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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.

I like the sound of this footy chav, those lads are always fit with perfect arses. I'd like to learn more about your offerings.

Footballer in 3…2…1

Well, the tour of the factory definitely wouldn’t be complete without showing you the footie chav production. Are you interested in buying one yourself? There’s a waiting list but maybe I can work something out. Over here, we already have a batch of victi—ahem, volunteers - as our lawyers insist we call them, on the conveyor belt ready to be converted.

Olly is our training model for this drone. At 21, he was a star striker for a large successful football team. It was a great get to have his likeness and personality scanned into our database. These chav drones have been flying off the shelves since we started production, every football team that can afford one are ordering an Olly model.

You’ve seen the mold press in action already but personally it never gets old with me. Amazing how after only a few short seconds their bodies can be effortlessly reshaped, like a plastic doll. Lean, toned muscle from top to bottom. Put two side by side and you’ll struggle to spot a single difference. This model took a lot of trial and error to get the face just right. But the result is, pardon me for saying, ‘fit as fuck’. And the shaved football outline in the back of their faded hair is a great little touch.

What do you think of the thick, fake diamond earrings? Kinda gaudy, I agree, but completely essential for such a basic chav. Doubly so with their now big, sticking out ears.

Arse inflation is next. What? Come on, we both know it’s half the appeal of watching football. And viewership numbers are important to our sponsors. Just a quick injection of our specialised filler to the buttocks and floomph. Mmm, see, nice and thick. A pair of round footballs for all to enjoy. To bounce with every step. It’s really gonna stand out in a tight pair of footie shorts.

They do tend to look a bit confused at this point, especially after seeing their face in the partition glass. Watching the realisation hit them when they figure out that it’s their own reflection is always funny. The wide eyes, piecing together what’s going to happen to them; that they’re about to be made a moronic twat, sold off to some loser football team. The shock is only temporary, as the deprograming chip is quickly installed in the neck. After which, the Olly chav program gets to work breaking down and subsequently rebuilding their new simplified identity. You should be able to see any resistance fade around about now, as chavdom is bluntly imprinted upon them.

Unfortunately the mind-wipe process isn’t always 100% failproof. We’re working on it. But in the meantime we have all the models sent to the milking room after they’ve done, just to make sure every part of their old self is…expelled. Honestly, for most it usually only takes a few tugs from the suction machine. The ones still desperately trying to hold on will be repeatedly gooned to utter idiocy. Eh, we usually give discounts on those ones.

In addition to being as dumb as a post, Olly was secretly a bit of a horny gay kinkster, which has been retained in the drone models. For our adamantly straight-laced, heterosexual volunteer subjects, it can come as a bit of an adjustment. Especially with some of the more…extreme desires implanted. If it’s any consolation for them, they’re going to be comically straight acting, just to overcompensate. Although…I guess that’s a bit of a bummer for anyone more flamboyant, like you are. Ah—sorry, just an observation.

Anyway. Simply put, it means - of course, they love the smell of their own feet. After every match they eagerly remove their cleats and take a long hit off their ripe foot stench. The fact that people are watching and can see their cocks visibly tenting doesn’t matter, they’re just a chav drone after all. ‘Blud, me feet reek’ is reportedly the most common phrase of the Olly model. Probably about 1 in 5 odds when they open their mouth. Suffice to say, any ex girlfriends would be quite mortified about their new ‘foot boy’ status.

Hm? Oh, don’t mind that, casually scratching one’s nuts isn’t too uncommon after all inhibitions have been deleted. There’s no space for self awareness in their programming. No space for much at all really. Except obnoxious narcissism and how to be the perfect player. Their whole world will become nothing but football, it’s all they’ll be able to think about, talk about. No distractions, it’s why they’re such proficient team members. Their brain is basically just a big empty football. No worries about them being off side, that’s for sure haha!

We’ve found they get on really well with the other team mates. Having a certified idiot around really makes them feel a lot better about themselves. Chav drones can be the butt of all the immature jokes, and they won’t even mind, just happily laugh along with it.

This way, let’s watch them all be simultaneously kitted out in their gear. Get closer? Sure. If you stand on the—wait! Watch out for the…oh.

Oops.

Sorry to say, but you’re next in line. There’s nothing I can do I’m afraid. Nothing I WANT to do anyway. You’re gonna make a tidy profit. Not to worry, I’ll make sure to process your new chav contract. Olly.

Time to move you forward, chav to-be. We got plenty more subjects to get through today and I want to see those huge ears studded with fake diamonds.

Body and face reshaping engaging in 3…2…1…

Wow, you’re lucky that you were a good fit for the molding machine, usually we have to test for compatibility first. You don’t want to experience what happens to our rejects, not unless you like the idea of being a chav branded sex toy. But no, you’re the spitting image. Dopey as all fuck with that signature look of confusion. An ideal footballer physique, identical to all the other Ollys. Nice fat arse, by the way. I’ll try and remember which one is you but, you know, no promises.

That’s it, stiffen those limp wrists. Be a propa lads lad! You can feel it right, the intense effects of our mind dampening? It’s the strangest thing, to have your personality condensed down to a imperceptible dot as a single sport consumes your whole identity. A foot ball will define you, define everything you’ll ever care about. Shaved permanently into the back of your dense head for all to see ⚽️.

See the image of a football get bigger and bigger in your brain as the rest of you gets smaller and smaller. Let that perfectly spherical shape expand and fill your tiny chav mind to the brim. It’ll be all you can think about, talk about. Your heavily accented voice mumbling and swearing about scores and tactics, repeating the same basic slang over and over again. Everything else is just white noise, a distraction. Maturity is something you can leave behind, along with that useless education you wasted so many years on. Picture the ball, just waiting there. Feel the NEED to kick it. That feeling as your feet connect, it’s the only high you’ll chase. It hitting the back of the net. The thrill. The…pleasure. Football. Foot. Ball. I can see the words light up your eyes already. Your cock chubbing, balls sagging. Let’s hurry this up so we can have you milked dry and join the rest of the Olly models on the training pitch.

“I…yea—yuh! Footie, amrite lads. Like mate, I’ll give it a punt.”

I’m sure you will, my intellectually challenged friend. The conversion will be finished before you know it. By this time tomorrow you’ll be grinning like a complete dipshit while whiffing your stinky cleats after a successful footy match. Won’t you Olly?

“Uhhhhhhh…fucking ayy. Blud, me feet reek.”

_________

Want more chav drone transformations? Here:

Power incarnate

Be careful staring at spirals for too long. They have a way to get deep into your head and start transforming you. Before you know it, you won’t be able to think of anything else. You will just need to obey the spiral and do as it commands.

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."

A Ride to Remember

I had known Liam since high school, he was one of the smartest in our grade, but he barely talked to anyone. I considered him a friend, and would work with him whenever I could. Knowing this I should probably introduce myself, my name is Adama Traore, son of two loving immigrant parents, and luckily, very gay. Later during freshman year, I got a boyfriend, I still remember him fondly as my first kiss, and my first heartbreak. When we broke up junior year, I went into a complete spiral, going to gay bars and hooking up with any guy I could find, neglecting my whole life because of a breakup. I barely spoke to Liam that year, I had heard he got a girlfriend in sophomore year, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. When college applications came around I applied to everywhere I could, just to see who would let me in. I knew that Liam was dead-set on going to Pell College, one of the most selective schools in the country. I applied to Pell too, and when decisions came out, I checked it last. It felt like slow motion when I saw in big letters:

ADAMA TRAORE,

WELCOME TO PELL NATION

I was officially a Dire Wolf (the Pell mascot, it’s lame, I know). I saw on the big board in the front office all the other major acceptances. Liam had a couple, but one stood out, a big wolf paw with his name in it, he got in too. I wasn’t shocked, but this most certainly meant we were going to the same college. While this would be the start to a great conversation, it simply never happened, we had just grown too distant.

Senior year came and went with me seeing little of Liam, and now it was summer break. I was college prepping and my mom was sobbing as she took me shopping for essentials each and every day. One day, I went onto our schools acceptance page on Instagram, and the latest post had a familiar person, at least, a familiar name.

@lgporter876 Hey guys, my name is Liam Porter and I am going to be a freshman at Pell in 2023, i wanna get to know ppl so leave ur snaps in the comments.

He was completely different. The shy sweet guy that I knew from high school had changed entirely. I didnt care though, he was doing his own thing and I was doing mine. I posted a few days after him, and I become flooded with dm’s of sorority girls asking me to be their gay best friend, truly something out of a nightmare if you ask me.

The day before classes, all of my things were moved into my dorm and I met my roommates. Kyle was your average nerd, he had brown curly hair and freckles, and wore glasses with wide rims. Next was Jamie, he was quiet, but stood at 6’2 and was here on a basketball scholarship. I immediately started chatting him up, and tried to see if he could be a potential fling. Finally was Eric. Eric was lanky but wasn’t entirely introverted like Kyle, hanging out with people and even becoming a good friend of mine on campus.

One of the buses drop off a load of students to the dorms, and a familiar face comes out of it with bags in hand:

My mom had barely seen Liam since freshman year, and never caught on that it was him, but I most definitely did. He walks to one of the dorms further down from mine, “There goes my chance to chat with him in the hallways.” I think to myself. I was a Literature major, and from what I knew Liam wanted to study Mechanical Engineering, so there was little chance we would ever see each other in the same class.

I go to my first class of the day: “History of Pre-Columbian Writing and Forms” taught by a frazzled professor who looks no younger than 76 named Dr. Fredericks. He was an awesome teacher, and I actually paid attention in class. Afterward I head to my Civics and Common Law class, it was rather empty, except for Liam. He was sitting in the 5th row, and as I open the door he glances back and meets my eye. I sit in the 7th row, open my computer, and start snooping. Lo and behold, this very class was an optional GenEd for Mechanical Engineering, and Liam chose it. I quickly leave class, and rush to my dorm.

A few weeks pass and my minifridge is empty. After eating the dining hall food for practically a month straight I was tired, so I drove to the gas station near our school to get some snacks and microwave meals. In the far back of the gas station I spot a group of frat bros, from the letters I could make out they were in Delta Zeta Kappa, known as one of the most toxic on campus. Laughing right with them is no other than Liam himself.

“You should’ve fucked her!” one of the bros near him says before patting Liam’s back. I try to quickly pick my stuff up and leave, but one of the other brothers whistles at me. It was Tyler Felton, a guy who I drunkenly hooked up with at one of his frat’s parties. Tyler calls me over and introduces me to each of the other brothers, and they start chuckling and jabbing Tyler in the arm, clearly he’s already talked about me to them. When I shake hands with Liam, it’s bare sly even a touch before he already has his hands pulled away.

Leaving the gas station was rather embarrassing, simply because I could imagine what they would talk about once I left. But Liam, he confused me. I didn’t think we were on bad terms, but by that handshake it seems we were.

I go back to my room and go straight to his instagram to figure out what’s going on. He still follows me, and it’s clear he unfollowed people from high school, so if he hated me why in the world did he still follow me?

I look at his recent posts and my eye catches to one of them:

He had clearly been going to the gym, and even though he might be a jerk now, he’s fucking HOT. I pull down my pants and start masturbating, thinking about feeling those muscles of his and fantasizing about how big his cock must be. I close my eyes and start imagining it, and the thought of it makes me end up getting cum all over my phone, and I immediately start wiping it away with tissues, feeling ashamed that I just came to a picture of a guy who is most definitely straight. After my little session on his insta, I study for my pre-calculus exam, and slowly drift to sleep over my notes. My alarm jolts me awake, as drool is all over my notes from my sudden study sesh coma. I rustle them together into my backpack and head to class for the day. Liam is there (as always) and we don’t speak at all during or after class (as always). As we’re packing up Dr. Stevens, the professor for the Civics course, announces we have a group project, but he’s already picked the partners.

As he rattles off last name pairings, I have yet to hear mine or Liam’s, until-“Mr. Traore, Mr. Porter, you two will be paired for this assignment.” My heart sinks to the very bottom of my chest. The guy who I now have nothing in common with, paired up for a 3-week assignment, nothing could be worse. “I can just handle it and you can get credit.” Liam says as he passes by me to leave class. Before he could fully pass, I grab his arm. He jerks back and stares at me. I glare back, “I will do my part too, I don’t know about you, but I care about this work.” Liam keeps my gaze and smirks. He easily releases his arm from my grasp, and walks away.

I don’t hear from him for a while, but he gets to work on our shared document, as do I. I suddenly get a DM on insta, while I expected it to be Liam, it was Tyler, sending me a flyer to his frat’s Halloween party. While Liam was most definitely going to be there, I just wanted a chance to dress all skimpy, so I accepted the invite.

After getting my sluttiest Daphne costume, i head down with Tyler, who decided to pick me up, and match with me as Fred (against my will mind you). My car had broken down, and I was simply far too broke to get it fixed now. We get to the party and it’s already insane, people are outside, beer pong tables set up everywhere, and girls grinding on all the brothers on the dance floor. I see nothing of Liam, but decide that’s a good thing.

The party goes much as I would have expected, with Tyler finding every way to stay near me, and me trying my very best to escape him when I can. I catch a glance of Liam while I walk for my 9th bathroom break to get away from Tyler. As I walk out, he’s near the door, and pushes me back in. “I want us to talk again.” he says, and before I can even get a word out, he leaves, never to be seen again.

Two days later I get a snap notification from none other than the man himself:

Using a shirtless gym selfie to get back into my good graces is a bold choice, considering i’m “talking to” one of his frat brothers, but I assume it’s all platonic, and send a photo of me studying for my literature exam in my bed back. After snapping back and forth for a few days I assume that will be all there is, and accepted that at least he was talking to me about our project. After checking the project the day before it’s due I see an announcement.

YOU ARE TO USE POSTER BOARD TO PRESENT KEY POINTS, POWERPOINT AND OTHER DIGITAL PROGRAMS WILL NOT BE USEABLE AS THE PROJECTOR IS DEAD.

Dr. Stevens was giving us an extension to find the stuff we needed, and I quickly text Liam to go pick up some poster board as my car is still very much broken. He chats back “come with me.” Confusion swept my face as getting poster board definitely wasn’t a two person job, but he quickly chatted again, “we can work on it together at my place.” Seeing this as a chance to actually reconnect, I say yes, and he comes to pick me up.

I start taking hits of my dab pen in the car, knowing that high me would actually be able to get some work done. As we pull into a residential area, he stops and pulls to the sidewalk. I ask him, “Why in god’s name did you stop here??? The store isn’t for a few more miles.” “I have been waiting for this my whole life.” he replies. Thinking i’m about to get axe murdered by my old friend I try to get out, but the doors are locked. He then says, “I never knew how I felt about you until I saw you with that fucker Tyler, the dude doesn’t deserve a pet rock, much less you.” The sudden romantic shift of his words gives me whiplash, but at least he’s not trying to kill me? As he says this, he puts a hand on my thigh. Even though I had ended my villain era, a little hookup between old friends was just what the doctor ordered.

I get in the base of the seat under him and pull his pants down very slowly. His hard dick pops up out of his underwear, and he glances down at me as I start to suck. He groans loudly and grabs the handle at the top, looking at me straight in the eyes the whole time.

As I continue doing down on him, he says, “I knew this would be the best.” If the rumors were true, he had fucked nearly half the freshman girls, and somehow i’m the best? I smile and keep going until he stops me. With his massive arms he pulls my head up and says, “It’s not over yet.” He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing that hard body and, as he starts the car he says, “Keep sucking.”

On the road in the rain, I keep looking up at this old friend of mine, wondering if i had missed a signal, and as I keep going, he starts to push my head down on his massive cock, and then let’s put a loan moan, as he cums all in my mouth. I swallow it down and look up at him, still listening to his music and focusing on the road.

While still below him, we come to a stop. He unbuckles and gets out, only in his boxers. I shimmy up and stumble out, clearly not at a Walmart or any place we could get poster for that matter. “It’s my cousins place, he’s not home so he lets me stay.” Liam says as if reading my mind. It’s clear what he wants, and I get ready for it.

After getting in he immediately starts kissing me, Unbuttoning my shirt, and pulling down my pants until i’m much like him, only far less muscly and way shorter. He pins me against the wall and starts kissing my nipples, saying, “Do you like that?” as he goes on and on. Eventually he takes me upstairs, and as I do I see him pull his boxers down. He tells me, “Get on the bed.” and I comply.

As i’m under him on the bed, he starts shoving his dick in my ass, pounding and pounding my tight ass and grunting all while doing it. He flexes his muscles in a mirror right next to the bed, which is the only way i can even notice what he’s doing as he’s giving me the best backshots of my life. He tells me to get up and wrap my legs around his, with his cock still in me i maneuver around and do it, and he asks, “Is that better?” After nodding he says, “Good boy.” and I look down, completely falling for him. As he pounds me again, I feel up and down his hard body, and he keeps fucking me ruthlessly.

After pounding my ass until it goes from a dark brown to a purplish tinge, Liam says, “I’ve had a crush on you since forever, but I never knew what to say, and by the time I could you had a boyfriend. I was always looking for a chance but I thought it would never happen, so I worked to be the guy you would want, and I just hope I fucking am.” How had I been so naïve??? He wanted to be with me since freshman year and I was the one to friendzone him. Letting this words sit with me for a while I caress his face and say, “You have always been the guy I wanted, I was just too blind to see.”

He smirks and starts fucking like never before, he takes my hips and moves it towards and away from his cock, grunting each time his cock goes all the way in me. In this moment I don’t see anything else but him, and as he cums in me I pull his body towards me, pulling him into me, and embracing him as our warm sweaty bodies touch. After that we end up continuing for five more rounds, each getting more and more passionate. After that whenever we would see each other after class,we would go into the supply closet and fuck again. I felt like a ball of hormones but it felt good with him.

Finally at present day, with us having been dating for three years, it seems like all of this could’ve been missed if anything had gone wrong. Every moment with him is truly memorable, and even though I never would’ve saw myself with the quiet nerd turned frat guy, I guess that’s what happened. I thank the universe each and every day for that fateful car ride, and as i get ready to graduate, I start thinking that Porter sounds like a perfect last name for me.

Brock Purdy

Todd opened his eyes, only to see a gym full of sweaty hunks, instead of the dorm room in which he felt asleep, planning for this to be just a quick nap. He underestimated the chances of waking up in a body of a 6'4 240 lbs brute, with biceps the size of footballs, tree trunks for legs and absolutely jacked upper body.

He didn't have time to panic though, because another sweaty jock came up to him. "'ey bro, am finished with my set for now. You too bro?" Todd would later learn that it was TJ, a tight end from his college's football team. But now he was scrambling to come up with a response.

"Uhm, yes... uhh, yeah, I'm finished, yeah." He half-murmured. TJ didin't wait for a response and sat down next to him on the bench, leaning back and spreading his legs wide apart.

"Bruh, I'm so fuckin' pumped bro, it's unreal dude. That new routine Coach gave us is fuckin' rad bro." TJ then proceeded to flex both his arms, hplding them in a double bicep pose for a moment. Todd just nodded and grunted a quick "Yeah, bro." After a few seconds Tj lowered his arms, but not before sniffing one of his armpits.

"Huhuhuh shit bro, i fuckin' reek dude." He then let out a low laugh, so common in dumb football bros. Todd turned to the jock sitting next to him and the smell of musk and sweat hit him like a train, invading his nostrils. The words "Dude, you need a shower" instintively left his mouth. A moment later he realized what he had just said, and hoped the other jock wouldn't react badly.

"Huhuhuh" TJ just chuckled like an idiot "That's the smell of a real man, Strand."

Strand just... no, Todd just sat there, almost paralyzed by the odor that enveloped him. TJ meanwhile stretched his arms, his armpits exposed, and his muscle tee damp. As waves of musk and sweat reached Todd, his head began to hurt. The feelings of repulsion and disgust suddenly started changing into normalcy and relaxation. StrandTodd's posture changed, he leaned back on the bench, with his legs now slightly away form each other.

"Bruh, that's life, am I right dawg?" TJ drawled and a grin appeared on StrandTodd's face. He chuckled and responded "Yeah, bro, that's life bro." When Todd realized that he had just said that, and worse, that he felt comfortable, here with TJ, both of their bodies reeking of sweat, dread... was the opposite of what Strand felt as he relaxed with his bro after a killer session in the gym. His arms were pumped, his pecs burned with pain that was a testament to his dedication to working out.

TJ looked at his bro and grinned. "Ey, Strand bro, you goin' to that beer fest at Alpha Phi?" His bro slapped TJ in the back and said "Huhuhuh bruh, the fuck you're asking me bro. Duh, I'm going. And am taking ya with me dude." The both laughed like the two dumb jocks they were, then took their duffels and left the gym.