Jocking, The: Kai Cole

Where Reality Ends


By CallMeCrazy

Everything and everyone seemed wrong when Darren arrived at school. But, as the day progressed, everything seemed more natural. His second hour was Dobson, the quarterback coach. God, he was All-American. Tall, blonde, handsomely chiseled, the guy walked out of a magazine. English was Van, the fullback coach, looking hot as always. Everything seemed so natural, like this was the way it was suppose to be. He went to Nickís room after school and looked around. Oh, duh, he coaches now. Well, might as well investigate. But, by the time he got to the field, he couldnít remember what was wrong.

"Dare, glad you came."

"Yeah, Cast." Did I just call him Cast, isnít that his name? No, it was Nicholas. But that wasnít a good name for the man before him. He was Cast. Yeah.

"Are you ready?" Cast looked at Darren.

"Yeah, dude, I wanna play." What? No, I donít. Darren does not want to play. Darren wants to know what is the matter. All the while he was following Cast through the locker room into the small room. Briggs sat at the table, dressed in white tights and long-sleeved shirt, his cup clearly defined beneath.

"So, does body fluid work?"

"Yes, sir, he came just as you suspected."

"Well, since it becomes a part of your DNA, I assumed it would. Now Brock, be a good boy and get undressed and step into the machine." Darren took off his clothes and discarded them. Then he stepped into the machine.

Briggs just laughed as he began the changes.

Darren Brock, Brock is a better name, much more masculine. Nick will be your father, so from now on you will be Brock Cast. Average student, of course. You love your father and wish to be exactly like him. You have the same style, personality, hell even the same mind. Now you need new slang. Dude, bitchin, woah, fuck, fuck, fuck, dick, prick, football, football, yo, sup . . that will do for now.

Brock accepted the life willingly, as Briggs began phase two. Now . . 6'2 better make it 6'8, need to be tall to be a star quarterback. How about . . . 405 pounds. A little bit bigger than you old man. Slowly, Darrenís body began the change. His bones snapped apart and reassembled larger than before. His sunken chest bones shot forward as his should broadened. His feet reached a size 16. Veins began pumping through his calves as they grew massive. His thighs began to changes, from small and sleek to thick, like tree-trunks. His dick hung lower as it grew to nine inches. His ass inflated with juicy fat, and became a wonderful bubble-butt. His abs became a hard washboard which a truck could drive over. His chest grew from 30 inches to over 70. He skin gained a bronzed tone as the veins snaked through his body, changing his blood into a bile-like substance that marked him as a player. He would never bleed again. He neck grew thick as his voice became so deep it was almost unhearable. His hair and eyes became a dull brown as his nose, jaw, and skull restructured. Finally, he blinked, the strange dumbness sunk into him, and he was on the team.

He got out and put on the cup, jock strap, tights, top, and sneakers. Cast smiled at him and said, "Get in the game, dude!"

Brock smiled dumbly and said, "Fuck yeah, later man!" They high-fived and Briggs slapped his ass. Briggs smiled quietly as he had a new quarterbac •

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