Wrong Number: Put Me In, Coach (Patreon)

“I tell ya, Chad, it’s not like it used to be,” Jake yelled over the pulsing music.  The older man took a drag off his beer and shot a disdainful look at the diverse crowd filling the room.  As the new coach of the university football team, Jake had grudgingly agreed to a trip to the strip club as a reward for his players’ hard work.  Being new, he didn’t want to poison the well or be seen as uptight, something he’d been accused of plenty in the past.  Now, watching young girls half his age prance around stage for a bunch of horny jocks of all kind and color, he was regretting his decision.  

It wasn’t just the venue or the mixed crowd.  Despite his judgmental attitude, his stout pole was just as hard in his tighty whiteys as the rest of the guys.  He may have viewed the girls as nothing but cheap whores, but he was still all too happy to view them.  They at least took his mind off his soon-to-be-ex-wife, and he didn’t have to pretend to respect them.  A win-win.   

The bigger issue was the person sharing his table.  The burly young man sitting across from him was only half listening, his attention focused on the naked young woman writhing inches away on stage.  With his chiseled jaw and impossibly broad shoulders, the star quarterback had come to expect the attention.  “Yeah?” he asked, not looking away from the stage as he held a dollar bill just out of reach.  “This some ‘back in my day’ bullshit?”  

Jake bristled at the younger man’s arrogant attitude.  Chad may have been gifted on the field, but in Jake’s mind that didn’t excuse horrible behavior.  He’d been just as impressive in his younger days, he still was for someone who’d crested forty, and he’d managed it without being awful to everyone.  He knew hard work and dedication won more respect than arrogance or grandstanding any day, but watching the smug stud leer at the naked dancer, Jake doubted the younger man had internalized that lesson.  

“All I’m saying is that when I was your age we didn’t flaunt a trip to a place like this,” Jake said.  “Yeah, we went, but we weren’t so blatant about it.”  

“Sounds like you guys needed to lighten the fuck up,” Chad laughed.  He finally looked away and flashed his charming grin.  “Coach, seriously, it’s fine.  We all see each other naked enough...gotta blow off some steam.  That’s all.”  He threw a handful of bills on stage, laughing as they were scooped up.  “And we’re payin’ well.  It works out for everyone.”  He looked Jake up and down as he signaled for a nearby server, reaching over and knocking back what remained of the older man’s beer.  “We just need to get you drunk is all...time to move on to something harder!  You gotta let loose, coach.  Even an old guy like you can cheat a little.”  

Jake couldn’t help but return Chad’s infectious smile.  He knew the kid was a bully, he’d seen it already, but there was something about the young jock’s farmer’s tan and boy-next-door looks that was disarming, even to a straight guy like himself.  Jake puffed out the sculpted pecs that bulged against his straining polo and flexed an impressive arm, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.  “Who you callin’ old?  I can still kick your ass.”  

“There it is!” Chad laughed, sliding a double of whiskey across the table.  “Let’s kick this night into gear.”  

**********

Jake leaned his head against the shower wall in a futile attempt at keeping the room from spinning.  He usually treated his body better.  He started every day with the same intense workout, leaving his six-foot frame covered in ample, defined muscle.  Middle aged, he was still in better shape than most of the guys he coached, with a trim, tapering waist accentuated by his broad, powerful shoulders.  If it weren’t for the increasing streaks of grey in his raven hair he could have passed for one of his players without much difficulty.  

“Rough night?” Jake lifted his head from the wall and turned to see Sam watching him from the door.  

“How do these kids do it, Sam,” he moaned, cranking the shower off and stumbling over to grab a towel.  He smiled up at the ebony skinned giant who towered over him, making even his built frame seem small.  

“Practice makes perfect,” Sam rumbled, giving Jake a sympathetic smile.  He wasn’t cut like the shorter man, but was thick with beefy muscle.  He’d been long and lean in his younger days, like the basketball players he currently coached, but he’d filled out with age, eventually settling as an intimidating teddy bear.  The brawny hulk cut an imposing figure from a distance, but his kind face and easy smile instantly put people at ease.  

“Don’t tell the guys, but I barely remember any of it,” Jake said, toweling himself off as he made his way to a locker.  Having grown up in them, he didn’t feel any awkwardness at strutting naked around a locker room in front of a coworker.  It was just part of the job.  “Oh god, I hope I didn’t embarrass myself…” 

Sam clapped him on the back and shrugged his bowling ball shoulders.  “What’s the worst that could have happened?”  

The question rattled around Jake’s aching brain for the rest of the morning.  He’d gotten dressed and tried to settle into his work routine, but there was a pit in his stomach, a sense of dread that only grew as the morning went on.  Something had happened the night before.  He knew it.  Though his memories were hazy, he felt like he was on the edge of a precipice, just waiting for the ground to give out beneath him.  

After his first meeting, it did.  

“The fuck is this…” Jake muttered to himself as he stared at the text message, not recognizing the number, or what he was looking at.  He’d struggled through his meeting, fighting to stay upright, let alone pay attention, and he had no patience left for whatever this was.  

The picture that came with the message was cropped, showing what looked like part of a woman’s chest with the words “big titted bimbos” underneath.  “If this is one of the guys messing with me I’m going toooooOOOHHHH!”  Jake gasped and fell back in his chair, the room suddenly melting around him until he was back in the strip club, sitting across from Chad while a pair of girls danced on stage.  

“Just look at ‘em,” he heard himself slur, the memories of the previous evening no longer hazy.  “Bunch’a big titted bimbos.  Probably got half a brain between ‘em!” 

The flashback ended just as abruptly as it began, leaving a breathless Jake clutching the arms of his chair.  The middle aged stud was still reeling when the tingling started, spreading across his prominent chest from shoulder to shoulder.  He had just enough time to look down before his solid pecs ballooned outwards, inflating with muscle until an exaggerated shelf strained against his polo.  The buttons shot off like bullets and the bottom of the shirt was lifted away from his trim waist by the new growth, and a set of large, nubby nipples were outlined against the skin-tight polyester.  

“Wha...what just happened…” he stammered to himself, reaching a tentative hand to prod the oversized muscle tits he’d somehow sprouted.  He gasped when he made contact, unable to believe that what he was seeing and feeling was real.  “I’ve...I’ve gotta get help...I need to...to…” he trailed off, distracted by a growing desire to knead the muscled lumps.  Whenever he pulled his hand away it was as if a fog settled over his brain, making it hard to string more than a few thoughts together at a time.  He knew he needed to get help, that something impossible was happening to him, but actually executing that plan seemed out of reach.  Looking around his office, all he saw was a sea of unfamiliar distractions.  Books and papers that he should have known forwards and backwards were suddenly foreign, leaving him to stare at them in confusion while he groped his inflated chest.  

A loud beep caught his fickle attention and Jake looked down to see another text pop up on screen.  This time the image was of a thong-clad backside, the text reading “an ass like that’s only good for one thing.”  

Jake didn’t even notice the room changing this time.  In his addled state he simply accepted that one moment he’d been in his office, and the next he was in a loud strip club.  He heard himself giggle as he remembered Chad’s handsome face watching the women with him, feeling like he shouldn’t have thought of the other man as handsome.  “Flauntin’ an ass like that,” he heard himself say, not fully understanding the words, “only means one thing.  They’re no better than animals, presenting for a mate to come by and take ‘em.”  

Jake realized he was back in his office at the same time that he heard the loud ripping sound.  He blinked in a daze, one hand still toying with his solid new pecs while another drifted down to poke at the huge new cheeks where his solid bubble should have been.  He slipped his hand inside the newly-formed tear running down the back of his khakis and palmed one of the globes that threatened to do the same to his straining white briefs.  

He heard himself giggle again, the sound shocking him slightly back to his senses.  “Oh...oh god...this...this can’t be happening…” he cried, looking at his lopsided new reflection in the mirror on the back of his office door.  His chest stuck out nearly as far in front as his inflated new globes did in back, decimating his formerly proportional build and giving him a curvy profile.  “I can’t...I can’t...like, believe I even wore these,” he said, his eyes going wide with surprise when he realized the true source of his discomfort.  He wasn’t terrified by his twisted reflection, he was bothered by the generic white underwear and bland khakis.  Jake didn’t even catch the twist to his speech.  

The changing coach started undoing the fly as another message came in.  This time the picture was of a slender, toned stomach, with a message that read, “it’s all just for show.”  

“I mean, yeah, she’s in shape, but it’s all vanity.  It’s all for show,” he heard himself say, blinking against the vision of the dimly lit strip club.  He was rock hard in his pants, both in the flashback and in his office, only now he throbbed at the memory of Chad.  The writhing woman on stage was merely an afterthought as he pictured the younger man’s huge arms and arrogant smirk.  

“OOOHHHHHHhhhhhh yeeeaaaaahhhhh,” Jake purred as the vision faded, squirming against the whole-body tingle.  He vibrated from head to toe, a pleasant numbness settling over him as the rest of his body started to swell.  The ill-fitting polo and khakis gave out entirely against the expanding rush of muscle.  Jake’s already impressive shoulders broadened even further as his back expanded and his arms inflated, making his already trim waist seem impossibly small.  The tight midsection was further accentuated when his sturdy thighs widened above his large, craggy calves.  What little fat he’d had on his body melted away until he was left with a shredded, stage-ready physique in place of his functional, athletic muscle.  His protruding, oversized pecs and massive, watermelon cheeks only added to the impractical look.  He wasn’t built for sports anymore, he was built for attracting attention.  The long, thick cock and round, heavy balls spilling out of the remains of his briefs had grown too large to be of practical use, and as he watched, the older man’s salt and pepper hair softened into a bright platinum.  

“I look gooooooooood,” Jake whined.  What little remained of the former, straight laced coach screamed uselessly in his foggy brain, but he was helpless to do anything other than watch himself flex and primp and giggle in front of the mirror.  He had just enough awareness to know that he needed to get help, but that awareness translated into a giddy search for his fellow coach.  The former Jake knew he should have been mortified when he gleefully pranced out of his office, his new cheeks swaying in the remains of his briefs as he sauntered in front of a stunned group of students.  Instead he felt a thrill at being on display, only regretting that he had on boring briefs instead of something tight and glittery.  

“Sam!” Jake burst through the other coach’s door without knocking, stopping to pose when he saw the handful of basketball players gawking at him.  He puffed out his ballooning pecs, arching his back to show off his equally inflated rear as he put one hand on a trim hip and the other drifted down to toy with the tenuous waistband of his briefs.  His new, eleven inch club was tented up and off to the side, the bulbous head threatening to pop out at any moment.  

“Well get a look at you!” Sam laughed, folding his arms behind his head as he leaned back in his chair.  

“I know, right?!”  Jake spread his chiseled new arms and turned in a slow circle, pursing his lips and winking at the grinning athletes.  He loved the idea of being on display, but something about these towering, dark skinned hunks in particular was turning him on.  He ran his hands through his new platinum hair and swiveled his hips, causing his ample bottom to shake.  

The older man behind the desk gave Jake’s altered form a slow look up and down.  “I’ll be honest...I didn’t know if any of this was real or not, but I’m glad I pulled the trigger.”

Like his giggle earlier, the unexpected statement was enough of a shock for the old Jake to surface.  He froze, his doe eyes going wide as he looked down at his warped body and back up at the leering men.  “Wait...you...you did this?  How?  Why?!’

Sam shook his head and gave a deep sigh.  “Of course you’d ask that.  You don’t think I noticed the way you act around here?  The way you treat some players...the white ones…better than others?  I’ve heard you run your mouth when you didn’t think anyone was around.”  

Jake paled, fighting to maintain what little control he had.  “But...I’m not...I mean...Sam, come on, I’ve got black friends, I’m no racist...” 

The stammering blonde adonis was cut off as the room erupted in laughter.  “Of course you’re not, sweetheart,” Sam said condescendingly.  “You and your boy Chad were just ‘letting off steam’ when you didn’t think anyone could hear you calling my guys all those names, right?  Or when you were going on about how smart your white players were while my guys are just here ‘cause they can throw a ball?”  Sam got up and came around the desk, towering over Jake as the nearly naked blonde’s heart started racing.  “That’s not a problem anymore though, is it?”  

Jake licked his lips, overwhelmed by Sam’s presence.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so turned on.  “N...no,” he stuttered, fighting the urge to throw himself at the brawny hulk.  The old Jake paled at the foreign fantasies suddenly flooding his struggling brain.  

“I wasn’t actually going to go through with it,” Sam said, stroking a hand through Jake’s lightened hair.  “You’re not exactly the first piece of garbage to work in this office.  But then hearing you two go on last night about how terrible those girls were...on top of everything else it sealed the deal.  What’d you call ‘em?  Nothing but dumb sluts?  And what does that make you, exactly?”  Sam reached down and tore the shredded briefs away as he asked, letting Jake’s oversized rod bounce free.  The altered man let out a coy gasp, a hand gliding up Sam’s beefy arm.  “Look at you.  You’re so desperate you’d let me...hell, you WANT me...to fuck you right here on this desk in front of everyone, don’t you?”  

Jake wished he could deny it even as he started nodding.  “Uh-huh,” he chirped, eyeing the rest of the group.  

“You’d let them have a crack at it too, right?  You’re about to pop just thinkin’ about being used by my guys, aren’t you?  Pretty little white boy,” Sam laughed, shaking his head.  “All tits, no brains.”  Jake hated the way he giggled when the other man reached over and palmed his plump, muscled pecs.  “Speaking of little white boys...” Sam said, nodding at one of his players over Jake’s shoulder.  He thumbed the altered man’s solid nipples before spinning him around to see the new arrival.  

It took Jake’s diminished brain a moment to recognize the thong-clad stranger.  They were similarly built, the other man covered in a layer of shredded, showy muscle just like he was, only with bigger tits and an even larger ass.  He had the same shock of platinum hair, and the hefty package spilling out from the glittery pouch was every bit as impractical as his own.  “Ch...Chad,” Jake finally whispered.  

“That’s me!” Chad chirped, a dim, vacant smile in place of his arrogant smirk.  He still had his lantern jaw, but his face seemed softer, with puffy lips and a button nose.  

“Chad, you remember Jake, right,” Sam asked as the younger man pressed against him.  The star quarterback cocked his head like a confused dog.  

“Co...Coach?”  

“Very good!”  Sam reached down and gave Chad’s pillowy rear an approving pat as the younger man beamed proudly.  

“Oh my god you look so good!” Chad pranced over and started pawing at Jake’s altered body while the older man did the same.  “Do we still get to play together?”  

“You sure do,” Sam said.  “Just like you are now.  Last night actually was a good idea...it was a real bonding experience for the guys.  But now we’ve got you two, so we don’t have to go anywhere.  We can even take you on the road with us for entertainment at our away games.  You’d like that, right?  We’ll get you some nice, tight clothes to wear.”  It was the last thing either of them should have wanted, but they nodded so fast they were practically bobbleheads.  “Great!  Now, you two owe my boys an apology, but before you make it up to each of us personally, how about a show?”  

There was no hesitation.  The former coach and quarterback exchanged a quick glance and started gyrating, working their new bodies like they’d seen the women do the night before.  They flexed and bent and twirled.  They clapped their enlarged cheeks and squished the plump globes against lap after lap.  Jake even dropped to his knees and tugged Chad’s thong free with his mouth, locking eyes with Sam while the young jock’s inflated club batted against his face as it sprang free.  

He didn’t know if it was the same for Chad, but try as he might, Jake couldn’t bring himself to actually feel any of the horror he knew he should.  Even if he’d been given the option, he wouldn’t have stopped.  He didn’t really want to.  When Sam held up his phone and showed him a picture of himself in the shower from that morning, Jake felt like he was looking at a stranger.  The athletic, hairy chested man in that picture couldn’t have been him.  That man looked masculine and rugged, not primped and pretty the way he did.  That man had an average ass and an average package, not the bobbing club and supple bottom he presented to everyone in the room.  That man looked weighed down by worry and responsibility, neither of which were things he and Chad ever had to worry about.  All they had to do was look pretty and keep the guys happy.  That man looked uptight and tense, while all Jake wanted was some dick.  The darker the better.  

“Mmmm….fuck yeah, coach,” Chad whined, grinding his bouncing cheeks against Jake as they writhed together.  Everyone in the room laughed at the usage of “coach”, knowing full well those days were long gone for the grinning, muscled pretty boy.  

Not understanding the source of the laughter but wanting to keep it coming, Jake spun Chad around and mashed their mouths together, thrilled when everyone in the room started cheering.  The sensation of Chad’s warm tongue sliding into his mouth gave the old Jake one last glimpse of his new life.  The straight, middle aged hunk felt himself shatter as he pictured his daily routine of primping, lifting, stripping and fucking, his new, goldfish brain barely able to remember one day to the next.  All of the horrible things he’d said, calling the women vain, slutty bimbos, raced through his mind as he realized he’d soon be experiencing all of them firsthand.  And he couldn’t wait.  Thinking of himself as a pretty, empty-headed hole was all he ever wanted.  

“Okay boys,” he purred, pulling his mouth away from Chad’s but staying in the other man’s arms.  His club of a cock throbbed when he saw the young men in the room start undoing their pants.  He could barely contain himself.  “Who’s first?”