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.
I couldn’t stand my roommate, Caleb, at first. Our online conversations before university had led me to believe he was someone similar to me—reserved and bookish occasional gamer. But the person I met was a whirlwind of energy that exuded force, a stark contrast to my quiet demeanor. Caleb was the epitome of a dude bro, his boisterous charm drawing people like moths to a flame. His presence was overwhelming, and I often found myself irritated, yet intrigued by his larger-than-life persona.
Caleb's influence began subtly. He would often encourage me to join him for early morning workouts. "C'mon, bro. It's good for you," he'd insist, his enthusiasm chipping away at my reluctance. The gym sessions were grueling, yet there was a sense of camaraderie that I couldn’t help but enjoy. His philosophy of 'being built different' was both baffling and inspiring.
Gradually, I found myself being pulled into a more disciplined lifestyle. Caleb was a force of nature, waking up at the crack of dawn with a zeal that was infectious. "Discipline starts with the dawn," he'd proclaim, and I found myself mirroring his routine. I began with 50 push-ups each morning, a task that seemed insurmountable at first, but grew easier with time. Breakfasts transformed from sugary cereals to eggs and orange juice, fueling my body in ways I hadn’t imagined.
Then came the cold showers, a practice that initially felt like torture. "It's about pushing your limits, bro," Caleb would encourage, a mischievous glint in his eye. I begrudgingly started, each icy blast a battle of willpower. But with time, what was once a dreaded experience became a refreshing challenge.
The changes in me were not just physical. My confidence soared, and I found myself engaging more with others, stepping out from behind the safety of my books. My clothes fit better, and my posture improved. Caleb’s influence was unmistakable. "Show off that progress, man! Your life is defined by discipline," he'd say, his encouragement a accompanied by a pec dance.
Our relationship, initially strained, evolved into a mutual respect. I realized that beneath Caleb's flashy exterior lay a deep commitment to self-improvement. His antics, which I had once found abrasive, were now moments of inspiration.
One evening, after a particularly intense workout session, Caleb opened up about his philosophy. "Being disciplined isn't just about the gains or the girls," he mused, a rare seriousness in his tone. "It's about loving the journey, the daily grind. It's about finding joy in discipline itself. That's the real reward."
His words struck a chord within me. Caleb, the embodiment of discipline, had unwittingly become a mentor, guiding me towards a path of self-discovery and growth. His relentless pursuit of excellence had become my own, a shared journey that transcended our initial differences. In that moment, my respect for Caleb deepened, transforming my once intolerable roommate into an unlikely source of inspiration.
Hey bros, Happy New Year's! I hope you all make this year your best yet and I hope you all reach your goals. I came up with a short story on the fly to ring in the new year. Hope you guys didn't party too hard like these two!
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Before I knew it, 2024 was almost here. Everyone always says that next year will be their year, but few people actually end up following through with their New Year's resolutions. Some people want to make more money, some might want to quit smoking, but me? I just wanna get jacked, bro. I know how it goes though. People go to the gym for a week, then are unable to keep up with that lifestyle. But I can do it, and I will. I felt a sense of determination with the desire to get in shape.
I found myself at a New Year's party. One of my co-workers invited me. I didn't know most of the people there, but I didn't have any plans so I decided to go, because why not? My friends barely have time for me anyways. A lot of them have started to settle down and some decided to have smaller celebrations with their spouses or are visiting family.
I was sitting on the couch when a guy I've never met sat down next to me and greeted me. He told me his name was Mike. He was my age, wearing a backwards hat, tank top, and shorts. Not exactly the best look for the winter, but he looked just like a fuckboy who partied all day every day. He probably just wears this every day just to show off his muscles and pick up chicks. He started chatting me up about the party and about the football game that was on the TV. I didn't really know anything about sports, but it was what was on so I played along, not wanting to be rude. He asked me what my New Year's resolution was. I said I wanted to get jacked. He seemed confident that I could do it. He downed what had to have been his third beer so far before asking if I wanted another drink as well. His breath stank with the scent of beer.
I said sure. As long as it got this dude away from me for a minute or two. I might tolerate him more if I was drunk anyways since it didn't seem like he was going anywhere anytime soon. He came back carrying two bottles of the same type of beer. We made a toast for the new year and chugged our beers. As I drank, I started to realize that Mike wasn't that bad for a dudebro. He was actually really chill. I ended up asking for his number so we can get drinks sometime. He said he knows some good bars nearby and he didn't live too far from me.
He asked me what my New Year's resolution is. He already asked me that though? His memory must not be the best since he was drunk. I told him I wanted to be jacked, kinda like him. He chuckled a dumb laugh, drunk from the excessive amount of alcohol he drank tonight.
"What do you mean? You're already jacked, bro."
I was confused at first. I didn't have a lot of muscle.
"Look at yourself dude."
I thought he was fucking with me until I looked down. My biceps felt like they were throbbing, burning as they seemingly increased in size. I panicked, running to the bathroom, unsure of whether I wanted to check out my new gains or find a way to stop the aching burn in my muscles. I looked at myself in the mirror, and flexed. I wasn't hallucinating. I was just as jacked as the bro I was drinking with. I stripped down. I realized that I had a six pack as well. The dude from before knocks before entering the bathroom with me.
"You good bro?"
"What the fuck did you do to me?" I asked, overwhelmed by my new body.
"You said you wanted to be jacked, so I made you jacked. I put something in your drink, and now you're huge. Isn't that what you wanted, dude?"
I couldn't deny that. I wasn't sure whether to feel grateful to him or mad at him for doing this without my consent. He could've even drugged me further. Before I could comprehend everything, he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me in for a picture, showing off our ripped bodies.
"Hey, try my hat on. I wanna see how you look in it now."
He tossed me the hat he was wearing, but I didn't wear hats. I took care of my hair and I didn't want my hair to get messy. I wanted to look professional, not like a frat bro. Despite that, I found myself wanting to put it on, and so I did. To my surprise, I even turned it backwards just like my best bud. Best bud? I didn't really have a best friend. But Mike was my new best friend. We met at my co-worker's New Year's party and we hit it off really well. I needed a new workout partner to help me stay consistent, so he offered to take me with him every day. He's actually looking for a new roommate so I might move in with him since we get along so well. Makes it more convenient since we plan to hang out and party all the time in the coming year.
I start to realize that my mannerisms are changing, starting to match his. Before I was uptight and professional, a total bore. Now I’m an outgoing, party-loving dudebro. I felt my penis grow erect in my pants and start leaking as I became as horny as Mike, with my length growing to a sexy 9 inches to go alongside his. I doubt that I could pull as much as him with my old size.
"You feeling better, bro?"
"Yeah dude. I feel great! Let's pound some more brewskis and fuck a baddie or two."
"That's what I'm talking about!" Mike gave me a high-five. "You can keep the hat by the way. A memory of the day we met, bro."
And keep it I did. I decided I would wear it everywhere, especially when I was out with him and his bros. I would fit perfectly in with them in a way that my old self would have never.
We returned to the party with even more beers in our hands, and me and Mike chugged every last one of them. We drank the most beers out of anyone in the party combined. My coworker caught the two of us causing a scene and kicked us out. He almost didn't recognize me at first, but after seeing me with him, he started to put two and two together. He told Mike that this is why he doesn’t invite him anywhere. I thought my coworker would tell my boss about my conduct, but I didn't really care what happens. It's not my fault I’m a party animal.
"What a buzzkill," Mike said. "Whatever. Let's go back to my place. I took a box of beer with us to finish as we left. They aren't gonna finish themselves."
Midnight was still a few hours away, and all of his bros were at other parties anyways. We sat down on his messy couch and finished what was left of the beers, cheering on our team and playing loud music. Didn't matter where we were or who we were with, we were the life of the party. My bro became pent up after not being able to get any action tonight and so was I. I offered to suck him off. After all, it's not gay to suck a homie off, and so we got off together. Getting head from him was almost as good as a hot babe. I’ve never had a guy blow me before. Neither of us could tell the other how much we really enjoyed it without the fear of being called gay.
After we both released our loads, we passed out from all the alcohol we drank, him on top of me. I don't think I ever drank this much in my life, and it was just one night. We woke up, looking like a total mess on the couch. Damn, we slept past midnight. I was still wearing his hat. I thought I would wake up and find out this was all a dream, but nah. I’m still Mike’s douchey best friend. But I smiled, knowing that we would always have each other’s back.
"Happy New Year’s, bro." I said.
"Happy New Year’s! Now tell me your real New Year's resolution, dude?" Mike answered, obviously hungover.
"I wanna party and fuck all year long!"
"Fuck yeah, bro!" He gave me a strong, brotherly hug. He told me about a rager that one of his friends was hosting tonight. All of his bros are invited and so am I, and some hot babes are gonna be there. This was the life I always wished I had, and this year, it will be my life.
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.
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:
Hot camel clutch sleeper
Gotta find our bros
Stranger Danger
Part 1
Luke had always been a keen cyclist, and today only underlined that enjoyment. The weather was perfect for a 30 mile ride, it was warm, sunny and dry. Infact the first dry day for about a week so he had been keen to change into his cycle gear and hit the road early. He was 22 years old and had been cycling for about 7 years, he was tall, about 6ft 2" with dark hair which was short at the sides and kept longer and floppy on top and he had a lean, fat free physique with legs that were tanned and slightly muscular as a result of his years cycling. Years of cycling and being on his school swim team had paid off for Luke and he had now a physique which was perfect for cycling. Truth be told, it was also perfect for looking good in his cycle kit, lycra isn't the most forgiving material he often thought but if you have the right figure there's something very sexy about the way the material clings to every curve. Luke definitely had the right figure. Although the keeping fit element to cycling had always been the main motivator, he had to admit to himself that the way the lycra felt and looked had always been a bonus reason for him to ride. He had a fairly large collection of cycling kits to wear, maybe a little too large and sometimes he thought maybe he enjoyed buying them and trying them on as much as the actual riding. Luke considered himself straight, in fact he had even dated, for a short while, one of the girls on his school swim team. The thing is, he had also liked two of the guys on the swim team as well, though had never done anything about these feelings other than let his mind, and his hands wander, when he laid in bed under the covers wearing just his dark blue Speedos . I guess if you held a gun to his head and made him choose he would admit to being bisexual.
Today he had slipped on his favourite kit. It was a black, long armed skinsuit made by Castelli, an all in one suit that had a tiny zip in the front that was pretty much invisible once done up. The effect was a suit that looked pretty much sprayed on and covered his body from his neck down to his thighs. The material had a wide black elasticated seam where it ended so that it clung to his legs and wrists. He finished it off with white cycling socks and shoes that clipped into his pedals. Safety being crucial, he also wore a red and white helmet with cycling sunglasses. He had, on a couple of thankfully rare occasions got a bit 'excited' on his rides, esp if he let his mind wander, and had allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of the lycra clinging to his body a little too much and was glad on those rides that he hadn't had to get off his bike. The suit was called a skinsuit for a good reason, and he wouldn't have been able to hide the impressive bulge straining the material to anyone that he might have met. Luke was blessed with being not only good looking but well endowed as well.
Today, he was pleased was not one of those distracted days. Today was all about the ride. He was about 20 miles in and was pleased with his pace so far. He was concentrating on the hill that was about a mile up the road and was taking in some fluids from his drinking bottle. Dehydration was easy to achieve but also easy to avoid. He was aware of a vehicle that was closing in from behind but he was moving at a decent speed so wasn't too bothered about slowing the traffic. The road wasnt quite two lanes wide and had a number of bends but was about to straighten up just before the hill so Luke figured the car could pass him then. He raised out of his saddle and sped up, powering down on his pedals to build up speed. The vehicle behind was now just behind him and could overtake him before the hill. Luke always felt a little vulnerable when a vehicle was just behind, esp when he was out of the saddle as he was aware he must be giving the driver a great view of his butt. His Castelli skinsuit had small padding to stop him getting saddle sore but didn't leave much to the imagination. If he was truthful he would also admit to quite liking giving whoever was behind him a view of his bum in the lycra, and hoped that they might appreciate the view. For some reason the car didn't overtake him, and instead stayed just behind. Not too close to be threatening, but close enough to be stuck behind him now the hill had started. Not particularly concerned Luke powered on and really pressed down into his pedals.
Suddenly the crank arm on the left pedal snapped with a loud crack and Luke was very nearly thrown from his bike. Through more luck than skill he managed to control the bike and click his shoes out of the pedals and bring the bike to a somewhat unelegant stop. His heart was racing as he had just about saved himself from a potentially nasty accident.
"Are you ok mate?" said a voice from behind.
It was the driver of what Luke now saw to be the van that was driving behind him. The van had stopped and had it's hazard lights on.
" Yeah I'm fine thanks, just a bit shaken up" said Luke. The van driver had got out and was walking to Luke.
"You did really well not to come off your bike, you were moving at a good speed"
"More luck than skill but yeah, that was close.." replied Luke, .."I'm glad you weren't trying to overtake me when my bike broke, I could have been hit by you!"
" me too, luckily I was happy enjoying the view" the van driver answered.
Luke nodded as he was looking at his broken pedal and assumed the guy meant the rolling countryside . What Luke didn't notice was the van driver was staring at his lycra clad bodysuit as he had said that.
Luke then realised that in his haste to leave his apartment and enjoy the sun he had forgotten to put his mobile phone in the small pocket on the back of his suit. He was now stuck, with a broken bike and about 10 miles from home.
"Shit, I forgot my phone" Luke said "could I borrow yours to see if I can get a lift home from someone please?"
" Unfortunately the battery is flat on mine so it's just turned itself off" said the van driver
.." where are you heading, I can give you a lift if that's any use? My names Jack by the way, and I use to ride myself, so I know how frustrating it is to be stuck on the roadside"
"Erm ok, thanks. I'm Luke and I'm heading into the next town, I live near the bus station. Is that where your driving to?"
" It is yeah, looks like you've had a lucky escape and now a free ride home" said Jack smiling.
Luke did a quick assessment of the situation. He was indeed stuck here, with no phone and no way home. This Jack guy seemed ok. He was about his own Dad's age, about 50 or so and seemed to appreciate Luke's dilemma, apparently being an ex cyclist. He looked like he use to cycle too, he was tall like Luke and was trim. He obviously kept himself in good shape. Luke knew it wasn't ideal to get a lift from a stranger but this situation wasnt exactly ideal either. Take a lift or have a very very long walk home, and anyway this guy Jack seemed nice enough, not the usual pot bellied van driver that shouts abuse at Luke for being too slow and holding up the traffic.
"Well if it's no hassle, I'd really appreciate the lift" Luke said hopefully.
Jack walked to the side door of the van, slid it open and said
" There's room for your bike back here, but I'll let you put it in as I know how expensive those machines are!" Jack smiled a warm and sympathetic smile.
"Great!" Luke wheeled his broken bike to the side door and looked inside the van. It had a lots of boxes and very large padded envelopes inside stacked up. There was plenty of room for his bike and he lifted it up and into the van, the roof was not tall enough to stand up in so he stooped over as he manouvered his bike and lent it against the boxes. Jack stood at the doorway and watched Luke as he did so, Luke was again a little conscious that he was giving Jack a great view of his butt as he secured the bike in place, as he was having to bend over right in front of him to move some boxes.
.."are you a delivery guy Jack?" asked Luke as he looked at the boxes , one of which was torn and the contents were about to spill out.
" I am today, my usual driver is on holiday, and I've had to collect some new things I'm selling and have a few specialist deliveries for a clothing company to make" answered Jack.
Luke commented that one box was split and he lifted it to show Jack. As he did so he noticed that the contents seemed to be an arm of clothing made from Latex, a material that Luke had often daydreamed of wearing, being like the Lycra he was wearing right now but a little more...full on. Like so many guys his age, he had spent his fair time on the web looking at porn sites, and recently he seemed to be steering towards sites with guys and woman in exactly this material. He accidentally on purpose let more of the material fall out of the damaged box, in order to get a better view.
Jack noticed and seemed a little embarrassed. " Oh shit, sorry about that, yeah I'm delivering for a clothing company that specialises in Latex clothing. I've got a few boxes to deliver and then I'm done for the day. Sorry if that seems a little weird but I guess I cater in clothing for people into a certain look!" Jack laughed trying to move the conversation on.
" Fair enough" said Luke intrigued but noticing Jacks embarrassment. " Each to their own I guess!" With that Jack stacked the box onto the others, and sneaked a little touch of the material without Jack noticing and jumped out of the van " thanks so much for the lift" he repeated " it would have been a very long walk home" he was glad to shift the conversation away from the Latex as he feared getting distracted and letting his thoughts become obvious in his crotch area....
The next few miles of driving flew by for Luke. Jack turned out to be a really nice guy, quite funny in fact and the conversation really flowed. It turned out Jack was 52 years old and had lived near by for about 5 years, apparently he drives these roads quite a lot and said that he actually thinks he's seen Luke riding his bike before. Luke thought it must have looked quite odd really, Jack was a middle aged guy in jeans and a t shirt driving along chatting and laughing with a 22 year old lad dressed in a skintight lycra cycling suit. But the conversation was easy and he relaxed into the journey, grateful that the miles were speeding past and he was heading home.
" Listen, I hope you don't mind but I need to quickly swing by my home to get a couple of extra boxes I need to deliver " Jack said . "I will only need 10 minutes to load up and you can wait in the van while I do so if you want? "
"Erm, sure " said Luke. He probably should have been a little concerned by the sudden change of plans but Jack seemed like a really decent guy, and anyway he was more than twice Lukes age so he wasn't worried at all, Luke may not be overly muscular but he was fit and could look after himself.
" I could do with a grabbing a drink at yours if that's ok" said Luke wiping his forehead, the days getting warmer..
.." no problem mate. You do look really hot in your Lycra.." Jack replied, looking at Luke. It was weird but Luke was sure that as Jack said this he ever so briefly glanced down at his lycra clad crotch but he dismissed this as Jack just looking around as they chatted.
A few miles later and they turned off the road and drove down a very narrow single track road. It was a road that didn't look well used at all and went on for quite a while, eventually turning right and opening out onto a gravel driveway in front of what Luke assumed was Jack's house.
..."wow, nice house and quiet too" Luke commented.
"Thanks mate, yeah I love the fact that its in the middle of nowhere. Nobody ever bothers me here and that's fine with me"
The van came to a stop in front of the house and Jack jumped out, leaning through his open window saying " you can wait here if you like mate, I've gotta grab some things out the van and get some bits from the house, I'll get you that drink"
Luke really liked Jack's chilled attitude to life, having chatted non stop for the last 20 minutes or so and to be honest he had ever so slightly bonded with him in this unexpected meeting and felt very at ease in his company, feeling like they had known eachother for years rather than minutes and so said.." I'll give you a hand if you like?, I could do with getting out the hot van to be honest"
"Great! If you could grab that broken box from the back I'll open the garage door"
Luke jumped out of the van and realised how hot the day had become. He pulled the top of the skinsuit away from his chest as the sweat was making it stick to him a little and he stretched as he got out. He then went to the vans side door, grabbing the box with the Latex outfit inside and, glancing over his shoulder to check he was out of sight, did find himself touching the material whilst gently adjusting his cock through the lycra. He quickly realised that he'd better stop, otherwise his cock would start to grow inside his skinsuit and Jack would wonder what the hell was happening.
He shook his head to clear away any unwanted thoughts and took the box into the house through the opened from door. The house was really cool, nicely decorated but very male oriented. It appeared that Jack didn't have a women to help him decorate, or at least not one that won the arguments! The colours and finishes were very male biased but looked good. Luke liked the place a lot and wandered through to the kitchen and found Jack there. Jack appeared a little startled as Luke walked in and placed the broken box on the counter top. He had his back to Luke and was finishing making his drink, stirring it's contents as Jack walked in.
.." perfect timing mate" said Jack. " Here's your drink, I put ice in it as it's so hot today, hope that's ok?"
" That's great thank you" replied Luke, as he took a long swig on the ice cold drink. It was extremely refreshing and he was grateful for it. He was more dehydrated than he thought and pretty much necked the whole thing in one go.
Watching him with interest was Jack who was just sipping his drink. .."blimey, at this rate I'll be preparing you another one sooner than I expected" he said smiling.
Luke wiped his lips with his suit sleeve and placed the glass down next to the box, looking at the Latex sleeve sticking out.
.." I've noticed you looking at that a few times mate" said Jack.."you're very welcome to take it out and have a proper look. I need to repackage it now anyway"
.." I have to admit I am a little intrigued, would that be ok?" asked Luke
.." of course" Jack said "I didnt quite give the whole picture earlier, I actually own the company that sells these clothes and this is a new line I've just designed and collected from the warehouse. I'd be very interested to hear your thoughts on how it looks to be honest" admitted Jack.
.." oh ok, you never know" said Luke..." If I like it I may order something from the range " Luke was a little surprised he had said that. His Latex kink had been kept a firm secret up until now, but he realised that his heart was racing at the thought of checking it out. He opened the box and pulled out a long garment that turned out to be a full body suit! Very similar in fact to the racing suit he was wearing but a thicker material with a much larger zip going all the way from the neck down to the lower back. The arms were full length and so we're the legs. Luke was immediately drawn to what he was seeing and feeling. The material being shiny and flexible must be super tight on whoever wore it he thought. What was most striking was the smell coming from the clothing. Latex has a very defined smell and I guess it's either love it or hate it. Luke clearly loved it as he unconsciously raised the suit up to his face and took a deep sniff.
..."the smell right?" Said Jack. .." I have to admit I love the smell of Latex too. Always have"
.." it's fantastic! " replied Luke
" I'd be happy to sell you that if you like it that much Luke" said Jack.. "there's actually more things from that new range in another box. That particular outfit is a two box set. The other box is in my storeroom if you want I can get it and you can take a look?"
.."yes please! " blurted Luke, almost shouting with excitement.
As Jack left the room to fetch box No 2 Luke was amazed with himself for sounding so keen. He was very surprised he was making his feelings so obvious but his head was giddy with excitement. By the time Jack had returned with an even larger box Luke was aware, though seemingly unconcerned about the growing bulge in his skinsuit. He was so keen to see what was in the new box he didn't seem to mind the fact that he was now standing in a strangers kitchen, wearing nothing but a lycra skinsuit and sporting what, obvious to anyone looking, was a large boner.
.."there you go mate. Box two. Its much heavier than box one as it's full of accessories." said Jack winking at Luke as he placed the box down in the counter top. " Latex is a great material, if you have the right physique I've always thought" pondered Jack out loud..." much like the lycra you're wearing now Luke, if you have the right look then it's very flattering." Noticing Luke's not unsubstantial bulge in his suit Jack delivered the killer question...." I tell you what mate, this is actually such a new line for my clothing range I don't have any pictures to post to potential customers of how the clothes look being worn by someone.This might be a little cheeky but if you're interested in getting that whole set for free would you mind trying a few things on and letting me take a few simple pictures for my website? Most of my clients, but not all, are middle age guys and seeing these clothes being worn by a young guy with a physique like yours would definitely help my sales.Don't worry about showing your face as that range happens to include a mask that covers your whole head so no one would know who's wearing it"?
" Oh I don't think so" answered Luke .." that is a little weird., I'm flattered you think I could model for you though.." but something in his head was making him feel very uninhibited and he really did like the idea of trying these on. "maybe another time, how about I just buy this range ?"
.."of course mate, I totally get it. We've only just met and here I am asking you to squeeze into a full latex catsuit and pose for some photos " laughed Jack. " I guess it is a little weird. That set sells for £1000.00. I'm happy to accept credit cards."
.."fuck" replied Luke.." I had no idea it was that expensive. I cant afford anything like that.." he looked at the outfit in front of him and realised that he wasn't going to be buying it any time soon. Not for that sort of money. His was really feeling a little light headed now and was still sporting what seemed like an increasingly harder cock that was definitely throbbing harder than it ever had before.
.." I do like the idea of trying them on but it all feels a bit weird, I mean we only met by chance a couple of hours ago. What sort of photos do you need for your website...?" inquired Luke
.."oh only a few of you in the suit" replied Jack "then a few with the accessories on as well I suppose. I've got a small studio here that I've used in the past. All very straightforward, just showing potential customers how the clothes look from in front and behind...but I get it Luke, it's just a shame cos your a good looking lad and would model the range well I'm sure..." Jack said reflectively.
Luke had slightly fazed out of concentration for just a moment, and found himself coming back into focus mentally..." How many photos would you need? If it's just a couple and you can't see my face, then I guess being paid in a Latex suit is interesting....ok, let's do it but can I look at the photos before you post them, just to make sute I'm happy with them..?"
.."sure thing! That's great" exclaimed Jack. " I'll show you all the photos before I post them!."
End of Part 1
Round of applause to @mrrharper
I dumped my uniform and bag into the locker, my partner John doing likewise beside me. After a graveyard shift, the two of us had decided to hit the gym bright and early in the morning before sleeping through our day off. John and I had been partners since we had first joined the police force. As officers, we had done a lot together; rode together, drank together, laughed together. One time we were even in a foursome together with two chicks we had picked up at a bar.
Now in our early thirties though, we had begun to take life a little more seriously. Start choosing wisely, acting responsibly. Working out had been my idea, and after six months it had already shown some results. Both of us were average height and had gained some pudge over the years, but now we both had notable definition. I could not help but flex a little in the mirror, impressed by the beginnings of my triceps.
“Looking fire, broski!”
My eyes shifted over to one of the three football jocks who sauntered into the locker room. I was immediately annoyed by the trio of obnoxious meatheads, and I could tell John was as well.
“Have you been coming here for long?” the first asked. “We haven’t seen you around.”
“We come when we can,” I replied. “Working for the law gives us busy schedules.”
“Woah…so are you guys like, officers or something?” the second guffawed.
“Officers, yeah.” John was irked.
“Huhuhuh…cool bruh!” the third jock inserted. “You two should totally join us!”
Before we could respond, the first jock piped back in, “Yeah dudes! We could have a great sesh between the five of us. Brock here is stellar at arms, and Duke is the best at working those legs and glutes.”
“Jalen’s a pro with chest,” the second jock, Brock, finished. “And you two officer bros, what are you good at?”
I grunted, “Knowing how to refuse an offer.”
It took Brock and Duke, the third jock, a second to process what I had implied, their mental capacities obviously slower than the average male. Jalen was a little faster however, putting on a dumb smile.
“Your loss bros, but totally understandable,” he shrugged. “In case it wasn’t obvious, we’re on the football team at the local college, so let us know if you need any workout tips or exercises.”
I barely nodded my head, offering a blunt, “Ok, thanks.” John and I then made our way past the bulky jocks, the three of them each larger than either of us. I took a breath as soon as we exited their collective earshot.
“Three cocky dicks,” I snorted. “No better way to start the morning.”
John mockingly agreed. Our workout was brutal, our bodies already tired due to our unusual sleep schedule. This, along with the occasional stare from one of the jocks, only encouraged us to work harder. Nothing was spared from our exercises, we utilized machines that hit multiple areas at once. Arms and chest, legs and back, abs and quads. At the end, we hit the treadmills for a thirty minute run, sneering back at the trio while they stood in front of one of the many mirrors and flexed their pumped arms, taking pictures for social media.
Eventually, we were back in the locker room cleaning up, both expecting the jocks to ambush us again. Fortunately, the lumbering footballers never arrived. John had joked they were probably still drooling over their own muscles in the mirror, and I had replied better they were drooling on themselves then us. I did not want their narcissistic, dim-witted reek all over me, and neither did my partner. We both opted to skip showers; we could take them back at our respective apartments before crashing into our own, cool beds.
As we left the locker rooms and headed towards the exit, we were immediately swarmed by our unwanted acquaintances.
“You know, bros,” Jalen swung a beefy, sweaty arm around both of us. Brock paced behind me, and Duke followed suit with John. “We never caught your names? We’d like to thank you for your service, officers, whatever it is you do."
His tone was a little menacing, but I knew he would not try to pull something in broad daylight. “Darren,” I responded. “and John.”
Jalen grinned, moving his arms to pat the back of our necks. I felt a little sting at his touch, almost like an electric shock.
“Now c’mon bros, how about you come join us at the frat house where we can properly use your services.”
John frowned, and I retorted with, “I think you boys have had your fun.”
Brock chuckled, “Fun’s not even started broski.”
Duke’s response was even deeper and dumber, “Huhuhuh...dudes aren’t even ready.”
We had finally made it outside, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. I noticed our squad cars parked up front, we would be out of this mess in just a moment.
“Alright, this is our stop,” I exclaimed, making sure the three got my message. Suddenly, a piercing jolt was sent across my spine, traveling all the way from my brain to my toes.
“Our stop is actually over there, officers.” Jalen pointed to the two trucks past their cruisers. “Darren, you can come with me and Brock, Duke here is gonna take John.”
Robotically, my body followed Jalen’s command, tracing behind the first two jocks to their obnoxiously big vehicle. Although I could not turn my head, I could tell John’s body was following the orders as well.
“Disengage Operation Mode, security bypass JALEN, sleep.”
— —
“Engage 25% Operation Mode, security bypass JALEN, wake.”
My eyes fluttered open. I was standing in an empty room, not rigid but not slouching either. To my right, I could sense my partner’s presence, familiar with John’s aura. We were still in our dirty gym gear, although our body odor was nothing compared to the three jocks standing proudly before us. Through the windows behind them, I assumed it to still be some time in the morning, but that was the only piece of the situation that I could try to fathom.
“Bet you’ve never had a mind control chip implanted, have you, officers?”
I tried to respond with something snarky, but my mouth wouldn’t let me.
“We were just trying to be friendly, help some bros out, but you two insulted our kindness.” Jalen stepped a little closer, even from a distance I could feel his large, masculine presence. “Maybe next time you won’t mess with the son of a government-funded millionaire.”
Jalen pointed his fingers at his two goons. Brock and Duke each stepped forward, crossing the distance between them and John and I. They removed our shirts, and although I could see or move my feet, I realized my shoes had already been taken too.
“My dad gifted me some leftover mind-control chips he had built for the military, said I could use them if I ever needed them. Something along the lines of "accessing the nervous system" and "reprogramming capabilities". Didn't matter to me bros, it was all nerd-speak. I just needed the commands.”
If I could have, I would have gulped. Jalen stepped closer as the other jocks discarded our clothes.
“MC 1001, 50% Operation Mode.”
Suddenly, the feeling was restored throughout my body. I did not bother with attempting an escape, recognizing my body was still glued to the floor. When I turned to my partner, I realized John had not been released.
“What’s the plan, Jalen?” I spat.
“You were so rude to us back at our gym when you are employed to be of service” Jalen smirked. "The bros and I thought we should remind you of your duty, and what better way then by dispatching you as our new security guards who obey our every wish and command?”
“So what, you’re going to 'reprogram' us?”
“How about you see for yourself?” Jalen then turned to John. “MC 1002, engage Modification Mode, security bypass JALEN.”
“MC 1002, Modification Mode engaged, security bypass confirmed." It may have been John’s mouth that had opened, but I knew it was not him who was speaking.
“Brock,” Jalen invited. “How about you take the first swing?”
Brock laughed and scratched at his crotch, “Get him jacked bro.”
Jalen turned to Duke, “Anything specific you’d like to add?”
To my surprise, Duke did have something to add–a lot to add: “Make them former rugby players bro, cause rugby is for idiots and rugby players should serve football jocks, the real alphas.”
Jalen raised his eyebrows, a bit surprised too. “Works for me. MC 1002, enter in keywords ‘Rugby’ and ‘Jock’ to the personality frame and set both at 88. Raise ‘Muscle’ by 40 base points and remove any post-secondary education from the mainframe.”
Watching the football neanderthal list off a series of programming commands put our situation into a new perspective. My eyes grew with fear as the changes installed into John’s body. It was like watching a horrible balloon inflation, his body contorting as it expanded. John’s once meager chest bloated into two massive pecs supported by two trunks of legs. His arms cartoonishly bulged until they were practically circular, his pits filling with hair as a tattoo wrapped itself around his right bicep. His face thickened too, adopting a square shape along with a wider nose and thicker stubble.
“Keywords ‘Rugby’ and ‘Jock’ successfully installed.” John’s voice was now deeper, gruffer. “‘Muscle’ upgraded, post-secondary education deleted.”
Jalen nodded, “MC 1002, add 10 base points to his age as well.”
“Adding 10 base points to ‘Age’.” To my shock, I helplessly observed my partner grow older beside me. The skin around his body tightened, pulling in to reveal the more delicate details of his veins and tendons. Wrinkles began to develop across his body along with other age marks. It was painful to watch his hairline slowly pull back, his scalp thinning out into a well-maintained crew cut.
“Here’s the fun part,” Jalen mocked, noting my face of terror. "Lower cognitive abilities by 20 base points and independent identity by 30 base points. Install the ‘Security’ package to the mainframe and boost the ‘Obedience’ category to max potential."
Although there were no visible alterations, I could have sworn the light went out behind my partner’s eyes. “All actions executed, please confirm modifications to MC 1002.”
Jalen smirked, making direct eye contact with me. “Confirm MC 1002, disengage Modification Mode, reengage total Operation Mode.”
To my delight, I watched as John’s body reanimated completely, indicating he now had full control over his body. But any hope I had was immediately crushed as soon as he stood at command, dumbly grinning with his arms crossed over his chest.
“How can I be of service, sir?” John asked Jalen.
“Go do a full sweep of the yard of something, bro.” Jalen tossed John a pair of sunglasses, not even bothering to hand him any other clothes. Apparently his now too-tight joggers were enough. “Oh, and by the way, you go by Hammer now.”
“Hammer…” John processed. “Yes sir, thank you sir.”
I watched as my former partner stomped out of the room, out of our reality.
“Why ‘Hammer’, bro?” Brock piped in from behind me.
“‘Cause he’ll be laying down the law of the land.” Jalen then shifted back to me. “Our other friend here will be ‘Brute’.”
I heard two empty-headed laughs from the two empty-headed jocks behind me.
“He’ll be nothing more than a wall of meat,” Jalen taunted. Before I could insult him back, he instantly shut me up. “MC 1001, engage Modification Mode, security bypass JALEN.”
“MC 1001, Modification Mode engaged, security bypass confirmed." My mouth was out of my control. I tried to fight back, reanimate myself by any means possible.
“Alright Duke, it’s your turn.”
“Same thing as last time, bruh.”
Disappointed, Jalen shifted back to Brock, “Got something else?”
I prayed Brock would not say anything too damaging “Make him huge dude,” he requested, putting me at ease before following up with: “And make him like a butler too.”
Jalen laughed, and if I could have I would have cried.
“Oh MC 1001,” Jalen merrily instructed. “Copy MC 1002’s personality frame and mainframe, and enhance body and clothes proportions to 1.5. ”
“Modifications downloading,” I stated, a sudden sinking emerging in my stomach. In moments, I sprung upwards towards the ceiling, my height soaring above the jocks to an astonishing six and a half feet. Muscles exploded out of my body, bloating me thick with bulk. My arms were plump and my hands meaty. Two juicy pecs larger than my head were now carried by my absolute barrel of a chest, stretched out and taut. My legs were colossal, so dense that I would permanently be forced to take wide, swaggering steps. Even my neck thickened, supporting my newly masculinized skull.
“Copy and paste procedure successful.” My voice was husky, low, deep and booming. “Body and clothes proportions at 1.5.”
“Look at his socks, bro,” I heard Brock snigger behind me. “Whattya think those stompers are?”
“Huhuhuh…I don’t know dude…maybe Size 15?”
“Looks like I missed something,” Jalen appeared disappointed. “MC 1001, reduce reproductive size to 3.”
“Redacting 4 base points from ‘Reproduction’.” I screamed, pleading for this to stop. But no words exited my mouth. Instead, I remained painfully silent as I felt my cock and balls shrivel down within my shorts.
“Helps with the obedience factor” Jalen stated. “Now, let's lower cognitive abilities by 40 base points and independent identity to 15 base points. Install the ‘Security’ package to the mainframe, boost the ‘Obedience’ category to max potential, and add in keywords ‘Respect’, ‘Humility’, and ‘Subservience’."
I would not give up, I would not cave in. “Please confirm modifications to MC 1002?”
Jalen was finished with his game. “Confirm modifications, disengage Modification Mode, reengage total Operation Mode.”
After a moment, I blinked. My head felt fuzzy, empty, as if some great weight of responsibility had been removed. I dumbly chuckled to myself.
"Feeling good there, bro?” Jalen smiled. “Excited to serve us jocks?"
"Uhhhh, yeah bruh…be of service."
"Well said, Brute."
"Brute?" I smiled lazily. “What can I uh…do bro?”
"First, let’s get you in uniform.” Jalen signaled to Duke, who then tossed a black cap to me. I secured it backwards onto my head proudly.
“Now, clean the frat house from top to bottom. I’m talking dirty laundry in the machine, trash taken out, floors scrubbed–the whole deal. I want this place looking slick before the party starts tonight. Once you’re done with that, you can go patrol the lawn for any feds. Got all that?”
It took a while for me to process everything, but eventually the dumb grin came back to my face.
“Yeah bruh…whatever you need.”
Thanks for the Warm Response! Here's a shorter piece - Occam
It’s definitely not normal that they invited me to this party. It was a direct invite too, obviously. I wouldn’t show up unless someone explicitly asked. From what I understand frat parties don’t usually have a guest list, but I am not one to just wander in.
Judging by how unpleasant this is so far I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have accepted Derek’s invitation at all. I start to look around for the nearest exits which is when Derek finally shows his face, approaching me with two drinks in hand.
“Sup bruh! I’m so stoked you could make it! This party is gonna be absolutely killer soon so I hope you can stick around!”
“Ah, well I was-”
“I brought you a little drink broski! I know shit like this isn’t your cup of tea so I figured you’d take the assist, this stuff’ll loosen you right up.”
I take the cup from him and just avoid wretching from fumes of alcohol coming from the cup now in my hand. I assumed it was just a beer but it looks like some horrible mixed drink.
“It’s Everclear and Hawaiian Punch bro! As soon as you get past the first taste you barely notice the burn!”
He continues to stand there as I fail to brainstorm a way out of at least trying this. I see a potted plant across the room and know my next move. I’ll give the drink one chance to get Derek off my back and dump it as soon as he turns his.
It’s honestly not as bad as I thought it would be, it doesn’t even seem alcoholic actually? It’s just sweet? Almost to a sickly degree. I don’t really taste the punch either, it's just…
I start to take another sip before noticing that impossibly, my cup is already empty. I only took a sip though? Something, something is not right. I start to freeze up before Derek starts shaking me, his hand holding a second cup of the punch high above his head shouting, “Brooo! You just demolished that! Fuck! I’ve gotta see that again!” He shoves the second cup into my hand and begins to push his way back towards the punch bowl “Everyone outta the way! This nerd has got to have more to drink!”
I watch him longer than I should have, dumbfounded holding this drink that I didn’t want. Don’t want? My vision gets blurry as I watch him maneuver his massive body through the crowd. Woah, I guess this is what alcohol does? I feel myself start to grin watching him struggle to fill a two-liter with whatever that punch is. Jungle juice? Oh Shit? Is he bringing that to me?
The DJ switches playlists and I feel excitement quickly start to build in my chest. I fuckin’ love this song! I start to inch towards the crowd before I’m elbowed in the face and my glasses fall directly into my cup.
“Hey dude! I need those to fuc- I need those to see” I instinctively shout as I look to see my glasses just peeking out of my cup. Before picking them out though, I notice that my vision is actually better now? Which briefly starts to set my veins afire once more, why have I been going to a fucking optometrist for years I start to think, clenching my jaw before I look closer into my cup.
This alcohol must really be getting to me or Derek is pulling another prank on me or something. My hair looks so stupid up like that. I start to move my hand to fix it before seeing my arm reflected.
Or is that even my arm? It shouldn’t be? It’s the size of my head. I shouldn't be able to life something that size if I wanted to. I need to get some fresh air, or just some quiet space. I need to get out. I need-
“Party king coming through! Sorry bro I couldn’t get the bottle to fuckin work so I hope two more cups will do” I see two cups clenched in massive hairy, may as well be, paws starting to pass back through the dance floor. My own hand flexes and I drop my drink, spilling it all over my shoes as I bolt to find a bathroom. Cheers of “Party Foul” ring out as I dash, completely ditching my glasses without a second thought.
I weasel my way through the crowd feeling less agile than usual. Finding it much easier to shove these pipsqueaks out of the way than to squeeze between them before I find peace in the second floor restroom, miraculously without a line outside. I don’t question why I suddenly know the layout of this house as I slam the door and take a deep breath. Music still comes through the door as I reach for the light and prepare to look in the mirror.
The haircut was the least of my concerns. I look like a beast as I start to hyperventilate. I feel the music outside the room quicken matching my heartbeat, my newly 20/20 eyes stare into themselves as they turn from blue to a deep brown and visibly lose acuity. I feel my biceps pressing against the sleeves of my t-shirt narrowly avoiding a deliberate flex to rip the shirt apart.
I notice a stink other than jungle juice coming up from my feet as I feel them beginning to push against the tongue of my shoe. I collapse to the floor and quickly struggle to untie my laces before squeezing my feet out. Immediately apparent are drastically rattier socks than I remember putting on to get ready for this party. Full of holes and stains, I dread knowing whose socks these are and what is happening before recognizing them as my own. Or really they could be any of my bros socks but who cares.
As soon as this thought pushes its way into my head a pit drops into my stomach. I am an only child, I don’t have any bros, or well, I have a house full of bros now right? Getting up off the floor I again glance into the mirror. My jaw is wider, my stubble itches but just like it always does, right? I put my face in my hands creating enough strain in my small shirt to force a tear down the back. Why am I wearing such tiny tiny clothes anyway? Must be Derek hazing me again huh. I think holding in a guffaw, I wonder how he got me in these?
I tear the rest of my shirt away before doing the same to my pants which is when I learn that I have apparently been going commando this whole time. Now free of these nerdy-ass clothes I flex in the mirror. Pecs popping like always, my bros always say the hair hides my pump but who cares bro I want to look like a man. I briefly shake my cock at myself in the mirror smirking and see laid out behind me are a change of clothes that Derek must have laid out for me.
There are a pair of slides, some athletic shorts and a massive stringer that says “Party Prince” Bro! He must have made us matching shirts!
I quickly start to change to match with my Bro and see cologne on the counter. I’m sure bro won't mind if I use it. Each spritz I feel myself fill out my tank even more, veins beginning to peak out down my arms and my package becomes even harder to miss in my shorts. I do a few more poses in the mirror before hearing a knock at the bathroom door.
“Bro you in there? The party’s dying without you bro!”
Hearing my big bros’ cry for help I get my head in the game. I’ve got to bring it tonight. I kick the locked door open, completely shattering the door frame as I cry out- “Who’s ready to drink tonight,” tossing the awaiting cup of jungle juice into the air over the crowd.