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Jocking, The: Kai Cole
Briggs and Company
|Coach Briggs had one goal in life: winning. At least everyone had always assumed that the former football star was content with a life of winning year after year in the small town. But Briggs had other plans. Hidden dreams and desires pushed him to employ new tactics to make his boys into stronger, tougher players. Besides losing, the only thing that made the coach furious was seeing males walk through the halls of the school who werenít on the team. His goal was to have a school were every boy played on the team, and every teacher helped coach. It had been years in planning and preparing, but he had finally found a solution. The key to gaining control of any man, and turning him into a mindless, obedient football player.
Truth be told, the method was not simple and in fact was highly dangerous to the individual. He gained help through a few other teachers who were coaches and the occasional science nerd who also played football. Through it all, he had constructed a machine that allowed the coach to reformat an individualís entire being. He could alter their pattern of thought, memories, habits, and any other part of their metal process. The machine also enabled him to morph the body to any whim. Height, weight, muscle mass, even down to hair length and eye color, the coach would have unlimited access to the individual.
The only obstacle that had been in his path was the administration. An older educator, Burton Fisher, had sat as the principal for almost twenty years, and he was as anti-athletics as anyone could come. But Burton finally had enough of the school, and retired. Briggs himself had been a vice principal, and stepped up to take the opening. The other vice principal, Allen Windstock, had long been a supporter of his mission, and Briggs appointed a Chemistry teacher, Nicholas Cast, as the new vice principal. Cast was not an ally, but Briggs had plans for the former wrestler to become a defensive lineman coach. All he needed was an excuse to have an administrative meeting at the stadium. Construction on the school had provided that reason, and today was Castís lucky day.
Nicholas was an older man. Forty and divorced, he had the great pleasure of looking young for his age and being in decent health. He wasnít against sports, his only problems was stupid people. Honestly, he told his students that they had to think to pass his class. However, his harsh approach resulted in high test pass rates, and earned him the love and respect of his kids.
He walked into the large locker room. The school was well-funded, and the ever successful team was granted large donations to continue its performance. The airy space smelled strongly of sweat and slightly of piss.
"Briggs?" He called out. Nicholas heard voices off to the back. He discovered a small door in the wall that looked as though it had been added to the building. Pushing open the door, he was greeted with the sight of Briggs sitting at a table.
"Cast!" He exclaimed. "So glad you could make it." As Nicholas walked in, the door closed behind him.
"Is Windstock-" Nicholas was cut off as Windstock grabbed the man from behind. Struggling violently, he was amazed at how firm Windstock held him.
"Cast, weíve had a bit of a change. We really need to expand our football program. So, I nominated you to coach the defensive linemen."
"What?" Cast could only struggle uselessly against Windstockís bulk. Had the man been this big before? No, Nicholas thought, he had been thin, not muscular. Windstock carried the teacher over to a large tube-like structure. He open a door, forced Cast in, and slammed it shut. Nicholas heard a click, informing him that the door had been locked.
Briggs approach the computer screen and looked at the digital image of Cast it now displayed. The man was 5'5 weighing 155 pounds. He had no history of football but he had wrestled in high school. First, the memories. Nicholas was now Cast, he had been called that since sixth grade football. He had played defensive tackle from day one and had loved it. He loved slamming his beautifully muscled body into other men. He had been given the number 71, which he proudly wore through college. He became a teacher to help other men become football players. He loved working for Briggs, the man was a genius and all men needed to play the game. It was the only sport that mattered.
Mentally, Nicholas was unable to resist the changes. I wrestled, my number was 71. Wrestlers donít wear a number. But I was 71, I have the jersey on the wall in my classroom. I was too small to play football, I was the heaviest guy on the team. I was skinny, I was pumped. I could rip shirts off by flexing my muscles. I did it in the locker room all the time, the guys loved it. No, no, no . . . I was a straight A student. Man, I barely pulled Cís. I worked hard at school, no way, dude, like I totally devoted myself to the game. I had a life, and that life was football. I insist that was not me. I was the man! Dude, I could smash a beer can against my head and flatten it. That was so cool. Me and the guys getting drunk after all the wins. I only masticated, masticar, masti, dude, I was chewing down on meat all the time to gain weight. Yeah, I was 225 in high school, and I upped to 250 in college. No, I put on ten pounds in college, putting me at 155. I weighed 155 when I was 13. God, I love the game. . .
Now, Cast was lulling away in the false memories of the past. He learned plays, drills, uniform maintenance, even proper football player behavior. It integrated into his self, he was a football player, Nick Cast. All the guys called him Cast.
Every thing that Briggs typed into the computer became fact in Castís mind. Mentally, he was ready to endure the physical changes that would make him a football player. His bones smashed and snapped, ligaments ripped as his body grew to 6'6 and his weight changed to 400 pounds. Slowly, his feet stretched, snapping apart what had been Nicholasí body, turning it into Castís. His calves pumped with muscle, veins sprouted throughout his legs, crawling up to his thighs as they began to triple in size, pumping and brimming with newfound strength and a desire to use it. His dick bucked as it thickened and lengthen, hanging lower as his testicles inflated to match the new size. All the former fat in his body flowed into his ass, forming a large, supple bottom on the man. His abs caved in to form six hard abs, painstakingly maintained, so deep they looked painful. The veins now reached his pecs and back, which quaked as they packed on huge amounts of muscle, giving his body an incredible pronounced "V" shape. The veins carrying the fluid traveled to his neck, which nearly popped as his voice dropped to the deepest sound possible. His jaw become square and strong enough to break metal. His nose flatten, as though it had broken several times. His green eyes became a dull brown, as did his hair. The changes entered his brain, as his body became the main focus of his life. That and football. He blinked his eyes, and upon opening, he looked less intelligent and more appropriate for his new life. Windstock opened the capsule, and Cast stepped out.
"Marvelous!" Briggs cheered. "Now Cast, get dressed so we can discuss the team."
"Yeah, . . .dudes." said the now dumb jock as he put on a jock strap and cup, white underarmor tights, and a white long-sleeved underarmor shirt. He put on his football cleats and sat down with the other men.
"Like, I got this new plan, see . . ."
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