#dumber
Someone expressed a desire for a master list of the entire Lifting Up and Dumbing Down story series. As per that request, I present to you this table of contents. Enjoy! :D
At the request of a new Patron, instead of a custom story, he desired the next chapter in this commission series to be published. In accordance with that request, I am now publishing the next chapter of The School of Buff Jocks.
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Chapter One
—————————————————————-
“Great job!”
“You’re doing great!”
“NICE AND SLOW.KEEP PUSHING.”
I furrowed my brow as I finished my set at the leg press and passed over to Andrews. “Is it just me, or does Jim sound … different?”
“It’s part of his design,” Andrews explained as he logged in. “The better you perform, the bigger he gets and the deeper his voice becomes.”
The avatar for Jim that appeared looked more like Atlas or some other giant. His skin or whatever that surface was called looked shinier and seemed to have gained more graphic definition. Had there been a patch recently?
“Welcome back, Coach Andrews. Are you ready to resume your teacher training?”
Andrews shook his head. “Another time, Jim. I’m here to work out.”
Jim nodded. “Linking to machine now. Please don’t forget to finish your module. It is important to learn and grow, so that you may better teach.”
“I won’t forget,” he promised. “Remind me when the workout is over.”
“Your reminder is set. Now let’s get to work.”
“So, when am I sup-posed to notice the difference?” I rubbed my throat and drank some of my protein shake. Those cracks were happening more and more often.
“You’re not,” Andrews said as he pushed against the press. “At least, most people don’t. Either that or they don’t care. I’m not sure which. Stone explained it to me once. It’s basically meant to help students adapt to the idea of their voices deepening as they get older. The farther along they get in their education, the bigger Jim gets, the deeper his voice becomes, and, as a result, the more natural it feels for them to let their voices drop when the time comes.”
“Because they’re talking to someone else whose voice is deepening with them?”
“Exactly,” Andrews said. The veins on his legs had begun to stand out as he continued to push. “In other words, you don’t have to worry so much about social awkwardness.”
“What about late bloomers?”
Andrews shrugged. “They get there when they get there. You know how strict we are here about bullying, Derek. We don’t like it and we don’t tolerate it in any form. We’re all part of one big team. Players who don’t understand that will either learn or get tossed out. It’s that simple.”
—————————————————–
Stone’s smirk was smug as he folded a leg casually and peered at me. “Forgive me for sounding so juvenile, but I told you so.”
“Look, Mister Stone—”
“Please, call me Coach.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Coach Stone. Just because I made friends with Kyle doesn’t mean I’m over what happened to me before.”
“But you haven’t had any more of those nightmares since,” he noted. “And even if you haven’t completely overcome your past, this is a definite sign of progress. You’re beginning to see one of the most important truths any of you children can learn, the fact that people are people, and each should be judged on an individual basis, rather than being lumped into a social stereotype or clique.
“Take you, for example.” He pointed his pen at me. “You would be considered the stereotypical nerd. You enjoy things like anime, comics, manga, videogames, and other products of that genre. You do relatively well in school, and you don’t cause trouble. However, lately, you’ve also been branching out into other areas, like the gym and outdoors. And you’re comfortable wearing more than just baggy clothes. Your stereotypical nerd wouldn’t be able to do that, or rather wouldn’t have any desire to. And yet, you seem to enjoy it, or at least not hate it so violently as your stereotype would suggest.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that those stereotypes have roots in truth. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be stereotypes in the first place.”
“Perhaps, but it also doesn’t change the fact that in this case, in this time, that stereotype has yet to fully apply, and you know that and acknowledge it on at least some level. It’s that simple.”
“For you, maybe. Not for me.” I shook my head.
“Then it seems to me that the next stage of your therapy is clear. Observe. Look at the behavior of the ones you mistrust, these stereotypical jocks, and see if they really do act in the way you’ve been treated previously. If they don’t, then you’ll see that the stereotype is far from absolute, and hopefully have less aversion toward being in the same space as them on your own.”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath, if I were you.”
Stone smiled. “I think I can manage.” He lowered his pad. Anyway, that’s it for our session today. I have another appointment who should be—” A knock sounded at the door. “And there he is. We’ll pick up again next week. Don’t forget to try what I suggest, Derek. I think you’ll be surprised at what you may find.”
We shook hands, a ritual Stone insisted on as part of his attempts to bond with me. Then he escorted me to the door. You ever heard of getting caught between a rock and a hard place? Well, I got stuck between a Stone and a beef Frank. The guy had to be at least half a foot taller than me. The school’s logo strained against his swollen thigh as a pair of sweatpants clung to his legs. His torso took up most of the doorway, and his hair had been cut down to a short stubble with sharp angles that emphasized a masculine jawline and brow ridge.
“Hey. I’m not too early, am I, Coach?” His voice sounded congested, a sort of forced low that was part diaphragm and part cold, only this guy looked healthy as a horse. Hell, he could’ve been a bull with how thick that neck of his was!
“You’re right on time, Francis,” Stone said mildly. “Derek here was just leaving.”
He blinked slowly and looked down at me with murky green eyes. “Oh.” He stepped aside to let me pass. “Sorry, bro.”
“No problem.” I strode into the hall as Stone ushered the behemoth in. For such a diverse school, it seemed we were getting an awful lot of buff students on campus. I waved briefly to the office staff on my way to the main door. Tight button-up shirts strained as they waved back. Their stubble glistened under the fluorescent lights. Again, with the buzz cuts. I hadn’t noticed it before, but a lot of the staff seemed to follow that style. A few of the kids were sitting in chairs waiting for their turn to meet with Stone or some other official in the offices. Some chugged shakes. Others were running through their homework modules. Others still were reading intently.
“Got it. Finally,” one of them hissed in triumph as Jim issued his congratulations and the familiar tone of his module absorption.
One of the bigger students smiled. “If you’ve got a problem, go to Jim.” He chuckled and scratched his crotch. And like the contagion of a yawn, I felt a sympathetic twinge of my own building.
“Huhuh.Yeah,it’s good to go to Jim,” the kid replied and smiled.
The others nodded or added their own affirmations as they popped caps off their bottles and drank deeply. My brow furrowed as I thought about it. The green stuff was supposed to be for the team players, wasn’t it? So why did everyone else seem to be carrying a bottle? Even the secretaries had some at their desks.
All that drinking and gulping left me feeling thirsty. I reached to the side of my backpack for the familiar bottle. Off came the cap. Pop went the seal. Down went the drink as I walked out the door. I smiled as I scratched my crotch and my muscles tingled. I’d ask about it later. It was probably nothing. “Huhuhuh….” The anxiety left me, and I smiled as my biceps tensed and my shirt perked. The fabric slid out from under my belt as I took a deep breath, exposing skin to the cool air of the school for the briefest of moments. I shuddered, and for the first time, I took the time to simply zone out and focus on how my body felt. My legs were taut, the cuffs of my pants exposing the ankles of my school socks. The jockstrap was tight against my legs and rear, and the polo I now wore strained against my chest when I breathed. The changes had been so subtle, but now that I took the time, it was obvious. “Looks like I’m going to need a new uniform soon.”
I heard it before I saw it. The locker room door slamming open, followed by the rip of shredding fabric. A curly redhead with shamrock eyes strode bare-chested, hefting the rags of his former shirt like a trophy as he walked toward the Nurse’s office. The pump on his arms was immense. His body was built specifically to take heavy blows and never budge. He was a walking pile of meat. As for the talking, well … that was yet to be seen.
Truthfully, I don’t know why I followed him. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe I was curious. Or maybe I was just too buzzed to care about anything and going with the flow. Regardless, I trailed behind to see what came next.
My heart beat as heavily as my breathing as I waited outside the door. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to hide. Was I embarrassed? Was it something else? Finally, I heard the razors buzzing to life from behind closed doors. I don’t know if it was curiosity or what, but at that point, I just … moved. One minute, I was outside, the next I stood there in the middle of the plain tiled waiting room. The buzz was coming from one of the examination rooms. When the door finally opened, the familiar stubble of the angular induction cut stared back at me. A compression shirt had replaced the polo that had once rested on the boy’s chest, and my chest tingled at the sight of the slab-like muscle tone that stood out against the spandex.
He walked past me without a word. And, honestly, I don’t think I was in a state to say anything, myself. It was sort of like when you’re dreaming and you want to talk, but you can’t, and you have to watch yourself move around, instead. The nurse stepped out with one of the aids and eyed me carefully.
“Another one for size change.” He sighed and rolled his eyes as he picked up a tablet. “Name?”
The word released me from the spell, at least in part. “Derek Jones.” The moment I finished, my mouth clamped shut again.
“Dorm?”
“26-B.”
“All right,” he said in a bored tone. “Let’s get your measurements.”
I walked out with a new pair of pants and a bigger polo shirt. The pants hugged in all the right places without being too tight or short, but the polo felt loose and baggy. I felt … I guess almost ashamed of that feeling. It was weird.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll feel right at home in that shirt soon enough.”
I frowned. What did he mean by that? “Uh, okay, I guess.”
“Your new clothing will be delivered in the next few days with the next shipment. Let us know if there are any troubles with the fit, okay?”
I nodded numbly. My eyes drifted back to the open door. The floor was littered with curls surrounding a sturdy metal stool.
“Was there something else I could do for you?”
“I, uh, no. I guess not.” I chuckled again out of reflex. It was almost like a defense mechanism at this point. “Thanks for the new clothes.”
“You can thank Mister Stone. He’s the one funding all this.”
“You mean we don’t have to pay?”
The nurse shook his head. “No. Now how about you move along? I have the sneaking suspicion you’re not going to be the last one coming to me for a fitting today.”
Of course, he was right. It was time to move along. I’d gotten what I came for, even if I didn’t know that was why I’d come. But now I was immobilized by another question, and my head was thinking about as fast as molasses as it echoed over and over again.
Move along to where?
I didn’t know.
“Huhuh.”
Be comfortable.
Where?
I scratched my crotch.
Be comfortable.
Where?
Two hands guided me toward the door. My feet moved. My head was … full is the best way I could describe it. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t think. I just … walked, like a wind-up doll put in motion. No real destination, just … moving forward.
Where?
Corridors yawned. My legs moved. Left. Right. Left. Right. I’d turn. I’d shift. I’d turn again. The question remained.
Where?
I don’t know.
Where?
I don’t know.
Where?
I. Don’t. know.
It took a while for me to realize my walking had taken on that same cadence, as if my whole body were answering my brain, shouting back in its own way together, defiant, resolute, and … something else.
I don’t know.
The question was dulling.
I don’t know.
Growing quiet.
I don’t know.
As though it had lost its voice. Or maybe lost the will to object? Or … was it drowning?
I don’t know.
Just a fading echo, the last bubbles.
I don’t know.
The answer reverberated through my skull as the quagmire hardened and set. I was completely in my head. Or maybe I was completely out of it? Who knows? You can’t really describe it. It’s something you have to go through yourself to really get. Popular media would probably call it no-mind.
I don’t know how much time passed. All I know is that, finally, illumination struck, like a sledgehammer shattering bedrock. Like a wedge breaking open a mold to reveal something beautiful.
And it was.
It wasn’t that I didn’t know.
It was that I didn’t care.
“Huhuhuhuh….” My chest shook with the explosive force of the epiphany. The fabric of my polo brushed against my skin. The realization was so revolutionary, so lifechanging somehow, despite how simple it was. “I don’t care.” I grinned like an idiot. Or maybe like a stoner on a high? I definitely felthigh.
“That’s right, smartass.” The voice was soft, gentle, … proud? My legs stopped moving. The setting sun blazed over Kyle’s face as he smiled at me, igniting his eyes with emerald lightning as the world came back into focus again. I’d somehow transitioned from the hallways to the track outside. My legs felt like jelly. And like a set of gears cleaned by WD-40, my brain cast off the rust and started to work again. I stumbled into Kyle’s waiting arm.
“Easy there, little bro.”
“What … happened?” I shook my head to dispel the last of the debris. My throat felt like someone had covered it with horse glue and squeezed it so tightly that only a straw could fit through.
Kyle shrugged. “You sized up.” Then he smirked. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“I … how did … what?”
He handed me a bottle. “Drink,” he said. “You’ve been walking a long time.”
No protein drink this time, just water. But the flood helped dislodge some of the cake that had built up. My voice didn’t croak so much when I looked at him. “Why did I—?”
“You said so yourself, smartass.” Kyle chuckled. “You didn’t care.” He guided me back toward the dorms. “Lucky for you, you’ve got teammates that do.”
“What?”
Kyle chuckled again. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get you to your dorm, so you can sleep. And maybe take a shower.”
“A shower?” The wind blew, and I felt the cold patches as we hobbled along. “Oh.”
“Yeah, all that walking’s bound to break a sweat eventually. Your jock is probably soaked.”
“Shut up, dumbass,” I grumbled.
Kyle laughed. “Sure thing, smartass. Sure thing.”
I didn’t realize it then, but as I got my second wind, I matched Kyle stride for stride. That lumbering swagger I’d seen on Kyle, then on the football team, on Barry the baseball player, and finally that redhead from earlier, was mine now, too.
——————————————————-
“You guys notice anything kind of … weird lately?” Slater asked as he squatted under Kyle’s careful observation. The layout of the bar was designed to allow him to stand inside a sort of rectangle while the weights were stacked on either side. That way, he’d be able to bend and rise with equal weight distribution. His thighs had grown in the last couple of weeks. There was a firmness about them that I hadn’t seen before. His calves jutted with hard, tense muscle that all but consumed the fat that had once been there.
“Weird how?” Jackson was busy pumping some dumbbells to strengthen his arms and upper body. The exercise also allowed him the freedom to observe Slater as he trained under Kyle’s guidance.
“I don’t know. Just … different, I guess.” Slater shrugged. “I can’t really put it in words. Things just feel … off. Sort of snug, I guess?”
“Snug?” Kyle smirked, but … I don’t know, it felt sort of … meaner. I guess … maybe it was a sneer? At the very least, it was smug.
“Shut up, dumbass,” Slater grumbled.
“Takes one to know one, Slayer.” He chuckled. “Can’t wait to weigh you.”
“Fuck off!” he snarled. The weights crashed to the ground, and the whole gym suddenly became quiet. All eyes turned on us. Honestly, I’m not sure who was more shocked; us or them. The only time we’d ever seen this side of Slater come out was when he succumbed to gamer rage in online matches. He’d never lost his cool in public before.
“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”
I stiffened. We hadn’t even heard him approach. Yet there he was. Coach Stone towered over us.
Kyle shrugged his broad shoulders and smiled casually. “Slayer here’s just losing his shit, because he knows he’s going to lose a bet we made.”
“Is that so?” He set his eyes on Slater and folded his arms over his massive chest. “Is this true, Slayer, was it?”
Slater mumbled as he averted his eyes. “It’s Slater.”
“Well, Slater, it appears you’ve managed to silence the whole gym. That’s not an easy task.” He peered at the rest of the onlookers and raised his voice. “All right, folks. Nothing to see here. Get back to your workouts or get out of the gym.”
Like the flick of a switch on an assembly line, the gym began to move and breathe again. It seems I wasn’t the only one intimidated by Coach Stone. Those silver eyes lingered on me briefly, passed over Jackson, then shifted back to Kyle and Slater.
“Now what, exactly, is the nature of this bet to prompt that kind of reaction?”
Slater was silent. He still wouldn’t meet Stone’s gaze.
“I bet him I could get him over 240 by the end of a month, and that if I did, he’d have to talk with Andrews about joining the wrestling team,” Kyle supplied.
“And if he won?”
“I’d have to take a cheat day and hang out with them for an anime marathon while we veg on snacks.”
“And this prompted such a reaction because…?”
“I teased him, Sir.”
Stone raised an eyebrow. “And has this teasing rendered you mute, Slater?”
“No, Sir,” he said softly.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Slater.” The rebuke was gentle, but the command was ironclad.
Slater did so reluctantly, though only just.
“Back straight,” Stone continued. “If you’re going to take criticism or punishment, you should do it proudly.” He leaned over and planted a thick hand on Slater’s shoulder. “I’m not here to punish you, Slater. No harm was done. No one is hurt. You just lost control of yourself. It happens to every boy at your age. Some yell, others fight, and some just lose themselves in a fantasy world. We all have our coping mechanisms. What matters is which ones we choose to keep and which ones we choose to replace.” He squeezed briefly and smiled. “Now I don’t want this happening again, okay? Yelling is fine, if you need to, but this equipment and the gym are expensive. And more importantly, if you’re willing to do this, then one day, you may get angry enough to hit someone with one of these weights. That’s not something I can let happen. So, from now on, for the foreseeable future, I’m going to arrange some meetings with you. Jim will alert you of the scheduled times.”
“But—”
“No buts, Slater. And I want your full name.”
“But—”
“Now, Slater.”
Slater slumped in defeat and gave up the name.
“Good. I’ll be expecting you on time in my office. Derek can give you directions.” His eyes flashed briefly as he returned to his full height. “Don’t disappoint me.”
“Yes, Sir,” Slater mumbled.
“And you. You’re Kyle Fredriksson, aren’t you?” Stone asked as he turned his attentions to the other party of the disturbance.
“Yes, Sir, Coach.”
“Did you push him to this?”
Kyle straightened and threw his shoulders back. “Yes, Sir. Though only a little,” he clarified. “Slayer doesn’t like to lose.”
Coach Stone turned his gaze on me and Jackson. “You two are the neutral party here. Is he telling the truth?”
Jackson nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Jones?”
I nodded. “He doesn’t usually get this angry.”
Stone nodded. “Then we’ll find out the root of that anger later. For now, carry on, gentlemen. Those muscles aren’t going to grow themselves.”
“Yes, Sir,” we all replied.
Stone turned to leave, then paused. “Oh, and Slater?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Next time, try laughing it off instead. You’d be surprised how much that helps.”
“Uh, yes, Sir,” he said awkwardly.
“As you were, gentlemen.” Stone waved behind him as he passed into the rows of machines and out of sight.
My whole body tingled as he walked away. I reached absently and adjusted my crotch, where the sensation felt strongest, then shuddered. Kyle grinned at me.
“You heard the man, Smartass. Grab some dumbbells and work those arms. If we can campaign together, we can work out together.
I rolled my eyes but obliged him. “Whatever you say, Coach.”
“Not a coach.”
“You’re sure acting like one,” I teased.
Slater smirked. “Point to DJ.”
“Trust me, you haven’t seen coaching till you’re working out on an actual team. I’m just teaching you how to handle it.” Kyle chuckled. “Now how about you put that snark into finishing your set?”
“You did agree to follow the routine for the month,” Jackson pointed out as he curled his weights. “Stop now and you’ll forfeit, and you’ll have to talk with Andrews about joining the team regardless.”
Slater’s lip curled as his hands clenched tightly around the bars to either side of him and he pulled the squat bar back up. “Guys, I’m not in the mood for getting in trouble with Stone again, so could you just can it about the bet?”
“Or you could try his advice,” Kyle pressed. “Trust me, it works. DJ knows.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why did you have to drag me into this?”
“Because you’re the smartass?”
That name was really starting to get old. Especially when Kyle used it for ammunition. But he did have a point. I had firsthand experience, and Slater would probably take it better from me than from the lug that was currently putting him through hell. For a dumbass, Kyle had a keen mind for strategy. I sighed, then turned to face Slater. “Look, it doesn’t work with everyone, but for me at least, it helps relieve my anxiety attacks, okay?”
“And you think I should try it?” Slater asked.
“I think you should use your own judgement.”
Slater chuffed as a hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “And point for you.”
“I wasn’t aware I was playing.”
He smirked. “Didn’t you know? Everyone’s playing the game, DJ.”
I cringed. “Why did you have to bring back that accursed meme?”
“Because it’s fun.”
“And with that stealth kill, Slater the Slayer finally takes his place on the board,” Jackson said in his best impression of a sports commentator.
A weak chuckle burbled from Slater’s lips. “About time.”
“Do my ears deceive me, or did I just hear him laugh?” Kyle asked.
“Don’t push it, jock boy.” But despite his threatening tone, Slater smiled.
“Nah. I just push up, bro,” Kyle returned as he flexed his arms.
We couldn’t hold back at that point. The air filled with our laughter. Slater spread his legs a little wider and resumed his squats.
“Whatever you say, Kyle.”
Kyle grinned. “I’ll hold you to that, little bro.”
Jesse is a very bright student. He’s smart, socially active and even that he’s considered as a nerd, but everyone likes him, even the jocks like him too because he loved to help those jocks in their study. But, some teacher considered him as a “smart but cocky kid who think that he can outshine his own teacher”, and it’s including Mr.Roberts. Mr. Roberts is a Spanish teacher, one of the class where Jesse excelled at it, some student even considered him to be smarter than Mr.Roberts and make the students, instead of asking Mr. Roberts help, they asked Jesse’s help, and one day, Liam (one of his student) said in the middle of his classes"We already know about it sir. Jesse already taught us about that"Mr. Roberts is pissed of and then walked out from the class. A lot of thing races in his mind and then he come with a conclusion"It’s all Jesse’s fault. He’s such a cocky nerd. I’ll punish him for his cockiness"
A week after that incident, Mr. Roberts come to the classroom and he teaches normally and when the bell rang, everyone walked out from the classroom to go home. Jesse walked out last, and Mr. Roberts make his move. He knocked Jesse out with a slight “some kind of karate stuff” to his neck and it make Jesse passed out. When Jesse woke up, he already tied up in a chair and Mr.Roberts is behind him, closing Jesse’s mouth with a duct tape. Mr.Roberts already on his wifebeater and half naked, make Jesse thinks that he’ll be harass him and force him to do some “gay” stuff.
Mr. Roberts stand in front of Jesse, fully erect and grinning devilishly. Than, Mr. Roberts said
“You know what kid, you are so smart. I never been as smart as you when high school and it seems like you are too smart to be a high school student, so I’m going to do something to make you like a real high-school student”
Jesse still can’t move as Mr. Roberts close all the curtain in the classroom and turned off the lamp, make the room totally dark. Then, Jesse feel a hand touch his legs and then he heard a some kind of weird words, like a spell or something and then he feel ache. His legs, somehow getting bigger and bigger as that hand rubbed his legs and he can tell that massive amount of hair start to grow on his leg. His feet also get bigger and his shoes is already to small for him. His jeans started to tear apart too. Then, that hand reach his crotch and rub it and in a second, he feel like his dick is getting bigger and longer and some “bushes” started to grow. After that, the hand rub his flat stomach and pecs and suddenly, his pecs swollen and his abs got harder, he can tell it just from hearing the sound of the rope that tied him start to rip. Then, the hand, touch his arm and in instant, his arms got swollen. His biceps and triceps popped out and his white shirt totally ripped into 2. And then, the hand touched his face and his face start to reshaped and after that, the hand moved to the top of his head and then, another word was chanted and Jesse start to feel drained, all of his memory drained and replaced by the new one. His name is Jonah Jensen Manning. He is a quarterback, popular among the girls, but totally dumb. He is a very talented football players and also a talented person on bed, but that’s it. All of his memory about being a smart nerd is gone and the longer that hand stays in his head, the dumber he get. After 5 minutes, the lamp was on again and the sun shine so brightly throughout the window. He already free from the rope that tied him and then he see Mr. Roberts. Oh yeah, he just done a remedial because he is failing again in Spanish, but he doesn’t care about it, he failed in every subject except PE anyway. Jesse grabbed his bag from the floor and get out from the class, heading to the football field.
“Fuck, coach will be mad if I’m late.Better to get hurry” Jonah said as he ran across the hallway to the football field behind his school
In the Spanish classroom, Mr.Roberts smile widely because finally, the smart and kind Jesse Andrews already replaced by the meat-headed, football jocks Jonah. He is so happy because now, everyone will listen to him again because no one will learn from a dumb jocks like Jonah Manning, adios Jesse!
Source : Hunkymalebodyswap.blogspot.com
“Fuck, bro… look how big we’re getting…” Ian moaned, men-spreading on the sofa with his swollen boner pointing at the ceiling.
“I know, right, dude? So fucking thick…” George added, his cock chubbing up looking down at his best friend in his naked glory.
“And long, bro…”
“So swole…”
“Go get a ruler, bro. Gotta know how big it is now.”
“Fuck yeah…” George nodded, starting his own boner as he walked toward his room across their shared apartment.
Meanwhile, Ian wrapped his hand around the girthy erection between his legs, spreading them further as a his fuckstick throbbed harder. He stroked his manhood slowly, lovingly as he waited for his best friend. With his left hand, he reached for the small bottle of poppers on the coffee table next to the sofa. He was already so large, his hand having a hard time wrapping his boner completely, but it felt so good. What would a bit more size do?
Ian uncapped the popper bottle, the strong musk elevating in the air already, making his big cock twitch and ooze some precum in anticipation. The man brought the bottle close to his nose and took in a deep sniff.
“Uhhh huh huh huh… awww yeahh…” He moaned as he pulled the bottle away, not capping it yet.
The strokes on his dick grew quicker as the shaft pulsed, throbbed. Ian’s fingers pulled apart very slightly, just enough so that his thumb didn’t reach his other fingers anymore around the massive erection. The man gasped, feeling as if his erection had an erection of its own, filling his brain with bliss and pleasure.
“Fuck, dude. You took some more?” George smirked as he reenter the living room, watching his friend basking in pleasure, watching the big erection throbbing even bigger in his friend’s grasp.
“Fuck yeah, bro… Feels so fuckin’ good…” Ian moaned as he offered the uncapped bottle to his roommate. “Go ahead, bro. Take another sniff.”
George happily obliged. After putting the cap on the bottle and putting it away, he brought the ruler next to his own prick, idly stroking it with his other hand. He shivered in pleasure as he watched his boner grow further next to the ruler, watching the nine incher throb further. The head reach past nine inches, closing in on ten, then pushing just a little bit longer.
“Fuck yeah, bro.” Ian cheered. “Gimme that, too.”
Taking the ruler for himself, Ian watched his own eleven boner throb in excitement next to the object.
“Fuckin’ A, dude… You’re almost a footlong.” George commented as he stroked himself faster, more precum oozing out as his balls very slightly increased along with his dick.
“It’s so fuckin’ thick, bro…” Ian groaned as he forced himself to stop stroking for a moment, bringing the ruler to base to see the width of his member. “Three fuckin’ inches wide, bro. That gotta be… huh… how do you… calculate the circum-… the circle again, bro?”
“Dunno, dude. You’re the one in maths.” George chuckled, barely taking notice he was oozing over his friend’s thigh by now.
“Dun remember, bro… Fuck… can’t think clearly with that big fuckstick, bro… just feels so fuckin’ good.”
“Damn right, dude…”
“Y’know what, bro?”
“Yeah, dude?”
“I bet making it a footlong would feel even better, bro.” Ian stroked faster at that thought.
“Fuck, I bet, dude. Do you think you’ll still be able to talk shit with that big of a boner, dude? You look slower.”
“Let’s find out bro!” Ian grinned as he grabbed onto the popper bottle.
Martin is bullied daily by the Jocks for being a gay nerd who got straight A’s. He’d be locked in a locker, the bullies beat him up off campus to avoid getting in trouble and the jocks would force him to do all their work for them. Despite being bullied and beaten up, there was one that he was obsessed over and couldn’t stop touching himself to, named Tyler.
One thing he would always do is at least once a week sneak into the locker room late at night after breaking in and he would sniff and smell Tyler’s football outfit and would masturbate while wearing it. He thought he could get away with it without anyone catching him doing so, but the jocks found out about his antics and decided to give him a little surprise.
They decided to take a spare unused uniform and use a concoction the coach make for them using their sweat and cum on the uniform. When Martin next came to get off while wearing Tyler’s uniform, he saw this new one instead of the usual. He thought it was odd but since it’s in Tyler’s locker, surely it’s his right? so he sniffed and smelled and something different happened then his usual dick throbbing to the scent. This time, he felt his mind go blank for a second there.
It scared him a little for that to happen but he couldn’t help but to keep smelling it. The more he sniffed and smelled it, the more dumb he got, but he didn’t notice this or care because this uniform was driving him crazy. He felt the urge to put it on and so he put it on. The second he put it on, he felt himself growing is height and weight as his muscles grew and he was becoming more masculine. he snapped out of it for a second and rushed over to the mirror and was shocked at what he saw reflecting back at him and tried to take the uniform off but he was overpowered by the urge - the need to put the last piece of gear on, the helmet.
He couldn’t stop himself from putting the helmet on and when he did, he felt his mind slipping from his. His memories of getting A’s turned into getting C’s and D’s, bullying nerds into doing his work when his grades got too low, fucking tons on chicks, kicking the asses of fags, playing football and hanging with his bros. After the changes finished and his mind was completely changed to fit his new body. Max looked at his sexy self in the mirror, not releasing because of the changes that his uniform which was nameless before now said his name on it and that his previously dark brown hair was now a dirty blonde color.
The only things Max cared about now were football, pussy, his bros and beating up and bullying the gays and nerds.