High School Development


By Aardvark2

It had been a hell of a week for Wes Taylor. Not only had his body started undergoing some odd changes, but his two best friends had seemed to disappear from the face of the earth. Their houses were gone, their phone numbers were disconnected, their e-mail addresses didn’t work and they didn’t try to contact him.

Now, he was staring at the two biggest, hunkiest jocks in the whole city, and they had no idea who they had once been, or who he was. Now they were egotistical, chauvinistic muscle heads who thought with their cocks and took their fantastic play on the football field as a pass through school.

The fact that scared Wes the most was that he had never wanted to be friends with them more. They fascinated him. He stared at Owen, his brown hair framing his chiseled face; at Logan, with his tan pecs glistening in the sun and his wide shoulders heaving with every step. They were familiarizing him with the complex, but he wasn’t listening.

“So what do you play, fucker?” Logan’s question rocketed Wes back to earth. He hesitated. “Um, football…”

Owen raised an eyebrow. “We mean what position.”

Wes turned red. What a stupid answer he’d given…it was almost as if he’d gotten stupider. “Oh, yeah, position…uhhh…” His mind raced over football games he didn’t remember playing. Finally, it hit him. “Tight end! I play tight end.” The two studs stared at him quizzically. Logan chuckled. “Ooookaaay…you’ll do just fine.”

Wes was getting hornier and hornier at the site of Owen and Logan before him. Not only were they the two sexiest men he’d ever seen, but they’d changed from weaklings into gods, outcast to popular. He wanted to look as good as they did, with his muscles straining at his shirt, his cock barely contained in his cargos, every girl in the school throwing themselves at him. Maybe, if he reached his goal, one day they could all have orgies together…

He finally realized that Logan and Owen had long since left the locker room and left him by himself. He walked out on the field, and the coach called him over. “Evans and McBride treat you okay?”

Wes managed a smile. “Yeah, it was fine. I’m gonna go home…I don’t feel very good. Can I practice tomorrow with the team?”

The coach was stern. “Yeah, but this is your one absence, kid.” Wes agreed and left.


Football practice finally rolled around the next day, and Wes stood alone in the locker room getting ready. He dropped his pants and revealed a blue jock strap, a bit loose in the front. His chest was covered by the tightest blue-and-white-striped polo he could find, but it wasn’t as tight as he wanted it to be. He’d have to bulk up to do that.

He heard the locker room door open and shut, and heavy footsteps approach. Strong hands gripped his shoulders and rubbed them, and he felt soft lips kiss his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw spiky blonde tips – Logan.

Wes was shocked and titillated all at once, and didn’t resist. Logan pushed him down, his back landing on one of the benches. Logan straddled him and planted another kiss right on his lips. “Wes, do you want to look like me?”

Wes nodded and rubbed Logan’s abs, causing the jock to laugh. “I thought you wanted to. I can…make it happen…”

Logan’s hands moved down from Wes’ shoulders to his abs. His fingers danced across them, lightly and nimbly, and then Logan pushed straight down with all the strength in his body – a considerable force.

Harder. Harder. Harder.

His fingers had begun to disappear into Wes’ flesh, the groove was so deep. “Does this hurt, Wes?”

“Noo…it feels so good…fantastic…”

“Good.” Logan kissed Wes again, more passionately this time, and then released his fingers. The crevice stayed.

He moved his fingers down farther and pushed again, continuing the process, like a Michelangelo carving his David. Wes rubbed the appearing eight pack, grabbing Logan’s fingers and pushing even harder. He moaned, his dick becoming hard, then shrieked with pleasure when Logan finally released.

Wes panted and tried to catch his breath. His head was on fire with conflicting emotions – the jock who had once been a small boy and his best friend, now seducing him and turning him into a muscle head as well. He was horrified, and yet at the same time, didn’t mind. He ran his fingers over his face, and he could feel the bones becoming sharper and his facial structure more defined; more masculine. The fuzz on his face was hardening into stubble, and his long hair was receding into his head, leaving a short, stylish crew cut in its place.

Logan tugged on Wes’ nipples, sending ripples of pleasure through the junior – now senior – and causing him to gyrate uncontrollably. Logan grinned. “You like that, don’t you?” “Oh yes! Yesssss…”

The skin around the nipples began to pull out almost comedically, and two huge pecs began to become quite clear in the tight fabric of the polo. Wes’ cock was now bursting out of his jock strap, a full eleven inches long.

“Flex your bis for me,” Logan commanded, and Wes did so, the muscles bursting at the seams of his polo. Logan rubbed the flexed muscles, kissed them, licked them. “Now, release.”

Wes relaxed, his biceps staying the exact same size as they had been when flexed. He could barely control his euphoria. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna…unnnnnnngh.” Logan nodded. “I know you are. Flex again.” They repeated the process until Wes’ arms were huge, gorgeous guns.

Logan kissed Wes passionately, shoving his tongue into the mouth and rubbing Wes’ perfect anatomy. Wes screamed with joy, the cotton fabric of the polo pulled tight over his body. His dick hit the final push, poking out of his jock strap. He could hear Logan laughing but could barely see him, his eyes had rolled so far back into his head. “Here I go…here I…GOOOO…”

Wes sat straight up, the sheets rubbing against his legs and arms.

He was in his bed. Logan was nowhere to be seen.

He flicked on the light and rolled out of bed, staring at his reflection. He reached under his blue and white shirt, his Hollywood-broad shoulders pushing at the seams, and rubbed his washboard abs.

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed. A deep voice – which he eventually realized was his own – shouted out:

“Fuck skating! I wanna play football!”

He collapsed on the floor, wildly grabbing at his throbbing dick. His exhaustion caught up with him, and Wes, the newest jock in town, fell asleep in the middle of his trophy-covered room. •

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