Reblog This If You Want To Pump Yourself Up To Be Perfect Dumb Muscle

New Blood (Chapter 2)

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New Blood (Chapter 1)

This is my first TF story. I hope you enjoy and I have plenty of other ideas I've come up with for future stories. -----------------------

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.

Coach's Process of Developing a Jock

TW: mentions of bullying and harassment

There are three pillars that Coach considers vital to the development of his jocks.

The first one is physical strength - football jocks need to have the primal urge to lift heavy things and spend hours at the gym, as well as a never-fulfilled desire for their muscles to get bigger.

The second is football intelligence. A jock shouldn't spend time studying or revising for exams, these things ought not to occupy his mind. But he has to have a detailed understanding of the rules of football, so that he can demolish every oponent he comes across on his way to a championship. He has to know how to execute plays perfectly, read the other team and adapt accordingly.

But the third pillar is just as important as the other two - the attitude. Coach, someone with - let's say - a conservative streak, believes his jocks should present all the masculine traits he deems important, and do this publicly, without shame.

It all begins with pride. From the very beginning of their mental conditioning, Coach makes sure his jocks will he proud men, ready to show off their achievements. A football jock has to make sure everyone around him is aware of his triumphs. This also serves the purpose of keeping the morale in the locker room on a high level - all these jocks have to remember what beasts they are on the field and that they are capable of completely demolishing everyone if they so desire (and Coach makes sure they do desire it).

Next one is domination. As a football machine that is programmed to win, a jock needs to be able to take control of any situation, make himself the alpha in the room and on the gridiron. This assures that he will fight to get that W in all circumstances, not accepting "no" as an answer.

The two traits above are then accented with arrogance. A jock walks around like he owns the place, because he does. The university gets the funding and prestige because of his dominance on the field. He is on top of the social ladder and doesn't question it. He also knows what people are below him and treats them as such, always looking down and displaying his higher status.

All of this is then augmented with anger. Some would call it toxic behavior or "problems with anger management", but for Coach a real jock requires that streak of aggression flowing in his veins. This allows him to function in his environment with ease, as no problem is really a problem when you're ready to just crush your way through it.

And it starts from the very beginning. Hypnotic videos and tracks Coach uses are infested with examples of dominant and cocky behavior. They set the example of how an aggressive and proud football jock acts, and make conforming to such a way or being a high priority.

Later stages require orchestrating scenarios that encourage the expected behaviors and test the instincts of prospective football jocks. When a jock's grades fall below the NCAA threshold Coach suggests getting a nerd to do the hard work. Violence as a way of solving conflicts between jocks is not discouraged, as long as the injuries don't influence in-game performance. Someone always begins a wave of flexing and posing at the end of a team workout sessions.

Every batch of jocks turns into a form of a high-control group after enough time. Bros who respond better to mental conditioning begin to influence other jocks who need some more time to conform, as their proud, masculine behavior and dominance forces the others to either ascend to the same level and join the alpha bros at the top of the ladder or attain the status of "lesser". No football jock will ever be lesser under Coach, so it doesn't take that long for the locker room to become a textbook example of masculinity, cockiness and dominance, with not a single exception to the rule.

In later stages its only a matter of overseeing the jocks in their life on the team, taking action every time it's likely that a jock is sliding back into his "pre-football" ways.

Coach sometimes has to work a bit harder to maintain the order he's created. The league and NCAA officials are not always keen on violence on the sidelines, so when one of his defensive linemen's fist lands on an enemy WR's face, some strings have to be pulled in the background. There are elements within the university structure that are hostile to Coach's methods and the jock attitude he's nurturing inside of his locker room. But every allegation of bullying or cheating can be worked through in such a way that the jocks come out on top. It's not a question of if, but of how.

Every time Coach sees one of his jocks push over a loser on the hallway, trash talk their conference rivals, take part in a biceps measuring contest in the gym or extort some assignments for class, he knows his methods are working exactly as intended.

Now onto the next batch of recruits.

This was my roommate Ian 3 weeks ago. He was a pretty good guy, funny, always upbeat, and a great roommate actually. Both of us are gay, but mutually not into each other- making the living situation drama free. As Ian put it, we were both our own gay stereotype. Ian was the twink- dancing up a club till 3am, throwing around sharp sassy humor, and strutting around in colored briefs with colored drinks. Meanwhile to him I was simply the “muscle bro.”

Our unique characters were all well and good but sometimes I just wanted a simple bro around, a dude who’d drink a beer and watch sports with me not just stream endless Bravo. Or a gym partner to pump weights with not just pass time on the elliptical. So I decided to make some changes around the apartment- and by changes I mean breakfast. Everything starts with the right breakfast- especially when the recipes come from the Jocking Manual.

Ian wasn’t really a morning guy. Dancing till 3am or 4am he rarely left bed on the weekends before noon. But I insisted one weekend that I’d make him breakfast and he’d wake up right. He grumbled- but next day I got up early and started on the pancakes. They have their own irresistible smell and sure enough Ian eventually crawled out of room to sleepily sit at the table. He just had a few small bites that first day but he had to admit there were good and that was enough to get things started. 

As each day passed I started watching improvements with pride. He started getting up a little earlier, catching me in the morning to get a plate of pancakes or a little eggs, and then even going for some bacon. By day four he finally caved and joined me for a gym session. He still insisted on cardio work but eventually he joined me at the bench and he caught on to a routine. He even started showing interest in ESPN, watching some football with me although he mostly just commented on which player he’d wanna be fucked by. But by the way he adjusted his shorts I could tell his equipment was undergoing some of its own upgrades. Two weeks in I figured I could take things up a few levels and I went all out on breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, fruit, ham… He was apprehensive by the spread the next morning but after one bite and he was hooked, wolfing down serving after serving.

The rest of the day he was on fire, ignoring the treadmill completely to max out on deadlifts, bench and bicep curls. Back at the apartment he stayed shirtless, his bony skinny frame on full display, as he switched on tonight game voluntarily. As we watched I could see every one of his thin overworked muscles contract and expand ever so slightly and I smirked as he absentmindedly cupped a hand around his arm and flexed. 

Next morning the changes were on a whole other lever. He appeared early at the table eager for food wearing a tank top I never knew he had. His arms had swollen into meaty baseball mounds and chest had thickened into two actual toned pecs. Stubble wrapped around his sharper jawline and even his voice had lost some of its sing-song pitch and dropped a little. “Yo check it out? who’d believe I had abs?” He smirked before excitedly digging into food.

I could’ve left him like that. His boyish charm mixed with a buff lean body and scruff on his chin. He still had some of that clever sassy charisma aaaand he was hot. And ultimately that was a problem. 

That day at the gym I had a hard time not eyeing his new body as we flexed through each set. He had a cocky smirk plastered on his face that I’d never seen him have before and the bulge straining his now small tight shorts left nothing to the imagination. I could tell he liked the attention. Sure enough in the showers he slipped into my stall asking for some “help with the soap”. We had a roommate pact to never fuck but… fuck he got hot. One fuck session in the showers turned into a continuous night of dirty horseplay at home, made even hotter by the fact that with every thrust into his round bubbly ass I could feel his body get harder.

That week the sex and the workouts were non stop. But I could tell Ian’s interest was wavering as his attitude was becoming incrementally more alpha. A few days went by and I saw him come out of a shower stall proudly followed by a skinny gym bunny limping to grab a towel. Ian just gave me a wink as he swaggered back to his locker, his half hard meat swinging between his legs. Better finish what I started.  

I kept on serving up my special pancakes. Adding on some special cream and unique powdered sugar to keep things on track. Just like that his arms quickly started to seriously swell. His chest and shoulders put on more mass making his old shirts way too small for his bulking frame. He started borrowing my cut off muscle tees and tanks, and then some jock straps- no doubt for a cock that was fattening into a full on a monster. He started loosing some his sassy cleverness, gaining a slow dumb chuckle as his voice grew even deeper and slow. After a week the old Ian was completely gone. “Eat up bro, need our macros- we gotta bulk this month” as he grinned dumbly flexing in front of the mountain of breakfast he made. I seriously had the perfect room mate. 

BREEDR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You enjoy learning new things

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

Yes [-] / No [ ]

You like dogs more than cats

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

Yes [-] / No [ ]

You like hanging out with friends

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

Yes [-] / No [ ]

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

You like big muscles

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

Yes [-] / No [ ]

You frequently attend to the gym

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

Yes [-] / No [ ]

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

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

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

Yes [-] / No [ ]

You engage in manscaping and frequently wash your body

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

Yes [ ] / No [-]

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

You feel at one with your bros

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

Yes [-] / No [ ]

You like to think hard

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

Yes [ ] / No [-]

You want countless children

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

Yes [-] / No [ ]

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

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

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

Yes [-] / No [ ]

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

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

I look up at the screen and see the words

SUBMITTING RESULTS

RETRIEVING BREEDR PERSONALITY PROFILE

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

YOUR BREEDR PERSONALITY IS…

FRAT

FUN-LOVING

ROWDY

ACTIVE

THOUGHTLESS

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

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

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

Be of Service

Round of applause to @mrrharper

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

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

“Looking fire, broski!”

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

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

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

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

“Officers, yeah.” John was irked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“MC 1001, 50% Operation Mode.”

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

“What’s the plan, Jalen?” I spat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright Duke, it’s your turn.”

“Same thing as last time, bruh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Uhhhh, yeah bruh…be of service."

"Well said, Brute."

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

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

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

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

“Yeah bruh…whatever you need.”