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jockbroski34 · 5 days

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The Bro Cap

Biology was my favorite class this semester. Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore. He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school. Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was. He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball. He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys. A lot of guys wished they could be him. I, however, wanted to be with him. Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind. At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.

I often found myself getting distracted by him. Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle. His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place. His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school. He didn’t come off like the rest of them though. His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks. He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked. Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried. It was no wonder why he was so popular.

Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin. I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention. It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating. The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class. Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him. He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.

“Correct! I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled. “You always look like you’re off in your own little world. But you still manage to do well. You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.” Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies. Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s. He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.

The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed. All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework. He helped clarify things for me thankfully. I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.

“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you? That’s his hat, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, I always see him wear it.” It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.

“Do you know if you can bring it to him today? If not, I can keep it here until next class.”

“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next. I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.” I don’t know why I said that. We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were. I’m also not on the baseball team. Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.

Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom. He was probably long gone anyways. After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat. I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used. I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on. Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again. I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it. It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s. It’s not like he had lice or anything. What’s the worst that could happen?

And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would. Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped. The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping. The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened. My watch skipped a tick. But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked. I had to admit, I looked really good in it. I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league. Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face. A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me. Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore. I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.

After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra. I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out. I must’ve lost track of time. As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason. I never used to make much of an impression on most people. I was quiet and had only a couple friends. Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.

“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?” the teacher remarked. Very funny. I always showed up on time. I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right. My body squeezed tight into the desk. I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler. Weird. Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.

The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative. I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering. I still felt a couple of their eyes on me. I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room. She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends. Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion. She was cute, but definitely out of my league. I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.

Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today. Something must be wrong. The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache. I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne. I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.

Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch. I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.

Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food. Wanna come with?

Normally, we always got lunch at the same time. But for some reason, I didn’t really want to? That’s weird for me. I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.

Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude

I didn’t text like that normally. Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name. They were two jocks. I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot. What did they want? I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind. Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.

“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym. Wanna come with?” the other jock asked me. Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.

Were they serious? Did these jocks actually think I was one of them? I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed. Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys. My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them. For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time. I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before. They were really chill.

I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends. I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me. Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks? It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.

I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.

Bryan: My bad. Thought you were someone else. He must’ve given me the wrong number.

Was this some kind of prank? He obviously knew my number. Of course he knows who I am. Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks. I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends. You know, my real friends. I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed. Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.

We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein. I swear I almost never eat this much. The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself. But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them? I had class soon. But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros. I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them. As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.

I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym. I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts. To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine. I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift. It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner. By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class. But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.

“Later, Moore.”

Must’ve been a slip of the tongue. There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron. At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him. Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself. He could always just get another one, right? I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.

In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear. Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that. I shrugged it off. They can stare all they want for all I care. I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen. If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with. But in such a short amount of time? With no prior lifting experience? That was impossible.

I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today. All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later? I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period. Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave. I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who? Aaron Moore.

“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?” he asked.

“Practice?”

“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy! You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude. Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”

“Yeah, you’re right, bro. My bad.” I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with. But as I looked at him, I realized something. He was wearing his hat! But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it? “I thought you lost your hat. How are you wearing it?”

“I was wearing my hat all day, dude. One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do. But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up. You’ll impress the ladies.” But I was gay. And I’ve only had this hat for a day. If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine? I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.

As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other. Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out. Was it because we were going to practice? I’ve never played baseball in my life. Nah, that can’t be right. I feel like I’ve swung a bat before… We went into the locker room to change. I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.

My reflection wasn’t there. Someone else’s was. Someone much stronger and much taller than me. That wasn’t me. It was Aaron Moore.

No, except it wasn’t an exact match. There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron. This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall. I walked closer. “Aaron” walked closer. I moved my hand to feel my face. So did “Aaron”. A dull, confused look appeared on his face. Had I really become him? But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing. Then who am I? Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier? I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.

Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name. That’s…Aaron’s? Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married. As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.

Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday. I knew my birthday, and it was in January. Don’t tell me…Are we…?

I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror. It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream. It was like I was his twin! Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters. At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed. Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis. I realized that this all started when I wore his hat. I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder. My bro…I mean Aaron.

“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro? Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me. I think it runs in the blood, you know. You like that, right?” He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head. I nodded. I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection. I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body. At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.

“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin. The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together. This is all you ever wanted, right?” He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him. Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong. But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.

“Yeah bro. This shit’s the life, dude.” I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that. The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro. I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood. As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…

“That’s right…Just let it happen… I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back? During senior year?”

“Fuck yeah, bro. I remember.” But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right? I know I have.

“You know you were the reason we won, right? One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game. I’ve never been more proud of you bro.” Aaron patted me on the back. I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it. That year, our baseball team was the best in the state. And I…led our team to a championship? As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real. But why was he reminding me of this now?

“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”

As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away. Turns out that I was the brother he never had. We were a pair. We complemented each other perfectly. I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school. I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro? That’s gay as shit. And weird. This was my own twin we were talking about. Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too. After all, no girl can resist either one of us.

“So the hat is working…” Aaron whispered under his breath.

“What hat?”

“Nothing, bro! I was just saying how good your hat looks on you. Come on, let’s go.” I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.

From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother. Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as. Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock. I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic. Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree. But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school. I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this. But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times. I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.

Two days later, I had biology again. I remembered I kinda struggled with this class. I sat behind my bro as usual. I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework. I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class. When I asked him, he wouldn’t say. It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me. We practically knew everything about each other after all. After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.

“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you. Is everything alright? Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”

“Never felt better, bro. I think I was just up too late partying the other day. And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.” I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.

“Good, good.” Mr. Martin smiled. “I won’t leave you too long. I know you two have your hands full with practice today. Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see. It suits you well, Aiden.” I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left. Mr. Martin was always cool. I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here. I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what? I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.

What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros. I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways. Probably nothing important. As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school. I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.

At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights. All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift. Must run in the blood. After school, I went to practice with Aaron. We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer. We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition. Man, this was the life. I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.

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jockbroski34 · 9 days

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

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jockbroski34 · 10 days

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kyle

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jockbroski34 · 12 days

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jockbroski34 · 14 days

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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.

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jockbroski34 · 14 days

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jockbroski34 · 15 days

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jockbroski34 · 19 days

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Lucky

Back at it again with @mrrharper

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

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

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

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

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

I frowned, “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh…done what?” I asked slowly.

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

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

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

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

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

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

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

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

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

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jockbroski34 · 21 days

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jockbroski34 · 22 days

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jockbroski34 · 22 days

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Be of Service

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.”

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jockbroski34 · 22 days

Text

Mandatory PE Class

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" he simply asked, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reality turned out weirder than he expected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

dude concentrate ffs - big dog jake#7

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

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

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

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

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

Wait.

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

How did he know the Lions' schedule?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was not happening.

This was just a dream.

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

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

He made himself a protein shake with added creatine.

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

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

He sent a message on the group chat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where was he?

He didn't remember waking up.

He didn't remember dressing up.

He didn't remember coming here.

Where was he?

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

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

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

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

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

Jersey. Number 90. Schoeder. His name.

Shoulder pads.

Cleats.

Condoms.

Gym gear.

It all reeked of sweat.

So fuckin' musky.

Huhuhuhuh, a proper jock's smell, bro

bro

bruh

WHAT!?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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jockbroski34 · 26 days

Text

Thanksgiving Football

Justin sat on his phone. He was so bored waiting for everyone else to start arriving for the thanksgiving dinner. His dad had put the football game on their TV but Justin wasn’t really interested in it. Sports just wasn’t his thing. Everyone in the family knew it. Just looking at his out of shape body was enough of a signal that most people didn’t even need to ask. He wasn’t severely overweight but a belly had started to grow on his skinny frame. Bigger clothes had helped hide it somewhat but it was getting noticeable again.

“Sup big guy,” Cameron tossed a football at his chest. With a loud ‘oof’ Justin was able to catch it. It wasn’t a hard throw but enough to get Justin’s attention. The college football stud didn’t like to be ignored. “Gettin ready for the game! It’s supposed to be a good one!”

“I guess,” Justin just rolled his eyes at the thought. He just kept flipping through his phone as the game played out in front of him. Part of him had always been a little jealous of his cousin. The big guy could light up just about any room and was the size of a tank. People looked up to him literally and figuratively. Being jealous was almost just natural.

“Come on man! Give me some enthusiasm,” Cameron was goading him. He knew how much Justin hated football. “You know I’ve got just the thing,” Cameron pulled out his phone and started flipping through it. The jock wasn’t known to do something like this. Even if his numerous girlfriends were texting him, he tried to keep the attention to the person right in front of him.

It was enough to catch Justin’s attention. He looked at his cousin a bit oddly. “What do you mean by that?” Just asked. But suddenly felt something really off about his body. He wasn’t sure what it was but something felt a little strange. He opened up his legs a little bit and leaned forward. For some reason his body felt hot. His shirt was sticking to his body. ‘Am I sweating?’ he realized. Pulling at the fabric it felt wet. “Hey Cam…” he panted. “I don’t feel so good…”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll feel great in just a second,” Cameron was still smiling about something. Justin didn’t know what it would have been though. He was too busy looking over his body trying to figure out what was happening to it. Sweat was really starting to pour out onto his clothes. He could see visible wet spots around his chest and pants.

“What’s…” he grunted. “What’s that mean?” Another grunt escaped his mouth. His whole body suddenly convulsed. He fell down onto the couch, writhing at the suddenly sensation overtaking his body. It was something he’d never known before. His muscles felt so strange. It was like they were going through some kind of intense workout. He didn’t know the feeling too well but enough to know what it was like to be tired. His muscles was going into overtime. They just kept contracting and expanding. Over and over. Contracting and expanding.

The first thing to go was his shoes as the front of his feet pushed out in front of the soles. The size 10 shoes were far too small for what his feet were becoming. The rubber and fabric bent around his feet and eventually dropped to the ground. His socks stretched against the bigger feet. His now bigger hands gripped a pillow tightly feeling his jeans and graphic tee pull even tighter around his body. He could hear some part of it starting to tear. Little by little he could feel constricted by his clothing. It was holding him back. With it on he couldn’t grow. He writhed more trying to squeeze out of it.

His shirt pulled at his chest and shoulders while his jeans would barely hold in his thick muscular butt. But it was his thighs that was going to free his bottom half. Their thick, strong nature tore apart the denim at the seams. One seam popped. Then another. Then another 5 then it just tore straight down his legs revealing their massive size. “Fuck…” he groaned. The shirt had raised up showing off the bottom abs surrounding his belling button. It was pulling even tighter against his chest. Two thick pecs weren’t enough to tear it apart. Neither were his 17 inch arms. It wasn’t long before they’d reached 18. Then 19. Then 20. “FUCK!” He let out a muffled scream into the pillow and a flex busting the shirt. The soft fabric didn’t stand a chance against his dense body.

Justin stood up and looked at his cousin. He was only about 2 inches shorter than him now. “How ya feeling?” Cameron grinned.

“Bro. I feel fuckin great!” Justin said excitedly. For a second he tried to think about how he would have normally said it. But all he could do was criticize that part of himself as an aloof idiot. “Da fuck? Why can’t I fucking remember anything?” he asked. Justin wasn’t trying to curse. It just came out naturally. “All I can think about is football and working out!” But those thoughts filled him with joy. If anything he was even more ready for Thanksgiving dinner to load up on carbs and protein. It was the perfect cheat day.

“Sorry that’s part two,” Cameron said. “I got used to it too. Don’t worry. You’ll love it.” He got up from his chair and measured himself next to Justin. Of course he had to be bigger but Justin would hate it. It’d drive them both to working out and training for even more size. “Girls are going to be all over you now!” he slapped Justin’s tight back.

“Huh?” Justin looked down trying to go back to his phone but once he saw the football he grabbed it. “Let’s go play man! I’ve been sitting around all day!”

Cameron got up from the couch. “Yeah!” he cheered, beating his chest. “Let’s go fucking play!” Then realized what he was looking at. “Maybe you should go get some clothes on first though. It’s family today. Don’t think there’s any girls you’re trying to impress now.”

Justin looked down realizing his body wasn’t covered. “Shit man. Completely forgot…”

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jockbroski34 · 28 days

Text

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jockbroski34 · 1 month

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Waiting For The Roommate

Max sat in the passenger seat of his roommate's truck, waiting for Buck, who needed to quickly come back to their dorm room. As he waited he took off his tank top, it was fuckin' hot inside. He rolled down the window to get some fresh inside the car.

As he stuck his head out the window to breathe in some fresh air he saw some nerd approach him. He was wearing a dark brown button-down shirt and had a stack of papers in his hand.

"Max, is that you?" The nerd asked, looking at him. A smile appeared on his face.

"uhhhhhhhh... dude, do i know ya?" He asked, convincing himself not to call the guy a loser or a nerd. Coach said he had to get better at dealing with strangers.

"Max, it's me - Michael. We went to high school together!" The other guy replied, clearly convinced that they knew each other. High school? Max's head was covered with a fog, he couldn't conjure up any specific memories from high school.

"you sure bro?"

"Damn, Max, we had like half our classes together!" The nerd was getting a bit frustrated for some reason. "We talked about going to the same uni, and so much more! And now you say you don't know me?"

Max tried to focus. High school, friends, classes, college. It felt like his brain was fighting against him, a thick fog covering everything. His thoughts began turning towards his next workout. Damn, he'll be doing arms and chest. Yea-- Holy shit, he knew that guy!

"oh fuck, mike, yeah, of course, how are you brah?" Max extended his hand for Mike to bump, but he just awkwardly looked at it. Max ignored it.

"Oh my god, for a moment I thought you weren't joking" A half-hearted laugh escaped Mike's mouth. Max just grinned. "I'm fine, settled into college life. Found a study group--" Mike continued talking but Max didn't register another word. He was this guy's good bro - apparently - but that didn't mean he would be able to tolerate that nerd bullshit. He was made for different things than studying - like workin' out with his best bro Buck.

"Anyway" Mike looked straight at Max, whose attention came back. "How was your first year. You look... like a different person!"

"what you mean bruh?" Max asked. What did that ner-- what did Mike mean? Different? He was always a badass jock.

"I mean, you're jacked! In high school you hated gym class, and here you are, buff and all."

"dude, am like, ya know, a real bro, dude. gotta be jacked as hell" He responded and flexed his right arm, his biceps moving and bulging under his skin.

"I mean, that's quite the change. Like, we kinda lost contact after the summer, and you didn't give any sign of life, and I thought... but you're here!" Mike was clearly excited and Max smiled. Wait, what was this dude's deal? He was textin' and talkin' with a nerd like that? Nah, this didn't make sense... where the fuck was Buck where he needed him!

"huhuhuhuhuhuh, yeah bruh" Max just chuckled like the dumb jock he was, he didn't know what to say. He shifted in his seat and scratched his armpit.

"Anyway" Mike went on "how was your first year in college? Were you able to get into that engineering program you've talked about?"

Engineeri-- what? "huhuhuh bro, are you high dude, i ain't here for some weird soundin' shit like that bro. am here to get drunk, work out and crush State, fuck yeah duhuhuhuh." Oh yeah, Max remembered the last game they played, State's lame ass defence couldn't stop the brute force of their offensive line. And the look on their faces when their WR1 tore a muscle in his leg... fuckin' priceless dude!

Mike was clearly not prepared for that answer, which Max found weird, cause he thought his jacked bod was proof enough that he wasn't a stupid nerd.

"Wait, so..." He was clearly confused "if you're not doing engineering then what is your major?"

"major?" Max had no idea what that guy meant... Major... what was a major... Coach talked to him about something like that... It was something along the lines of... "uhhhhh, general ed? dunno bro, never really been a guy to focus on shit."

"What, general education?" Mike seemed shocked. "But, like... I don't understand, Max, you... You said you wanted that, so that you could do a PhD... Why did you change your mind... Like, really, why did you change so much?!"

All that talk 'bout changes made Max's head spin a little bit. Like, what changes? He's been a fuckin' bro since he came here, got a room with Buck, cause before that-- his brain again began filling with fog, his thoughts slowing down to a halt, but not before he blurted out a response.

"duuuuude, like, bro, ive been a real bruh, like, forever dude, duuuuuuuh, like i got my bro Buck, and he got me to Coach, and uhhhhhhhhh, ya know, he worked on me and huhuhuh--" and his mind went blank, a dumb grin stuck on his face.

"What do you mean? A coach 'worked on' you? That sounds... concerning, you know that, right?" Mike adjusted his glasses and looked at Max, clearly concerned.

But Max... Max's brain had shut off. He was sitting in the passenger seat of his best bro Buck's truck, chuckling like a dumb idiot and drooling slightly.

"duhuhuhuhuhuh, duuuude... fuckin' hot today brah, gotta get that pump huhuhuhuh" He flexed his arm and touched his bulging biceps.

"Jesus, did they do something to you? Did you have some traumatic head injury?" Mike leaned on the car, looking inside the vehicle to see what was happening with Max. "God, did they brainwash you? You're a completely different person... and a dumb jock!"

It took a while for Max's fog-covered brain to register what the nerd said. And before he even began formulating a response Buck approached the car.

Buck was wearing a loose tank top that revealed his broad shoulders and giant guns, while also showing off his chest. His shorts, like second skin on his thick thighs, left nothing to imagination with his bulge clearly visible. He was a jock. An alpha. Max's best bro.

"duuude, ya won't believe the chick i saw while gettin' out of the dorm--" He started speaking as he opened the door on the driver's side, but then he noticed Mike standing by Max's window. "ey bruh, who's that loser?"

"huh?" Max turned to Buck, his grin disappearing and his his brow now furrowed. "i... dunno, bro..."

Buck and Mike looked at each other for a moment, the first one annoyed, the second slightly terrified.

"get away from the car" Buck barked as he sad down in front of the steering wheel.

"Wait, please, just a moment, you know what happened to Max? Pleas i just want to--"

"Go away, you fuckin' nerd" was the response Mike got. He took a step away from the car but didn't go away. Meanwhile Max realized what was happening. Some nerd was disturbing them and not listening to Buck's commands. And that wasn't the right thing to do. He turned his head to face the nerd.

"why you starin' at me, nerd" Max growled. His mind, completely covered by the fog, was now following Buck's lead. And Buck didn't like the nerd. So Max didn't like the nerd.

"Max, what... what happened?" Terror shifted into confusion as Mike tried to comprehend Max's sudden change in mood.

"oh, just fuck off, loser" Max responded and Buck took that as a sign. He turned the engine on and drove away, leaving Michael alone in the parking lot.

"uhhhhhh, do we know this guy?" Max asked a few minutes later. "that nerd form before?"

"nah, bro, of course not. we're real jocks, we're not gonna fraternize with fuckin' losers." Buck let our a low and dumb laugh. "by the way, tomorrow we're gonna get ya to Coach for a check up, just in case"

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