The Click

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. 

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.”

All-Star Catcher

My name is Alan and I'm the star shortstop for my small college team. I've always dreamed of making it in the big leagues. I don't remember a time when I didn't have a glove in my hand. There's just something about having this uniform on that makes me stoked for the day. I've trained all day every day since I was a kid until the lamp posts came on and my mom or friends telling me to wrap it up for the day. Even my girlfriend gets jealous sometimes that I don't spend enough time with her. I feel guilty but if I'm being honest, she's second to my love for the game.

It's Friday and we're towards the end of our game against the college across town. They don't stand a chance against our team, but especially my quick moves in the field. They can't get any balls past me! My blood is rushing with adrenaline and I'm feeling confident.

That's when I noticed in the stands some older guys with notepads looking my way. Shit, there are scouts here! This could be big for me as I've always dreamed of being drafted by an MLB team. I push away their presence and focused on the game. The batter then slams a ball my way and I instinctually jump to catch it before it rolls into the outfield. The crowd and my team go crazy! It was the game ending play. My team rushes to lift me up into the air and I can't help but notice the scouts smiling my way.

I'm walking out of the locker rooms still in my uniform feeling the after-game buzz when one of the scouts approaches me.

"Hey there! You're Alan right? Michael Right from the NY Mets. Crazy catch you got there at the end!"

"Thanks so much! It was a lucky save." I said modestly.

"Nonsense! You really have something kid. If you're interested, I'd like you to meet some players from the Mets. We love to see how future prospects mesh with our team."

I was stunned. "I would love that!" Meeting the Mets was a dream for a local town kid such as myself.

"Great! I'll book you on a flight to see them before their big game tomorrow. Some of the players could really use someone with your kind of catching skills."

That last line didn't quite make sense since I didn't think catching was what I was known for, but I would agree to anything to meet the team and make a name for myself.

_____________________________________

It's the next day and I'm being escorted up to the dugout by Michael. It's a few hours before their game and the players are shooting the shit while beginning their stretches. Michael has been so kind to me, and he's even told me about the recent slump the Mets have been in. He's hoping some fresh blood will bring back the mojo for the team.

"Cody! Come over here. I'd love for you to meet Alan, one of our prospects." Michael yelled over to this good looking guy from the opposite side of the dugout. I'm not gay, but even I can tell he's not sleeping alone most nights.

"Sup! I'm Cody. You must be Alan. Michael's told me a lot about you." He shook my hand and gave me a pat on the back. I was enamored and if I'm being honest, a little turned on. My girl would get a kick if she knew I thought that even for a second. I shook it from my head and chalked it up to the star power.

We talked some more and Cody then offered to have me stretch with them. I couldn't believe it, and instantly jumped to join them. I was already in my uniform per Michael's request. I found it strange at first but figured it would help the team picture me among them.

We started with with arm stretches. ""You'll need bigger arms if you hope to be on the team." Cody commented. At that moment I was surprised to see my arms beginning to stretch and bulk. I was freaked out but remained silent as I didn't want to embarrass myself. My arms were twice times the size and I was feeling energy flowing from my arms to my back.

"Maybe even do some lat pulldowns here and there. They really help stabilize your center." Cody continued. He was looking me over while he stretched.

I felt my back start to contract and pull. My back was beginning to fill out my shirt more and I stood up straighter. I began to quietly moan from the pleasure of my abs molding into a carved six pack and my pecs swelling until they were perky. Fuck! What is happening to me?!

I looked over to Cory to see if he noticed the changes. I started to notice just how handsome he was. The fuck? Am I bi? I tried to compare him to my girlfriend but I was having a hard time picturing her. All I could think of was how Cody's arms flexed to fill up his sleeves. Fuck, he was pretty hot.

"Let's see if you can touch your toes. A good base is important. Those hamstrings and glutes are really going to come in handy as well." Cody said as I began to reach for my toes.

Once I tapped my toes I felt my feet begin to expand. Bones started to crack and my shoes were being pushed past their limits. Soon my feet burst through my cleats growing to at least a size 13! I could feel Cody eyeing them lustfully. I started to imagine Codys face in the soles of my feet when the pressure in my cup started increasing. The moan from my mouth was louder now, and I was filling with lust for Cody. I wanted him to peg me down so badly.

My thoughts were interrupted by my legs starting to fill up the remaining space in my pants. The uniform material was stretching to its max and my ass was forming into a round perky bubble butt.

I stood up and began taking the changes in. I was beefy and feeling insanely powerful.

Cody walked over smiling "Looks like you'll give us just the boost we need. All the guys here love to pitch, but you'll make for a solid catcher."

He smacked me on my ass and I almost fell to my knees in pleasure. Fuck, I wanted to show my gratitude for the team so badly. Cody gave me another smack and whispered in my ear "Show me what you've got rookie."

I smiled at my new teammates and showed them what was waiting for them after each game.

Emergency Model

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"Excuse me, what's your shoe size?"

Bewildered I looked around to find the man who asked the random question, like out of that old episode of Monty Python. Off to the side, almost behind me, was a thirty-ish man in polo shirt, jeans, and glasses with plastic rims that looked purposefully selected to make him look like a film director or architect. He looked unsure or stressed. "Eight, eight and a half. Who's asking?"

Immediately he brightened up. "Hello. I'm Ben Atkinson, " he said and extended his hand. "We're making a photo shoot of the supplemental collection of sporting clothes," he continued without waiting for me to shake it. "It's all for the online shop, so simple stuff. White background, a few poses." Tentatively I shook his hand. "Pretty fast rotation of models. Unfortunately one of them has called in sick. You have the right look, but more importantly the right build and size."

"Uhum," I answered, sensing where this was going. It was a Saturday morning, and I was on my way to meet up with some friends at Wayland's Deli.

"This is quite sudden, but we are on a tight deadline. If you're willing to model for us I'll give you twice the normal rate."

"Ok," I said, not waiting to hear what the normal rate was. I'm sure Stuart would not stop giving me grief about it for the rest of the year, but I would technically be a photo model which wouldn't be a negative in Sarah's eyes. Turned out that it would also be double my monthly earnings as well, so maybe I could shut Stuart up as well.

We entered the building, which apparently was an office space that had been taken over for the day for the shoot. There were racks of clothes everywhere, lots of people with iPads tracking what item was where, who should wear it, and in what conference room they should shoot it. It was bustling with activity. After some exchange of information with Ben, and signing papers, I was handed over to a conference room turned makeup and styling studio. Most of the furniture was stacked in one corner and the floor was covered by transparent plastic that had been rolled out. To one side was a table with lots of makeup tools and bottles and stuff I wouldn't know how to use, except maybe the hand mirror and the scissors, and even that I'm not confident with. A pair of strong LED lamps on stands lit a chair placed at the center of the plastic. 

"I'm Julia, pleased to meet you. So you are the last one," said the stylist, carefully surveying me and in particular my face and hair. "We're short on time, so we have to work quickly. Are you ok with a buzz cut and tight fade?" Not what I would have chosen, but it's starting to get warm outside and it's only hair. I'd be back to my current length after the summer. "Sure."

She seated me in the chair and began the work with a corded trimmer, and soon a flurry of detail work with smaller trimmers and some of her tools from the table. Probably took her about ten minutes for the haircut. Then some time with a straight razor blade and a tweezer to pluck and shave all over my face and then arms. I told her that this was all new to me, having literally just been picked from the street. She reassured me that there wasn't much to it. Just be no-nonsense about it. Take whatever the stylist decides, change clothes quickly, do the poses the photographer asks for, and repeat.

"All done," she said and handed me the hand mirror as if I had any say in this. I looked so different than just moments before. The hair was shorter than I've ever had it, with a razor sharp fringe line. The fade on the sides was basically just an inch tall from the head and down the temple, then skin tight down, and presumably the same around the back of the head as well. The total amount of hair I was left with could fit a shot glass. "If you go down the corridor to the break room there is a shower in the bathroom there. Ask Andy outside to let you in. Take a quick rinse to get rid of stray hairs, change into these, put your stuff in one of the plastic boxes there, and come back to me for a final touch-up." She handed me a pair of white briefs and white socks. I hesitated a bit, and she was quick to jump ahead of my thoughts. "Everyone around here are used to see gorgeous bodies without clothes. Act as if it is normal, because to us it is. You can't be self-conscious. Oh, and Andy is the only one with a key, so your valuables are safe." Another boy showed up at the door saying he needed a new application. I told Julia thanks and went to look for Andy.

Andy unlocked the door to the office lunch room for me and I did as Julia had told me. I stripped naked and put everyting, clothes, wallet, phone, keys, shoes, into one of the plastic boxes, wrote my name on it with a whiteboard marker and placed it next to all the other boxes. Eight boxes in total. I went into the bathroom, took a 90 seconds shower, and dried myself off with one of the towels from the pile. I put on the briefs and socks, had Julia apply her things to me, and within ten minutes I was dressed in Nike shoes, joggers, and a fleece hoodie, being ordered by a photographer who didn't have time to introduce himself to look left, turn around, put my hands in my pockets, pull up the hood, sit down on the floor, and on and on. Then out change, and back with the next item.

It was going non-stop since they were behind on my stuff, so I had barely time to talk to anyone. There wasn't any proper lunch break either, just a protein bar together with two of the other models, Mark and Andrew. At first they thought it was funny that I had just been snatched off the street for the shoot, but when I told them how much more money I got they were like "fuck you, go back to work". Well the break was over anyway, so I don't know how serious they were.

It continued with item after item, until I realized I was the only model left. The others had taken off without saying goodbye, not that we had any relation. People were moving things out of the office, and when I asked about the hurry they said there was a firm deadline when they had to be out so the cleaning crew could put everything back to a working office again. I could feel the pressure as it was my item changes that held up everyone. I swapped into a pair of MRKNTN underwear that probably was like half a size too small but decided to just power through with the shoot. As soon as the last photo had been taken, they started to dismantle the light rigs. As I walked back to the lunch room I could see that most of the clothes racks were gone. The makeup room was back to looking like a conference room. I couldn't find Andy anywhere though, and the lunch room with my stuff was still locked. I wanted my stuff for sure, but more importantly I wanted to get out of the underwear that kept squeezing and chafing. I couldn't go more than 30 seconds without having my hands down the joggers to adjust them.

Ben wasn't anywhere to be seen either. I asked one of the remaining people and he said they had all left, working on getting all the stuff back and preparing the "delivery pipeline" for the photos. Probably Andy had checked off everyone from his list, and it was printed before I was recruited. "Just keep the clothes you have on and you can come back here Monday and pick up your stuff," Ben said.

Fuck.

No point in hanging around any longer. Everyone wanted to leave as soon as possible, so I just left and headed towards the bus stop. It was getting late and with no phone on me I couldn't call home and say what was going on.

Fuck.

I didn't have anything to pay the bus fare with. I could perhaps go back to the office building and see if I could catch anyone exiting, use their phone, and call for someone to pick me up. But there was no telling if and when I would get hold of anyone. Just walking back there would make me miss the next bus, so that would set me back at least an hour. I could just as well ask someone else to use their phone. Or perhaps ask them to cover the bus fare.

That's when I saw them, a little bit further down the street, past the bus stop. Six boys huddled at the corner, talking and messing around as if no one else was around. One had a bike. All of them dressed in the kind of clothes I had spent all day modeling in, track suits, hoodies, trainers. All of them were smoking. I figured I'd have as good a chance with them as with anyone else now, looking the way I looked.

As I was getting closer one of them alerted the others and they had some kind of conversation about me. "Hello, excuse me. Could I borrow money for the bus fare from any of you?" There was a second of silence before a mixed snicker erupted, and one of them answered "No, bruv. I don't think so."

I don't know why, but for some reason I was mortified by how I had been dismissed. I could feel my face turning red, so I quickly turned away from them to make my way back to the bus stop, without any plan of what to do next.

"Oi, bruv!" I heard from behind me. Looking back at them I could see three boys had gotten up and were heading my way. "Callum's grafting down at the barber's for some extra quid and need someone to practice on. What if he can do some practice while we cover the fare and take you home safely? Fair, innit?"

"I barely have any hair," I said and let my hand touch my fresh skin fade, almost shocking myself with how radically different it felt.

"Won't be much of a nick then, bruv."

He was right. There wasn't much he could ruin. I had only a few millimeters of hair so in the worst case scenario I could shave completely and it would be back within the week.

"Good lad. A deal innit."

"Yes," I said, unsure if it was expected. The guy who had spoken and Callum flanked me while the third lad walked behind me, enveloping me with the scent of smoke and body spray. After a silent moment the guy spoke again, introducing himself as Iwan and the third guy as Rob, and asked where I lived. I gave him the bus stop, Hillside Garden North, about 18 minutes ride. Would have been busy during the week, but at weekends there wouldn't be many on the bus.

We didn't have to wait long for the bus to arrive, but instead of entering by the driver they all bunched up again with me in the middle and entered through the exit doors as a single unit. Then they quickly moved to the back of the bus and pushed me into a seat next to Callum, facing Iwan and Rob in the furthest back seat. I half expected the driver to say something over the speakers, but there was barely a delay, if any, before the bus was moving as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I looked at Iwan with perhaps a bit of surprise and he just shrugged as if to say "what did you expect? That the driver would confront us?"

Then he nodded at Callum next to me, backpack in his lap, who answered "Aye" and got up. He placed the bag on the seat and positioned himself right in front of me, one leg on either side of mine, his knees hitting the edge of the seat, and his left hand grabbing the rail behind me. It felt both imposing and intimate. He opened the backpack and rummaged around with his right hand until he found a small trimmer in a zip-lock bag.

He opened it with both hands and threw the plastic bag into the backpack. Then he looked out and waited for the bus to drive on straight and even road before he turned the trimmer on. Then slowly he moved it in an arched line from my temple and along the side of my head until he reached the neck. Then he studied for a few seconds before he made a few additional buzzes along the same line.

"Not bad, innit?" he said while shifting his body so Iwan and Rob could see. "Fucking mint, mate," Iwan answered.

Then he turned on the trimmer again and unexpectedly extended the line by buzzing my eyebrow for a few seconds. I hadn't even considered my eyebrows. Callum reached into his backpack again to put the trimmer in the zip-lock, but without moving his feet so his body pressed even closer to me. While I couldn't see much, I could certainly feel his body spray filling my nostrils while I felt my eyebrows with my fingers. I guess there would be a lot to explain to mother anyway, so this would just be yet another detail.

I could just see it for a fraction of a second. It looked like a small glue gun in off-white plastic. Then before I could realize what it was it was pressed against my ear, it made a snapping sound, and I felt a sharp pain. "What the!" I said, more in surprise than pain.

"18G piercing. Hurts more, heals slower, but much better," Callum offered, as if it was the type of piercing that was in question, not that he had done it at all. He reloaded the piercing gun and I struggled with what to do. Just take it like the first one? Why should I? But then one piercing was the real threshold. Once you pass that, two is if anything better than one. This would soon be over anyway.

He was just as quick with the second one as the first one. "These need to stay in 30 days, you hear me?" he said, still standing essentially on top of me. "Yes, I understand," I understand, I said with a sinking feeling of all the implications. He put the gun back into the bag and went searching for something again. Finally he pulled out some sort of pliers, then held my earlobe with one hand while doing something with the pliers with the other. "Making sure they don't fall off," he explained before sitting down again on his seat. I could see Iwan and Rob again, and booth looked pleased. Iwan looked absolutely chuffed. "Fucking proper, innit" he said and pat me hard on the shoulder. "Fucking proper."

After than Iwan opened up and started to ask me all kinds of questions, starting with my name, which I realized I hadn't given him when he presented everyone. I was soon giving the highlights of the day as a photo model until we arrived my stop. To my surprise everyone got off with me. "Said we would take you home safe." We continued to chat all the way home and it turned out me Iwan and Rob had the same taste in electronic music while Callum was more of a rock guy.

"Ok, this is my stop," I said once we reached my house. "Meet us Monday, same time and place," Iwan said. "What?" "You owe us £2 for the bus, bruv." "But..." "You going back on our deal?" "No, I'll come by." "And wear the same clothes. Underwear too." "No! I have classes." "You'll figure it out, bruv." Callum opened his backpack again and tossed something to Iwan. "And use this," he said and handed over a can of Lynx Jungle body spray. "What if I don't? What if I don't do any of that?" "Where you live isn't a secret, innit? See you Monday, bruv."

Fuuuuck dude. You made me so aggro. Like I feel so fuckin alpha bruh. Like fire in my veins dude. All this muscle, all this confidence, all this cock huhu. Dude I thought you’d just give me a boost but now all I wanna do is show off and fuck. Like you really got rid of that pathetic pussy I was before. Limp dicked nervous little fuck. But man… maybe you took it too far…? Like I feel like, like such a dumb douchebag…. A hot dumb jacked douchebag. A cocky dumb meathead… Mmm yeah bruh. Look at this body flex. I love it. I mean so what if I am a dumb pretty muscle bro. Check me out. I deserve respect, to fuck and be fucked. So, what you looking at bro? Like what you see? What you made me into? Cause I don’t know if you can handle this cock or hot hard ass. But let’s find out.

The process of broification comes with many changes, many of which can and will surprise you once you go through the transformation yourself.

For me, all I had to do was join a gym. I had no intention of "becoming a bro" when I did. I just wanted to improve my mental health and wanted to look nice--and for the first several months that was my mindset--until something began to change in me.

The transformation can look different for everyone, but it can also have a lot of similarities. I can only speak for myself, but here are the changes I've noticed:

Feeling more confident: I noticed myself just not caring about negative opinions of me. While I try to always be nice to the people I interact with, I'm less willing to put up with bullshit and more willing to speak my mind. Boundaries will be set. Even the way I walk feels more naturally confident.

Feeling more masculine: That kinda goes with the previous item, but I also feel more confident as a man. I love my body, I love testosterone, I love having a penis, I love being a man.

Increased libido: I'm horny more often, especially with that pump of testosterone I get after a good gym session. I make a point of giving my cock the love it deserves.

Becoming more sexually dominant: While I've always felt like I had a dormant "dom side", I was always more of a vanilla kinda guy; but since I began going to the gym and embracing my masculinity, it's like that "dom side" finally woke up. And you can bet I'm going to have my fun ;)

New taste in clothes: I'm much more attracted to gym clothes, sports clothes, and clothes that show more skin, both in myself and in other people. I prefer short shorts and gym shorts, cut-off shirts, loose fit tank tops with drop armholes, basketball jerseys, sweatpants with no shirt on, among other things.

Sudden interest in sports: I was never a sports guy, but I grew a sudden interest and watching weightlifting and powerlifting competitions as an extension of my interest in fitness. That somehow led me to get curious about other sports too, like football (NFL). The funny thing is that this was a natural thing for me. At no point did I force myself to get into sports. It just happened.

Interest in meeting other bros: I began craving more brotherhood. I already had regular friends before, but I grew a sudden interest in befriending other bro types, both as people to get inspiration from as well as the fact that I now shared interests with them. I like to say that masculinity needs masculinity and that's what I felt. There's nothing like the bond between bros. You start craving people who are like you and match your bro vibes.

Changes in the way I talk: This one was more of a lowkey change, but I noticed myself become more slangy, saying things like "dude" and "bro" much more often, and even cussing a bit more (but like in a chill kind of way).

Change in personality: While I was always a chill and down to earth guy, I noticed the transformation put a layer of cockiness and upbeatness on top of my personality. There's a kind of "let's fucking go" energy about me.

Craving the gym: And of course, the gym. The more you go, the more you want it. Working out has become more than something I did just because I wanted to better my mental health or look nice. It's something I can't see myself without anymore. The gym has become my second home, because it's where I feel my best self.

I'm sure there are other changes too, but these were the ones that stood out to me the most. If you're on your journey of becoming a bro, keep at it. Keep showing up to the gym and let your mind be absorbed by it. Let it transform you. You got this, bro.