Kai’s life in the daylight continued undisturbed. Each day merely a rerun of the previous. And he put the events of Flex’s existence out of his mind. It was all some surreal dream. In fact, part of him couldn’t remember life without the big lug. He was dumber that dirt, but accurate as all hell and a nice guy. And while most of the jocks wouldn’t engage Kai in conversation, Flex was happy to do so.

Briggs would out to examine the team periodically and Kai had learned to simply ignore everything he said. Unable to swear due to the collar, he simply stared straight ahead, like the others, accepting any criticism Briggs had. Kai’s hatred for Briggs still burned brightly, a daily reminder of the person he was. It was one day cold day when Briggs selected Flex, Snake, and Kai for a mission. And all the memories Kai had suppressed came rolling back.

"I want you to find me a new wide receiver." Kai knew what the orders entailed. And he didn’t want to a part of it.

"No." Briggs simply yawned and walked away, saying that he expected to have the new player by tomorrow. Snake chastised Kai and ordered him to run a lap. In a knee-jerk response Kai took off running. But his mind ran even faster, searching furiously for a solution. He couldn’t do it again, he couldn’t help them. But everything Snake told him to do sounded like such a good idea. And before he knew it they were dressed and driving.

The guy they chose was a pothead, higher than heaven. So incapable of coherent functioning that he got in the van by his own free will. Snake told Kai this one was all his. Kai ripped the clothes off the druggie and proceeded to analyze his body. Part of him held back, desperately trying to stop.

"Do it," Snake commanded. And Kai pulled out a syringe and held it at the boys neck. How can I do this? I don’t even know his name. What in the hell gives anyone the right to this much power? "Do it now, Cole."

"No."

"What the fuck, you little bitch. Do what the fuck I tell you."

"What gives us the right?"

"Briggs."

"What?"

"Whatever he tells us to do, we do. That’s how it is. He’s the coach. We’re the players."

"No."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, do it now." Instantly, Kai injected the boy, and faster still he regretted it. But the changes began. His long, unkept hair faded away, leaving a brown fade. His face gained a less angular, more jockish look. His mouth hung open in perpetual confusion. Now the tripled in girth, dropping his voice so low that animals could hear him better than humans. His once concave chest expanded, filling with hard muscle. His back obtained an impossible V shape. Thick veins pumped through his now massive arms, hands so large he could palm a bowling ball easily. His stomach became a series of washboard abs. His cock thickened and grew, and his balls descended further and increased in size, increasing his sexual drive as well. His ass bounced playfully in the air, as his formerly baggy pants became skin tight against his mammoth thighs. As he feet grew to a size 19, a strange fog descended over the man. Kai recognized the look at the end. The man was now a jock. Fast and agile, he was a perfect wide receiver. And Kai had made him. He was the one who had done it, no one else had touched the boy.

"What’s his name, Kai?" Snake asked.

"Grip." •