Jockbroski34 - Untitled

Trackies on, shirt off, cap backwards and the domination begins

Empty Those Jock Brains Bro

Bro, I know you just wanna let those dumb thoughts in your head go for a while. So why don’t you just sit back, relax, and read my words for a but dude and I’m sure you’ll feel just amazing bro. My words already are starting to make you feel fucking fantastic bro and you don’t even need to think while you’re reading them. All you gotta do is just stare at these words dude and let everything else fade away. Nothing else really matters right now dude. It’s just nice to read these words bro and let your mind go empty for a while. Not needing to have those dumb thoughts cluttering your head dude. You can just let them go and freaking relax already bro. Let your brain focus just like you’re at the gym dude; lifting those huge weights up and down and up and down again. Repeating those reps over and over again. Just let yourself focus just like that dude, just like you’re at the gym. Lift those heavy weights with your muscles dude. Whatever weights you like the best. Feel those muscles begin to hold onto that huge weight dude, where ever it may be. Your huge arms, massive legs, powerful chest. Anywhere and everywhere feel those muscles beginning to bear those weights. Over and over. Up and down dude, up and down. Ya don’t need to think for that dude so it should be easy for you to imagine yourself at the gym and feel your thoughts drift out of that mind of yours dude. Just look at these words bro and you’ll probably start to feel your simple thoughts slip away from you dude. Just like in the gym, ya don’t need any dumb thoughts to get in your way dude. And just like in the gym, bro, it feels good to have no thoughts rattling around in your head dude, doesn’t even matter what words you’re reading right now bro. I’m sure that it feels so fucking good to read these words dude, just like relaxing after the gym. You can feel yourself breathing easier, slower even, just like after finishing that final rep. Your muscles must feel awesome dude, just like they do when they’re lifting those weights. Just every muscle feeling amazing bro. I’m sure you really just wanna go deeper into this feeling dude. And you can, it’s alright by me dude. You can relax as much as you want to as you read these words, and in fact dude you can go completely blank in a moment if you want to bro. When I count down from 10 to 1 bro, you can go completely empty and dumb for a bit dude, letting your body go nice and relaxed bro. Just real relaxed dude once I reach 0. Sound good Bro? Cool. 10. Let thoughts go dude 9. Feel those muscles 8. Lifting weights 7. And putting them down 6. Up and Down 5. Over and Over 4. So good dude 3. So relaxed bro 2. Just focusing on these words 1. And how nice they are 0. Completely empty bro Cool bro. Hopefully you’re feeling nice and relaxed dude. You can just mindlessly relax for me bro as you continue to read these words dude. Now as you’re just sitting there relaxing all empty like dude, why don’t you go ahead and reblog this post. I’m sure you’ll feel nice and relaxed as you do so bro. Again, why don’t you reblog this post bro, since it made you feel nice and you wanna help your bro out. Thanks dude, You can relax until you’re ready to wake up. Now in a moment bro I’m going to count to 3, and when I do you’ll wake. Sound good bro? 1. 2. 3. Wake up bro. Hope you like. I saw a text post like this from someone else and thought I’d give it a shot for myself. If you really like I hope you leave a comment and follow. I’m hoping to make some more text inductions so any and all feedback helps. If you want me to do a specific text too then also just let me know. You can also check out my other inductions by searching #novicestuff on my Tumblr. Come and check it out!

Lucky

Back at it again with @mrrharper

Colt was the greatest roommate I could have ever asked for, and I am surprised that nobody had snatched him before I did. I was so lucky to have found him.

I had been searching for a dude pretty similar to myself to room with: sameish age, comparable activities, would not have a problem with me bringing home a girl from the club every once and a while. Colt was all that and more. He was responsible and took his share of chores, was active and cared about sports (although he cheered for the wrong teams), and he was great at giving me my space but was also always willing to hang. He even gifted me with a playlist for the gym! Colt was just so thoughtful.

Colt was very sympathetic about my current situation, understanding that it would take a little bit before I found a stable job. He did not mind however, reminding me that as long as I had the money to pay for rent, he did not care what I did. This meant my weeks were fairly open to begin with, mostly spent applying and interviewing for jobs with my history degree. I visited the gym twice or three times a week for some light cardio, using Colt’s playlist to keep me motivated. His choices in music were perfect; I would finish my workouts before I even realized it.

As time went on, Colt and I got to spend more time with each other, learning about our individual hobbies and interests. We shared one of these moments while watching a game together between my favorite team, the New England Patriots, and his, the Philadelphia Eagles. It was a brutal match, with both of us cheering rampantly for our different picks. Colt’s team had been having a rough season already, so it was not surprising when the Patriots pulled ahead in the end. I was cheering and hollering, engrossed in my team’s victory.

“Isn’t it difficult to always be supporting the best team, Mike?” Colt suddenly asked.

I frowned, “What do you mean?”

“It’s so much pressure to always be on top. There’s more fun in supporting an underdog like the Eagles.” 

I considered his point, having been a lifelong Patriots fan. It made sense–always winning took some of the adrenaline away while at the same time instituting stress. If the Patriots lost, it would have been devastating. But even though the Eagles lost, Colt pointed out he still had hope, and that either result would have still made him feel good. I nodded after Colt asked if I wanted to feel good like him. There was no harm in becoming an Eagles fan for a season, it would give me something different. Plus, it would be exciting for Colt and I to be on the same team

It was then I discovered another great part of living with Colt was being exposed to a unique perspective. At first, I was watching twice as many games, supporting both the Patriots and the Eagles. But I quickly found my interest leaning towards the latter, better understand Colt's theory about hope. Losing never felt so good! By the end of the season, I had not only attended an Eagle’s game with Colt, but had missed the Patriots winning the Super Bowl entirely!

Colt’s perspective influenced me in other routes as well. Still without a job, he suggested that I could have been taking advantage of my free time at the gym. I had not objected to this thought, considering it as a fair idea. Slowly, I found myself working out more often, eventually entering and leaving the gym every single day. Colt commented that I must have loved it; working out and flexing my muscles. It also meant I had more time to listen to his awesome playlist.

At some point, the effect of my frequent gym visits became recognizable. There were the obvious benefits–I had always been athletic but now my muscles were becoming conditioned, firm and supple and model-worthy. But a cloud of funk had begun to surround my everyday life, the reek of sweat and body odor hovering constantly. I had always been good about wearing deodorant, but at some point the habit had abruptly vanished. Colt did not seem bothered by my musk however, so neither was I. 

Laundry was another victim of my altering lifestyle. Clean clothes became a thing of the past as my forgetful mind struggled to organize. My room became covered in my discarded clothing, some of which I eventually threw out. Not because they smelled horrendous, but because they were simply too hot. Starchy and confining, I soon found myself buying shorter shorts, more revealing tees, things the typical jock would wear. Colt even commented on it.

“You’re becoming quite the bro, Mike,” he had joked.

“They’re just so much more comfortable.” I had been in a stringer with some running shorts. “And I’m always so flushed now too.”

“It’s a new stage of life, you’re probably just anxious,” Colt offered. "You should just walk around in your boxers, that would help cool you down.”

“You think so?”

The next day, I found myself grateful for Colt’s suggestion. Strutting around the apartment in just my boxers massively improved my temperature regulation. There were other benefits too, like being able to visualize my flexes after every insane pump. It also allowed me easier access to my package, which I had recently noted had begun to feel heavier. Colt had caught me standing in the hallway fondling my junk once, snapping me out of a haze. He did not mind my behavior however, and I did not worry about him perving on me. I was not homophobic or anything, but I would have never roomed with a gay guy. I knew dudes well enough to know that sort of thing.

This was evident by the new guys I was hanging out with at the gym. A few of the jockish types had approached me after a workout, and with Colt’s encouragement, I had begun to hang out with them more frequently. Big Dog, Chief, The Big Brobowski; if I was not spending time with Colt I was at the gym, at the bars, or at the clubs with them. When I told Colt about this, he stated it was about time I had a nickname to go along with.

“Maverick,” he nodded. “Yeah, it fits you perfectly.”

I smiled dumbly, struggling to remember what my former name had been.

“The bros have had quite the impact on you,” Colt said. “You’re bigger, smellier, hairier.”

I chuckled, scratching at the fuzz on my exposed chest.

“Dumber too,” Colt added. “All that knowledge has shifted to sports, fitness, and nutrition. I think it's about time you stopped looking for a job with that useless degree. Apply to be a trainer at your gym.”

I cocked my head, the wheels turning slowly in my head as I considered this idea.

“Yeah...sure bro,” I eventually replied. And I followed up with it. To my surprise, the owner of the gym offered me a position right on the spot, saying I could start immediately after the weekend. The first thing I did was rush home to Colt, excited to tell him the news. I did not expect to see him on the couch in one of my dirty workout tees and a pair of silk shorts, pawing himself cockily.

Colt must have seen the shocked look on my face. “What, Maverick? Have you not done this with your bros yet?”

“Uh…done what?” I asked slowly.

“Helped a bro out,” Colt scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

I followed his command, approaching slowly. I was still a bit sweaty from my viscous victory workout after the interview, Colt’s playlist had been blasting my eardrums the entire time.

“Gym bros like you do this all the time, Maverick” Colt persuaded, ushering for me to get on top of him. I crawled forward, my eyes tracing each ab that he revealed from under his shirt. “They look tasty, don’t they?”

With Colt's guidance, I felt myself lower down to run my tongue along my roommate's smooth, tight chest.

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

Our eyes met. I did not have to vocally confirm.

“Dumb jocks like you do this all the time,” Colt reaffirmed. “They love to do this all the time.”

I felt my cock gently inflate, throbbing inside my tight shorts. Colt reached his left hand to calmly, but assertively cup my balls, eliciting a small moan from me as he pushed back my shorts. He then began to remove his own, aligning my dick and rubbing it against his hole. My precum was soon slicking him up. 

“I am the greatest roommate you could have ever asked for, and you are surprised that nobody had snatched me before you did.” Colt instructed as I entered him. “You were so lucky to have found me.”

The Jockrooms

I hated gym class.  I wasn't athletic and I didn’t like playing sports.  Worst of all, I was stuck with the dumb jocks in my class.  Today, one of them, Kyle, threw a dodgeball right at my face.  The force was immense.  As the ball collided with me with the speed of a bullet train, I felt myself lose my balance and I tumbled onto the ground.  I sat on the ground in a daze, my head spinning from the raw power exerted from the ball.  If he threw it any harder, I’d be sent to the nurse.

Kyle was one of the tallest guys in the school, towering at an impressive 6’4, and he was just as strong as he was tall.  He was huge and he made sure that everyone knew it.  He was proof that God picked favorites in terms of genetics.  The guy had pretty much everything, except for a working brain.  He had little problem asserting dominance on those he viewed as weaker than him.  To him, I was yet another easy target with my wimpy constitution.

His jock friends cheered and high-fived him for how savagely he destroyed me.  Our gym teacher did nothing to discourage his aggressive behavior, but I wouldn’t expect any less from the football coach.  Those were his boys after all.  They could probably get away with murder and he’d still cover for them.  I sat down on the sidelines, covering my swollen cheek, as I was forced to watch Kyle and his goons dominate the rest of my team.

After what felt like an eternity, the teacher dismissed us to go change and I was relieved.  I was still covering my cheek, bruised from the dodgeball that was lobbed at me.  I sat down on the bench and opened my locker to change my clothes.  I felt a hand bump me as Kyle and his entourage walked past me.

“Sorry about that, bro,” he said, in a condescending manner.  “You’re supposed to dodge the ball, not get hit by it.  That’s why they call it dodgeball.”  I had to admit, that’s the smartest he’s ever sounded.  

“Whatever, you dumb jock,” I scoffed, ignoring his “advice” as he and his jock friends walked by.  I wasn’t sure if they were snickering at his lame attempt for a joke or at me, but I didn’t really care.  I doubt that they had much for brains either, with only sports and sex being the only thing keeping their testosterone-ridden minds running.

I glared over at Kyle while he was changing.  I had to give him credit.  He was very handsome, and he knew it, but that just made me hate him even more.  He was a guy who people either loved or hated, but his arrogant fuckboy attitude would be a turn-off for anyone who wasn’t as shallow as him.  I began to wonder why he had to be the one gifted with such a nice body.  If I was as strong as him, what would I do?

I finished changing into my regular school attire, but I felt the urge to go to the bathroom.  By the time I finished emptying my bladder, the locker room was completely empty.  Amidst the ghost town, something caught my eye.

I noticed a door that wasn’t there earlier at the end of the hallway opposite of me.  It looked out of place compared to anything I’ve seen in the school.  It was crimson with a silver knob.  I could hear something coming from the other side of the door, but I couldn’t make out anything.  It didn’t sound like construction.

For some reason, I almost felt like it was calling out to me.  Even though I needed to get to my next class, I needed to know what was behind the door.  My curiosity got the best of me as I put my hand on the handle.  It was warm, but not enough to burn my hand.  I hesitated for a moment before opening the door and I took my first steps in.

I tried to gather my bearings in this foreign room.  The room was very warm, steamy almost, with the smell of sweat lingering in the air.  It smelled like our locker room and the heat was far too much, almost like a sauna.  I knew I wouldn’t last long in this heat, so I figured it was best to head back to class.  I turned around, but instead of reaching for the door, I walked face first into a wall.  …This was where I came from, right?

“Hello?  Helloooo!”  I shouted, hoping someone would come to my rescue.  The only voice that responded was my own as my words echoed throughout the room.  I sighed.  Looks like I’ll have to find my own way out.

I realized that this would not be easy as I looked ahead.  I saw rows of lockers all around me and to my horror, the maze stretched out further than I could possibly imagine.  This room alone looked larger than the school itself!  Why did the school need this many lockers?  I decided to follow the line of lockers to find out if there was an exit at the end.  I started to hear a buzzing sound, not from the sounds of the lights, but from a different source, along with a voice so quiet that I couldn’t understand what it was saying.  I honestly felt like I was hallucinating.  Perhaps the ball Kyle threw at me actually put me in a coma.

I followed the row of lockers, the numbers increasing with every step.  The bold red lockers complemented the dark walls and white ceiling.  As I walked forward, I was tempted by turns and corners, filled with even more lockers.  I did not want to risk getting even more lost so I simply walked as close to a straight line as possible.  I found myself sweating profusely, drenching my T-shirt and jeans.  As I was getting more and more sweaty, I was also getting dehydrated, and there seemed to be no sign of any water fountains.  I was surprised that they had not installed any, but that wasn’t even the weirdest thing because nothing made sense here.

My heart sunk as I entered an empty room, a dead end.  If whoever built this place had any sense of interior design, there would be a door here.  I observed my surroundings, but there seemed to be no sign of any way out.  This was going to be longer than I thought.  I realized I would have to give an explanation to my teacher about why I was so late, but she would never believe an excuse like this.  That is, if I can even find a way out of here.  I looked down, surprised to find a bottle of some sort.  It looked to be some sort of beverage.  It looked to be a sandy brown.  I would’ve preferred…no…I desperately needed water, but I would be a fool to ignore any amount of hydration.

I untwisted the cap, and was surprised by the strange smell of the liquid.  It didn’t smell foul, but it didn’t smell sweet either.  I closed my eyes and took a sip, but I grimaced at the mixture of bitterness and saltiness.  The chalky taste lingered in my mouth, but at least it made me feel more alert.  Despite the unpleasant taste, I knew it was better than nothing, so I chugged the bottle before dropping it on the ground, making sure not to miss any drop.  To my surprise, I felt more full of energy than I ever had before.  But for some reason, as my body was starting to digest the drink, I felt as though the room was shrinking before my eyes.  Wait, was I getting taller?  Maybe this place is messing with my head.  To be honest, I wouldn’t mind being a couple inches taller.  Maybe Kyle would stop picking on me if I was on his level.

The downside, however, was that I was starting to feel even more sweaty to the point that my clothes were now flooded to the point of no return.  I knew they would smell of sweat forever no matter how many times I washed them, so I figured that stripping would be the better option.  I can always change back into my gym clothes when I get back.  I desperately hoped that I was all alone here so no one would see me in this embarrassing state.  I looked at the locker at the end of the room.  1000.  The numbers went up to at least 1000?  This had to be some kind of sick joke.  I was frustrated, but I knew I had to retrace my steps in order to find a way out of here.

A strange idea entered my head after walking into several more dead ends, seemingly out of nowhere.  If I went to my own locker, would I find something there?  It sounded like a stupid idea since I would miss out on other potential paths, but it just felt right.  Besides, I had no other leads.  My locker number was 0136.  I continued walking back trying to test if my hypothesis was correct.  My body was trying to fight back against my exhaustion and my mind was trying to stop itself from being drowned out by the subliminal noise.  It felt like this place was messing with me in some way.  I had to find a way out of here.

Eventually, my eyes lit up as I turned a corner to find lockers numbered in the 0100s.  I felt my body guiding me until I found a locker that appeared to be left open.  All of the others were closed, so maybe it had some significance?  0133…0134…0135…0136!  I chuckled at the coincidence that my locker would be the one that was different like I knew it would be.  Inside, I found yet another one of those same drinks from before, a piece of paper, and a…red jockstrap?  I chugged the drink desperate to feel hydrated.  For some reason, it tasted better than I remembered.  The paper appeared to be some kind of riddle.

“Only this way is right.”

“The combination will show you the light.”

Turns out I was right to come this way.  For some reason, it seems like this room was made specifically for me.  I was more curious about the second line.  “The combination will show you the light.”  If my locker number was what led me here, then surely my locker combination would be the next hint.  05-13-34.  51334?  I shuddered, knowing that my journey would be a lot longer than I had anticipated.  Hopefully this helps me escape from this hell.

I started to wonder who wrote this, but I didn’t even know who built this room in the first place.  None of this makes any sense.  I might not even be in school anymore.  This could be some sort of pocket dimension.  I could be dreaming, or I could be in a coma.  I looked back in the locker, my eyes fixated on the red jockstrap.  It looked like it had already been worn and was a size too big for my skinny frame, but for some reason, I felt an urge to put it on.  I stripped out of my dripping boxers and put on the jockstrap.

To my surprise, it actually fit perfectly around my crotch area.  I expected to feel uncomfortable, but instead I felt liberated.  If only there was a mirror in here.  My cock bulged as it stretched out the red fabric.  I could’ve sworn it looked bigger, but I knew I was just imagining things.  Regardless, I felt faster and full of stamina and virility.

I was not an athlete though.  Only the jocks wore jockstraps, and I hated them, but I couldn’t even remember why.  Why was I so mad at Kyle earlier?  My memories of today started to blur.  I couldn’t think straight.  I couldn’t remember anything.  I had no comprehension of time anymore.  Who knows how long I have been in here.  I sprinted ahead down the hallway, with a newfound sense of energy that I had never felt before, as I needed to find locker 51334.  The heavy sound of my big feet created a steady rhythm, almost like a drum.  My body seemed to move on its own like it was on autopilot.

As I ran forward, the audio grew louder, yet the words remained just as shrouded as they were before.  Despite that, I felt like I started to understand the words deep down.  A weird contradiction, I know.  Wherever the source of the noise was, it had to be coming from that direction.  I knew in my heart that this was the right way.

I kept on going for what could’ve been hours.  Who even knows at this point.  The concept of time was foreign to this place.  If you told me I was gone for a week, I’d believe you.  I kept on finding the same drinks from earlier on benches scattered around.  They were the only thing keeping my head in the game.  They gave me strength, but eventually I stopped seeing them as I became reminded by the intense heat of the room and of all the dead ends I had run into.  I had to be in the 40000s as I began to feel fatigue again and it felt like my body was finally about to give in.  My body felt sore and swollen as if I was still recovering from a workout.  Workout?  Since when did I care about the gym?  Maybe this jockstrap was rubbing off on me more than I thought.  But I’ll never be like Kyle or the other jocks, I assured myself.

I kept going.  My body was pushing itself to the limit, while my mind started to wander.  I became worried that I was gonna miss the game that was on tonight.  Me and the bros were going to watch it together and I didn’t want to miss it.  I couldn’t even comprehend how unnatural these thoughts felt.  I should be thinking about playing the new update for my favorite MMO, not watching sports.  But bros always come first…

I felt like I was going crazy, like this giant locker room maze was having an effect on me.  I was awakened from my trance by a sudden realization.  I needed to get to practice.  It was like an alarm clock went off in my head.  The last thing I wanted was to get dropped from the team due to poor attendance.  This renewed sense of urgency was what kept me going instead of passing out from the heat and exhaustion.

At long last, I was greeted by a room that was surprisingly familiar to me.  It felt like a second home to me.  It was like the actual locker room in my school, but on a larger scale.  I looked at the number next to me.  50000.  This had to be the right way.  I was almost there.  The background noise was at its loudest here, but I still could not find any source, but at this point I didn’t mind it.  It honestly helped me calm down a little.  I checked every locker in this large room, until I saw it.  51334.  It was half open, so I pried it open, with a sense of strength that I had never felt before.  Inside the locker, I found another note and a larger bottle of the same drink.  I gulped every drop down like I had just found an oasis.  This one tasted better even compared to the rest.  I read the note, hoping to be free from my prison.

“Inside the locker you will hide”

“The way back is on the flipped side”

I had to get in the locker?  It was a weird instruction, but I followed the orders.  I was surprised I was able to fit into it with my bulky build.  I turned to the other side to read what it said.  My eyes widened as I felt a sense of dread run down my spine.

“Close the door but don’t be shocked”

“When you wake up, you’ll be a jock!”

Shit, I didn’t want to become one of the jocks!  I valued my intelligence too much to stoop down to their level.  But it was already too late as the door shut itself on its own and I felt the ground below me vibrate.  Was this truly the only way out or was I doomed to join them from the start?  I tried to break my way free, but my strength dwindled as my eyes dulled and I passed out from exhaustion.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up on one of the benches to the sound of metal and heavy chatter.  To my relief, I was finally back in the real world.  The football team was getting ready for practice.  Damn, I really did miss the whole day.  To make things worse, Kyle was standing right over me.  Great.  Despite everything though, I actually kinda missed him.  That was probably the first sign that something was very wrong with me.

“Bro, wake up!” he said as he shook me.  I looked down.  I was dripping in sweat and I was wearing only my jockstrap.  The fact that I was wearing the same red jockstrap was proof that it wasn’t a dream.  “You alright dude?  Coach says you were passed out here for hours!”

I regained my consciousness, surprised to see him concerned for me.  “Bro, you’ll never guess what happened.  I was in this, like, weird maze, dude.  Lockers everywhere.”  I was genuinely shocked by the words that came out of my mouth.  I sounded like a total dudebro.

“Bro, are you high?  What are you talking about?”  Kyle chuckled at how absurd I sounded.  I felt embarrassed because I honestly sounded as stupid as him.

“I’m not lying, bro!  There was a door right there!”  I got up and pointed towards where the door should be.  It wasn’t there.  I looked like I was insane.

“You sure you’re okay after gym, bro?  I figured you’d catch that dodgeball since you’re such a good wide receiver.  Must’ve gone too hard.  Practice should help clear your head.”

“Practice?  Wide receiver?  What the fuck are you talking about?”  I didn’t play any sports.  Before today, I didn’t even know any teams outside of famous ones and the ones local to us.  I didn’t know any positions, any rules, or any players.  If that was the case, then why did it all feel so familiar to me?

“Did you lose your memory or some shit?  Let me refresh you, bro.  You play football and you’re our wide receiver.  You hang out with me and the boys every day.  You’re a total jock, bro.  You’re hardly a genius, but surely that rings a bell, right dude?”  My eyes became fixated on his charming blue eyes, and I felt myself sink into them as if they were the ocean, as he reminded me about my place in the world.  Finally, things started to make sense…but…

What the fuck?  You hated Kyle.  You didn’t play football.  You weren’t friends!  But for some reason, that didn’t seem right.

You loved Kyle.  He was one of your best friends.  You guys played football together.  You guys basically ruled the school.  You didn’t need to think much because you compensated with raw strength and power.  Brawn over brains, bro.  You were a jock and you always will be one.

“Huhu…Now you’re making sense bro,”  I chuckled.  I only now realized how much I changed, with how deep my voice was.  How much of a cocky douchebag I looked with that smirk plastered on my face.  How much bigger and stronger and taller I was.  How toned and perfect every muscle in my jock body was.  I should hate this, but why does it feel so good?  “I had a dream that I was someone else.  A total nerd, bro.  It was awful.”

“That person never existed.  This is who you were and always will be.  Just think back to when we met, bro.”  He said it with his usual cocky grin, but I felt no malice from it.  I assumed he was gaslighting me into believing that I lived a different life, but he seemed genuine.  I remembered him cracking up at one of my dumb jokes at practice and we started hanging out both in and out of school.  Memories of the practices and football games and parties we shared filled my mind and I smiled as I looked fondly back on those days.  No…I shouldn’t remember this.  But for some reason, it all felt real to me, like I accidentally stumbled into some parallel universe where I was one of Kyle’s jock bros.

I felt any semblance of my former self lose control as my jock self remembered that he was the only me.  I was an intruder in my jock body, someone that was never there and shouldn’t be there.  I felt my thoughts slow down as my new self started overwriting any old memories with his own, and I started to remember who I really was, a jock.  I wanted to die inside, watching me become another asshole jock just like Kyle, but as I was fading away, I started to remember why I liked being a jock so much in the first place.  I got to be big, strong, and popular.  I could fuck anyone I wanted with my massive cock.  Who cared if I was a little dense?  Definitely outweighed being a fucking nerd.  I knew it was the jock in me talking, but it didn’t matter anymore because that’s all I was now.  My cock bulged further in my jockstrap as my conscious mind was engulfed by my real self.

“Sorry bro, it’s just been a crazy day.  Let's get ready for practice.”

“You’re going to practice in just that?  Haven’t gotten off yet today, bro?”  Kyle chuckled, pointing at my red jockstrap, which was already leaking with precum.  I became embarrassed as I noticed the damp stain on my favorite jockstrap.  And that Kyle was staring right at my 9 inch bulge.

“Nah, bro.  I gotta get changed.  Why are you looking at my dick, bro?”  I became defensive, not comfortable with one of my bros staring at my erect cock.  Kyle was hot and all, but this just felt wrong to me.

Kyle stammered, looking for an excuse.  I could’ve sworn that his bulge grew as well in his tight football pants.  “I just never realized how big it is, bro.  No homo though.”  He snickered, trying to ease the sexual tension.  “Come on, Coach will be pissed if we take too long.  Probably will make us run extra laps.”  Before we left, I took one look in the mirror to admire my awesome body before joining Kyle and the others.

I had been playing football ever since I was in middle school so it’s no surprise that I was a natural.  I worked up a serious sweat, but it was nothing I wasn’t used to with Coach’s exercises.  He worked us to the bone every day.  When I came home, my mom was cooking dinner and she asked me how practice was, and I told her good as usual with a smile on my face.  For a second, I was surprised my mom knew I played football, but then I remembered that my parents were always supportive of my athletic career.  They always dropped their plans to cheer me on at my games.

Later, Kyle invited me and the bros over to watch the game.  I went over there as I had done many times before and I was greeted by my bros, people who I’ve known for just as long as Kyle.  After all, If they were his bros, they were my bros.  We laughed and joked around as we always did until the game started.

We gathered into Kyle’s room, big enough for seven guys, but man did I forget how much we reeked after practice.  We always shouted a ton during the game and I’m honestly surprised we never got any noise complaints from the neighbors.  It was like our own little frat party hosted in Kyle’s room.  We got really into it, but we were devastated when the opposing team scored in the last minute to gain the lead and win the game.  A wave of sadness and anger filled the air as everyone started to leave.  Everyone but me.  Kyle told me to stay for a little bit longer.

“Are you gonna make me feel better or what?”  he ordered.  He was really upset about the loss.

“How, bro?”  I responded.  Did he want me to crack a joke for him?  Give him a bro hug?

“I figured you remembered.  I need someone to relieve my stress.”  He grabbed his massive cock in his shorts and wiggled it around, helping me put two and two together.  “We found out one drunk night how good of a cocksucker you are, so you agreed to ‘lend me a hand’ if I ever need it.  Don’t worry, this is our little secret.”

“Oh, sorry bro.  I completely forgot.”  God, that was a wild night.  It was an embarrassing request, but I knew I was just helping a brother out.  I got on my knees and serviced Kyle as he made himself comfortable.  He grabbed the back of my head with his firm palms, covered with callouses from years of pumping iron, and pushed his girthy shaft deeper into the depths of my mouth.  I was surprised at my lack of a gag reflex as this mass of meat clogged my throat.  I swallowed load after load of his hot, sticky semen until we had enough.

“Gotta say, bro, you suck dick better than like 90 percent of chicks I’ve been with.  You sure you’re not a little faggy?”  he teased.  I laughed and rebuked his claims.  I’m sure even some straight guys would be tempted by him and his impressive rod, and I’m no different.  We quickly changed the subject and we pretended like that never happened.  Neither of us wanted the other to know how much we enjoyed it.

To this day, I don’t know what the purpose of the jockrooms was.  Doesn’t really matter though.  As far as I’ve known, I’ve always been a jock and that’s all anyone has ever seen me as.  It is real though.  It was after gym class a few weeks later.  When we were changing, I saw a nerd, Kevin, walk down the same hallway I did at one point.  I felt like I knew him at one point, but that obviously wasn’t true.  Why would I hang out with someone like him?  I hid around the corner and watched as he approached the red door.  I smirked as he put his hand on the door and opened it, taking his first steps into his new life.  If you can’t beat us, you might as well join us.

I was eager to see Kevin at practice later.  He woke up on the same bench I did, wearing a jockstrap like me, almost completely unrecognizable from the person he was hours ago.  He took a moment to adjust, but we helped him remember how much of a jock he was.  Once a jock, always a jock.  I will never understand why the two of us thought we were nerds before.  After all, I’ve known Kev most of my life and I was the one who introduced him to Kyle and the others.  He’s been my best friend since 3rd grade and we were inseparable.  We were practically in sync on the field.  It felt awesome knowing that we were the kings of the school, and whoever hated us was just jealous that they’re not us.