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.
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:
Fuuuuck dude. You made me so aggro. Like I feel so fuckin alpha bruh. Like fire in my veins dude. All this muscle, all this confidence, all this cock huhu. Dude I thought you’d just give me a boost but now all I wanna do is show off and fuck. Like you really got rid of that pathetic pussy I was before. Limp dicked nervous little fuck. But man… maybe you took it too far…? Like I feel like, like such a dumb douchebag…. A hot dumb jacked douchebag. A cocky dumb meathead… Mmm yeah bruh. Look at this body flex. I love it. I mean so what if I am a dumb pretty muscle bro. Check me out. I deserve respect, to fuck and be fucked. So, what you looking at bro? Like what you see? What you made me into? Cause I don’t know if you can handle this cock or hot hard ass. But let’s find out.
TW: mentions of bullying and harassment
There are three pillars that Coach considers vital to the development of his jocks.
The first one is physical strength - football jocks need to have the primal urge to lift heavy things and spend hours at the gym, as well as a never-fulfilled desire for their muscles to get bigger.
The second is football intelligence. A jock shouldn't spend time studying or revising for exams, these things ought not to occupy his mind. But he has to have a detailed understanding of the rules of football, so that he can demolish every oponent he comes across on his way to a championship. He has to know how to execute plays perfectly, read the other team and adapt accordingly.
But the third pillar is just as important as the other two - the attitude. Coach, someone with - let's say - a conservative streak, believes his jocks should present all the masculine traits he deems important, and do this publicly, without shame.
It all begins with pride. From the very beginning of their mental conditioning, Coach makes sure his jocks will he proud men, ready to show off their achievements. A football jock has to make sure everyone around him is aware of his triumphs. This also serves the purpose of keeping the morale in the locker room on a high level - all these jocks have to remember what beasts they are on the field and that they are capable of completely demolishing everyone if they so desire (and Coach makes sure they do desire it).
Next one is domination. As a football machine that is programmed to win, a jock needs to be able to take control of any situation, make himself the alpha in the room and on the gridiron. This assures that he will fight to get that W in all circumstances, not accepting "no" as an answer.
The two traits above are then accented with arrogance. A jock walks around like he owns the place, because he does. The university gets the funding and prestige because of his dominance on the field. He is on top of the social ladder and doesn't question it. He also knows what people are below him and treats them as such, always looking down and displaying his higher status.
All of this is then augmented with anger. Some would call it toxic behavior or "problems with anger management", but for Coach a real jock requires that streak of aggression flowing in his veins. This allows him to function in his environment with ease, as no problem is really a problem when you're ready to just crush your way through it.
And it starts from the very beginning. Hypnotic videos and tracks Coach uses are infested with examples of dominant and cocky behavior. They set the example of how an aggressive and proud football jock acts, and make conforming to such a way or being a high priority.
Later stages require orchestrating scenarios that encourage the expected behaviors and test the instincts of prospective football jocks. When a jock's grades fall below the NCAA threshold Coach suggests getting a nerd to do the hard work. Violence as a way of solving conflicts between jocks is not discouraged, as long as the injuries don't influence in-game performance. Someone always begins a wave of flexing and posing at the end of a team workout sessions.
Every batch of jocks turns into a form of a high-control group after enough time. Bros who respond better to mental conditioning begin to influence other jocks who need some more time to conform, as their proud, masculine behavior and dominance forces the others to either ascend to the same level and join the alpha bros at the top of the ladder or attain the status of "lesser". No football jock will ever be lesser under Coach, so it doesn't take that long for the locker room to become a textbook example of masculinity, cockiness and dominance, with not a single exception to the rule.
In later stages its only a matter of overseeing the jocks in their life on the team, taking action every time it's likely that a jock is sliding back into his "pre-football" ways.
Coach sometimes has to work a bit harder to maintain the order he's created. The league and NCAA officials are not always keen on violence on the sidelines, so when one of his defensive linemen's fist lands on an enemy WR's face, some strings have to be pulled in the background. There are elements within the university structure that are hostile to Coach's methods and the jock attitude he's nurturing inside of his locker room. But every allegation of bullying or cheating can be worked through in such a way that the jocks come out on top. It's not a question of if, but of how.
Every time Coach sees one of his jocks push over a loser on the hallway, trash talk their conference rivals, take part in a biceps measuring contest in the gym or extort some assignments for class, he knows his methods are working exactly as intended.
Now onto the next batch of recruits.
My name is Alan and I'm the star shortstop for my small college team. I've always dreamed of making it in the big leagues. I don't remember a time when I didn't have a glove in my hand. There's just something about having this uniform on that makes me stoked for the day. I've trained all day every day since I was a kid until the lamp posts came on and my mom or friends telling me to wrap it up for the day. Even my girlfriend gets jealous sometimes that I don't spend enough time with her. I feel guilty but if I'm being honest, she's second to my love for the game.
It's Friday and we're towards the end of our game against the college across town. They don't stand a chance against our team, but especially my quick moves in the field. They can't get any balls past me! My blood is rushing with adrenaline and I'm feeling confident.
That's when I noticed in the stands some older guys with notepads looking my way. Shit, there are scouts here! This could be big for me as I've always dreamed of being drafted by an MLB team. I push away their presence and focused on the game. The batter then slams a ball my way and I instinctually jump to catch it before it rolls into the outfield. The crowd and my team go crazy! It was the game ending play. My team rushes to lift me up into the air and I can't help but notice the scouts smiling my way.
I'm walking out of the locker rooms still in my uniform feeling the after-game buzz when one of the scouts approaches me.
"Hey there! You're Alan right? Michael Right from the NY Mets. Crazy catch you got there at the end!"
"Thanks so much! It was a lucky save." I said modestly.
"Nonsense! You really have something kid. If you're interested, I'd like you to meet some players from the Mets. We love to see how future prospects mesh with our team."
I was stunned. "I would love that!" Meeting the Mets was a dream for a local town kid such as myself.
"Great! I'll book you on a flight to see them before their big game tomorrow. Some of the players could really use someone with your kind of catching skills."
That last line didn't quite make sense since I didn't think catching was what I was known for, but I would agree to anything to meet the team and make a name for myself.
_____________________________________
It's the next day and I'm being escorted up to the dugout by Michael. It's a few hours before their game and the players are shooting the shit while beginning their stretches. Michael has been so kind to me, and he's even told me about the recent slump the Mets have been in. He's hoping some fresh blood will bring back the mojo for the team.
"Cody! Come over here. I'd love for you to meet Alan, one of our prospects." Michael yelled over to this good looking guy from the opposite side of the dugout. I'm not gay, but even I can tell he's not sleeping alone most nights.
"Sup! I'm Cody. You must be Alan. Michael's told me a lot about you." He shook my hand and gave me a pat on the back. I was enamored and if I'm being honest, a little turned on. My girl would get a kick if she knew I thought that even for a second. I shook it from my head and chalked it up to the star power.
We talked some more and Cody then offered to have me stretch with them. I couldn't believe it, and instantly jumped to join them. I was already in my uniform per Michael's request. I found it strange at first but figured it would help the team picture me among them.
We started with with arm stretches. ""You'll need bigger arms if you hope to be on the team." Cody commented. At that moment I was surprised to see my arms beginning to stretch and bulk. I was freaked out but remained silent as I didn't want to embarrass myself. My arms were twice times the size and I was feeling energy flowing from my arms to my back.
"Maybe even do some lat pulldowns here and there. They really help stabilize your center." Cody continued. He was looking me over while he stretched.
I felt my back start to contract and pull. My back was beginning to fill out my shirt more and I stood up straighter. I began to quietly moan from the pleasure of my abs molding into a carved six pack and my pecs swelling until they were perky. Fuck! What is happening to me?!
I looked over to Cory to see if he noticed the changes. I started to notice just how handsome he was. The fuck? Am I bi? I tried to compare him to my girlfriend but I was having a hard time picturing her. All I could think of was how Cody's arms flexed to fill up his sleeves. Fuck, he was pretty hot.
"Let's see if you can touch your toes. A good base is important. Those hamstrings and glutes are really going to come in handy as well." Cody said as I began to reach for my toes.
Once I tapped my toes I felt my feet begin to expand. Bones started to crack and my shoes were being pushed past their limits. Soon my feet burst through my cleats growing to at least a size 13! I could feel Cody eyeing them lustfully. I started to imagine Codys face in the soles of my feet when the pressure in my cup started increasing. The moan from my mouth was louder now, and I was filling with lust for Cody. I wanted him to peg me down so badly.
My thoughts were interrupted by my legs starting to fill up the remaining space in my pants. The uniform material was stretching to its max and my ass was forming into a round perky bubble butt.
I stood up and began taking the changes in. I was beefy and feeling insanely powerful.
Cody walked over smiling "Looks like you'll give us just the boost we need. All the guys here love to pitch, but you'll make for a solid catcher."
He smacked me on my ass and I almost fell to my knees in pleasure. Fuck, I wanted to show my gratitude for the team so badly. Cody gave me another smack and whispered in my ear "Show me what you've got rookie."
I smiled at my new teammates and showed them what was waiting for them after each game.
The last thing I expected on my 20th birthday was to receive a gift from Cody, my roommate. We were never close, and there was no way in hell he actually knew much about me to know it was my birthday without me telling him. Him and I were basically complete opposites. While I was your typical nerd, smart, introverted, and so on, he was basically your typical jock in all the worst ways. He was boisterous, arrogant, and a total meathead. We mostly agreed to stay out of each others’ way, considering our irreconcilable differences, but that didn’t stop him from being a massive pain in the ass. His room was constantly in a state of disarray, with sweaty clothes scattered all over the place. As such, I often avoided being anywhere near his room if necessary since it smelled like a locker room. He often invited over his “bros” who were just as bad. Whether they were hogging the TV to watch whatever game was on, smuggling alcohol into our dorm to get wasted, or playing catch in the fucking living room, they were always a nuisance. And whenever I brought any of that up to him, he would always end up saying something like “It’s not that serious, dude. We were just having a good time.” Yeah, a good time at my expense. Whoever assigned the two of us to live together must’ve thought this was some twisted joke.
I woke up at 9 AM, still a little tired from last night. I hung out at one of my friends’ dorms to celebrate my birthday. I yawned, and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. I saw Cody was up as well, his legs spread across the couch, to the point that he was taking up two seats, watching something on the TV that was several volume levels too loud for me.
“Hey bro, today’s your birthday right?” Cody asked, as he tilted his head to face me.
“Uhh, yeah. How did you know?” I responded.
“Oh don’t worry about it, bro. Happy birthday!” I saw him get up and run to his disorganized room, likely to grab something for me. I could see a pair of worn gym shorts on the floor through the crack in the door. He pulled out an old Nike shoe box, since he likely had nothing better to put a gift in. “I’ve been saving this for you. I hope you like it!” Is this his way of trying to get on my good side?
I rolled my eyes since I doubt he got me anything I would enjoy. He probably just got me something that he’d enjoy, like some tight-fitting tank top or protein powder or something. Not that I work out or anything. The only gift I’d want from him is for him to stop being a douche. I opened the box and I was surprised about what I saw. It was a video game. Not any that I’d ever heard of. I looked at the box art and the words AlterEgo were written in a wacky, colorful font.
“Yeah, I knew you like video games, so I found this for you. I heard on the internet that it’s pretty nitch…nichy…what’s the word…”
“Niche?” I responded. I had to admit, him struggling to pronounce the word right was a little amusing. As amusing as being with a simpleton like him could be.
“That’s the word! I got it for myself, but I realized like half an hour in that it wasn’t my thing. I’m happy with what I have right now. I figured you’d probably get more out of it than me.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“No problem, dude. Anyways, I gotta hit the gym. I’m gonna be out all day so you have the PS5 all to yourself. Hope you enjoy it bro!”
I watch him leave, thankful to have some peace and quiet. As I ate breakfast, I read the back of the cover in order to figure out what this game was about.
“Become a new you! In this life simulation adventure, you can become any kind of person you want and live any way you choose. Control your fictional avatar, your AlterEgo, and level up your stats to become closer to your true self.”
The game seemed something like The Sims or Animal Crossing, but with some stat progression system. It was a game that I had never heard of, but it could be some hidden gem. The rest of the back was filled with screenshots from the game with the cartoony characters doing activities such as cooking, jogging, and riding a motorcycle. I figured I might as well try the game since I did get it for free. Even if it was from Cody, I wasn’t one to refuse someone’s generosity.
I put the game in the disk slot and booted it up. The title screen had that same logo and some bubbly background music. I pressed the start button and I was presented with a save selection screen. I noticed that Cody’s save was on there, which was odd because I was playing on my account. I knew I should’ve put a password on it. I wanted to make my own character, but part of me was curious about the character that he made. Knowing him, I can only guess. His game time was less than an hour, as he was only on Day 1, and he likely spent most of that time on the character creation screen.
I started his save and my character was sitting in his room. At this point, it was very bare, with only a bed and a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered around the room. I guess the character starts by moving into their new home? I went into the menu to find more information about the character. The character was named Cody obviously and his AlterEgo somewhat matched him too. I went into the stats screen and I was greeted by a tutorial.
“Here you can check your AlterEgo’s stats. You have already set your initial growth modifiers and assigned your base stats. If you need a refresher, whatever stats you chose your AlterEgo to excel at are highlighted in red and the ones you chose to trade off are highlighted in blue. This means that your AlterEgo will grow in the stats in red much faster and prioritize activities that increase those stats and avoid activities associated with increasing your stats in blue. As you play, your AlterEgo will naturally develop into one of hundreds of potential archetypes based on the activities that they excel at. Experiment and see who you become!”
I looked at the stat screen and saw a list of stats with a bar indicating percentage level. The stats included Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, Intelligence, Wisdom, Courage, Charisma, and Luck. Not too far off from DnD I guess. It seemed like he chose to have Strength and Constitution as his highest stats as their font was colored red and Intelligence and Wisdom as his weakest stats as they were colored in blue. Gee, why am I not surprised… Cody was anything but a genius. It seemed like he had 20 initial points to allocate wherever he chose with a default limit of 5. And I was equally not surprised to find that my meathead roommate chose to put 5 in Strength and Constitution again like a barbarian. It’s like all he cared about was his looks and perceived masculinity, even in game.
Strength (physical strength): 5
Constitution (physical build and stamina): 5
Dexterity (agility and flexibility): 2
Intelligence (knowledge): 0
Wisdom (intuition and discipline): 0
Courage (risk-taking and bravery): 3
Charisma (social skills): 3
Luck (good or bad fortune): 2
After looking through his stats, I decided enough was enough and I didn’t really want to go around pretending I was Cody the whole game. I quit out of his save and went back to the title screen. I was back on the save select screen when I became confused. There was still one save, except the name of the character wasn’t Cody…it was mine? The play time was set to 0 minutes. I don’t know how that happened, but if it saves me the trouble of building a character and reading more tutorials, I’m happy.
To my relief, the avatar representing Cody wasn’t there. Instead, a very generic, average character stood in its place in the same room. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was some placeholder account with everything set to the default. Whatever, I can probably change stuff about him later. I decided to move my AlterEgo outside and I was greeted by a map of a large city. I chose an area of the map to explore at random and controlled my new avatar. On the busy city street, there was a cafe, restaurant, and a gym. It was too early for the cafe and restaurant to open, so I guess my only option here is the gym. I’ve never stepped foot in a gym before, but this character doesn’t have to represent me as a whole. Plus, I’d like my character to be well-rounded unlike Cody’s who would probably spend the whole time grinding here.
I went into the gym and had to perform a set of quick-time events. First, I had to do some bench presses. Then some squats. Then finally, run on a treadmill. At the end of it, my AlterEgo did a cartoony celebration and flexed his arms. A pop-up showing that my Strength, Constitution, and Dexterity went up by 1, followed up by another one saying that my Strength and Constitution will double every time I do activities like go to the gym. So it looks like Cody’s modifiers carried over after all despite everything seeming to be the default. That should’ve been the first thing I checked. I didn’t want my character to be specced to be some lumbering brute. I suppose that if I wanted to get my character’s Intelligence and Wisdom, it’d probably be like playing on Hard mode. Honestly, I was open to the challenge.
I was disappointed to find out that it’d be harder than it seemed. When my character got home in the evening, I went into one of his boxes and I was presented with an option to read. I was presented with several options, ranging from comics to full-on novels. I chose the novel since I figured it would raise my Intelligence the best. I watched my AlterEgo try to read the book, but I saw a look of confusion on his face. Eventually, he grew frustrated and threw the book back into the empty box as if he were shooting through a basketball hoop. I expected my Intelligence to stay the same, but no, it actually dropped!
“Sometimes when your AlterEgo fails to complete an activity, their stats can decrease! These stats can even go into the negative. Make sure to keep your stats high because it can become very difficult to increase your stats if they fall below a certain point.”
I couldn’t believe that my character struggled to even read. This guy was nothing like me at all! I hoped that it would be easier to raise my AlterEgo’s Intelligence because I didn’t want him to be a moron. I watched my character fall asleep and I could see into his dream. Another tutorial popped up.
“Sometimes your character will have dreams! These dreams are mostly random, but will also depend on your character’s stats. Just like other activities, you have a chance to increase your stats.”
I watched my character fight in a zombie apocalypse, but the zombies didn’t even look remotely threatening. I succeeded in the activity and my Courage went up by 2 and my Luck and Strength went up by 1. My character wiped his head of sweat as the zombies turned to dust.
The next day, I learned that my AlterEgo can go to school. That was expected, considering my character’s age, only I didn’t realize how hard it would be for him. He was sitting in a desk trying to write down notes. Eventually, like an idiot, he slammed his thick head on his desk and started snoring. This was honestly getting embarrassing. My Intelligence and Wisdom dropped yet again, not by 1, but by 2. If I didn’t do something different, my AlterEgo would basically be a clone of Cody instead of myself. After class, instead of being given an option to go and do something, my AlterEgo is approached by a group of buff men.
Quarterback: Hey new guy, you’re looking pretty strong. Judging from your Strength and Constitution, I think you’d make a good fit for the football team. Your Dexterity and Courage also seem pretty good. Wanna join, bro?
You know who else played football? Cody. I had to keep being reminded of him even when he wasn’t even around. This was my character and I didn’t care about sports, so I clicked the no option. To my surprise, my AlterEgo nodded instead. It's like this game is going out of its way to spite me at this point. Two tutorials popped up.
“If your Wisdom is too low, your AlterEgo might act on their own desires rather than your command. This means that they can sometimes act on their own or select activities that they are more interested in rather than those they are not. Raise your Wisdom or else you will have less freedom when developing your AlterEgo.”
“You have decided to join a club or organization. This will grant you a passive growth to certain stats every week.”
I watched as my AlterEgo walked away with the group of jocks. A football uniform magically appeared over his normal clothes. For joining the football team, I was granted a point in Strength, Constitution, Courage, and Charisma every week, with the usual double for Strength and Constitution.
I kept playing the game, getting frustrated at my AlterEgo’s reluctance to even try to act smart or reasonable. He frequently avoided or skipped intellectual pursuits to focus on those that made him look or feel good. It honestly just felt random whether he wanted to obey me or not. By the end of Day 7, the first week my stats were looking like this.
Strength: 30
Constitution: 28
Dexterity: 10
Intelligence: -20
Wisdom: -15
Courage: 21
Charisma: 17
Luck: 16
My Intelligence and Wisdom seemed unfixable. My AlterEgo wouldn’t even bother to try to read or pay attention at school and he consistently started to make random choices that satisfied his needs as the week progressed. I grew incredibly frustrated at this, but out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was an end to this so I could go back and make my own character. Either way, this game was plagued with questionable design choices. It’s like the AlterEgo was already locked into a specific path. I hoped that I had accidentally skipped a tutorial or something and that I hadn’t softlocked myself out of raising certain stats. Unfortunately, my AlterEgo’s stats continued to grow and drop as I hit Day 30.
Strength: 75
Constitution: 69
Dexterity: 44
Intelligence: -66
Wisdom: -49
Courage: 54
Charisma: 37
Luck: 41
I received another tutorial message on Day 31.
“You look like you are on track to evolve into your archetype very soon! By this point, your AlterEgo’s stats will be locked in place. That will be the end of the main story, but there is still so much to enjoy afterwards!”
I figured I might as well see this through to the end. You know, see how much of an idiot my character can become. Despite my efforts, all my AlterEgo does now is work out, practice and go to games, and go to parties, outside of necessities. His Intelligence is so low that he rarely even goes to school anymore and that has caused his intelligence to plummet to the bottom. I played for even longer, eventually hitting Day 60. Turns out that this is the day I would discover my AlterEgo’s archetype.
“Congratulations on making it this far. I hope you are excited to find out your archetype, because I know I am! Remember that these changes are permanent, so there will no longer be ways to increase or decrease your stats.”
I watched my AlterEgo marched onto the stage and I was able to view my final stats and a rating of each of them. The descriptions seemed to be heavily based on my other stats, and trust me, they were very satirical, and in my case, very scathing.
Strength: 100
I’d give this an A+. I’m not even sure if you are human anymore. I’ve seen you lift things that no normal man could, not because you have to, but because you want to. You spend more time at the gym than you do at your own house and you might give The Hulk a run for his money.
Constitution: 100
You also get an A+. Your months of training at the gym have given you a perfect, chiseled body that looks like it could be made out of iron. You have a seemingly endless supply of testosterone and your stamina (in more ways than one, it seems) cannot be beaten.
Dexterity: 75
This gets a B. You are very athletic and quick on your feet despite your appearance. However, your large size means that you can be pretty clumsy and you’ve probably broken more things than you’d like to admit.
Intelligence: -100
I’ll just go along with your teachers and give you a big fat F. Are you even trying? I worry that there’s not a single thought going around in your thick skull. You care very little for anything intellectual or sophisticated, not that you even know what those words mean.
Wisdom: -90
Likewise, you also get another big fat F. Were you dropped on your head when you were a baby or did you take too many tackles to your cranium? You have incredibly poor judgment and you only make decisions that satisfy your brutish desires. In short, you often act before you think. Your lack of discipline is only matched by your lack of brain cells. As long as you’re having fun, should I really care what you do with your life?
Courage: 90
I’d give this an A, but not an A+. Because your brain moves too slow to process any risk, you often think before you act. You often find yourself in the most dangerous of situations and you often perform incredibly stupid stunts. When you’re on the field, you’re a risk taker, and at least it usually pays off. On the bright side, you always come out unscathed, so I can commend that.
Charisma: 70
I’d give this a B-. Being on the football team and being very attractive is going to place a lot of eyes on you, but they are all focused on your body because everything else you have to offer is very superficial. I wonder if you surround yourself with people who think and act the same as you do or if people keep you around to laugh at every stupid word that comes out of your mouth.
Luck: 80
Lastly, you get a B. Your luck genuinely amazes me sometimes. Despite everything, despite your lack of any intellectual thought or reasoning, you have survived long enough to make it this far in life. This alone proves that life favors some over others. If there is room for the concept of a higher power in your shrunken headspace, then they probably feel a sense of amusement at the state of you bumbling around through life with only your good looks and muscles salvaging you.
“What do you think? Are you happy with your results? Anyhow, it’s time to reveal your archetype. It’s who you are and who you will be from now on! Drumroll please… (As if it wasn’t obvious enough…) You, my friend, are…THE JOCK!”
The Jock
You are likely an athlete or bodybuilder and you likely care little for intellectual thought. You enjoy playing and watching sports and working out above anything else. You are hyper-masculine, aggressive, arrogant, and egotistical. However, you are also very muscular, tall, athletic, popular, and handsome. You feel a deep sense of camaraderie with anyone you consider your bro, which mostly includes other jocks like yourself. Your wardrobe mostly consists of tank tops, jerseys, varsity jackets, shorts, sweatpants, jockstraps, baseball caps, sneakers, and everything in between. Because of your high testosterone and your above average genitals, you are viewed as a desirable partner and often partake in sexual activities with members of the opposite sex, and sometimes even other men depending on the person and situation. Your most likely career path is as an athlete or coach, but as long as it doesn’t require too much deep thinking, you could probably find a job anywhere with your connections and attractiveness. Enjoy your new self!
I watched my AlterEgo vanish within a cloud of smoke and come out a cartoonish representation of your average stereotypical jock with blonde hair and a very lunkish, yet admittedly impressive build. He looked around, clearly disoriented, with a dull, confused look on his face before flexing with a cheesy, confident smirk on his face. The audience cheered and clapped at this ridiculous personification of a walking stereotype as if they were watching a magic show. Honestly, it was almost amusing how the description it gave for “me” couldn’t possibly be more wrong. It sounded like everything Cody was, not me. Although I guess I was playing with his settings, not by choice I will add, but I had little control over how my AlterEgo decided to live its life. I just wish I could get him off my mind for just one day. Either way, I found myself incredibly dissatisfied with my new AlterEgo, but I accidentally found out a way to make things even worse for me. I just wanted to scroll through the remaining text to get to the credits, since I have been playing for 8 hours by now, when I saw a selection that would seal my fate.
“Are you satisfied with your result? Now that you’ve discovered who you truly are, are you ready to be The Jock in the real world? WARNING: If you select Yes, your save will be deleted as a result. These changes are permanent. If you click No, you can continue playing after the credits.”
I accidentally clicked Yes as I was mashing through the text. What the hell was I thinking?! I had no idea that this would change the entire trajectory of my life. At first I felt nothing, as the screen faded to black. Then, I saw the credits start to roll, playing a remix of the joyful title screen music, and that’s when I started to feel all warm inside and I felt a painful shock come from my controller.
I felt a sudden wave of pain rush through my body as my bones started to crack and shift in my body and my muscles began to inflate like balloons. I looked at the credits and noticed that the new jock AlterEgo was doing the things he normally enjoyed doing in the background. But I couldn’t really concentrate on it as I found myself focusing down below. My legs stretched and stretched until I was around 6’4. My feet grew to a size 15 and my thick glutes and ass made me sink deeper into the couch from their weight. The fat in my stomach felt like it was melting as it left behind nothing more than a layer of sweat and a firm six pack of abs. My upper chest formed into a round set of bouncy pecs. Likewise, my biceps and triceps were almost the size of my head now and my soft hands became rough and covered in calluses from intense lifting. I felt my clothes cling tightly to my body as if they were two sizes too small, and they’d easily rip if my body grew any more. My shirt fit more like a crop top on me and my clothes were damp from pit and ass sweat.
I felt my long hair recede into my head until it formed into a shorter cut that was much easier to maintain. As it did that, my chestnut-colored locks lightened into a golden blonde. My soft, round eyes became more sharp and masculine and I could feel them turn from a chocolate brown into an icy shade of blue. My youthful face lost most of its baby fat and buried beneath it was nothing more than the chiseled edges of my jawline. The lower half of my face, which used to be soft and hairless, was now covered in a prickly lawn of stubble. Even my pasty skin turned a shade tanner from the years I spent in the sun throwing balls around. I noticed that my entire body started to sweat profusely to the point that I could smell my own musk and I became absorbed by my new-found masculine scent. I could smell the testosterone that was pumping through my veins like a drug. I felt powerful, dominant, virile, and dare I say it, good… Lastly, I found my lips contort into an obnoxious, conceited smirk. Was I…enjoying this? Judging from the growing feeling in my groin, I was led to believe that I was. And it kept growing and growing and growing…
All the while, the credits continued to play and the happy-go-lucky music felt like it was mocking my painful situation. Despite the strange pleasure I felt, it was only a distraction as my body still writhed in pain through the whole process while I changed entirely into a real life manifestation of my AlterEgo. What the hell is this game? I noticed that the jock avatar stared directly towards the screen, as if he was breaking the fourth wall, and started to walk closer and closer before vanishing from his virtual prison for good. The lively credits started to simmer down, giving the screen a more empty and disquieting feeling. That was the last thing I noticed before I felt a sharp headache ring through my head. I am usually fine playing games for a long period of time so why…Why did my roommate buy me this game anyways, bro? If he was gonna buy me any game, he should’ve gotten me the new CoD or Madden game, not this weird shit. I had to admit, it was kinda addicting. I liked being able to work out or play sports even when I’m at home. Wait, what was that? I felt like I just heard another voice in my head, both sounding similar yet different to my own. Eventually he called out directly to me.
“Hey bro, it’s me. Your AlterEgo. You know, the real you. It’s been fun, dude. Now I get to enter the real world, isn’t that sick? So here’s what’s gonna happen, dude. I am currently inside your mind and I’m making the final changes to turn you into the person you were always meant to be. That’s right dude, we are becoming one singular person in both body and mind. Don’t try to struggle or fight back. You know I’m stronger than you. There’s no going back. So, are you ready to become one with your true self?
No…I thought to myself. I wasn’t a jock. I was never a jock. I’m nothing like my AlterEgo. This is a mistake. This was Cody’s AlterEgo, not mine!
“Chill out, bro. I know you read the warning and you clicked Yes, so you obviously knew the risk. Why did you keep playing if you knew you’d become a jock regardless of the decisions you made? Because you are one deep down. Or maybe you secretly wanted to be one. Maybe you wanted to see what life was like on the other side. Maybe this Cody guy wanted you to try out this save, you know, to see what would happen... Whatever reasoning, it really doesn’t matter dude. I know you can feel me taking over your mind. You’re finding it harder to think. Soon you’ll be The Jock, me. I just wish you realized a little sooner who you really were…”
I felt my brain starting to shut off and my vision starting to become blurry as my AlterEgo took it over. I don’t even know how any of this is possible, even by today’s standards. An AI buried deep within the game was taking over my body and mind entirely, reshaping me in his image. But I continued to resist, to cling onto whatever parts of my personality I could. However, as I felt my mind sink deeper and deeper into this mental void, I felt myself slowly becoming more and more like The Jock. The archetype that was decided on, not by me, but for me. Until that’s all I was.
Everything turned black for a few seconds. I slowly regained consciousness as my brain rebooted itself. Wait…what’s a reboot? I sat and watched the credits with a dim look on my face as it finally ended. I was booted back to the title screen and saw that my save was indeed deleted. This was proof that my AlterEgo was now a part of me and that he was finally whole. I pulled out my phone wanting to learn more about this game, because, dude, it was kinda fucking weird. By scrolling, I couldn’t find much, but I did discover a post from not too long ago on some ancient forum site that was probably made in the early 2000s.
“Is The Game AlterEgo Real?”
“I’ve heard rumors about this game called AlterEgo, but I have very little information on it. It’s said to be incredibly dangerous and could lead to permanent bodily and mental changes. Throughout all of my research, I could not find any copy of the game for sale, nor any definitive proof that it’s real or any information on the company that developed it. If you have any information on this game, please let me know.”
I skimmed through the forum page, not that interested in reading what everyone had to say. Who has time for that anyways? But I did find one reply that caught my eye.
“I can confirm with certainty that AlterEgo does exist. My friend received it as a gift for Christmas and he wouldn’t stop talking about it to me. It’s like he was addicted. A week later, when I saw him next, I could barely even recognize him. His body had grown and changed greatly and he didn’t act like his usual self. I even feel like his memories might be a little distorted. I tried checking his house to find the game in order to figure out what it was all about, but I don’t think he has it anymore. He probably sold it or gave it away since he said he finished it. No matter what, he won’t tell me. If there are any other copies of the game left, please let me know.”
Woah, so this game is fucking weird, dude. Wasn’t just me. I just played it right? But I don’t feel any different. You know, I bet these nerds would pay a lot for a chance to find out about this game. Maybe they might come out as different people. I’ll put it up on eBay for a high price. One of those dweebs just has to take the bait. I wouldn’t mind a little cash though. I’d feel bad for selling Cody’s gift, but just imagine what I could get with that much money.
“Hey bro, you still in here dude?” I heard a familiar voice shout as they opened the door.
“Yo Cody, there you are. What’s up dude?” I was happy to see him. Cody was my roommate and my best friend. We were practically inseparable. When he made eye contact with me, his eyes widened. I couldn’t really blame him for being impressed with my awesome body.
“You beat that game I gave you already?” He seemed surprised, yet almost impressed.
“Yeah, it’s not usually my type, but I enjoyed it dude.”
“Do you…feel any different, bro?” Cody sounded kinda hesitant there. Had he read about the rumors too? I don’t see why he’d have to worry. None of those rumors are true anyways.
“Nah, same as I’ve always been.”
“Alright, good. I was just making sure you were down to get some food. You should be out partying and celebrating your birthday, not playing some nerdy video game. And trust me, I know all the good spots.”
“You’re right bro. I haven’t gotten enough exercise in today. Let’s go.”
“Wait, before you go, your clothes are so sweaty dude. You should change.”
“Oh shit, good idea.”
“Y-you can just wear one of my clothes. They’d probably fit you better.” He was right. As I soon realized, someone shrunk all my clothes as part of a prank.
Me and Cody went to a sports bar to watch the game. If I remember correctly, this was our favorite spot to get food, except you know, anywhere that lets me hit my macros. Since it was my birthday, he even paid for the whole meal. I don’t remember how long I’ve known him, but couldn’t ask for a better bro. On the way home, Cody grabbed a six pack of beer from the frat house and brought it to our dorm to drink the night away. I wasn’t old enough to drink, but it’s not like I never had alcohol before. And besides, today was basically my cheat day.
We got wasted while we watched TV, and we did some things that I probably wouldn’t admit to anyone but him. I couldn’t help it though. I hadn’t gotten laid all weekend and it was my birthday. Quite frankly, I deserved it. Thankfully Cody took one for the team. He said it wasn’t weird because we’ve definitely done it before and that it was our secret. I had to give him credit. His tight hole is better than most girls’. I didn’t know he was a bottom until tonight. I also didn’t remember having a dick this big, but you don’t see me complaining. After all was said and done, I passed out drunk next to him in his bed, our bodies drenched in sweat and each other’s fluids, as I enjoyed the bromance I have with my best bro. This was the best birthday ever.
The next day, I got up extra early to go for a run despite my hangover. Afterwards I went to school, but like usual, I struggled to pay attention. It was like my mind was in a constant fog. My grades are slipping and this football scholarship is the only thing keeping me from dropping out entirely. After classes, I joined Cody and the others at practice. Throughout the day, I kept getting this feeling of uh…dayjah voo? That word that means that you feel like you’ve done something before. I wasn’t exactly sure where it was coming from. I shrugged it off. I was just a jock and I didn’t need to worry about stuff like that.
When I got home, I got an offer for the game Cody gave me. You know, AlterEgo. Some nerd seriously offered $1000 for it. I didn’t actually know it was that rare. I hope he enjoys it more than I did. I’ll sure enjoy the 1000 dollars. I bet he’ll love passing it around to all his other geeky friends. I wonder what their AlterEgos might look like…
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.