Jockbroski34 - Untitled

The new kid

(Requested by fuckinhornyg)

“Give me your fucking lunch money” said Jason

“Ok here, here you go…” Said Scott

“Thanks nerd”

“Please let me go… now please”

“There you go, now fuck off”  

Scott ran off teary eyed. Jason walked off with his bro’s Mike and Liam. All three of them where high school bully jocks. Big football boys, nicely styled hair all though you didn’t see that much due to them wearing backward caps. They stood pridefully above the rest of the kids in their shadow. They went over to their lockers and chatted.  

“What we doing today bros” said Jason

“Well I got fucking Science shit this morning, but its ok as I got some fucking nerd to do all the work, after that I got a whole afternoon and evening with Coach” said Mike

“That’s fucking ace bro” replied Liam

“I got similar except I’m leaving practice early, I’m going to go break up with Haley later” Said Liam

“Why?”

“She’s a hoe”

“Yeah just do it by text then bro, then you can still play”

“Good idea”

“What about you Jason?”

“I got free session this morning then I got the afternoon with…” Jason stopped abruptly

Out of the corner of his eye 3 new guys walked in down the corridor. They were all quite nerdy but they had some height to them. They seemed quiet and shy.  

“Ah the new kids bro” said Liam also looking at them

“They came here apparently because they got bullied a lot, they chose to do math’s and science shit so maybe we can use em” said Mike

Jason continued to look at them, mostly the one in the middle. Something about him kept him intrigued.  

“Jason bro” Liam said bringing back Jason

“Soz bro, I think our new friends are gonna need to be shown who’s boss”

“Okay see you later bro”  

Jason followed them to math’s class. Jason didn’t get math’s but he had some nerd in class who did all the shit for him. Jason sat down in his spot.

“Hey… man I gave you your money and I’m doing your math’s for you. Do you need to be here in class to do stuff?” said Scott fearfully

“Don’t worry I’m not here for you”

Scott had a feeling of relief hit him all over.  

“Ok Class we have some new guys into day. This Tyler, Zack and Connor”

Jason looked at them intently. They were all pretty similar, spotty faces, underdeveloped muscles, poor hair styles and no style in clothing. Only thing that split them apart was their hair color. Tyler had a nice light brown, Zach had blonde hair and Connor was dark brown/black. Yet despite all this something about Tyler intrigued Jason. During class time Jason looked over at Tyler. For some reason Jason felt good looking at him, he started thinking how cool it would be if he was a jock as well. Tyler wasn’t as nerdy as Jason had thought, he kept answering questions wrong. Every time he failed a question Jason felt a good feeling build up inside him. Jason then realized Tyler isn’t a nerd, and he isn’t a jock. He doesn’t fit in anywhere.  

Jason followed and watched Tyler for a whole week. He watched as he failed at classes, got bullied by nerds and other students, however Jason commanded his fellow bros to leave him. When Coach asked Tyler to do tryouts for football, Liam and Mike did what they could to help him. Jason watched as Scott and other nerds tried to pull him and his friends into nerd life. Jason knew now that they would have to fail, because Jason didn’t want them to be nerds, he wanted them to become jocks like him.

——————————-  

The bell rang and Jason followed Tyler out the class room.  

“Hey Tyler” said Jason awkwardly

Tyler turned around and saw the hulking jock. He began to be scared thinking he would bully him.

“Oh hi” he said quietly

“I was wondering if you wanted to come and try out for football”

Tyler was now confused but he went along with Jason out of fear

“Ok sure” he said slowly

“Great bro, wanna come with me now to the locker room.”

“I have math’s next”

“Won’t matter if you fail another load of questions will it”

“I suppose not” Tyler felt sad at that, which upset Jason

“I’m sure you will be great at football”

The two walked down the corridor to the changing room which they entered. Tyler sat down and got undressed until he was only in underwear.  

“umm I don’t have any uniform or shoes”

“nah don’t worry you can have my stuff” Said Jason as he took off his clothes. He threw his jock strap at Tyler’s feet

“Well put it on bro” he said with a grin on his face    

Out of fear Tyler hesitantly took off his underwear in full view of Jason, he put on the jockstrap which felt weird. A desire to stay put and not move fell over him. Jason got up and took off his shoes.  

“Oh god what’s this odd feeling, Like I don’t want to get up”  

“yeah don’t worry about that bro, just breathe in” Jason held his shoe up and then quickly put it over Tyler’s mouth. Tyler tried to hold his breathe, but he failed and breathed in Jason’s Ranke musk from his shoe. As he did, he began to get light headed. His dick started getting hard and he began enjoying the musk. He put his hands over the shoe and Jason let go. Tyler looked down his vision blurry but he could see his feet growing, becoming bigger and slightly hairier. His legs began getting longer and thicker. He felt himself growing taller. His dick getting harder. He took one hand off the shoe to grab it but before he could Jason put it back on the shoe.

“Don’t worry about this bro, you focus on breathing in” Jason said before putting Tyler’s now 10-inch dick in his mouth.  

Jason looked up at Tyler who was in bliss, holding a shoe to his face and breathing in all the musky goodness. Tyler’s thin belly grew out become buff and strong, a 6-pack started forming and then further up two massive pecs exploded out dominating his upper chest. His arms lengthened out and thickened. His hands grew over the shoe becoming big. His face started becoming smoother and more defined. the spots all melted away back into his clean face. His hair became shorter and spikier. Tyler now had a jock bod and Jason was extremely proud but for him to truly fit in he needed to become a jock mentally.  

Tyler felt his head get lighter as memories and knowledge were all drained out and forced into his dick. They were replaced by memories of being a jock and star football player. He had average grades throughout his school life and needed to bully nerds to get it higher. He was also overly horny and fucked his bro Jason a lot. Once all his brains and memories went into his dick, it exploded all in Jason’s mouth. Jason took his mouth away and stood up. He looked over his new studly creation with pride.

“How do you feel bro”

“So good bro, Like I need to fuck, and also make more bro’s”

“Yeah bro that’s how I feel every day. The desire to turn even the most pathetic nerds into the best jocks is great. I can solve your horniness now though, bro" Jason stepped to Tyler and began making out with him. Their buff bodies rubbing together caused them to feel pleasure. They began to start fucking there and then. Once they finished and got dressed, they began making out again, however Zach and Connor walked in. They didn’t see the jocks at first, but when they turned, they saw them making out.

“Oh god Tyler what happened to you” Said Connor

“What did you do to our friend” Said Zach Angrily

“I made him more… more like me. But don’t worry bro’s there’s plenty for all” Said Jason in a cocky tone, an evil grin came over his face. Zach and Connor were shocked and confused at hearing this, but before they tried to go Tyler and Jason pounced on them throwing them to the floor and forcing the shoes over their mouth’s, beginning their jockification process. Zach and Connor breathed in the musky smell and began to feel the pleasure Tyler felt moments ago. Again, their bodies grew becoming taller, leaner and bigger. Abs started showing and becoming visible, two pecs exploded out dominating their upper body. Their faces changed becoming sharper, spots melted away, their hair shortened into jock cuts. Their pleasure was immense. Tyler and Jason knew that they didn’t need to continue holding the shoes over them. They let go and Zach and Connor held them tightly to their faces while they changed mentally. Their desire to be nerdy and top of every class but sports faded, instead they desired the perfect bods, to be the best at football, to turn nerds into jocks and to fuck all the hot babes. They began visualizing all the hot babes and boobs they could think of but they started having images flash in their heads. They didn’t know at first but they were images of hot dudes and each other. They started thinking about how hot guys were, big dicks and each other, eventually forgetting women completely.  As Zach and Connor put their hands on their dicks, Jason knew they would become perfect dumb jocks. Eventually Zach and Connor’s dicks erupted and they got up looking over their new jock bods. Their eyes found each other’s and they fucked. Eventually once they stopped changing, they got up and greeted each other with ‘bro’. Tyler and Jason fucked each other and Zach and Connor fucked each other before they all fucked together. Once done they discussed working out and football. They then got dressed for football.

However, while their transformations happened, they were secretly being eavesdropped by Scott who was currently cowering in the shower.  Once he thought it was ok to go, he quickly made a run for it keeping his head down. But as he made his fourth step, he bumped into something. He looked up and there was Jason looking down at him.  

“Where do you think you’re going bro?”

“there’s been a mistake I shouldn’t be here. I was just looking for something to help do your homework”

“Oh, don’t worry I will get someone else to do that, for now I need to satisfy my urge”

“What urge is that?”

“The urge to turn you into a jock”

“No please I don’t want to be a jock, I like my intelligence. Please don’t take that from me… I beg you don’t.”

“It’s so great when you do” Said Tyler coming from the side

“yeah, join us Scott” Said Zach and Connor. Slowly cornering Scott back into the shower.

“Join us, bro” They all said in unison, repeating over and over until Scotts back touched the wall. Then he looked behind him frightened and looked back Jason.

“Please I don’t want to be gay as well”

“Why bro? What’s wrong with that? I think it’s time you got used to being a jock”

Jason leapt at Scott shoving the shoe over his mouth. Again, Scott turned bit by bit into a jock. His body buffed up. Slowly turning into a perfect jock bod. Then he began rubbing his dick, with each rub more of his knowledge and heterosexuality was forced into his balls. When it exploded, a dumb grin came over him and he was forever now a dumb gay jock.

The boys left for a life of bullying nerds, football and fucking. Jason and Tyler were boyfriends but let others in on threesomes. Life was better for them.

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.

The Self Made Desire

Evan entered the gym not knowing what to expect. His friend had said he finally found the perfect muscle growing method. Evan didn’t really believe him. For the last three months Tanner had been dismissing him for even going to the gym, and now he had something to help him grow? Evan was skeptical to say the least. He was just happy that his friend might have started to become interested in living a healthier lifestyle.

“So whatcha got?” Evan shouted across the school gym. It was technically off hours but Tanner had an ability to get into almost anywhere whenever he wanted. At first Evan questioned it but now it was almost silly to even think about it. If Tanner said he was going to go somewhere at some time, just be there because he’ll already be inside.

Tanner smiled as he put away his phone. “This,” he held up a little device shaped like a gun, “is what’s going to help you get as big as you want to be.” Evan stared at the gun shaped object. Obviously it didn’t shoot bullets but it looked like it was supposed to shoot something. There was a trigger near a handle, except there were extra little rods and coils sticking out the sides that didn’t look too functional.

“Uh-huh?” Evan nodded. He tried not to laugh but was a bit curious as to what this thing actually was. “And where’d you get it?”

Tanner reached for his phone for a second but stopped himself. “Let’s just say magic,” he smiled. It was a generic dumb excuse but Evan knew not to push it.

“And how does it work?”

The smile on Tanner’s face just broadened. “It’s real simple! All you have to do is imagine what you want to be while I point and shoot this at you and you’re body will start to change.” His hands waved up and down excitedly as he told Evan what was going on.

“Uh-huh…” Evan tried to hide his skepticism but a smile creeped out.

“You don’t believe me…” Tanner said a bit defeated.

“Not really…” Evan realized what he said was a little rude. “But if you want to try it we can.”

“Really?!” Tanner’s enthusiasm returned. “Alright! Stand right there. Now all you have to do is imagine what you want to look like.”

“Alright…” Evan said. It’d been a few months since he started working out but everyday he’d go through bodybuilder’s online profiles trying to get some inspiration. He’d love looking at their expansive posts of working out, flexing, eating and having girls dangle around their arms. However Evan always pictured himself as one of those girls. Being right up next to their large muscular bodies and feeling their strong arms.

Evan accidentally let out a bit of a moan thinking about it. He hadn’t noticed that Tanner had pulled the trigger. Evan’s personal fantasy had already started and with the device being pointed at him whatever Evan was thinking about would become true. His fantasy started to shift to a more dominate personality. Why should he just be the one holding onto a bodybuilder’s bicep? Or be the one fawning over someone bigger than him? Why couldn’t he be the one ogled at? When he walks down the street people cock their heads back to get a second look. He’d be big. His shoulders broad and chest pushed out. Shirt would be a little uncomfortable unless specially tailored but that would be fair. To look so big, there had to be a price.

He thought more about what those guys had in common. His head fell back as the thoughts filled his mind. He’d be big. His arms started to press up against the sleeves of his shirt, while it rode up his torso from his expanding shoulders. The fabric stretched tightly against his broadening chest while also tightening around each ab. It was at least three sizes too small while his shorts had rode up well past his knees. His feet were far too big for his shoes and even his dick started to poke it’s head out. “Big…” he moaned.

The clothes he was wearing didn’t fit right. He’d seen enough of those guys to know he’d have to wear something far different. A backwards hat, a sleeveless shirt, and tight compression pants that rolled over his thighs and wrapped around his calfs. ‘Screw the sleeveless shirt,’ Evan chuckled to himself. He’d be hot enough that wearing it would be more of a crime than not wearing it. His hat turned around and a puff of hair stuck out the front. “Stylish…” he moaned.

But he’d have to have a laid back attitude. Relaxed, yet in control. People would look up to him literally and figuratively. Just his presence could make people at ease. He cocked his head back and thought about how he’d need to be good at sports. Nearly all of them he could play but he’d excel at rugby and baseball. Those weren’t really similar but he’d want a huge body that had great hand eye coordination. He could throw a beer across the room or throw someone over his shoulder if he needed them in another room. “Strong…”

But guys would be all over him. Even if they were straight. Didn’t fucking matter. They would see him in the room and forget just about everything else. He would ooze masculinity and guys would be attracted to him. They’d deny it, fight off that feeling but get them alone and then they’d explore all sorts of parts of them they’d never thought of before. He’d just give them a nod and they knew what it meant. “Sexy…”

Tanner looked at Evan’s new body. He stood a good 6’4” with a densely packed 240 muscular frame. Tanner’s mouth opened wide as he realized what had just happened. His friend had nearly doubled in size. “Woah!” Tanner said excitedly. “This is amazing!”

“Sure is,” there was a coolness in Evan’s voice he moved closer to Tanner’s smaller body and locked him between him and the weight. The confident tone sent a shiver down Tanner’s spine. “But now do you want to test it out?” Evan’s dick was pushing hard against the compression fabric of his pants. The thing went half way down his leg and looked thicker than a beer can.

Tanner blushed. His own dick got hard at the sensation. “Bu-but I’m not gay,” he tried to deny the feeling he was having. But the more Evan’s strong hands rolled over his soft body the harder he got. He couldn’t believe how sexy the man holding him down was. He sputtered again trying to rationalize why he was feeling the way he did. His ass tingled, wanting something to fill it. He bit his bottom lip and couldn’t stop grinding against the muscular man holding him down. “But I’m not unwilling…” a smirk started to cross his face as he said it.

“HEY!” one of the coach’s shouted from the door of the school gym. “Gym’s closed!” He stepped in and looked at Evan on top of Tanner. He took another step in as Evan stood up and cocked his head back confidently. “Sup,” the coach replied. He was supposed to be telling them to get out of there but something was distracting him. A thought entered his mind that he’d never thought before. He tried to force it down but he found himself moving deeper into the gym.

Mandatory PE Class

Markus walked through the university campus, his face clearly showing his annoyance at the situation he was going through. His school decided to "promote physical activity among the student body", and by "promote" they meant a mandatory Physical Education class every junior had to go through. And Marcus was not happy about it.

Marcus was an introvert - he didn't particularly enjoy parties, going to bars, or other typical college activities. He spent his time reading, researching and weightlifting. This might seem weird for a "nerd", but whenever Marcus put on his noise-canceling headphones and grabbed the bar with 100 or so pounds on it, he felt like he could finally relax.

But even though Marcus enjoyed going to the gym, he enjoyed it when he was there alone - no one with him, the amount of people in the gym at a minimum. These were the perfect conditions for him. This class would not be it. He would have to deal with God knows how many people, plus most likely some smart ass coach, who thinks he's the next Arnold Schwarzenegger.

The university gave him a choice of what he wanted to do during the class and Marcus chose weight training, hoping he would be left alone and allowed to just follow his usual routine without any interruptions.

Marcus arrived at the athletics department's building and after wandering through its corridors he found his way to Weight Room C09. He knocked and heard a booming voice invite him inside. He opened the door and walked into a smallish locker room, where a few guys were getting ready and another man, clearly older than the others, stood on the side and waited. That was probably the coach.

"Marcus, right?" the supposed coach walked up to Marcus. "I'm Assistant Coach Baker and I'll be leading your group this semester." He extended his hand and Marcus shook it reluctantly. He quickly turned around and began changing into his gym gear.

Once everyone was ready (and there weren't many people in Marcus' group - only 6 guys) the group led by Coach Baker moved to the weight room proper. Marcus wanted to walk up to Baker and ask him if he could just do his own routine, but before he had mustered up the courage to do this Baker began warming up and expected the rest to do the same. Marcus rolled his eyes and sighed, before joining the group.

The next hour passed slowly. Baker had the group do a fairly quick and lite set of exercises, lite for Marcus at least. After the class had ended everyone was getting out of their sweaty shirts in the locker room. Marcus put his gear in his backpack and as the rest of the students began leaving the room, he walked up to Coach Baker.

"Sir, could I make a certain request?" He asked, a bit shy.

"Oh, Marcus, yeah? I also wanna talk with you about something. But go on." He wanted to talk with Marcus about something? That didn't sound great. He stood silent for a moment.

"So..." Baker looked at Marcus, his eyebrow raised.

"Oh yeah. So... I was wondering... I, I go to the gym quite often, and have for a few years now... and so I thought... Would it be a problem if during these PE classes I... I just followed my usual routine and you, you just did what you have planned with the rest?"

Coach smiled as he listened. Marcus wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing.

"Well, Marcus, I'm glad you see the importance of exercise. But I don't want no divisions in my group, you understand. I want to work with all of you, show something to everyone. Although, because you asked, I'll be sure to adjust the exercises for your level." Marcus nodded, although he wasn't really happy with Baker's response. "And while we're talking, I wanted to ask you something - would you be interested in trying out for our football team?"

This took Marcus by surprise. The football team? Where did that idea come from? He was not about to join a group of brain dead jocks.

"What?" he simply asked, confused.

"Well, I have noticed your strength during our hour together. And I think you would do great on the gridiron." Baker put his hand on Marcus' shoulder. Marcus did not like that.

"Wel, uhm... thank you for the proposition, but... no, I'm, I don't think I would fit in."

"Are you sure? I could help you fit in just right." Baker grinned again.

"Yeah... I'm sure... Mr. Baker" Marcus stood there and avoided eye contact with the older man.

"Call me Coach" Baker laughed. "If you're sure... well, I ain't gonna force ya. Now go, I'll see you next week."

As Marcus left the building he sighed. This was going to be an exhausting semester.

Reality turned out weirder than he expected.

As the months progressed Marcus attended every PE class, his annoyance with Baker's refusal to just let him do what he wanted not strong enough to risk messing with his attendance. Baker meanwhile stuck to his word, and for the most part Marcus was doing what the rest of the group was doing.

Although... this wasn't the whole truth. Because even though Marcus wasn't allowed to do his own thing, while doing the exercises Baker would come up to him and ask him to change something about the movements, add more weight, do another variant of the exercise. So even though he was working with the group, he did get the chance to do way more challenging things.

Baker himself was weirdly invested, at least that's how it seemed to Marcus. He very much got into that role of the supportive coach, he stood next to Marcus, counted his reps, motivated him to "just push further". Marcus found that strange, but didn't want to get into any kind of argument with the coach, so he just went along with this.

As the semester came to an end Marcus also had to admit he got something out of these classes. The exercises Baker had him do were pushing his limits, and he did adjust his normal gym routine to include stuff he learnt from him As he looked in the mirror, standing in his room on the day of the last class before the end of the semester he had to admit he was bigger than 5 months prior.

The last class came and went pretty uneventfully. Marcus beat his PB on the bench by 10 pounds and after an hour he came back to the locker room sweaty and gross. Baker thanked all the guys for coming, asked them to continue going to the gym and said goodbye.

As Marcus got ready to leave the locker room Baker looked at him and said "See you at practice, 90" and went back to the weight room. Marcus had no idea what that meant, but the class was over so he just shrugged and left.

Marcus entered his dorm room and sat behind his desk. He had some work to do on a paper he wanted to submit next week. He opened his laptop and quickly got to work. After a while he needed something to drink so he stood up and walked up to his mini fridge. There he noticed a mug standing on top of it. It was a cup branded with the logo of the Lions, his university's football team.

This was weird, as Marcus did not recall ever getting any merchandise like that. Maybe someone left it here by mistake, Marcus didn't know. But it seemed it was the only clean mug he had, so he quickly poured soda into it and went back to his laptop.

He got into the flow of writing and research pretty quickly. Then, around half an hour later, he was surprised by a notification from some group chat. 10 unread messages from "jungle kingssss 💪". What the hell was that? Marcus was sure he never joined such a conversation. Maybe it was some new kind of scam.

The notifications just kept coming, and at one point instead of deleting it Marcus clicked on it and a chat window appeared.

nah bruh, ya slayed that bitch well dude - steroidss#96

dude concentrate ffs - big dog jake#7

stfu bros where the fuck is tron where ya need him - mike chief#53

hes jerkin of or meal preppin bro, ya know that - steroidss#96

Marcus looked at the chat, even though he had no idea what he was looking at. It seemed he somehow had access to a group chat of some random meatheads. Although the numbers from their nicknames were tickling something at the back of his head, somehow.

if hes jerkin his fat dick ill kick his fat ass, we have state to fuckin beat - big dog jake#7

State? What does it mean they have to beat-- oh yeah, the Lions' next game is against Ohio State.

Wait.

What does that we mean in "we have state to beat"?

How did he know the Lions' schedule?

Marcus felt his head spin a little. Was he sick? He looked at the screen again and suddenly a new message appeared.

am not fuckin jerkin off you piece of shit, got fuckin dumbass school to take care of you idiots - tron's big dick#90

Marcus looked down. His fingers were still touching the keys. HE WROTE THAT!

And that we... It meant the football team! Marcus was reading the football team's group conversation. How the fuck did this happen?!

dunno why i even bother wit any of your stupid fat asses you fuckin shits - tron's big dick#90

Marcus jumped out of the chair. He did it again! His fingers were betraying him. He shut the laptop down and opened the window. Maybe he had to breathe in some fresh air. Was he hallucinating? Was this some infection? What was happening to him?!

He sat on his bed and breathed in, then out. In and out, in and out. In and out. In and out-- was he drooling!? Marcus wiped the drool from his face. It was getting late and he decided it would be beneficial to go to bed early. He turned around to get to his bed only to notice a sweaty hoodie with badly cut-off sleeves. It had the Lions' logo on the front and the number 90 on the back.

This was not happening.

This was just a dream.

Marcus told himself that repeatedly as he got into his PJs. He checked if his laptop was turned off and laid on his bed. He could swear he could feel a faint smell of sweat and... cum? But this didn't stop him from quickly falling asleep.

Marcus was dragged out of sleep by his alarm clock. He slowly got his body into an upright position, then began going through his usual morning routine.

He made himself a protein shake with added creatine.

He ate the oatmeal and eggs he always had for breakfast.

He put on the sweaty shirt from two days ago. It was fine, no one would notice. And he looked hot in it anyways.

He sent a message on the group chat.

you bitches ready to get dominated n pushed into the grass by my fat dick - tron's big dick#90

He got his gear ready and put his duffel bag on his shoulder.

the faggot of the team has spoken everybody - hall/of/glory#38

Marcus walked through the campus. He let out a dumb chuckle as he read the message. Jalen was the best.

not everyone can slay pussy like tron, bitch - tron's big dick#90

He entered the building and walked towards the locker room-- Marcus suddenly stopped and looked around.

Where was he?

He didn't remember waking up.

He didn't remember dressing up.

He didn't remember coming here.

Where was he?

As he tried to understand what the fuck was going on Assistant Coach Baker appeared, walking through the corridor, coming towards him.

"You know why you're here, Marcus?"

"No!" Marcus shouted, surprising himself, but not Baker.

"As I thought. Follow me" the older man waved at him and Marcus instinctively followed his lead. They walked through the football wing of the athletics department until they reached a door. Locker Room L01.

They both entered - Baker first, Marcus second - and Coach pointed to an open locker. Marcus walked up to it and looked inside.

Jersey. Number 90. Schoeder. His name.

Shoulder pads.

Cleats.

Condoms.

Gym gear.

It all reeked of sweat.

So fuckin' musky.

Huhuhuhuh, a proper jock's smell, bro

bro

bruh

WHAT!?

Coach came up to Marcus and looked him in the eyes.

"Do you know why you're here, 90?"

Marcus opened his mouth and tried to answer. But no words came out.

Coach grinned and took a sweaty Under Armour shirt from his locker. He then put the shirt up to his nostrils.

Marcus automatically inhaled and a fog descended over his mind. He took a few more sniffs. So sweaty, so musky. A fuckin' football jock's smell. A stupid grin appeared on his face, drool began flowing from his mouth. Bruh, that was so fuckin' good bro.

"Sick bro..." Tron drawled and put his arms into a double bicep pose. Coach Baker just smiled and took back the shirt before throwing it into the locker.

"Now, 90, put on the gear. I've trained a new defensive end for 5 months. Let's see it it was worth the hassle." He patted Tron on the back before barking at him. "Main field in 2 minutes or you won't be able to walk for a week, 90!"

"Huhuhuhuh" Tron responded with a dumb chuckle. "Yeah, Coach. No worries, dude."

He then quickly got ready and ran out onto the field.

whos ready for a fuckin beatin - tron's big dick#90

I watched from the kitchen door, with a wide grin on my face, as my previously combative, nerdy Stepson watched his laptop, eyes glazed, for the umpteenth time these last 6 months. Nobody would ever remember tiny, snarky little Theodore. They’d only ever see Theo, this bulky, sweaty brute, lifting and fucking his way through college, just like any red-blooded young man should. And it was all thanks to my buddy Sarge’s “attitude adjusting” self help videos, he custom designs for a slew of shady clientele after he retired. Mostly foreign governments, some loony cults here and there. But for me, he’d done a personal favor. I filled out a details chart, every last trait, from his voice to his hair, posture, everything. I thought about everything he’d said about “those sweating, grunting behemoths” that all got into school with free-ride scholarships for athletics. Theo was going to helplessly, desperately, insatiably grow, eating and grunting his way to 215, the weight I’d maintained all through college. He’d also dress, walk, and talk like the testosterone (and a slew of supplements Sarge gave me with the videos) filled cocky young male you see frequenting college courtyards, throwing footballs between bros and chasing pretty sorority girls like lovesick puppies. Their dumb, dopey demeanor would seen pour from Theo’s mouth, his shoulders back, pecs out casually. He’d grope and adjust himself, sitting down with his legs wide no matter where he is. His diet would change, adding raw calories and protein, chuckling dumbly with the other gym rats as he gulps down creatine powder, dry, and chugs a shake to wash it down. The supplements Sarge gave me to add to his meals, ensured he’d bulk up fast, and solid. As long as I fed him enough, which I was warned would triple our groceries, at least, He’d gain the weight, and the thickness I was looking for, while his body would be thrust through a second puberty, allowing for the subliminals to work on other, aspects, of his masculinity. Let’s just say, we all know what they say about dudes with big feet. And his will be a hefty size 14. Too bad for his mother, our house is also going to reek like a Varsity locker room, because those feet, and the rest of him, will be all raw male, all the time. Pumped and ready, brimming with energy, like a Golden Retriever, if it were a 6’2” behemoth. The toughest bit was straightening him out. Giving him that good old fashioned, hot-blooded straight male instinct, making him drool over the coeds and cheerleaders, chasing girls like every young man should. The videos worked their magic well, the supplements setting his balls ablaze, churning out testosterone to fuel his primal need for aggression, for hard work, and effort, and sweat and sex. He fought it until his best friend Jenna, without realizing what her playful teasing was doing to him, had been on the couch with him, and had leaned over, and nibbled his ear one night while watching a movie. He'd lost his gold star that night. Quickly, and with all the confusion and passion that comes with young love and first times. Jenna had been stunned when he’d practically pounced on her, and from there, hours passed, and they wore themselves out right there on the couch. The next morning, he was mortified, but he couldn’t help but kiss her when she woke and complimented him on his… performance. It's been 6 months, and you’d never know he wasn’t always a muscled up, sweaty, straight boy, chasing girls at school, slacking off in class, and riding his new Lacrosse Scholarship that Sarge so nicely arranged when Theo got big and dumb enough to join the team. It seems Sarge knows quite a few coaches, Alumni, and Board members with a good bot of influence. It also seemed the school’s Jock population was skyrocketing, coincidentally at the same time as Sarge added a pool, an extension, and a garage full of classic cars to his house…

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.”

_________

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