maze, dude. Lockers everywhere.” I was genuinely shocked by the words that came out of my mouth. I sounded like a total dudebro.
“Bro, are you high? What are you talking about?” Kyle chuckled at how absurd I sounded. I felt embarrassed because I honestly sounded as stupid as him.
“I’m not lying, bro! There was a door right there!” I got up and pointed towards where the door should be. It wasn’t there. I looked like I was insane.
“You sure you’re okay after gym, bro? I figured you’d catch that dodgeball since you’re such a good wide receiver. Must’ve gone too hard. Practice should help clear your head.”
“Practice? Wide receiver? What the fuck are you talking about?” I didn’t play any sports. Before today, I didn’t even know any teams outside of famous ones and the ones local to us. I didn’t know any positions, any rules, or any players. If that was the case, then why did it all feel so familiar to me?
“Did you lose your memory or some shit? Let me refresh you, bro. You play football and you’re our wide receiver. You hang out with me and the boys every day. You’re a total jock, bro. You’re hardly a genius, but surely that rings a bell, right dude?” My eyes became fixated on his charming blue eyes, and I felt myself sink into them as if they were the ocean, as he reminded me about my place in the world. Finally, things started to make sense…but…
What the fuck? You hated Kyle. You didn’t play football. You weren’t friends! But for some reason, that didn’t seem right.
You loved Kyle. He was one of your best friends. You guys played football together. You guys basically ruled the school. You didn’t need to think much because you compensated with raw strength and power. Brawn over brains, bro. You were a jock and you always will be one.
“Huhu…Now you’re making sense bro,” I chuckled. I only now realized how much I changed, with how deep my voice was. How much of a cocky douchebag I looked with that smirk plastered on my face. How much bigger and stronger and taller I was. How toned and perfect every muscle in my jock body was. I should hate this, but why does it feel so good? “I had a dream that I was someone else. A total nerd, bro. It was awful.”
“That person never existed. This is who you were and always will be. Just think back to when we met, bro.” He said it with his usual cocky grin, but I felt no malice from it. I assumed he was gaslighting me into believing that I lived a different life, but he seemed genuine. I remembered him cracking up at one of my dumb jokes at practice and we started hanging out both in and out of school. Memories of the practices and football games and parties we shared filled my mind and I smiled as I looked fondly back on those days. No…I shouldn’t remember this. But for some reason, it all felt real to me, like I accidentally stumbled into some parallel universe where I was one of Kyle’s jock bros.
I felt any semblance of my former self lose control as my jock self remembered that he was the only me. I was an intruder in my jock body, someone that was never there and shouldn’t be there. I felt my thoughts slow down as my new self started overwriting any old memories with his own, and I started to remember who I really was, a jock. I wanted to die inside, watching me become another asshole jock just like Kyle, but as I was fading away, I started to remember why I liked being a jock so much in the first place. I got to be big, strong, and popular. I could fuck anyone I wanted with my massive cock. Who cared if I was a little dense? Definitely outweighed being a fucking nerd. I knew it was the jock in me talking, but it didn’t matter anymore because that’s all I was now. My cock bulged further in my jockstrap as my conscious mind was engulfed by my real self.
“Sorry bro, it’s just been a crazy day. Let's get ready for practice.”
“You’re going to practice in just that? Haven’t gotten off yet today, bro?” Kyle chuckled, pointing at my red jockstrap, which was already leaking with precum. I became embarrassed as I noticed the damp stain on my favorite jockstrap. And that Kyle was staring right at my 9 inch bulge.
“Nah, bro. I gotta get changed. Why are you looking at my dick, bro?” I became defensive, not comfortable with one of my bros staring at my erect cock. Kyle was hot and all, but this just felt wrong to me.
Kyle stammered, looking for an excuse. I could’ve sworn that his bulge grew as well in his tight football pants. “I just never realized how big it is, bro. No homo though.” He snickered, trying to ease the sexual tension. “Come on, Coach will be pissed if we take too long. Probably will make us run extra laps.” Before we left, I took one look in the mirror to admire my awesome body before joining Kyle and the others.
I had been playing football ever since I was in middle school so it’s no surprise that I was a natural. I worked up a serious sweat, but it was nothing I wasn’t used to with Coach’s exercises. He worked us to the bone every day. When I came home, my mom was cooking dinner and she asked me how practice was, and I told her good as usual with a smile on my face. For a second, I was surprised my mom knew I played football, but then I remembered that my parents were always supportive of my athletic career. They always dropped their plans to cheer me on at my games.
Later, Kyle invited me and the bros over to watch the game. I went over there as I had done many times before and I was greeted by my bros, people who I’ve known for just as long as Kyle. After all, If they were his bros, they were my bros. We laughed and joked around as we always did until the game started.
We gathered into Kyle’s room, big enough for seven guys, but man did I forget how much we reeked after practice. We always shouted a ton during the game and I’m honestly surprised we never got any noise complaints from the neighbors. It was like our own little frat party hosted in Kyle’s room. We got really into it, but we were devastated when the opposing team scored in the last minute to gain the lead and win the game. A wave of sadness and anger filled the air as everyone started to leave. Everyone but me. Kyle told me to stay for a little bit longer.
“Are you gonna make me feel better or what?” he ordered. He was really upset about the loss.
“How, bro?” I responded. Did he want me to crack a joke for him? Give him a bro hug?
“I figured you remembered. I need someone to relieve my stress.” He grabbed his massive cock in his shorts and wiggled it around, helping me put two and two together. “We found out one drunk night how good of a cocksucker you are, so you agreed to ‘lend me a hand’ if I ever need it. Don’t worry, this is our little secret.”
“Oh, sorry bro. I completely forgot.” God, that was a wild night. It was an embarrassing request, but I knew I was just helping a brother out. I got on my knees and serviced Kyle as he made himself comfortable. He grabbed the back of my head with his firm palms, covered with callouses from years of pumping iron, and pushed his girthy shaft deeper into the depths of my mouth. I was surprised at my lack of a gag reflex as this mass of meat clogged my throat. I swallowed load after load of his hot, sticky semen until we had enough.
“Gotta say, bro, you suck dick better than like 90 percent of chicks I’ve been with. You sure you’re not a little faggy?” he teased. I laughed and rebuked his claims. I’m sure even some straight guys would be tempted by him and his impressive rod, and I’m no different. We quickly changed the subject and we pretended like that never happened. Neither of us wanted the other to know how much we enjoyed it.
To this day, I don’t know what the purpose of the jockrooms was. Doesn’t really matter though. As far as I’ve known, I’ve always been a jock and that’s all anyone has ever seen me as. It is real though. It was after gym class a few weeks later. When we were changing, I saw a nerd, Kevin, walk down the same hallway I did at one point. I felt like I knew him at one point, but that obviously wasn’t true. Why would I hang out with someone like him? I hid around the corner and watched as he approached the red door. I smirked as he put his hand on the door and opened it, taking his first steps into his new life. If you can’t beat us, you might as well join us.
I was eager to see Kevin at practice later. He woke up on the same bench I did, wearing a jockstrap like me, almost completely unrecognizable from the person he was hours ago. He took a moment to adjust, but we helped him remember how much of a jock he was. Once a jock, always a jock. I will never understand why the two of us thought we were nerds before. After all, I’ve known Kev most of my life and I was the one who introduced him to Kyle and the others. He’s been my best friend since 3rd grade and we were inseparable. We were practically in sync on the field. It felt awesome knowing that we were the kings of the school, and whoever hated us was just jealous that they’re not us.
How Things Used To Be
I wonder how long it took me to notice that there was something wrong with Nathan. We had been best friends for years, ever since the 5th grade, and we always hung out together both in and out of school. I was hoping things could’ve stayed like that this summer, but it seemed like fate had other plans. Between family vacations and college prep, it seemed like he didn’t have time for me anymore. And to make it worse, whenever he wasn’t doing that, he was hanging out with some other guys who I had never met, and he never even bothered to ask me if I wanted to come with. I know people grow and change, but I didn’t want to see it happen to my own best friend. On the bright side, we’re going to the same college, so I hope I can see him around.
And I did see him. It was the third week of courses, once I was starting to get acquainted with campus life. For once, I was actually being more social, trying to fill the gap that Nathan left. I used this opportunity to start talking to people in my classes and I found that we had some similar interests. I wish I could say the same for my roommate, but he mostly keeps to himself and we don’t have much in common.
Okay, back to Nathan. I was walking back to the dorms after my last class, texting one of my classmates about the homework. I was interrupted when I walked headfirst into another student. I should’ve been paying more attention to my surroundings. I looked up at the giant in front of me, probably 6’3”, before apologizing.
“James, is that you?” the giant asked. The voice sounded very familiar, yet at the same time, different. I took a closer look at him. “Long time no see, huh?” I was surprised when I realized who it was.
“Nate? Woah, what happened to you?” I couldn’t believe that this person in front of me was my best friend. This was not the same Nathan from three months ago during graduation. He was always a bit taller than me, but he had to have grown at least 3 inches. He used to wear glasses, but it seemed like he switched over to contacts.
In the warm August heat, he was wearing a tank top which revealed his newfound biceps for the whole world to see. The tank top clung closely to his chest and I could see his newly-formed six-pack through the fabric. He was wearing basketball shorts that were short enough that I could catch a glimpse of his thighs, which were just as big as his arms. I never knew Nathan went to the gym, and if he did, he never told me. But still, I couldn’t comprehend how he became so huge in just three months, which made me more curious about what he had been up to. A backwards hat fit tightly atop his head with Greek letters on them. Sigma Lambda Chi… Had Nathan really joined a frat? To be completely honest, he looked like he was cosplaying as a frat bro, a far cry from how I knew him.
“Like what you see, bro?” James chuckled, as he flexed one of his arms. He definitely never came across as a cocky showoff, but I was too distracted by his flexed bicep to notice. I caught myself staring for a second too long, before feeling my face turn red hot. Me and Nathan knew everything about each other, but there was one thing I never told him. I was gay. To tell you the truth, I had a crush on him, but I knew I could never tell him to preserve our friendship. But now he looks even better, and he hasn’t made time for me at all. Now he really felt out of my league.
“I’ve been working out a lot lately. I’m glad you noticed.” He still had his signature smile, but it looked out of place on his new body. His face especially looked a lot more angular and masculine. A visible tan glazed over his body like a fresh coat of paint.
“Daaamn! You look great, dude!” To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to feel talking to him again. On one hand, I was happy to see him again, and, admittedly, a little surprised to see him like this. On the other hand, he ditched me this whole summer to hang out with some other guys. It felt so bittersweet.
“If there weren’t other people around, I’d let you…I mean uh, how have you been bro? I know I’ve been busy a lot lately. Sorry about that, dude.” We told each other what we did over the summer, and wow, was his summer more interesting.
As we caught up, I learned more about what he has been up to. Apparently, he joined a frat and he was hanging out with the guys there more and more. He promised that he’d bring me to a party sometime, but I was hesitant because I’m not much of a party animal. That lifestyle just isn’t for me. He also said he was thinking about joining our school’s football team at the request of his roommate, which I found even more surprising because Nathan never played sports in high school. I did track, but I was never that big into sports myself. Our conversation was interrupted as another guy entered the scene.
“Yo, Nate! Finally found you. You seriously need to get better at texting me back, dude. And who’s this dude?” The guy was wearing the same hat as Nate, so I figured he was one of his frat bros.
“My bad, bro. Brett, this is James. We go way back. James, this is Brett. He’s my roommate. We met over the summer and we’ve been hanging out since.”
“Alright, cool, bro,” Brett responded, clearly impatient and indifferent towards me. He dismissed me entirely, almost like I wasn’t worth his time. “You still going to the gym with me or what?”
“Sorry, bro. I just ran into him and we were catching up.” Nathan responded. “Hey, I gotta get going. We should get food sometime. Peace!” I watched as Nathan and Brett walked away in the opposite direction of me towards the gym. As they moved further away, I could hear Brett chastise him about something. This is the guy that Nathan ditched me for? I hope I’m wrong, but he seemed like kind of a dick. I know I was jealous of him for taking up my best friend’s time, but I didn’t trust him. As for me, I returned to the dorm to work on the assignment with my roommate.
The next time I saw Nate was that weekend, when I held up his promise to get something to eat. I tried to ask him about it earlier in the week, but he was doing stuff at the frat all that time. I was at least grateful that he took time out of his schedule for me for once. He mentioned that he normally doesn’t hang out with anyone who wasn’t in the frat, almost like they were some exclusive bro clique that I was excluded from. For once, it was good to hang out with him one-on-one without any of his frat bros getting in the way. I expected things to be like how they were before, but I couldn’t be any more wrong.
It’s not that I disliked the new Nathan, but I felt like we didn’t have much common ground anymore. It was like he was a completely different person. He didn’t seem to care that much about our old interests anymore. He didn’t have time for video games and he just wasn’t that interested in watching movies or photography anymore. All he seemed to care about was working out all day and partying all night. All he would talk about was some stupid stuff he or one of his bros did.
Plus, he told me he switched his major from mechanical engineering to be a personal trainer. It seemed like he just became a total gym bro overnight. The studious and witty Nathan that I loved kinda just seemed to be a stereotypical meathead now. The worst part was that I knew that this was the same Nathan deep down, and he still treated me the same even if he was a lot busier. I felt like maybe I was the problem since he was clearly still having a good time, and I wasn’t. Why do I feel this way?
I felt my mood change as we talked. Eventually, I figured it was time to cut off the conversation and return to the dorm, but Nathan definitely knew something was off. He texted me later that evening, asking me if everything was alright. To be honest, I wanted to make some lame excuse that I was feeling sick, but we’ve always been honest with each other, so I told him how I really felt.
Me: Nate, to be honest, I think I need some time away from you. I don’t hate you or anything, but it feels like we’ve been growing apart and I feel like you’ve become a different person. I feel like when I look at you, I don’t see the Nathan I’ve known for years, but someone else entirely.
I wanted to say more about how I felt about his new changes, but I didn’t want to escalate things.
Nathan: James, I’m sorry you feel that way about me. I felt like we had a good time today. I’ve grown and changed a lot recently, and I’ve realized a lot about myself, but I’m happy with who I am right now. I know I’m spending a lot of time at the gym or with Brett or my other bros, but I still care about you deeply, bro. You might be right though. Hanging out with you isn’t the same as hanging with the guys at the frat.
Me: Do you honestly see yourself as just a frat boy? You’re more than that. You’re my best friend. But now, you have more in common with the jocks from high school than the Nathan I knew. It’s hard talking to you now since all you care about anymore are your gains and partying. You’re nothing more than a meathead now.
Nathan: So that’s how you see me, bro? The reason I had been avoiding you is because I knew that you wouldn’t like seeing me like this. I guess I was right, bro. But trust me, I’m happy like this. I’m a lot more social than when I was when I was with you, and I’ve even become more in shape too. I care about our friendship more than you can possibly imagine, but I guess this is for the best. To be honest, I think it would be a lot of fun if you were here in the frat with me, but I know you wouldn’t say yes.
I didn’t bother responding. I could never picture myself joining a frat. I would never get along with his frat bro friends, especially Brett, who seemed to be the one he was closest with. I still couldn’t believe Nate would choose him over me. I wasn’t sure whether to feel angry, or sad, or disappointed towards him. I felt like he was wasting his life partying when he should be studying. To think this was the person I cared about more than anyone. It was at this point that I figured I probably wouldn’t have my old friend back. Or so I thought.
A couple weeks passed and I tried to move on from Nathan. I always saw him on his story drinking and partying late into the night at the frat house or posting selfies at the gym. He looked like he was fully embracing his new frat boy persona now. If he didn’t still care about me, it would’ve felt like he was doing it out of spite. As for me, I started to hang out with my classmates more and more, and there was even a guy I went on a date with. It was a nice date and I did like the guy, but for some reason, the thought of Nathan lingered in my mind. Even though I hated what he had become, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him. I couldn’t deny how much he turned me on. Why was I still thirsting after a stupid fucking frat bro? One afternoon, after I returned to my dorm, I received a text on my phone. To my surprise, it was Nathan.
“Hey bro, can we talk? There are some things I need to get off my chest.”
I didn’t know what he could possibly want with me now. I suppose I can hear him out just so I can see what he wants. I went over to his room further down the hall, and thankfully Brett was not here to ruin the moment. Nate said that he was doing some preparations for some stuff at the frat. When I asked, he didn’t specify what though. It always feels like stuff at the frat is kept under wraps.
“Did you want a drink?”
“Sure.”
“Even if it’s beer?” A mischievous grin appeared on his face. Was he seriously offering me beer? I knew that alcohol wasn’t allowed in the dorms, but clearly that rule didn’t faze him. Obviously he knew how to get his hands on some drinks. To be honest, I had never drank alcohol before, but I figured this would be the easiest way to try it before I turned 21. Plus, it might alleviate the tension between us. Either that or make us fight like two drunkards in a bar.
“Sure, why not.” Nate went to get two bottles for us. I took my first sip and was disgusted by the bitter taste of the beer.
“You don’t like it? Neither did I at first,” Nate chuckled. “After a while, you get used to it.” Nate turned the TV on as we chatted. I apologized about what I said about him last time we talked, but he said it was no big deal. I felt like I was a little too harsh on him. It could just be the alcohol, but I found that I got along with him better than I did weeks ago. As we chatted, my body started to tingle. Was this how it felt like to be drunk?
“Hey, Nate. I feel kinda weird, but not like drunk weird. Is this normal, bro?” I asked. By this point, we both had two drinks each. I didn’t mind the taste of the beer the second time.
“Nah, you’re fine bro.” Nate responded, with a smile on his face. Compared to me, he appeared to be much more sober. “It happens sometimes, especially when you’re not used to it.” I figured he knew best, since he was the one drinking and partying all the time, so I ignored this foreign feeling rushing through my body. I felt as if my body was overheating as I felt my arms and legs throb and pulsate. Sweat was leaking off my armpits and down my forehead. There was part of me that knew that something was off, but it was drowned out by the alcohol. As I took another sip, I felt my arm spasm as I accidentally spilled some beer onto my shirt. Shit, I wasn’t expecting to do laundry later.
“Damn bro, you made a mess. You alright? Do you wanna change your shirt?” Nate asked. I nodded and he quickly went to his room to pick out something for me. It wasn’t the first time I had to wear his clothes. “Sorry about that, bro. First thing I found. Hope it fits you.” It was a stringer tank with Sigma Lambda Chi on it. I bet Nate looked like a walking symbol of the frat wearing that stuff. For some reason, the idea was kinda amusing to me because it seemed so over the top. I wondered how I would look dressed up like that. I’d probably look really stupid.
I stripped out of my wet shirt and changed right in front of him. I caught a whiff from my armpits, and I thought I smelled like a sweaty gym bro. The tank appeared to be a size up and it hung loosely on me. Still, it was better than nothing I guess. Despite that, it had a nice familiar smell to it though. It smelled like Nathan, but at the same time, it had a different flavor to it. He smelled a lot more manly than I remembered. I bet he wore it to the gym often.
Eventually, after my third drink, I went to go to the bathroom. My body was starting to ache, like I had just done a workout with Nate earlier. Workout…Was that what happened earlier? …I think so? Did we work out after class and come back to his place for some brewskis? For some reason, the events of today felt incredibly fuzzy to me. I was starting to forget the reason I was here in the first place.
I clumsily stumbled over my feet which looked bigger than usual. After I took a piss, I looked at myself in the mirror. Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I didn’t always look that big, right? From a first glance, it looked like I was looking through one of those distorted mirrors they have at amusement parks. I had to have been really drunk at this point. I chuckled at the figure in front of me. At this point, I almost looked like one of those frat bros! I decided to flex my arms like they would, oblivious to the fact that they already grew just a little bit, before joining Nate on the couch.
“There you are, big man!” he said as he squeezed my muscles. I have been working out recently, I think. “I thought you passed out in there. Most guys don’t last that long for their first time, but you look good enough for another brewski.”
After downing our fourth drinks, the conversation took a different turn.
“Yo, James. I knew you said you weren’t too big on the idea of joining our frat last time we chatted, but how do you feel now, having thought things over?”
I remembered our last conversation. Honestly, I was so drunk that I didn’t remember why I turned him down in the first place. The idea that seemed unappealing to me at the time seemed like it was perfect for me at this moment. I didn’t even understand why I would be so reluctant to join. I needed to join more than anything else. I would do anything to join, even if I had to completely humiliate myself in front of my fellow bros. At this point, nothing was too extreme for me. The fact that Nate was in it was enough reason to join, so we could hang out more like we used to. Plus, I could get to hang out with all my other bros and drink and party whenever we want.
“I’ve given it some thought, and yeah bro, I’ll join,” my voice slurred as my mouth moved before my mind could. I had committed at this point. No backing out now. I’m a member of Sigma Lambda Chi for life.
“Sweet, bro!” He grabbed me on my far shoulder and pulled me close. “I’m glad you said yes, because I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes, bro.”
I closed my eyes as Nate went into his room to grab something. Did I actually agree to join his frat? I’m not sure what’s going on with me today. When he came back, I felt Nate press on my head as his “surprise” fit tight around it. “You can open them now.”
I realized I was wearing the same hat that Nate always wore, with his frat’s letters printed on it. “We’re gonna be matching now, bro. Isn’t that awesome? I know you’re gonna want to wear it whenever and wherever. But you’re wearing it wrong. Let me fix it for you, dude.” He turned the brim around so it faced my back. As my hat turned backwards, I felt my mind fog up and any tension or brain activity screech to a halt. I was unable to realize what I signed myself up for, unable to protest. My conscious mind was drowned out by the alcohol and this hat was like a lock, sealing it away. Not that I was against this, as a wave of pleasure surged through me. I felt my mind slow down, almost as if it was stuck in molasses, as my thoughts began to simplify. It felt good though...
I would follow the example of my fellow brothers. Look like them, think like them, act like them. Almost like a hivemind of bros, you know, bro? By this point, the changes were irreversible. Nate had turned me into another frat bro just like him.
“Everything worked out as planned, bro. You see, when you, my own best bro, told me you didn’t want to join the frat with me, I was actually really hurt. So I talked to Brett, and had him “work his magic”, to help me do to you what he did to me. I don’t like to lie to you, but it’s a frat secret, so now you get to know bro. Like I said, it’s a secret, so don’t talk about this with anyone.”
“Don’t worry about it bro. It’s all…uh…
Fuck dude, what’s the word…water under the bridge? Huhuhu…” I really had to think about that one. I found it harder to articulate and use complex words, as I mainly just spoke in bro-speak. To be honest, I wasn’t really that upset that he lied to me. He did what he had to as a member of the frat. I never stayed mad at one of my bros for very long.
“Now we get to be brothers for life,” he said as he gave me a big bro hug. We clung to each other like two giant masses of muscle. My huge biceps wrapped around his firm back as his did for me. Afterwards, he handed me my fifth drink and we cheered to me joining Sigma Lambda Chi. He laid down all of the rules, what everything was like, telling me about the coolest guys there, and so on. He said he’d bring me to the frat house and introduce me to everyone tomorrow. “They’re gonna love you for sure, bro. I’ve got an eye for cool bros like you.”
As it got later, and we moved on to drink numero 6, I felt myself get very tired as we both passed out on his couch. I woke up a couple hours later, and I looked out the window to see a pitch black sky. Shit, it was almost 10 PM and I had to turn in my assignment at midnight. But for some reason, I didn’t really care right now. I didn’t mind turning in assignments late as long as the teacher still gave me credit. I felt no different from the way I was a couple hours ago, just another Sigma Lambda Chi frat bro, but I liked it. It felt right to me. It was where I, no, where we belonged.
I looked down. Nate’s tank hung tightly to me now. It took me a second to notice my arms…Holy shit, they were fucking huge! I looked awesome, bro. As I admired my new body, Nate was still asleep, his hand on my meaty thigh. Just above that, my dick throbbed through my pants. Fuck, I was so horny for some reason. Eventually, Nate slowly regained consciousness.
“I usually don’t drink this much on a school day,” Nate said, still a little hungover as he rubbed his eyes. We sat in silence for about a minute before he spoke again. “By the way, there was another reason I invited you over. There’s something that’s been on my chest for a while.”
“Go ahead, bro. I can take it,” I responded confidently. My voice sounded deeper and more bro-like than usual, just like him.
“Here goes, dude. I think I like you, bro. Not like you, but I think I like like you. I know it’s hella gay, but I couldn’t stand to see you be so cold to me. That’s why I had to make you a bro like me. I’m sure you’ll love it here, bro. And hey, if you’re not gay, that’s cool. We can forget this shit ever happened and go back to being bros for life.”
At first, I honestly thought I was still dreaming. First, he turned me into a frat boy, and now, he was confessing his feelings to me? How crazier could this night get? For all my life, I thought he was straight. I remembered being glad when he broke up with his girlfriend two years back. I couldn’t stand her. When he joined Sigma Lambda Chi, I assumed he was 100% straight and that he was banging some sorority chicks every night. To think he felt the same way I did all this time.
“Bro, I like you too. When you stopped talking to me, I started to get kinda jealous. I didn’t want to accept you for who you are. But being your bro just isn’t enough for me, bro.” I leaned in for a kiss, my inhibitions still nowhere to be found. It was my first kiss and it was with the person I cherished most. I felt like I was in heaven. I didn’t really care that I was a dumb frat bro like him anymore. I never did. That shit was stupid anyways. But now, Nate fixed our friendship and made us closer than ever. I loved the taste of his lips against mine and I didn’t want it to end but eventually Nate parted our lips.
“Wanna fuck me, bro?” he whispered in my ear. A flirtatious smirk was plastered on his face, and one of his hands was still wrapped around my neck. This was real. I nodded as he took me to his bed. I had never done this before, but I’ve seen plenty of porn, so I knew what to expect. He laid down on his back and stripped naked. I never felt this aroused before. My dick even looked bigger than it used to be. I was so pent up that I felt like I was holding this load in for months. I guess frat bros really are as horny as they say. I lubed up my larger cock before sticking it into Nate’s hole.
My serpent stretched out his tight hole as he had clearly not seen much action down there until now. I pounded his ass as my dick went in and out of him. In and out, in and out, in and out…It was a steady rhythm, my dick was like a metronome. My hands clung to him as I held him in place, pinning him to his bed. My hands ran all over his shoulders, broad and muscular, built like a football player’s. We both felt absolutely euphoric as our deep, masculine moans filled the room. The moans were loud enough that the students on the other side of the wall could easily hear them, but I didn’t care about any noise complaints as I fucked him harder and harder. After half an hour of fucking, he both hit our orgasm at almost exactly the same time. I ejaculated inside his tight hole, my hot, sticky seed flooding his insides as Nate came all over his abs. At this point I was exhausted and still hungover and I basically fell on top of him on his bed. We were both panting and out of breath.
“I knew you were a good fucker, bro.” he whispered seductively as he kissed me. We stayed in that position for several minutes until we heard the door open.
“Yo, Nate! Did you do it? How did it go?” a voice asked, shouting loudly from the other room. I recognized the voice as Brett’s. He peeked into the room, witnessing the two of us cuddling together naked. To be honest, I thought he would’ve been grossed out. Guess I had the wrong idea about him.
“Better than expected, dude,” Nate responded. He didn’t seem to care that we were both naked in front of his roommate and that we just got back from our trip to Pound Town.
“He looks way better this way, don’t you agree, bro? But man, dude, now I know why you wanted him to be a pledge so bad. I was wondering why you wouldn’t fuck any of those sexy sorority babes. More for me, I guess.”
A week passed and by then, I joined the frat officially. Me and Nate started dating shortly after, but none of our bros minded. It didn’t matter if we were gay, we were still brothers. I also learned how Nate met Brett. He was taking a tour of the campus over the summer and he ran into Brett who was recruiting people for the frat. Brett took a liking to him and kinda took him under his wing like some sort of mentor and they started hanging out since he only lived a town away from us. Brett was our age, but he had more seniority and authority because his older brother Brad was very popular within the frat. Turns out Brett and some of the upperclassmen knew how to turn guys into the ideal bros for their frat. They wanted to bolster their numbers to make Sigma Lambda Chi the biggest and coolest frat in the state, with the biggest bros and the biggest parties, and naturally both me and Nate were chosen. Not that either of us minded. Nate joined the football team with Brett and some other guys in the frat, and the rest of us would go watch them play every game. Our section of the stadium was always the loudest and rowdiest, especially when one of our bros scored a touchdown.
Apparently I grew a ton during the night that I was with Nate, but I was too drunk to notice just how massive I had become. It must’ve been something in the beer, huhu. I started working out with Nate and Brett, and sometimes some other bros too. I even ended up changing my major. I chose business because my bros said that it was the easiest shit ever and I wasn’t feeling psychology anymore. I didn’t really feel like thinking much anymore and I found that focusing on education so much was a chore and that I was wasting my college experience. I’d rather be partying and drinking or hanging out with the bros at the frat house, watching sports, playing video games, or playing ball outside. I got to see why Nate grew to enjoy this lifestyle so much, and I was mad at myself for not seeing his point of view sooner.
Three years later, me and Nate are still dating and we’re set to graduate this semester. We’re thinking about getting a place in the city not too far from campus, probably with Brett and another friend of ours to save money on rent. We’ll probably still throw parties every weekend like we used to. College was such a memorable experience and I wish I could live it again. I only have Nate, Brett, and all my other bros to thank for making college awesome for me.
The Bro Cap
Biology was my favorite class this semester. Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore. He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school. Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was. He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball. He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys. A lot of guys wished they could be him. I, however, wanted to be with him. Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind. At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.
I often found myself getting distracted by him. Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle. His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place. His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school. He didn’t come off like the rest of them though. His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks. He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked. Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried. It was no wonder why he was so popular.
Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin. I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention. It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating. The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class. Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him. He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.
“Correct! I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled. “You always look like you’re off in your own little world. But you still manage to do well. You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.” Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies. Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s. He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.
The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed. All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework. He helped clarify things for me thankfully. I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.
“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you? That’s his hat, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, I always see him wear it.” It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.
“Do you know if you can bring it to him today? If not, I can keep it here until next class.”
“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next. I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.” I don’t know why I said that. We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were. I’m also not on the baseball team. Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.
Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom. He was probably long gone anyways. After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat. I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used. I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on. Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again. I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it. It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s. It’s not like he had lice or anything. What’s the worst that could happen?
And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would. Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped. The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping. The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened. My watch skipped a tick. But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked. I had to admit, I looked really good in it. I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league. Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face. A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me. Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore. I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.
After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra. I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out. I must’ve lost track of time. As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason. I never used to make much of an impression on most people. I was quiet and had only a couple friends. Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.
“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?” the teacher remarked. Very funny. I always showed up on time. I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right. My body squeezed tight into the desk. I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler. Weird. Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.
The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative. I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering. I still felt a couple of their eyes on me. I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room. She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends. Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion. She was cute, but definitely out of my league. I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.
Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today. Something must be wrong. The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache. I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne. I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.
Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch. I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.
Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food. Wanna come with?
Normally, we always got lunch at the same time. But for some reason, I didn’t really want to? That’s weird for me. I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.
Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude
I didn’t text like that normally. Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name. They were two jocks. I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot. What did they want? I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind. Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.
“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym. Wanna come with?” the other jock asked me. Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.
Were they serious? Did these jocks actually think I was one of them? I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed. Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys. My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them. For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time. I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before. They were really chill.
I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends. I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me. Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks? It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.
I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.
Bryan: My bad. Thought you were someone else. He must’ve given me the wrong number.
Was this some kind of prank? He obviously knew my number. Of course he knows who I am. Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks. I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends. You know, my real friends. I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed. Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.
We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein. I swear I almost never eat this much. The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself. But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them? I had class soon. But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros. I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them. As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.
I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym. I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts. To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine. I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift. It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner. By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class. But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.
“Later, Moore.”
Must’ve been a slip of the tongue. There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron. At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him. Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself. He could always just get another one, right? I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.
In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear. Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that. I shrugged it off. They can stare all they want for all I care. I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen. If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with. But in such a short amount of time? With no prior lifting experience? That was impossible.
I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today. All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later? I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period. Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave. I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who? Aaron Moore.
“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?” he asked.
“Practice?”
“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy! You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude. Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”
“Yeah, you’re right, bro. My bad.” I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with. But as I looked at him, I realized something. He was wearing his hat! But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it? “I thought you lost your hat. How are you wearing it?”
“I was wearing my hat all day, dude. One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do. But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up. You’ll impress the ladies.” But I was gay. And I’ve only had this hat for a day. If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine? I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.
As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other. Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out. Was it because we were going to practice? I’ve never played baseball in my life. Nah, that can’t be right. I feel like I’ve swung a bat before… We went into the locker room to change. I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.
My reflection wasn’t there. Someone else’s was. Someone much stronger and much taller than me. That wasn’t me. It was Aaron Moore.
No, except it wasn’t an exact match. There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron. This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall. I walked closer. “Aaron” walked closer. I moved my hand to feel my face. So did “Aaron”. A dull, confused look appeared on his face. Had I really become him? But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing. Then who am I? Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier? I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.
Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name. That’s…Aaron’s? Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married. As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.
Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday. I knew my birthday, and it was in January. Don’t tell me…Are we…?
I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror. It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream. It was like I was his twin! Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters. At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed. Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis. I realized that this all started when I wore his hat. I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder. My bro…I mean Aaron.
“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro? Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me. I think it runs in the blood, you know. You like that, right?” He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head. I nodded. I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection. I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body. At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.
“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin. The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together. This is all you ever wanted, right?” He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him. Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong. But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.
“Yeah bro. This shit’s the life, dude.” I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that. The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro. I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood. As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…
“That’s right…Just let it happen… I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back? During senior year?”
“Fuck yeah, bro. I remember.” But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right? I know I have.
“You know you were the reason we won, right? One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game. I’ve never been more proud of you bro.” Aaron patted me on the back. I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it. That year, our baseball team was the best in the state. And I…led our team to a championship? As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real. But why was he reminding me of this now?
“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”
As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away. Turns out that I was the brother he never had. We were a pair. We complemented each other perfectly. I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school. I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro? That’s gay as shit. And weird. This was my own twin we were talking about. Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too. After all, no girl can resist either one of us.
“So the hat is working…” Aaron whispered under his breath.
“What hat?”
“Nothing, bro! I was just saying how good your hat looks on you. Come on, let’s go.” I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.
From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother. Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as. Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock. I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic. Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree. But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school. I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this. But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times. I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.
Two days later, I had biology again. I remembered I kinda struggled with this class. I sat behind my bro as usual. I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework. I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class. When I asked him, he wouldn’t say. It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me. We practically knew everything about each other after all. After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.
“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you. Is everything alright? Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”
“Never felt better, bro. I think I was just up too late partying the other day. And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.” I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.
“Good, good.” Mr. Martin smiled. “I won’t leave you too long. I know you two have your hands full with practice today. Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see. It suits you well, Aiden.” I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left. Mr. Martin was always cool. I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here. I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what? I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.
What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros. I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways. Probably nothing important. As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school. I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.
At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights. All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift. Must run in the blood. After school, I went to practice with Aaron. We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer. We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition. Man, this was the life. I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.
AlterEgo
The last thing I expected on my 20th birthday was to receive a gift from Cody, my roommate. We were never close, and there was no way in hell he actually knew much about me to know it was my birthday without me telling him. Him and I were basically complete opposites. While I was your typical nerd, smart, introverted, and so on, he was basically your typical jock in all the worst ways. He was boisterous, arrogant, and a total meathead. We mostly agreed to stay out of each others’ way, considering our irreconcilable differences, but that didn’t stop him from being a massive pain in the ass. His room was constantly in a state of disarray, with sweaty clothes scattered all over the place. As such, I often avoided being anywhere near his room if necessary since it smelled like a locker room. He often invited over his “bros” who were just as bad. Whether they were hogging the TV to watch whatever game was on, smuggling alcohol into our dorm to get wasted, or playing catch in the fucking living room, they were always a nuisance. And whenever I brought any of that up to him, he would always end up saying something like “It’s not that serious, dude. We were just having a good time.” Yeah, a good time at my expense. Whoever assigned the two of us to live together must’ve thought this was some twisted joke.
I woke up at 9 AM, still a little tired from last night. I hung out at one of my friends’ dorms to celebrate my birthday. I yawned, and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. I saw Cody was up as well, his legs spread across the couch, to the point that he was taking up two seats, watching something on the TV that was several volume levels too loud for me.
“Hey bro, today’s your birthday right?” Cody asked, as he tilted his head to face me.
“Uhh, yeah. How did you know?” I responded.
“Oh don’t worry about it, bro. Happy birthday!” I saw him get up and run to his disorganized room, likely to grab something for me. I could see a pair of worn gym shorts on the floor through the crack in the door. He pulled out an old Nike shoe box, since he likely had nothing better to put a gift in. “I’ve been saving this for you. I hope you like it!” Is this his way of trying to get on my good side?
I rolled my eyes since I doubt he got me anything I would enjoy. He probably just got me something that he’d enjoy, like some tight-fitting tank top or protein powder or something. Not that I work out or anything. The only gift I’d want from him is for him to stop being a douche. I opened the box and I was surprised about what I saw. It was a video game. Not any that I’d ever heard of. I looked at the box art and the words AlterEgo were written in a wacky, colorful font.
“Yeah, I knew you like video games, so I found this for you. I heard on the internet that it’s pretty nitch…nichy…what’s the word…”
“Niche?” I responded. I had to admit, him struggling to pronounce the word right was a little amusing. As amusing as being with a simpleton like him could be.
“That’s the word! I got it for myself, but I realized like half an hour in that it wasn’t my thing. I’m happy with what I have right now. I figured you’d probably get more out of it than me.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“No problem, dude. Anyways, I gotta hit the gym. I’m gonna be out all day so you have the PS5 all to yourself. Hope you enjoy it bro!”
I watch him leave, thankful to have some peace and quiet. As I ate breakfast, I read the back of the cover in order to figure out what this game was about.
“Become a new you! In this life simulation adventure, you can become any kind of person you want and live any way you choose. Control your fictional avatar, your AlterEgo, and level up your stats to become closer to your true self.”
The game seemed something like The Sims or Animal Crossing, but with some stat progression system. It was a game that I had never heard of, but it could be some hidden gem. The rest of the back was filled with screenshots from the game with the cartoony characters doing activities such as cooking, jogging, and riding a motorcycle. I figured I might as well try the game since I did get it for free. Even if it was from Cody, I wasn’t one to refuse someone’s generosity.
I put the game in the disk slot and booted it up. The title screen had that same logo and some bubbly background music. I pressed the start button and I was presented with a save selection screen. I noticed that Cody’s save was on there, which was odd because I was playing on my account. I knew I should’ve put a password on it. I wanted to make my own character, but part of me was curious about the character that he made. Knowing him, I can only guess. His game time was less than an hour, as he was only on Day 1, and he likely spent most of that time on the character creation screen.
I started his save and my character was sitting in his room. At this point, it was very bare, with only a bed and a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered around the room. I guess the character starts by moving into their new home? I went into the menu to find more information about the character. The character was named Cody obviously and his AlterEgo somewhat matched him too. I went into the stats screen and I was greeted by a tutorial.
“Here you can check your AlterEgo’s stats. You have already set your initial growth modifiers and assigned your base stats. If you need a refresher, whatever stats you chose your AlterEgo to excel at are highlighted in red and the ones you chose to trade off are highlighted in blue. This means that your AlterEgo will grow in the stats in red much faster and prioritize activities that increase those stats and avoid activities associated with increasing your stats in blue. As you play, your AlterEgo will naturally develop into one of hundreds of potential archetypes based on the activities that they excel at. Experiment and see who you become!”
I looked at the stat screen and saw a list of stats with a bar indicating percentage level. The stats included Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, Intelligence, Wisdom, Courage, Charisma, and Luck. Not too far off from DnD I guess. It seemed like he chose to have Strength and Constitution as his highest stats as their font was colored red and Intelligence and Wisdom as his weakest stats as they were colored in blue. Gee, why am I not surprised… Cody was anything but a genius. It seemed like he had 20 initial points to allocate wherever he chose with a default limit of 5. And I was equally not surprised to find that my meathead roommate chose to put 5 in Strength and Constitution again like a barbarian. It’s like all he cared about was his looks and perceived masculinity, even in game.
Strength (physical strength): 5
Constitution (physical build and stamina): 5
Dexterity (agility and flexibility): 2
Intelligence (knowledge): 0
Wisdom (intuition and discipline): 0
Courage (risk-taking and bravery): 3
Charisma (social skills): 3
Luck (good or bad fortune): 2
After looking through his stats, I decided enough was enough and I didn’t really want to go around pretending I was Cody the whole game. I quit out of his save and went back to the title screen. I was back on the save select screen when I became confused. There was still one save, except the name of the character wasn’t Cody…it was mine? The play time was set to 0 minutes. I don’t know how that happened, but if it saves me the trouble of building a character and reading more tutorials, I’m happy.
To my relief, the avatar representing Cody wasn’t there. Instead, a very generic, average character stood in its place in the same room. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was some placeholder account with everything set to the default. Whatever, I can probably change stuff about him later. I decided to move my AlterEgo outside and I was greeted by a map of a large city. I chose an area of the map to explore at random and controlled my new avatar. On the busy city street, there was a cafe, restaurant, and a gym. It was too early for the cafe and restaurant to open, so I guess my only option here is the gym. I’ve never stepped foot in a gym before, but this character doesn’t have to represent me as a whole. Plus, I’d like my character to be well-rounded unlike Cody’s who would probably spend the whole time grinding here.
I went into the gym and had to perform a set of quick-time events. First, I had to do some bench presses. Then some squats. Then finally, run on a treadmill. At the end of it, my AlterEgo did a cartoony celebration and flexed his arms. A pop-up showing that my Strength, Constitution, and Dexterity went up by 1, followed up by another one saying that my Strength and Constitution will double every time I do activities like go to the gym. So it looks like Cody’s modifiers carried over after all despite everything seeming to be the default. That should’ve been the first thing I checked. I didn’t want my character to be specced to be some lumbering brute. I suppose that if I wanted to get my character’s Intelligence and Wisdom, it’d probably be like playing on Hard mode. Honestly, I was open to the challenge.
I was disappointed to find out that it’d be harder than it seemed. When my character got home in the evening, I went into one of his boxes and I was presented with an option to read. I was presented with several options, ranging from comics to full-on novels. I chose the novel since I figured it would raise my Intelligence the best. I watched my AlterEgo try to read the book, but I saw a look of confusion on his face. Eventually, he grew frustrated and threw the book back into the empty box as if he were shooting through a basketball hoop. I expected my Intelligence to stay the same, but no, it actually dropped!
“Sometimes when your AlterEgo fails to complete an activity, their stats can decrease! These stats can even go into the negative. Make sure to keep your stats high because it can become very difficult to increase your stats if they fall below a certain point.”
I couldn’t believe that my character struggled to even read. This guy was nothing like me at all! I hoped that it would be easier to raise my AlterEgo’s Intelligence because I didn’t want him to be a moron. I watched my character fall asleep and I could see into his dream. Another tutorial popped up.
“Sometimes your character will have dreams! These dreams are mostly random, but will also depend on your character’s stats. Just like other activities, you have a chance to increase your stats.”
I watched my character fight in a zombie apocalypse, but the zombies didn’t even look remotely threatening. I succeeded in the activity and my Courage went up by 2 and my Luck and Strength went up by 1. My character wiped his head of sweat as the zombies turned to dust.
The next day, I learned that my AlterEgo can go to school. That was expected, considering my character’s age, only I didn’t realize how hard it would be for him. He was sitting in a desk trying to write down notes. Eventually, like an idiot, he slammed his thick head on his desk and started snoring. This was honestly getting embarrassing. My Intelligence and Wisdom dropped yet again, not by 1, but by 2. If I didn’t do something different, my AlterEgo would basically be a clone of Cody instead of myself. After class, instead of being given an option to go and do something, my AlterEgo is approached by a group of buff men.
Quarterback: Hey new guy, you’re looking pretty strong. Judging from your Strength and Constitution, I think you’d make a good fit for the football team. Your Dexterity and Courage also seem pretty good. Wanna join, bro?
You know who else played football? Cody. I had to keep being reminded of him even when he wasn’t even around. This was my character and I didn’t care about sports, so I clicked the no option. To my surprise, my AlterEgo nodded instead. It's like this game is going out of its way to spite me at this point. Two tutorials popped up.
“If your Wisdom is too low, your AlterEgo might act on their own desires rather than your command. This means that they can sometimes act on their own or select activities that they are more interested in rather than those they are not. Raise your Wisdom or else you will have less freedom when developing your AlterEgo.”
“You have decided to join a club or organization. This will grant you a passive growth to certain stats every week.”
I watched as my AlterEgo walked away with the group of jocks. A football uniform magically appeared over his normal clothes. For joining the football team, I was granted a point in Strength, Constitution, Courage, and Charisma every week, with the usual double for Strength and Constitution.
I kept playing the game, getting frustrated at my AlterEgo’s reluctance to even try to act smart or reasonable. He frequently avoided or skipped intellectual pursuits to focus on those that made him look or feel good. It honestly just felt random whether he wanted to obey me or not. By the end of Day 7, the first week my stats were looking like this.
Strength: 30
Constitution: 28
Dexterity: 10
Intelligence: -20
Wisdom: -15
Courage: 21
Charisma: 17
Luck: 16
My Intelligence and Wisdom seemed unfixable. My AlterEgo wouldn’t even bother to try to read or pay attention at school and he consistently started to make random choices that satisfied his needs as the week progressed. I grew incredibly frustrated at this, but out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was an end to this so I could go back and make my own character. Either way, this game was plagued with questionable design choices. It’s like the AlterEgo was already locked into a specific path. I hoped that I had accidentally skipped a tutorial or something and that I hadn’t softlocked myself out of raising certain stats. Unfortunately, my AlterEgo’s stats continued to grow and drop as I hit Day 30.
Strength: 75
Constitution: 69
Dexterity: 44
Intelligence: -66
Wisdom: -49
Courage: 54
Charisma: 37
Luck: 41
I received another tutorial message on Day 31.
“You look like you are on track to evolve into your archetype very soon! By this point, your AlterEgo’s stats will be locked in place. That will be the end of the main story, but there is still so much to enjoy afterwards!”
I figured I might as well see this through to the end. You know, see how much of an idiot my character can become. Despite my efforts, all my AlterEgo does now is work out, practice and go to games, and go to parties, outside of necessities. His Intelligence is so low that he rarely even goes to school anymore and that has caused his intelligence to plummet to the bottom. I played for even longer, eventually hitting Day 60. Turns out that this is the day I would discover my AlterEgo’s archetype.
“Congratulations on making it this far. I hope you are excited to find out your archetype, because I know I am! Remember that these changes are permanent, so there will no longer be ways to increase or decrease your stats.”
I watched my AlterEgo marched onto the stage and I was able to view my final stats and a rating of each of them. The descriptions seemed to be heavily based on my other stats, and trust me, they were very satirical, and in my case, very scathing.
Strength: 100
I’d give this an A+. I’m not even sure if you are human anymore. I’ve seen you lift things that no normal man could, not because you have to, but because you want to. You spend more time at the gym than you do at your own house and you might give The Hulk a run for his money.
Constitution: 100
You also get an A+. Your months of training at the gym have given you a perfect, chiseled body that looks like it could be made out of iron. You have a seemingly endless supply of testosterone and your stamina (in more ways than one, it seems) cannot be beaten.
Dexterity: 75
This gets a B. You are very athletic and quick on your feet despite your appearance. However, your large size means that you can be pretty clumsy and you’ve probably broken more things than you’d like to admit.
Intelligence: -100
I’ll just go along with your teachers and give you a big fat F. Are you even trying? I worry that there’s not a single thought going around in your thick skull. You care very little for anything intellectual or sophisticated, not that you even know what those words mean.
Wisdom: -90
Likewise, you also get another big fat F. Were you dropped on your head when you were a baby or did you take too many tackles to your cranium? You have incredibly poor judgment and you only make decisions that satisfy your brutish desires. In short, you often act before you think. Your lack of discipline is only matched by your lack of brain cells. As long as you’re having fun, should I really care what you do with your life?
Courage: 90
I’d give this an A, but not an A+. Because your brain moves too slow to process any risk, you often think before you act. You often find yourself in the most dangerous of situations and you often perform incredibly stupid stunts. When you’re on the field, you’re a risk taker, and at least it usually pays off. On the bright side, you always come out unscathed, so I can commend that.
Charisma: 70
I’d give this a B-. Being on the football team and being very attractive is going to place a lot of eyes on you, but they are all focused on your body because everything else you have to offer is very superficial. I wonder if you surround yourself with people who think and act the same as you do or if people keep you around to laugh at every stupid word that comes out of your mouth.
Luck: 80
Lastly, you get a B. Your luck genuinely amazes me sometimes. Despite everything, despite your lack of any intellectual thought or reasoning, you have survived long enough to make it this far in life. This alone proves that life favors some over others. If there is room for the concept of a higher power in your shrunken headspace, then they probably feel a sense of amusement at the state of you bumbling around through life with only your good looks and muscles salvaging you.
“What do you think? Are you happy with your results? Anyhow, it’s time to reveal your archetype. It’s who you are and who you will be from now on! Drumroll please… (As if it wasn’t obvious enough…) You, my friend, are…THE JOCK!”
The Jock
You are likely an athlete or bodybuilder and you likely care little for intellectual thought. You enjoy playing and watching sports and working out above anything else. You are hyper-masculine, aggressive, arrogant, and egotistical. However, you are also very muscular, tall, athletic, popular, and handsome. You feel a deep sense of camaraderie with anyone you consider your bro, which mostly includes other jocks like yourself. Your wardrobe mostly consists of tank tops, jerseys, varsity jackets, shorts, sweatpants, jockstraps, baseball caps, sneakers, and everything in between. Because of your high testosterone and your above average genitals, you are viewed as a desirable partner and often partake in sexual activities with members of the opposite sex, and sometimes even other men depending on the person and situation. Your most likely career path is as an athlete or coach, but as long as it doesn’t require too much deep thinking, you could probably find a job anywhere with your connections and attractiveness. Enjoy your new self!
I watched my AlterEgo vanish within a cloud of smoke and come out a cartoonish representation of your average stereotypical jock with blonde hair and a very lunkish, yet admittedly impressive build. He looked around, clearly disoriented, with a dull, confused look on his face before flexing with a cheesy, confident smirk on his face. The audience cheered and clapped at this ridiculous personification of a walking stereotype as if they were watching a magic show. Honestly, it was almost amusing how the description it gave for “me” couldn’t possibly be more wrong. It sounded like everything Cody was, not me. Although I guess I was playing with his settings, not by choice I will add, but I had little control over how my AlterEgo decided to live its life. I just wish I could get him off my mind for just one day. Either way, I found myself incredibly dissatisfied with my new AlterEgo, but I accidentally found out a way to make things even worse for me. I just wanted to scroll through the remaining text to get to the credits, since I have been playing for 8 hours by now, when I saw a selection that would seal my fate.
“Are you satisfied with your result? Now that you’ve discovered who you truly are, are you ready to be The Jock in the real world? WARNING: If you select Yes, your save will be deleted as a result. These changes are permanent. If you click No, you can continue playing after the credits.”
I accidentally clicked Yes as I was mashing through the text. What the hell was I thinking?! I had no idea that this would change the entire trajectory of my life. At first I felt nothing, as the screen faded to black. Then, I saw the credits start to roll, playing a remix of the joyful title screen music, and that’s when I started to feel all warm inside and I felt a painful shock come from my controller.
I felt a sudden wave of pain rush through my body as my bones started to crack and shift in my body and my muscles began to inflate like balloons. I looked at the credits and noticed that the new jock AlterEgo was doing the things he normally enjoyed doing in the background. But I couldn’t really concentrate on it as I found myself focusing down below. My legs stretched and stretched until I was around 6’4. My feet grew to a size 15 and my thick glutes and ass made me sink deeper into the couch from their weight. The fat in my stomach felt like it was melting as it left behind nothing more than a layer of sweat and a firm six pack of abs. My upper chest formed into a round set of bouncy pecs. Likewise, my biceps and triceps were almost the size of my head now and my soft hands became rough and covered in calluses from intense lifting. I felt my clothes cling tightly to my body as if they were two sizes too small, and they’d easily rip if my body grew any more. My shirt fit more like a crop top on me and my clothes were damp from pit and ass sweat.
I felt my long hair recede into my head until it formed into a shorter cut that was much easier to maintain. As it did that, my chestnut-colored locks lightened into a golden blonde. My soft, round eyes became more sharp and masculine and I could feel them turn from a chocolate brown into an icy shade of blue. My youthful face lost most of its baby fat and buried beneath it was nothing more than the chiseled edges of my jawline. The lower half of my face, which used to be soft and hairless, was now covered in a prickly lawn of stubble. Even my pasty skin turned a shade tanner from the years I spent in the sun throwing balls around. I noticed that my entire body started to sweat profusely to the point that I could smell my own musk and I became absorbed by my new-found masculine scent. I could smell the testosterone that was pumping through my veins like a drug. I felt powerful, dominant, virile, and dare I say it, good… Lastly, I found my lips contort into an obnoxious, conceited smirk. Was I…enjoying this? Judging from the growing feeling in my groin, I was led to believe that I was. And it kept growing and growing and growing…
All the while, the credits continued to play and the happy-go-lucky music felt like it was mocking my painful situation. Despite the strange pleasure I felt, it was only a distraction as my body still writhed in pain through the whole process while I changed entirely into a real life manifestation of my AlterEgo. What the hell is this game? I noticed that the jock avatar stared directly towards the screen, as if he was breaking the fourth wall, and started to walk closer and closer before vanishing from his virtual prison for good. The lively credits started to simmer down, giving the screen a more empty and disquieting feeling. That was the last thing I noticed before I felt a sharp headache ring through my head. I am usually fine playing games for a long period of time so why…Why did my roommate buy me this game anyways, bro? If he was gonna buy me any game, he should’ve gotten me the new CoD or Madden game, not this weird shit. I had to admit, it was kinda addicting. I liked being able to work out or play sports even when I’m at home. Wait, what was that? I felt like I just heard another voice in my head, both sounding similar yet different to my own. Eventually he called out directly to me.
“Hey bro, it’s me. Your AlterEgo. You know, the real you. It’s been fun, dude. Now I get to enter the real world, isn’t that sick? So here’s what’s gonna happen, dude. I am currently inside your mind and I’m making the final changes to turn you into the person you were always meant to be. That’s right dude, we are becoming one singular person in both body and mind. Don’t try to struggle or fight back. You know I’m stronger than you. There’s no going back. So, are you ready to become one with your true self?
No…I thought to myself. I wasn’t a jock. I was never a jock. I’m nothing like my AlterEgo. This is a mistake. This was Cody’s AlterEgo, not mine!
“Chill out, bro. I know you read the warning and you clicked Yes, so you obviously knew the risk. Why did you keep playing if you knew you’d become a jock regardless of the decisions you made? Because you are one deep down. Or maybe you secretly wanted to be one. Maybe you wanted to see what life was like on the other side. Maybe this Cody guy wanted you to try out this save, you know, to see what would happen... Whatever reasoning, it really doesn’t matter dude. I know you can feel me taking over your mind. You’re finding it harder to think. Soon you’ll be The Jock, me. I just wish you realized a little sooner who you really were…”
I felt my brain starting to shut off and my vision starting to become blurry as my AlterEgo took it over. I don’t even know how any of this is possible, even by today’s standards. An AI buried deep within the game was taking over my body and mind entirely, reshaping me in his image. But I continued to resist, to cling onto whatever parts of my personality I could. However, as I felt my mind sink deeper and deeper into this mental void, I felt myself slowly becoming more and more like The Jock. The archetype that was decided on, not by me, but for me. Until that’s all I was.
Everything turned black for a few seconds. I slowly regained consciousness as my brain rebooted itself. Wait…what’s a reboot? I sat and watched the credits with a dim look on my face as it finally ended. I was booted back to the title screen and saw that my save was indeed deleted. This was proof that my AlterEgo was now a part of me and that he was finally whole. I pulled out my phone wanting to learn more about this game, because, dude, it was kinda fucking weird. By scrolling, I couldn’t find much, but I did discover a post from not too long ago on some ancient forum site that was probably made in the early 2000s.
“Is The Game AlterEgo Real?”
“I’ve heard rumors about this game called AlterEgo, but I have very little information on it. It’s said to be incredibly dangerous and could lead to permanent bodily and mental changes. Throughout all of my research, I could not find any copy of the game for sale, nor any definitive proof that it’s real or any information on the company that developed it. If you have any information on this game, please let me know.”
I skimmed through the forum page, not that interested in reading what everyone had to say. Who has time for that anyways? But I did find one reply that caught my eye.
“I can confirm with certainty that AlterEgo does exist. My friend received it as a gift for Christmas and he wouldn’t stop talking about it to me. It’s like he was addicted. A week later, when I saw him next, I could barely even recognize him. His body had grown and changed greatly and he didn’t act like his usual self. I even feel like his memories might be a little distorted. I tried checking his house to find the game in order to figure out what it was all about, but I don’t think he has it anymore. He probably sold it or gave it away since he said he finished it. No matter what, he won’t tell me. If there are any other copies of the game left, please let me know.”
Woah, so this game is fucking weird, dude. Wasn’t just me. I just played it right? But I don’t feel any different. You know, I bet these nerds would pay a lot for a chance to find out about this game. Maybe they might come out as different people. I’ll put it up on eBay for a high price. One of those dweebs just has to take the bait. I wouldn’t mind a little cash though. I’d feel bad for selling Cody’s gift, but just imagine what I could get with that much money.
“Hey bro, you still in here dude?” I heard a familiar voice shout as they opened the door.
“Yo Cody, there you are. What’s up dude?” I was happy to see him. Cody was my roommate and my best friend. We were practically inseparable. When he made eye contact with me, his eyes widened. I couldn’t really blame him for being impressed with my awesome body.
“You beat that game I gave you already?” He seemed surprised, yet almost impressed.
“Yeah, it’s not usually my type, but I enjoyed it dude.”
“Do you…feel any different, bro?” Cody sounded kinda hesitant there. Had he read about the rumors too? I don’t see why he’d have to worry. None of those rumors are true anyways.
“Nah, same as I’ve always been.”
“Alright, good. I was just making sure you were down to get some food. You should be out partying and celebrating your birthday, not playing some nerdy video game. And trust me, I know all the good spots.”
“You’re right bro. I haven’t gotten enough exercise in today. Let’s go.”
“Wait, before you go, your clothes are so sweaty dude. You should change.”
“Oh shit, good idea.”
“Y-you can just wear one of my clothes. They’d probably fit you better.” He was right. As I soon realized, someone shrunk all my clothes as part of a prank.
Me and Cody went to a sports bar to watch the game. If I remember correctly, this was our favorite spot to get food, except you know, anywhere that lets me hit my macros. Since it was my birthday, he even paid for the whole meal. I don’t remember how long I’ve known him, but couldn’t ask for a better bro. On the way home, Cody grabbed a six pack of beer from the frat house and brought it to our dorm to drink the night away. I wasn’t old enough to drink, but it’s not like I never had alcohol before. And besides, today was basically my cheat day.
We got wasted while we watched TV, and we did some things that I probably wouldn’t admit to anyone but him. I couldn’t help it though. I hadn’t gotten laid all weekend and it was my birthday. Quite frankly, I deserved it. Thankfully Cody took one for the team. He said it wasn’t weird because we’ve definitely done it before and that it was our secret. I had to give him credit. His tight hole is better than most girls’. I didn’t know he was a bottom until tonight. I also didn’t remember having a dick this big, but you don’t see me complaining. After all was said and done, I passed out drunk next to him in his bed, our bodies drenched in sweat and each other’s fluids, as I enjoyed the bromance I have with my best bro. This was the best birthday ever.
The next day, I got up extra early to go for a run despite my hangover. Afterwards I went to school, but like usual, I struggled to pay attention. It was like my mind was in a constant fog. My grades are slipping and this football scholarship is the only thing keeping me from dropping out entirely. After classes, I joined Cody and the others at practice. Throughout the day, I kept getting this feeling of uh…dayjah voo? That word that means that you feel like you’ve done something before. I wasn’t exactly sure where it was coming from. I shrugged it off. I was just a jock and I didn’t need to worry about stuff like that.
When I got home, I got an offer for the game Cody gave me. You know, AlterEgo. Some nerd seriously offered $1000 for it. I didn’t actually know it was that rare. I hope he enjoys it more than I did. I’ll sure enjoy the 1000 dollars. I bet he’ll love passing it around to all his other geeky friends. I wonder what their AlterEgos might look like…
Becoming Papi
An unnamed narrator wins a competition to get "up close and personal" with his favourite hockey player, Auston Matthews. Turns out he may be getting closer and more personal than he anticipated!
This is a story I've posted elsewhere. It is my story, copyright me.
"Get Up-close and Personal with Auston Matthews!” The competition had said. I had entered on a whim, never expecting to win. I was very surprised to receive the winning notice in my inbox a few days later. For a week, I had been buzzing. I was going to meet my favourite hockey player! Number 34 of the Toronto Maple Leafs: Auston Matthews.
And now I was here! Sitting in a random training room at the Ford Performance Centre in Etobicoke, Ontario, just outside of Toronto. The room was cool and full of exercise equipment. Massive banners hung from the ceiling and the walls were covered in different murals of player faces and motivational phrases. I fiddled with my shirt as I waited, thinking about how Auston was likely in the next room also waiting for me. I wondered if he was as nervous as I was or if he was calm and cool, but before I could put much into the thought, the door opened. A woman dressed in black poked her head through the gap.
“You can come in now,” she said.
I smiled and and followed her through the door. The room on the other side was a long room, with wooden dressing stalls and benches against the walls. Hockey equipment hung at each stall; pants, shoulder pads, blue and white practise jerseys and the room had a gentle odour of sweat. A massive Maple Leaf logo covered much of the floor, and sitting on one of the wooden benches was Auston Matthews. He was wearing a cream coloured hoodie, shorts and a baseball cap. The way he sat on the bench pushed his thighs, making them seem thicker and bigger. His hair was slicked back behind his ears while his dark moustache was sitting darkly on his upper lip.
“Auston,” I murmured, reaching towards him with my hand. “It’s so, so incredible to meet you!”
“Hey,” he said in a relaxed drawl and standing up to meet me. He was taller than me. His smile instantly relaxed me. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m such a big fan. You’re, like, my favourite player.” I was gushing, but I didn’t care.
He was killing me with that smile. I realized I was still gripping his hand.
“Oh sorry!” I said, but his hand tightened and firmed around mine. I felt a warm tingling around my palm for a moment before he let go and grinned at me.
“You’re going to be perfect,” he said. “What happens next is going to be weird… Just relax and let it happen.”
He let go of my hand and I felt my face contort into a puzzled expression. But before I was able to voice a question, I was met with an extreme pricking sensation travelling up my arm. It started in the hand Auston had just shook and gradually travelled and radiated across my body. It felt like a warm, relaxing wave that cascaded through my blood and over my skin.
“You should probably take off your clothes for this,” Auston said.
I nodded and did what I was told, tossing everything in a corner. The waves were coursing faster through my body now, making my heart thump in my chest. I spied a mirror on the wall and walked over to it, ignoring the fact that I was naked. The tingling sensation was across my entire body now, causing me to become excited and aroused. My penis began to lift and grow harder, and so it only felt right to touch it. I stood naked in the Maple Leafs’ dressing at their practice facility, feeling dazed and tingly, stroking my cock for extra sensation.
The tingling stopped, but the warmth remained and a sudden jolt of energy attacked my shoulders. My shoulders clicked and popped and widened out, with new muscle mass stretching overtop. At the same time, my deltoids and pectoral muscles ballooned, becoming thicker and much more pronounced with thick layers of muscle. I felt strength and power push down into my core. Where once there had been a ring of fat, there were now strong abdominal muscles. My stomach tightened and fortified, needing more room to house the brawn I was gaining, and I became stocky and heavy-set in muscle. Dark lines sketched their way across my right side and arm: new tattoos inked their way onto my bulked mass. An intricate sleeve tattoo wove across my right arm, painting dark lines across my lightly browning skin. I stroked my hand across my chest, feeling the raw strength and newly sprouted chest hair underneath my fingertips. My back cracked and stretched as I jumped up several inches in height.
The skin on my penis darkened and the shaft grew in girth and length into a monster cock. Pre-cum began to drip out of the tip. I was enjoying the changes.
In the mirror I saw a wide-chested, bulked out body attached to two stick-like legs. To say it looked like I skipped leg day would be an understatement. Almost automatically, the changes continued in my lower half. My butt ballooned and padded out, looking like two globes attached to my waist, the product of millions of squats. My thighs thickened and increased significantly, looking more like massive trunks than legs now. Below that, my calves became cut and toned, shedding any excess fat and leaving behind only raw muscle. I stood on two strong centres of explosive power. The skin browned slightly, matched the hue of the my torso.
I looked in the mirror at my new body. Instinctively, I knew it was Auston Matthews’ body. Everything from the neck down was unfamiliar, different and new, but deep down I knew it was right. In fact, it looked odd seeing my thin head attached to such a muscular body. The changes were not finished yet. I turned and saw the other Auston (the real Auston) with his shorts around his ankles, stroking his penis vigorously; it appeared he was enjoying my changes as much as I was.
Turning back to the mirror, I saw my skull and expanding, creaking and cracking as it went. My chin pushed forward, squaring off the back of my jaw as well. My eyes became more inset, slightly narrower and darker and my nose more pointed and wide at the nostrils. My hair lengthened down towards my neck, and my forehead broadened as my hairline migrated to the very top of my head. My ears flattened a little against my head and became longer. The wild and bushy eyebrows I sported before thinned, becoming tapered lines above my dark eyes. My teeth whitened and straightened. And above my thickening lips, a dark wisp of hair poked out through my skin and thickened into a Latino-style moustache. It swept across my entire upper lip into a neat half triangle that stretched under my nose. More patches of scruff and facial hair dotted across my cheeks and neck. Auston Matthews was staring at me from the mirror.
“That was sick, bro!” The other Auston Matthews was behind me, retying the drawstring on his shorts. He was wearing a face mask now, and a dark blue coloured hoodie and cap. His eyes looked lighter than before, almost like he had changed his own appearance as well. He stepped over, offering me his hand to high-five.
I felt my face smile that trademark Auston Matthews smile. “Thanks,” I replied, my voice now lower and echoing the same laid-back drawl, and returned his high-five.
“You probably have a million questions. Like ‘what happened’, ‘what did you do?’, right?”
“Something like that!” I laughed.
“So, yeah, basically… I want some time off. I’m going to disappear for a while… Get off the grid and relax. So while I’m gone, I want you to cover for me. This is your prize for winning that competition!”
“So I’m you?” I said, not fully understanding.
“Not yet. You will be, just as soon as I’ve said the code word. After that, you will be Auston Matthews and I’ll just be some guy.”
“Oh,” I said. “I- I’m pretty shit at hockey. Like, I can skate but I can’t shoot for shit. I can’t even lift the puck. I don’t know how this is gonna work.”
“Don’t worry about that. As soon as I say the code word, the transformation will finish and you’ll have all of my skills and memories, my winning personality… everything! You’ll be a complete copy of me.”
“Really? That’s fucking awesome! But what about the me from before? People are going to wonder where I am.”
“I’ll take care of that. Don’t worry. Let’s just say, that guy from before? He’s living on the other side of the planet. I’ll be back in a year, maybe more if you want, and I’ll change you back. All right?”
A life of possibilities flashed through my mind. I had never thought of playing in the NHL, even as a fantasy, and now it was about to become my reality.
“Oh! I forgot one thing,” Auston said as he lifted his arms behind his neck to two silver chains that were hooked there. “You’ll need these,” he said, and he carefully slipped them around my neck.”
I looked into the mirror, staring back at my naked body, taking in my massive hockey butt and sleeve tattoo. The silver chains caught the light, and a silver cross stuck against my massive pectorals. It felt complete now. I ran my hands over my shoulders, chest, stomach and butt, grinning at myself. I’m going to be Auston Matthews! I thought. No, I am Auston Matthews!
“All right bud, this is it. Remember, from this moment, you are going to be Auston Matthews. It’s going to feel awesome and amazing. Enjoy it.” The other Auston wrapped his arm around my beefy neck. “Don’t forget, you’ve got practice after this, ay Papi?”
Papi? A calm fog entered my brain. The world melted away from me and I felt the final changes take hold.
My name is Auston Matthews. I was born in California and grew up in Scottsdale, Arizona. I am part Mexican. I am a professional hockey player. I play for the Toronto Maple Leafs.
My name is Auston Matthews. I was born in California and grew up in Scottsdale, Arizona. I am part Mexican. I am a professional hockey player. I play for the Toronto Maple Leafs…
My name is Auston Matthews.
My brain filled with years of hockey practice, workouts, flashes of Mexican heritage, memories of playing for USA National Team, playing with the ZSC Lions in Zürich and of playing with the Toronto Maple Leafs. I remembered the awards I had won, the All Star games I had played in, the teammates I had played with. My brain relaxed and mellowed, as new personality traits took over. The foreign-feeling muscles I had just grown became familiar and normal; I immediately knew how to use the power in my legs and arms. Some Spanish words entered my brain and I felt my identity switch to part Mexican. The fog lifted from my brain, and the room re-materialised around me.
What am I doing here, staring at myself in the mirror! I need to get dressed for practice!
I immediately strode over to my dressing stall — the one marked MATTHEWS 34 — and slipped on my compression gear and skate socks. I grabbed my jock and pulled it up to my waist, adjusting my crotch and penis to sit within the cup. Sitting, I reached for my shin pads, fixed him to my legs, and strapped the Velcro around my calves. I pulled a pair of blue and white striped hockey socks overtop of my shin pads, and hooked them securely at my waist.
I was on autopilot at this point; everything felt natural and normal.
I slid into a pair of blue hockey pants and tightened them around my waist. I saw that my skates were a custom pair of CCMs, with a blue and white pattern around the ankle with my nickname Papi and number 34 next to it. I stomped my foot inside the boot and tied my skates on tight. Quickly, I took a roll of hockey tape and wrapped one, two, three strips tightly around my shins. Next I grabbed my shoulder pads and elbow pads and strapped them around my massive arms and chest. I pulled a blue practise jersey over my pads, the number 34 emblemed on the back. Instinctively, I ran my hand through my hair and slicked it back, making it easier for me to don my helmet. I clipped the straps and checked it was on tightly.
I reached for my gloves, putting them on felt familiar and welcoming. I nimbly ambled over, walking in skates, towards the rink exit, grabbing two of my PAPI labelled sticks from the rack. They were already taped and waxed and ready for some quick wristers on the ice. With my equipment on and my sticks in hand, I walked towards the ice.
Before stepping on the rink, I noticed a figure in the stands; an anonymous figure in a cream-coloured hoodie. I offered a loose salute from my temple and took my first stride. I let my powerful leg muscles work the way they had been conditioned to as I made confident movements across the pad. Spying a puck, I pivoted and strode towards it, catching it with my stick and pulling it towards me. I skated towards the empty net and in an instant, snapped it into the back of the goal. The whole movement had taken less than a second. I grinned and looked back to the now empty spot where the figure had stood.
“My name is Auston Matthews, and I play for the Toronto Maple Leafs,” I thought to myself and ripped off another shot on goal.
Hey! Huge fan from FA! I'm so glad you're back! I always wanted to see how I would look like in any kind of uniform. Would you be so kind to grant that wish?
snap
Welcome, welcome, welcome. Yes, you're here. No, you're not dreaming. Yes, you can get naked. In fact I encourage you to be naked.
You want a uniform, huh? I love uniforms.
Let's get a good look at you... You're on the short side. I can fix that. Feel your body aching and stretching and cracking, as you grow up to over 6 foot. You're like 6 foot, 3 inches now. Tall. Nothing wrong with short guys, but tall guys can get it too.
Your top half is going to be bigger than your top half. Sorry, my guy, you like the gym but work is going to get in the way of going consistently. So, I think you'll have big, broad shoulders, beefy arms and some meaty legs. ... Fine, I'll give you a chest and abs to match. Feel the burn, the prickling skin as it matches to fit in your expanding muscles. Feel your blood rushing through your veins, pumping through your new muscles.
Man, you look better than I expected.
Face time! This is my favourite part. I'm going to crack your skull and face wider — big, pinch-able cheeks. With some great beard growth. Dark eyes, dark hair - it's the perfect combination. You're cute, with a big body to go along with it. Dark hair. Slicked back, dark hair! Oh, you're vaguely Italian? From New Jersey. You love your Italian roots.
Okay, take a look at yourself. Looking good! All that's missing is the uniform you asked for. Put these black dress pants on, and these black sneakers. I have a black t-shirt too — careful not to spoil your hair! You spent ages getting it perfect. And the pièce de résistance, your new Starbucks apron. Slip it on bro. You look great! You look disappointed... Why are you bummed out? It's not the uniform you wanted? Oh, I can change that too. I'll finish off with those mental changes.
You're in your twenties, working at Starbucks to save for college. You get to the gym every now and then, but you spend a lot of time slinging coffee. You played football in high school - those were the days. In your spare time you like the clubs down on the Shore, fist bumping until the wee hours.
One last touch, you have to have that one perfect thing... Give me a smile; I'll just tweak your teeth and lips and perfect. Okay now, back to work!
hey man life’s stressful. do you think you could change me? take away some of that stress and make me dumber and buffer
snap
Welcome to my changing room. No need to thank me. You have been selected! You're going to love what I have in store for you. I heard the poor baby has some stress in his life. Oh dear, what a poor baby. Let me make it better for you. I'll change your life so your only stress is not having enough hours in the day to pump in the gym.
Oh you like that idea, huh? I can tell — your dick is already hard. Let's start there... I'll make it a little bigger. Oh, your balls need to be much lower than that, and they need to be fucking heavy man. Give 'em a squeeze. Feels good, right?
Now where to go from here? How about down? Your butt is awful flat... I'll fix it. Feel it grow and inflate. Feel it firm up and shift out. Feel it squeeze and tighten. Damn, that's a great ass.
Your thighs and legs. They're bigger. Those muscles might be sore for a bit — you just finished a big workout!
You want a 6 pack? 8 pack? Must be nice to watch all that fat and chub melt away... to be replaced by chiselled abs and an adonis belt you could hang a spoon off of. Go ahead and flex that. I'm gonna widen your shoulders a ton. You're gonna have trouble fitting through doorways son! You'll need thick arms, bulging veins. You are a fucking muscle beast bro!
I'll add some muscle to your chest and pecs. Feel that burning and stretching. Your nipples are relocating to the tip of your pec. Perfectly little brown circles. And just a wee bit sensitive. Especially if I rub my finger around like this.
You like that. I saw your dick twitch. You love nipple play now. Especially when guys, ahem - you're gay too, when guys lick around it with their tongues.
Time for your face. Boyish looks. You have the bod, but your face is clean and smooth. And this is going to be the fun part for me — the mental changes! You're fucking dumb as all shit bro! Ch'yeah bro, don't worry about using that head of yours. Just keep pumping that muscle up and taking selfies in the mirror. With a face and a body like yours, who needs to think?
I’m hoping you can work your magic on me a bit. Any chance you could turn me into a massive muscle-bound Himbo? I’ve always wanted to push the limits of how muscular the human body can get, but have been struggling to get big enough myself to test those limits.
snap
So I hear you want to be a muscle himbo. I really want this for you. You deserve it. I’ve got to make you bigger. You’re going to be huge. Get ready! Yes, take off your clothes - I’m going to make a new you so it’s better if we can see all of it.
Remember, bigger is better. So that’s why I’m going to shrink you down to about 5 foot 10. I know, I know - I did say bigger … Trust me on this. You’re a shorter guy now! Please don’t be sad, I’m gonna bulk you up hard - you’ll see. It all starts with your chest… a slight prickling under the skin. Like your muscle is pulsating. The it spreads down your arms, to your back and stomach. The pulsing is growing in intensity now. Your insides are heating up and your muscles and skin a beginning to stretch and expand. That feeling is wrapping around your thighs and quads, heading down to your legs and feet. It’s getting stronger. It feel like your skin is burning - waves of warmth and intense muscle pain are going through your whole body, faster and faster and faster.
Open your eyes! Look down! You’re getting bigger! Every muscle is stretching and growing. You’re feeling a burn on every part of your body. Watch your pecs push out to two gigantic globes. Feel the instense strain on your oblique muscles near your perfectly chiselled abs. They’re stretching out! You may be shorter, but you’re getting wider too. Try and put your arms down by your sides… You can’t do it bro, you’re too fucking big!!
Feel the last little bit of you grow now. You’ll have a cute face. Smaller nose. Shaggy, brown hair. Thick lips. And himbo energy! You’re all about yourself and the gym. You fuck anything that moves, but you’re an idiot. Try to think of a word with 3 syllables - you can’t do it. You don’t even know what a syllable is.
Here are some gym shorts and a baseball cap. Throw them on! No, no, no — put the cap on backwards. That's the kind of guy you are now! Do a pose for me. Perfect. It’s time to hit the gym! I love the new you.
Argh, I hate these muscle hunks that you’re turning everyone into. My neighbourhood is now full of them, it’s like a curse!
Watch out, one day I’ll find a way to revert everyone’s changes… just have to do it before you get to everyone.
snap
Welcome to my Changing Room. What’s wrong? You look angry. Sorry, that door is locked. … So is that one. Yeah, you’re pretty much trapped here. Let’s get you strapped in. There we go, you’re secured in the chair now. The straps around your wrists and ankles aren’t too tight are they? They’ll adjust, so don’t worry.
Dude! Stop thrashing your head around like that. Calm down. You’re going to leave here soon and be so happy. I promise. Oh no… Why are you crying? Begging won’t fix anything. It’s not my fault I caught wind of you trying to undo my plans. That’s on you for spilling the beans. I can’t have people working against me, and now I need to make an example out of you.
Where to start, where to start. How about your chest? I'm going to use you to send a message, so I'm going bigger. But first ... taller. How's the weather up there? You're approaching 7 feet! Wider jaw, square-r head, big flat forehead, salt and pepper scruff on your face and chin. No mental changes yet, I want you to see how big you're going to get before I make you a dumb muscle jock.
Try to enjoy your shoulders cracking and stretching. They're so wide. You have a huge wingspan. Let's make your arms and chest bigger. Hm, not big enough. Feel the muscles pulsating and heating up. Still not big enough! More, more, more. It looks like you have balloons under your skin. Look at those veins! You're a heavy lifter. Just look at yourself!
Oh stop crying. I'll wipe your tears away — yum, delicious. You love this. I can tell from your dick. Let's make it a little smaller, but thicker and wider. Chicks will love that.
Your legs are going to be massive too. Feel your body rise up in the seat as I pump up your ass. Your thighs are stretching to the limit! There's absolutely no thigh gap now. Your legs skin are basically always touching because of how big your mass is.
Time to release the restraints. Go ahead, have a feel of your body, bro. It's meaty, right? What's that? You like it? You want me to finish the job? I thought you'd never ask!
The world is slowing down. You're a simple kind of guy — wake up, pump up, eat up. The gym is your home, and your life is just about cutting, shredding and packing on the muscle.
You're my warning to the rest of the world; if you think you can defy my plans, then you have another thing coming. I can do anything, don't forget. Now get out of my sight.
snap
I had a friend who disappeared the other day. He said he had a plan to totally undermind and destroy you. But I can’t find him anywhere now! Did you have something to do with that? I hope you didn’t turn him in to a tall, dumb, hung meathead. He would have hated that!
snap
Welcome, welcome. Sorry for the delay. I know, I've been absent for a while but I wasn't really gone. You see, I've been watching all of you for the past few months, biding my time, gathering and waiting for the right moment to pounce.
So relax, you're dumber now anyway. Chill, my dude. We'll pump up your testosterone in a minute, but for now just relish in the clarity. Who needs big thoughts anyway?
Because you were on to me, and quick to my schemes, I'm going to make an example out of you. You shall be my magnum opus. Shall we begin?
Let's get you out of those clothes first. In your new life, you will barely need them.
Your feet should be much bigger. Feel them crack and stretch. You've got fucking huge feet, bro.
While we're on the subject of huge... Everything about you is huge. Your legs are thickening, growing bigger and bigger. Your ass is expanding and your shoulders are so wide. You'll be going sideways through doors from now on!
Arms? Bigger arms for sure. 16- no 17 inch biceps. Go ahead and flex 'em. What do you think?
I’m gonna angle your jaw a bit, make you classically handsome to go with your brutish bull of a body. You'll dress up nice, but your body is made for showing off. Some stubble on your face is going to make your face perfect.
Something is missing. Your muscles are excellent, if I do say so myself, but they need a pop. What about some tattoos? The last guy I did had tattoos as well, but I want to go all out for you. How about we cover you in them! From head to toe, literally. Every inch of your muscled adonis is a canvas now. You'll have some cool designs, religious stuff, words and shit. Girls will love it, and so will the guys. Ah, it doesn't hurt does it? Take a look at your body, bro. See all the ink darkening on your skin? What do you think?
Okay, stand up for me. Steady on your feet! I'll correct your mind in a second. Oh shit! I forgot your dick. A man like you needs a thick penis to match. Go ahead and stroke it while it grows. See, it wasn't so bad! And to think, you were worried about your buddy before all of this. I assure you, he was just as happy as you are right now.
Okay, testosterone. You're dumb, but you make up for it with your body, of course. Lifting is your life now.
Let's get a full look at you. Yep, my best work yet! Now go get out of my sight, you fucking meathead.
Been thinking of writing my own stories! Do you ever worry that you'll be sucked in and transformed into one of the guys that you're writing about?
I wouldn't say I worry about it... More like, I wish it would happen! All of my stories are kind of tailored to the things I like. I'd give anything for any one of my stories to happen to me...!
What about you? Are you still writing that story about a jacked-up muscle party animal? Because guess what...! You stop typing as your fingers and hands get thicker. Dark lines fade in over your knuckles, forming intricate tattoos. A massive watch appears on your thick wrist. The changes carry on up your arms and shoulders. Your shoulders broaden and widen out, your shirt disappearing in front of your eyes.
Whatever thoughts you had before have been emptied out of your head. You're a fucking party frat bro now, with a massive chest that you've just got to show off at every opportunity. Grab a drink, and go scope out the chicks bro!
Hey man. I’m trying to get big, but it’s slow and I wouldn’t mind if you used your powers to help. I’m 170 lbs rn, but I wanna be a muscle stud. Would also love to be able to turn other guys to muscle boys for company too
snap
Welcome, welcome. Let's have a look at you. You're scrawny man. I can make you bigger, much bigger.
Feel your pecs and chest and shoulders push out. Go ahead and adjust your posture. Your veins are popping, your stomach is tightening, your arms are bulging. Your pecs are still growing bro, they're getting rounder and bigger and YEW! Take a look at yourself now. Is that big enough for you?
Hi, I've always wanted to grow a full beard and be like the other men , so hunky and muscled, but I Can't, could you help me sir?
snap
You just want a beard, bro? Really? I can give you anything and you're sure you just want a beard? Reach for the stars man! Mind if I add a little more?
Feel your face itching? That's your beard coming through. Go ahead and touch it. Look at your hands...! They're throbbing and growing. You're taller. Don't worry, your back will settle in a second. Lemme pad out your ass and thighs. You're gonna need these muscles for what I have in mind. I can't leave you lookin' like a beanpole so I'm going to fill out your chest and shoulders now. What do you think. Go and flex for me. You look huge. You like your arms?
Okay, now this part is for me. Slip into these pants for me. They're gonna make your ass look really nice. Put these boots on too. Go ahead and tie the laces up nice and tight. But you're really gonna like this shirt. Sheriff? You're a cop now bro! Yeah, I thought you might like that. Go and button it up and tuck it into your pants. That shirt makes your arms look thick, right? Once you put this cap on, you can forget everything you knew before. Give us a smile. Looking great.
Hi, can you make me please a twunk with a aura? That even straight guys want to fuck me...
snap
Remind me again what a twunk is? A muscular twink? Okay, I can work with that. Let's get started.
First of all, shorter. You have to be shorter. With a big mess of dark hair, an angular jaw and a young face. You need a stud in those ears too. Just the way Daddy likes it.
We'll plump your muscles up. Not too big though! How about some popping veins? Look at your arms bro, you like that?
Okay, lift up your shirt and do something sexy with it. Yeah! Just like that. Perfect.
And now why don't you try a pose or something. Yeah you can put it in your mouth, why not. Great, and flex!
Go on, get out of here bro. You have some weights to lift.
I always wanted to feel what it’s like to be a hockey player. Seeing them in their uniforms.. turns me on.
snap
Hockey players are my speciality.
The first think you need is a big ass. It's okay, you can put your hands down there. You look shocked. It's not even close to being done. Bigger and bigger and bigger! There we go. A dump truck like that needs legs to match though, so let's get those thickened up.
What do you think, bud? You want to keep going?
You’ll need some beefy arms for all that hockey stick handling you’re about to do. You’ll have some really silky mitts!
You look the part, now to put the gear on.
Start with this, your base layer. It’s nice and tight, see. Makes your ass look good eh?
Strap your shin pads on next. And then slip these socks over top. You can probably guess what team you’re going on with those colours. Here are your pants, now you’re really looking big. Skates are next. Tie them tight!
All that’s left are shoulder pads, elbow pads and a jersey. What do you think of your number? Throw these gloves on and here’s your stick. Oh! I almost forgot your helmet. As soon as I put this on the change will be done. You’ll be a complete hockey player, from the way you talk to the way you dress. You’ll even have the skill. Ready for this? I bet you fucking are! You can’t wait to get out there and do some dirty dangles, eh bud? All right. Here it goes!
I see this as a win, personally. From a nobody into a somebody.
Henry had felt hazy ever since going into the locker room at the gym. The blonde twink never had the urge to try and take a shower there before, he was too shy and timid amongst the crowd of burly masculine men, nervous about his lithe figure being judged or his feminine manners being laughed at. But he had really worked up a sweat today, and he hated feeling gross and sticky. As soon as he pushed open the doors and strolled in, he was assaulted by the pungent odor of protein farts, fetid and spicy and reeking of digested tacos. It shot up his nose, made his head start to ache, and he couldn’t help but assume the two large, bulging Latino fuck boys chatting off to the side were the source of the stench.
He plugged his nose as he sat his items down and started to undress, ignoring the muscled men as they laughed and called out to him, their language lost on him. But he understands the word gringo, white boy, and that causes his pasty skin to flush with embarrassment.
As quickly as he could, he jumped into the shower, closing the curtain behind him, washing and lathering until the banter of the bros finally stopped and faded into silence. He sighed in relief, running his thin fingers through his pale hair. When the coast was clear, he stepped out from behind the curtain, and he gasped in shock.
His old gym outfit and his fresh change of clothes had been stolen from his bag! He made sure all his other belongings were still in tact, and then he gazed to the side to see… an entirely different outfit laid out. A douchey get up of gym clothes, reeking of that same spicy, musky aroma, sweat stains around the pits. He couldn’t just walk out of here in a towel! Panicking and embarrassed and just wanting to go home, Henry squirmed into the outfit, hating the feeling of the damp sweaty fabric touching his clean skin. He pulled on the oversized tank top, the baggy black shorts, even slipped on the ball cap because it was available and maybe he could use it to hide his face.
And then, quickly and quietly, he rushed home.
He was so embarrassed and flustered that on the drive home he didn’t realize his hand switched the station over to some Hispanic tunes. He only lived fifteen minutes away after all, and the last thing he cared about was jamming out. The underwear he had put on felt warm and slick against his tiny, bubbly ass, wedging between his cheeks, making him wince in disgust from the sensation. The smell seemed to be flooding his entire car, and he was sure the ball cap was making his hair stink, too. He would shower again when he was home, throw these clothes away, and… he felt so itchy!
He rubbed his jaw, mind hazy and foggy as he felt the rough bristle of hairs breaking through the harder, more chiseled skin. The more he rubbed the scruff, the more his initial fear turned into pride. Wouldn’t he have always rocked a beard if his genetics allowed it? Why would he be afraid right now? He licked his upper lip, the burn of peach fuzz scraping his fattening tongue, a black bushy chinstrap completing its hold around his lower face. His cock twitched inside the sweaty underwear, engorging and pulsing against the damp fabric, shaft sliding up and down against the filth.
He felt more itching and stinging across his chest, but a glance down at his body revealed he was still smooth and neatly shaven. He glanced up too early to notice the douchey Roman numerals etching themselves across his chest. Each intake of air, of that fetid aroma, seemed to make his pecs grow wider and fatter and thicker with muscle. His traps pulled at the straps of the tank top, pulling the sweaty strip of fabric taut around his torso. The hands gripping the steering wheel had become veiny and large, fat sausage fingers gripping the plastic, holding it firmly. He let go with one hand, running it down his torso and his chiseled abs as he felt his biceps blowing up with muscle, so thick and juicy his skin chaffed and rubbed against itself. If he looked in the mirror, he would see beautiful chocolate brown eyes clouded in lust, sun kissed skin taking over his pale complexion.
The bushy chinstrap and caterpillar eyebrows on his face were now thick and pitch dark, and his blonde bangs had pulled up under his sweaty cap and turned the same black shade as his forest of body hair. He bounced his pecs, a large meaty hand reaching into his damp shorts and pulling out his cock, a cross necklace manifesting around his neck and bouncing between his jiggling mounds of muscle tits. His fat cock- wait wasn’t it less than aver- his leaking horse cock was standing at attention, pre dripping down his thick fingers, veins pulsing against his calloused palm. He ignored the itch of thick, dark, sweaty pubes scratching his hand, wasting no time running his large hand up and down the bloated shaft. His waist stretched the band of his shorts as it widened, his thighs and legs bloating with muscle and fat, bones cracking as he grew taller and taller until the top of his head lightly touched the roof of his car. As he stroked, Henry had one final moment of brief panic. Was he really jacking off? What if he came all over himself and his car? Wasn’t he just anxious because he already felt so dirty?
He could feel his fat, muscled ass blossoming beneath him, wiry hairs itching between his crack, his once pink hole now brown and rank and tightly sealed, trapped between the jiggling, juicy globes of jock meat. His outfit was freshly drenched from the gym, proof of his hard effort. He was a man’s man, sculpted to perfection, every Latina mama’s dream guy to take care of her daughter. Or breed her, at the very least.
He was thinking about sexy Latina tits and pussy when his fat cock finally spewed its seed, blasting out the remains of the former Henry with it. The twink's last cry for help was drowned under the man's low, satisfied moan. Enrique panted in ecstasy, shoving his still wet cock into his already ruined underwear. Now his car smelled like cum and sweat, but he didn’t give a shit. That was the musk of a proud Mexican man, and he had no shame. He was only rushing home so he could text one of his bimbo bitches to come over and be bred by him. His hand had nothing on slick pussy.
Leaning to one side, about to pull into his driveway, Enrique wasted no time adding one more foul smell to the car. He rocketed a loud protein fart out of his fuzzy Latino ass, the final traces of Henry’s fears and confusion sputtering out with it. PRFFFFFFFFT!
He couldn’t wait to hang with his bros at the gym and make fun of gringos together again tomorrow.
30 Days - Day 2
My eyes blinked open slowly. There was no alarm to wake me up this morning. I adjusted my underwear, sniffing my fingers afterward and getting caught up in my aroma. Rolling out of bed, I looked at my thick thighs and tight waist. I was a slim hottie today!
In the bathroom mirror I was able to confirm my predictions. I remarked at my boyish looks and chiselled muscles. My name is Ethan Miller, 22 years old. Certified jock and current student at the local collage.
I flopped my hair before jumping in the shower. Lathering up my chest and shoulders, I couldn’t help but move my hands down to my dick and rub one out. It felt good.
I threw some wax in my hair and prettied up myself before heading to the gym. I had some time to kill anyway. A buddy shot a pic of me, because I looked extra slutty. I made sure to send it to some girls’ Snapchats.
Class was boring, bro. I spent most of the time checking out Snapchat anyway. I made a plan to meet with a chick after class who was totally down to fuck. It’s fun being cocky and young.
Previous day - Next day
Chronivac Twins
The moment I saw this AI image, I knew I had to write something. Probably one of the hottest things I have ever seen.
Special thanks to @octuscle for the image inspiration. Here is a link to their original story.
- - - - - - - -
Empty beer cans filled the table in front of the two men. The room was silent, the TV showing the console home screen, and darkness was creeping in from the night. The night was winding down, and the two friends were enjoying peaceful moment before the night truly wrapped up.
Mason breathed a heavy sigh, comfortable in his current state. He was clearly drunk, but happily drunk. He fished around in his pockets, feeling for the recent purchase he had received that day: a brand new Chronivac tablet. He pulled it out of his pocket, powering it on for the first time, watching the screen suddenly brighten, flashing the Chronivac logo.
“Check it out!” Mason suddenly exclaimed, surprising even himself with his boldness. “I got this new Chronivac in the mail.”
Beside him sat Chris, Mason’s best friend since grade school. Chris was drunker than Mason was, with his eyes closed and his body still, but he too was in happy state of intoxication.
“Oh yeah? What is that?” Chris slurred from the other end of the coach. The back of Mason’s head was resting on the top of the sofa, leaned back in an almost unnatural position. A massive drunken grin was plastered on his face, highlighting the comfortable state he was currently in.
Mason held up the sleek tablet to an oblivious Chris. A loading screen flashed again as the system booted up.
“Yeah, it’s a tool that lets me change a part of my body. Actually it will change a part of both of us. They had a deal on the twins package.”
“Cool…” Chris breathed.
“Yeah. I know you have been feeling down lately, so I thought it would be nice to spice things up for you. Plus, you know you’re my bro. We’ve been buds since we were five years old. I figured it was time we made it official.”
Mason began tapping at the screen, swiping at different sliders and dials. There were dozens of different settings with labels like “Hair”, “Muscle Levels”, “Race/Nationality”… Mason balked at the overwhelming choices and options, but forced himself to stay focussed; this was a change he had wanted for a while.
“So I was thinking of doing some kind of mixed race. Hmm. Japanese and Mexican? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. I bet that would look hot. With jacked muscles, like body builders. And since we’re gonna be twins, you’ll get it too. Sound good to you Chris?”
Chris only smiled and laughed to himself, the way drunk people often do. It was clear he was not fully present in the moment. Mason took Chris’ drunken laughter as a sign of agreement and continued with the settings page. He slid up the muscle slider to the max, added jock personalities and details such as personal trainer and fitness influencer. He double checked the ‘Race’ tab, making sure that Japanese and Mexican were both checked off. Pleased with his work, he continued on to the last section, “Target Selection” and “Transform”. He allowed the device a few moments to calibrate before confirming the two bodies in the room. He double checked that the “Twins” button was selected and hovered over the Transform button.
“All right bro. This is it. See you on the other side!”
And with that he tapped the button. The screen went blank for a moment, creating a quick sense of panic in Mason’s heart, but reappeared with a white, animated progress bar.
Mason looked down at his hands and arms. “I don’t feel any different,” he said.
He checked the screen again. The progress bar had moved up by one pixel and showed a time remaining of 1440 minutes.
“Oh shoot! I set the transformation duration to be 24 hours. Well that’s okay. When we wake up tomorrow, we’ll definitely see some changes! Next time you see me Chris I’ll be be a huge muscled-out bro. And a completely different race. And so will you! We’ll be twins. Pedro and Miguel. We’re gonna be so fucking hot.”
A gentle and rhythmic breathing came from the other end of the couch. Mason turned his head and grinned at Chris who had passed out on the couch.
“See you in the morning, Miguel,” he whispered.
-
Bright sunlight was pouring into the apartment. The morning was late, but the day was still young. Chris stirred on the sofa; he was now lying horizontally on the couch, shirtless and in his underwear. He blinked his eyes in the sunlight, rubbing his eyelids with a balled up fist, and stretching against the soft cushions of the sofa. His broad feet pushed against the far armrest, and his arms stretched off behind him. He sat up, and noticed his first change.
Looking down at his chest, Chris saw his pectoral muscles had ballooned out in front of him to a God-like proportion. He cupped his chest, making note of how his nipple had slipped down below his eye line, and squeezed the new muscle.
“What the fuck?” He exclaimed. “Why do I have tits?”
Mason launched himself off the sofa and dove into the bathroom. The flickering fluorescent light clicked on, revealing the extent of Mason’s initial changes. Below his chest were the unmistakeable beginnings of 6-pack abs. Mason ran his fingers over top of his stomach, remembering the slight beer gut that had been there the night before.
He leaned in closer to the mirror and begin poking and prodding his face. His nose seemed wider and his eyes were narrower. His lips were plumping as well, into two thick pillows. He ran his meatier fingers through his darkening hair; it seemed thicker, curlier and shorter than it had before. He pulled a strand and watched it bounce back into place on his scalp.
The sound of a door slamming brought Chris out of his trance. He stepped out of the bathroom and back into the main room.
“Bro!” Mason called from the entry-way. “Are you up?”
“Yeah! What the fuck is happening to me?” Chris replied in anguish.
Mason came around the corner and Chris immediately became aware that the changes he was going through were also happening to Mason. Mason appeared to be several inches shorter, and Chris noticed that he was roughly eye-level to himself now. His chest and abs were similarly large and muscled as Chris’ were, except Mason’s shoulders and arms were much wider. Veins pulsed across Mason’ skin and over his bulging biceps. His nose and eye shape seemed strangely familiar, as did the plumpness of his lips. Mason noticed that Chris’ hair was shorter on top with a shaved, faded appearance on the side.
“Mason, what the fuck is happening? I pass out drunk and wake up all top heavy like this! And then you waltz in looking like that! What the fuck?”
“Chill out bro,” Pedro said. “And my name isn’t Mason anymore. It’s Pedro. And your name isn’t Chris, it’s Miguel. You’re turning out to be such a hot twin.”
Chris/Miguel was unable to get anymore words out as sharp pains coursed through his arms and legs. He hunched over, wrapping his growing limbs around his torso. In front of his eyes he saw the muscles in his arms and legs double, triple and quadruple in size, into massive slabs of muscle. His trap muscles ached and burned as the fibres inside re-stitched themselves, growing to match the mass of his arms and chest. Across the room Pedro grinned in anticipation, as his adonis belt thinned out, becoming lean and chiselled, into his tight pelvis and butt.
“Miguel, we’re going to be so hot!” Pedro’s voice was deeper and more coastal sounding. His jock-instincts were bubbling in his brain, overwriting whatever personality he had before.
“Don’t call me that. My name is Miguel. I mean Chris.” Chris stammered. “How did you even do this?”
“Bro, it was the Chronivac. I told you last night. Just embrace it. I paid good money for this twins package.”
“I need to call them. There has to be a way to reverse this.”
With a wide stride, Chris/Miguel walked over to where his phone was, but doubled over as a burning pain seared through his stomach. He squeezed with his hands, feeling the muscles underneath swell and grow under his touch. Before his eyes his abs went from flat and empty to being completely ripped. His waist got tighter as his adonis belt and hip muscles also tensed and flexed, just like Pedro’s had.
“Bro, I have a six pack!” Chris exclaimed, his voice cracking as it matched the timbre of Pedro’s.
“They match mine, bro!” Pedro said.
Chris shook his head. If he could just call the company and explain what the problem was, then he figured he could stop the changes. He found his phone and brought it to his face, waiting for Face ID to unlock. The phone vibrated in his dark and meaty hand, refusing to unlock. In the black mirror of his phone, he saw a completely different face than the one he was used to. His nose was wider, and his jaw was leaner. His eyes had narrowed into Asian-like features and his hair was shorter and darker than before. His face was looking identical to Pedro’s, right down to the plump lips.
In a panic, Chris typed in his passcode and Googled the number for Chronivac. The phone began ringing.
“Hello?” said a voice on the other end.
“Hello, is this support? My name is Miguel, I mean Chris. My name is Chris. I don’t own your product, but my brother Pedro — I mean my best friend Mason does. He used the Chronivac on me last night and I woke up with big muscles and my face is looking Japanese and Mexican? And the same thing is happening to him! He says we’re becoming twins. This has to be against your Terms of Service! I didn’t agree to this.”
A dark skin spot formed on the back of Chris’ hand, spreading across his skin and up his bulging arms. His skin was darkening, to match his new ethnicity.
“It sounds to me like it might be too late to intervene. Our records show Pedro and Miguel Watanabe.”
“That’s right,” Miguel interjected. He was Miguel, not Chris.
“Yeah,” the agent continued. “So your brother got the Twins Package, and since you are legally twins now, there’s nothing that can be done to change back the transformation. But it’s going to be great being a pair of super hot Latino-Asian influencers, right?”
“Yeah,” Miguel replied absent-mindedly, and in a voice that was deepening. “Thanks anyway. Peace.”
He hung up and tossed the phone aside. Pedro wandered over and wrapped his hand around his twin brother’s shoulder.
“It’s at ninety-nine percent,” Pedro said, indicating the transformation process on the Chronivac.
Miguel felt another spasm in his thighs and legs and saw his skin was now completely browned and tanned now. His legs were thick and bulging, and so was the rest of his body. A wave of emotions came feelings rolled over his brain, and Miguel stood silently in place as his brain and personality adjusted to match his new physique. Pedro stood still for a moment too, as the twenty-two year old twins realized they could speak English, apanese and Spanish and had a long history of lifting weights and posting work-out videos on TikTok. The transformation progress bar clicked up one last pixel to one-hundred percent, snapping the twins out of their daze.
“Bro,” Pedro said. “You wanna get a workout in?”
“You know it!” Miguel said, high-fiving his twin brother with a grin.
