The Cupbearer, Part 2 (Patreon)

mulletpermsicantlookaway on tumblr wrote a follow up to my contribution to the relay story about the mysterious cups. Published with permission.

Day 4, 9:28

As Tyler looked on, I put the sealed cup in my backpack. I was about to leave, but then I turned and really looked at him, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Honestly, Tyler, is there anything left of you in there? I mean, do you still care about me at all, or do you just care about me getting Steve with this…this thing?”

For a second, his cocky smirk vanished. He almost looked thoughtful. Maybe he was.

“Bro, it’s not as if I didn’t try to warn you. Why do you think I was avoiding you? You shouldn’t have pushed me so hard. I got angry and lost it, and believe me, bro, I can get super aggressive now, super fast. You weren’t on the list yet. You were safe. Probably.”

“But you were my best friend! I couldn’t just desert you, not after all we’d been for each other, not without finding out why!”

“Look, bro, now you know why, mostly. Even if I’d wanted, it’s not as if I could have just hung out with you like before. And after I – changed – you and I didn’t have anything in common anymore. Seriously, dude, you have no idea how fucking annoying you nerds are! Every time I see one of you – even, even you – I just want to stuff you in a locker. Do I remember being your friend? Is that what you want to know?  I do. I’m sorry. For all the fat lot of good it does us now. But cheer up! You and I’ll be friends again now, bro. Real soon.”

Damn. I felt sorry for him, but that hateful, cocky smirk was back, and I wanted to slap that stupid smile off his face. Maybe he was a victim, but he didn’t look like one. He and I will be friends again soon? I couldn’t help it; I started crying again as I realized what was going to happen to me.

“I hate you so fucking much, Tyler. And I’m going to end up just like you, aren’t I? A big brute with a cocky smile, ready to terrorize any nerd that comes along. ‘You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.’ Damn! Fuck! I should just end this now and jump off a bridge or run out in front of a bus or something. Then this nightmare would finally be fucking over!

Tyler suddenly grabbed me by my shoulders. Hard. His eyes bored into mine. He let go his right hand long enough to smack my face before grabbing me even tighter. Shit, he was strong now! There was no way I could move. My face stung.

“Dude, seriously, none of that! DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! Stop it now! Trust me. Don’t try. It won’t work.”

He didn’t look so cocky now, but I wasn’t sure if he was worried about me or what. He still gripped me so hard I couldn’t move. Between sobs, I said: “How do you know it won’t work?”

The look in his eyes intensified. Was it anger? Pain? Fear? Was he afraid of what I might do, or was something else going on?  I said, “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. But can you at least tell me what it’s gonna be like? Can you tell me if I’ve got anything to fucking live for?”

“Bro, I wish I could. I do. But I can’t explain it the way you want. You’ll have to find out for yourself. I’m sorry. I truly am. Believe me, bro, I just don’t remember much about what happened.”

“But are you happy now, Tyler?” I said, still sobbing. “I mean, you look great and all that, as big dumb brutes go. You’re as strong as an ox, and you seem happy enough, going out with Brittney and hanging out with the guys and all that. Look, I just need to know that I’ll be okay. I just need to know that there’s some hope that I won’t be miserable for the rest of my life.”

Tyler relaxed his grip a tiny bit.

“Look, bro, if that’s what you really want to know – yes, you’ll be okay. You’ll be better than okay. You will. You’ll probably be happier than you’ve ever been. I am. But you’re not there yet. And the sooner you find Steve and do what you need to, the sooner you’ll be done. Because you’re right about one thing – resistance is futile.”

“Nerding out on me, eh, jock boy? Yeah, resistance is futile, all right. I know.”

I sighed and stopped sobbing. Tyler released his grip and pushed me away. I think he was trying to be gentle about it, but I still staggered a bit. The jock boy didn’t know his own strength yet. I rubbed my sore cheek gingerly. With that unreadable look still on his face, he said quietly:

“I’ll tell you another secret. Girls will never admit it, but they really like – how did you put it – big dumb brutes? And some boys do, too. Anyway, bro, it’s high time for both of us to be out of here before someone comes looking. Now go! Just don’t do anything stupid. You know what I mean – don’t think about doing any of those things you were talking about. Text me if you have to. Now fucking get out of here or I really will have to beat you up, while I still can, anyway.

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Tyler smirked at me. The unreadable look was gone, as if it had never been, and the cocky asshole was back. “Bro, you’re already starting to turn. Maybe you haven’t noticed. Now get lost! See you soon.”

Day 4, 10:42

That talk with Tyler gave me a lot to think about, and I’m not sure if I feel better or worse. It’s nice to have some hope that I’ll be happy again. And I think I got a glimpse of the old Tyler inside the hulking, arrogant jock that he’s become. Part of him seems to care about me still. But I was hoping to have this damn thing off today. With it vibrating all the time, all I can think of is getting off, which is the one thing I can’t do.  I’m hot, then I’m cold, but I’m sweaty even when I’m cold. I’m so horny I can’t even think. I might as well have skipped all my classes, because I don’t remember anything. I really want to hit someone right now. Fuck Tyler! And what did he mean about me starting to turn?

Day 4, 11:28

At first, I was hoping it was my deranged imagination, but I’m almost certain the cup is starting to feel tighter now. A lot tighter. I wish I could believe it’s because it’s shrinking, but I know better. I saw what it did to Tyler, up close and personal. I have got to find that fucking nerd Steve today, or I won’t be able to get it on him until Monday, and I’ll be stuck on edge all weekend. These chinos aren’t going to work much longer. They’re starting to get too tight. And even worse, they’re a little highwater. Fuck! Am I getting taller?

Day 4, 14:17

Suddenly I can’t stop eating. I gorged myself at lunch. Out of nowhere I had a huge appetite. I ate two lunches and I’m still hungry. Steve is nowhere to be found. He either wasn’t in school today or was sent home early. I’ll have to make it through the weekend with vibrating junk! Fuck! I need this off now before I change any more.

Day 4, 16:57

I’d had enough. After school, I didn’t go home. I went to where there’s a nice, high overpass over a busy road. I was going to jump and be done with it. I touched the railing, thinking I would just fling myself over, but as soon as my hands touched the railing, that thing – I don’t know whether it froze me or shocked me or what. When I came to, I was sitting on the curb on the other side of the overpass with some passer-by asking me if I was okay. No, I was not okay! I have no idea how long I was out. But I told her I was fine. I got up and tried to go home, but the cup started freezing me and buzzing like mad as soon as I got anywhere near that overpass. I had to go around and go home another way. It made me wonder: did Tyler try something like this? He did try to warn me, and he was so intense about it, too. At this point, I was so keyed up that I didn’t walk; I actually ran home. Between the cup and the too-tight chinos, I’m sure I looked as uncomfortable as I felt, but I needed to burn off some of my frustration. The weird thing is that the cup seemed to vibrate a lot less when I was running. I could almost think.

Day 4, 20:23

I ate everything in sight at dinner. If this continues, I might have to get a job after school just to pay for the extra food. I shut myself in my room afterward, got on the bed, and stared at the ceiling, bored out of my mind. I just couldn’t get into my comic books or video games with the constant vibration going on. I had to find another way to distract myself. I started doing sit-ups and push-ups and squats and any other exercise I could think of. It was odd, but the more active I was, the vibration in the cup either seemed to stop or was just easier to ignore. Once I’d finally worn myself out, I texted Tyler and asked him if he had a pair of sweatpants I could borrow. He didn’t get back to me right away. There was a football game, naturally. But he said he’d stop by in the morning and bring me something I could wear.

Day 5

It seems stupid to do a bunch of different reports for the same day, so I’ll just do one. After breakfast, Tyler the jock actually dropped by as promised! He probably needed to go watch a football game afterwards to purge himself of any nerdiness he might have picked up at our house, but he came. I really hadn’t expected him to show. And he brought me not one but two pairs of his old sweatpants, a pair of the kind of shorts that jocks tend to wear, and a pair of shoes. It’s good he thought of shoes, because mine were getting tight enough to be uncomfortable. This pair doesn’t fit him anymore, but they’re only a little bit big on me. For now. They smell like jock, of course, but I’ll have to live with that. I don’t see myself wearing the shorts. Maybe they’d be comfortable and practical, but they’re ugly, and I’m not a jock yet. I think the sweatpants will do a better job of covering up the stink from the cup. Unfortunately, I’ll probably have to wear sweatpants to school on Monday. Anyway, it was nice of Tyler to bring me the stuff, and he wasn’t being obnoxious. He seemed kind of chill, actually. Maybe I understand him a little better now. He didn’t stay long, but he probably can’t be seen hanging around me until I’m a jock, too. In any case, you rarely see a jock separate from the herd.

It was my mother’s first glimpse of the new, improved Tyler. She was obviously surprised, but she covered it well enough. After he left, she said something like, “Tyler’s been working out a lot lately, hasn’t he? He looks like a completely different person. I hardly recognized him.”

That gave me my opening. I finally asked her the question that had been on my mind since Day 2. I said something like: “So, if I started to get into working out and football stuff like Tyler, and I started getting big and built like him, and I started hanging out with his jock friends, would that freak you out?”

She looked at me thoughtfully for a bit. Then she said something like, “He’s your best friend. I can tell it’s been really hard on you that his interests have changed. But honey, I’m fine with whatever you want to do - as long as it’s what you want and it makes you happy.”  So there I have it. I guess I can put my biggest worry to rest. She’ll be okay with a jock son.

Anyway, after that it was so fucking boring in my room that I jogged as best I could to a park that has those pull-up bars and push-up bars and other stuff for doing a circuit workout or whatever they call it. Like yesterday, it seemed that the vibrating from the cup stopped the more I stayed active. And boy, did I stay active. I did every exercise as best I could until every muscle was so sore I could hardly move. Even I knew that wasn’t the right way to work out, but I needed the relief from the cup. I also hoped to make myself so exhausted that I could sleep better. It worked. My vibrating junk only woke me up a few times during the night. But now the cup is a lot tighter. A lot. I’m not sure if that makes the vibration better or worse, but the worst part is still the constant horniness without being able get off.

Speaking of getting off, I’d better be getting this thing off on Monday!

Day 6

Judging from the little I know about working out, I should have been really sore today. I wasn’t. My guess is the cup does something to speed development and recovery, because I am already seeing some muscle. Even I know that I shouldn’t be able to see a visible change in a day! This thing is really messing with me. I already knew I was starting to smell more like locker room, but now I’m getting hairier. I don’t know what’s going on under the cup, of course, but my legs are hairier, my pits are hairier, and my abs and forearms are hairier. My nipples are super sensitive, and they’re poking up under my T-shirts. Holy shit! I’m getting little hairs all around them, too, and in the middle of my chest! I’m turning into a fucking neanderthal.

As if all this weren’t enough, my throat started to feel scratchy, as if I were coming down with a cold, and I sounded hoarse. I told Mom I wasn’t feeling well. In any case, there was no way I was going to go to church wearing sweatpants with the smell of the cup rolling off me. In the afternoon, I felt a bit better, although my voice was still really rough and hoarse. I went to the park again. I’ve never seen anyone I know there; it’s not very close to my house or the school. I wore Tyler’s old shoes, which fit me perfectly today. By the basketball hoops, there are usually a few random guys playing a pick-up game. Now, I didn’t know much more about basketball than what a basketball looks like, but I played for a while. It could have been worse. I didn’t make a complete fool of myself, and the smell coming off me isn’t nearly as noticeable outside. I was wearing Tyler’s shorts, so I looked as right for the part as I could manage. When I got home, my voice was so hoarse that I could hardly whisper.

As I’d hoped, all the activity calmed down the vibrations from the cup. Speaking of which, I keep thinking the thing can’t possibly get any tighter, but it is.  And I thought I was horny before; now it’s so bad that I can hardly see straight.

When I was getting ready for bed, something about my face looked different in the mirror. I looked scruffy. I think maybe that shaving once a week isn’t going to cut it anymore. My eyebrows were looking a little thick, too. Even worse, it looks as if I’ve got the start of a unibrow. It might be my imagination, but my features seem different, I don’t know, bigger or heavier or something. A little lunkheaded. It’d better be my imagination, because I do not want to start looking like one of them. I’ve got to get rid of this thing!

Day 7

This is scary. I’m getting ready for school, and now even Tyler’s old sweatpants are starting to get a bit form fitting, if you know what I mean. And they’re a little high water, too. My T-shirt looks really tight, and I know it didn’t shrink. It’s uncomfortable, but I hardly notice it compared to the tightness of the you-know-what. It feels tight enough to pop itself off now. Maybe it will? I know I’m still growing, but the cup has got to be speeding things up. Anyway, the first order of business today is finding that nerd Steve and giving him his cup. I’m sorry for Steve, even if he is a fucking dweeb, but I have got to be done with this.

Once I got to school, the rest of the morning passed in a blur. Right before lunch, Tyler texted me that he needed to see me, so we agreed to meet as soon as we could in the most out-of-the-way men’s room in the school. When I went in, there was only one other guy there, some random nerd I didn’t know. Tyler came in a moment later, fixed the nerd with his best jock glare and said “Out, nerd. Now!”. The guy scuttled out with a look of terror on his face, but I had sympathy only for myself. Turning to me with his trademark cocky smirk, Tyler said:

“Congrats, bro! You did it! You’re second on the list now. So go down to the locker rooms tomorrow sometime between, say, 10 and 11 tomorrow and everything should be ready.”

“Dude, am I, like, missing something?” Something about me sounded way off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “What’d I do?”

“Well, I didn’t see it myself, but you know Derek? Blond buzz cut, linebacker and built like it? Anyway, Derek told me you got Steve O’Connor this morning between first and second period. You walked right up to Steve and popped it on him while Steve was still trying to figure out what you wanted. He just stood there, pale as a ghost, and said “What’d you just do to me?” You walked away, but then turned around and said, “Just a little present for you, nerd. Have fun trying to walk!”. And then Steve, he’s still standing there after you left, spluttering, “I don’t understand! What’s this smell?” and looking as though he’s going to throw up. According to Derek, he was still standing there in the hallway looking lost when the next bell rang.

Holy shit! I’m sure the look on my face must have been fascinating, but I couldn’t see it. The cup started vibrating like a mad thing. I should have been sick to my stomach. I should have fainted. But really, I was just relieved. Incredibly relieved. And more than a bit freaked out that I didn’t remember any of it. I said:

“Bro, seriously, I do not remember any of that shit. I don’t remember anything from this morning.” Something was still off; I sounded strange. “Wait, dude, is my voice, like, lower?”

“Yeah, actually. You sound different. But, bro, I told you were turning already. I can see it, and probably other people can now, too. You’re taller, and you’re bigger, too. I know you haven’t started to buff out a lot yet. That doesn’t really happen until the cup comes off, and it doesn’t happen right away, but you’re already starting. And that’s fast work, bro; some guys don’t start showing for weeks. You’re going to be fucking awesome!”

And then he grabbed me in a quick, hard, bro hug and patted me on the back with his meaty paw. I was stunned. My bro Tyler thought I was going to be awesome! I was so pleased, so stupidly pleased at attention from Tyler that I forgot for a minute that I had spent all morning at school and remembered none of it.  That should have frightened the living shit out of me. And let’s not forget that Ty-boy was the whole reason that I was in this mess to begin with. Tyler said:

“So, dude, you really don’t remember anything from this morning?”

“No, bro. Not a thing since I got to school. Why?”

Tyler grinned at me for a moment. His smirk was smirkier than ever – if that’s a word.

“Well, bro, before you caught up with Steve, you also apparently stuffed some random freshman geek into his locker. Derek had been keeping an eye on you, you know, making sure you got to Steve. I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but that was too good to pass up. Anyway, I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, after you’re – well, after. Trust me, you’re gonna feel great!” 

He turned to leave, but I said, “Dude, seriously, hold on a sec. I mean, stuffing some kid I don’t know into his locker, I’m not even gonna go there; I so can’t deal with that now, but is it normal for me to just – black out and forget an entire morning at school? I mean, that’s really freaking my shit.”

“Well, I don’t know how often it’s happened, but you’re not the only one it’s happened to. But you’ll be fine once the cup’s off. Later, bro!”

Yeah, I’ll be fine, Tyler. Right. The next time I terrorize some innocent kid, at least I’ll be able to remember it. Great.

Tyler swaggered out of the men’s room and vanished down the hallway. I started to follow and then stopped short: tomorrow? He said tomorrow? Really? I had to wait another day! Fuck! There’d be nothing left of me by tomorrow. Whatever happened in the locker room to complete the process, I was already starting to look and act like one of them. And if I understood Tyler, the changes started to accelerate once the cup came off. Tears sprang into my eyes, and I started to sob. I suddenly felt faint, so I went to the sink. I caught my reflection in the mirror. What I saw was bizarre, and completely outside my experience: a dumb jock was bawling his eyes out. I wanted to throw up, but nothing came, so I stood there and splashed some water on my face.

It didn’t matter at this point, I realized, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I was way too far gone already. Quick as lightning, I punched the hateful reflection with my fist. The glass shattered and fell splintering to the floor. My knuckles were a little red, but I hadn’t broken the skin. I walked out the door and never looked back.

Day 8, 6:25

Today’s the day. I’m resigned to my fate. My old life’s ending and my new one is starting. No, my old life ended a week ago. Come to think of it, my old life really ended when the bastards got Tyler. They took my best friend, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. The sooner this is over, the better. See you on the other side.

Day 68

Hey, bros, I know it’s been a LOOONG time, and you want to know the rest of the story. Sorry you had to wait, but I have had way better things to do than dweeb-ass shit like keeping a journal. A fucking captain’s log? Seriously! I can’t believe that I used to be that guy. But – I know he would have wanted to finish the story, and I owe my old self that much, I guess. So, bros, with that said, here is the rest of the story.

I know you all want to know WHAT HAPPENED, you know, down in the locker room. The problem is, just like my bro Tyler, I can’t really remember much of The Day Of, if you know what I mean. I know I went down to the lockers as soon after 10:00 as I could make it, because nothing was more important to me than getting that fucking thing off my junk. As for becoming a jock, by that point I was already more jock than nerd anyway. I wasn’t trying to fight it anymore.

Anyway, I got there, and they were ready for me this time. The old football coach was there (more on him later), and that Derek dude with the blond buzz cut was there, and maybe Tyler and a few other guys that I recognized. Maybe. After that, it’s pretty much another black hole, like the day before when I cupped Steve-o. All I remember is there were lights, and maybe some videos they had me watch, and the old football coach’s voice droning away. I think some of the other coaches were there, but his was the voice I remember. And then nothing. The next thing I remember, I was coming back after practice into the locker room and stripping for the showers. Yeah, after. I don’t remember my first football practice, but Tyler told me I really was there. I also don’t remember learning how to play football.

It wasn’t until I was soaping myself up in the shower that I realized I was free. About fucking time! I honestly don’t know when they took that thing off, but when I got the soap down there, I finally realized it was gone, and I could touch my stuff for the first time in a week. Of course, it wasn’t the same feeling. No way. I had heard that most of the guys who were jocked like me would stand there in a daze once they were free of it, touching themselves and muttering, not able to believe what they were feeling. But I already knew what to expect. I’m not going to bother describing mine in detail. I already described Tyler’s monster fuck stick and balls, so you know the drill. But you remember that Tyler had been – um – distinctly below average beforehand? I wanted to point out that that was not the case for me. You know what I mean. You can figure it out. I swear, it felt like the damn thing needed nearly a whole bar of soap just for itself, and the balls felt like lead weights in my sack. It took some getting used to, but I got used to it, and anything was better than the cup, believe me. It’s been easier since. Now that I’m stronger and my body’s bigger, everything’s more in proportion, and I don’t feel like a freak. But sorry, Becky, the manspreading will continue. It’s not as if I have a fucking choice. Between the size of my thighs and my junk, just trying to cross my legs makes my balls wince.

At least I could finally wash down there, and the funky reek was gone. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m a big guy, and I can get pretty rank by the end of the fourth quarter. Fuck, I can get pretty rank by half time. And my gym shoes and football cleats and jockstraps do make my bedroom smell a bit like a locker room. But I don’t stink up any room just by walking into it anymore, not unless I haven’t had a shower.

Speaking of showers, I’ll get back to the story. I finished my shower and lumbered my way back to my locker in that jock swagger that has become an old habit by now. I know it makes me look dumb, but that’s really the only way I can walk comfortably. Anyway, when I opened my locker (and I’m not sure how I even knew it was my locker), I found some clean clothes that I had never seen before. I sighed. Under Armour head to toe seemed to be the extent of my fashion options. So I pulled on a pair of compression shorts and then put regular shorts on over those. Then I went to look at myself in the mirror.

I was bigger than the last view I remembered from the school men’s room (you know, the men’s room where I broke the mirror). I wasn’t much bigger, but shit, it was only a day later. It felt like a year! My build was still more gangly than buff at that point, but I could easily see where the muscles were developing. As for my face, well, it wasn’t quite neanderthal, but you wouldn’t mistake me for the president of the chess club. (The unibrow didn’t help, dudes.) I could still see remnants of my old face in places, though, covered over with the bushier eyebrows, five o’clock shadow, and stronger features. I had nearly no hair. I didn’t remember getting a haircut, but someone had given my dark hair a buzz cut like Derek’s, only even shorter; on the sides and back it was almost completely shaved off. I had never had my hair that short, and I felt bald and drafty. It was a striking look, but more than a little intimidating. If I were a freshman geek trying to get my books out of my locker, I would probably give me a wide berth. I wasn’t bad looking actually, but, looking at this face, no one would ever believe that I’d been a nerd. Fuck, I couldn’t believe it myself, and I knew better. The guy looking out at me from the mirror was hot shit, and he knew it. Maybe that was the whole idea. I smiled. And there it was – my own version of Tyler’s smirk.

Yeah, I know. I said I’d end up being a big brute with a cocky smile. Well, at this point I wasn’t all that big yet, but there was the smile. My reflection looked happy. Tyler was right; I felt amazing, better than I’d ever felt in my life.

I finished getting dressed, which for now meant I put on a T-shirt, socks and shoes. My hair was so short that, when I pulled the T-shirt over my head, the collar stuck to my stubble like Velcro. By this point, almost the entire team had left the locker room, but Tyler came by, rubbed my buzzed head and said, “Looking good, bro! How’s it hanging?”

“Shut up, Ty-boy, you fucker,” I said, with that shit-eating grin on my face. “I think you of all people know how it’s hanging.” I still sounded “off” to myself. I’m not sure if it was because my voice was even lower or if it was just the sound of the bro-speak coming out of my mouth. Maybe it was a combo.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I know. But seriously, bro,”, he said, giving me a hug, “It’s good to have you back. How’re you feeling?”

Have me back, Tyler? I wasn’t the one who left, not that it mattered now. What I said was “It’s different; I’m not going to lie, but I feel pretty fucking amazing. Better than I ever have. You were right. But, dude, it’s been a long day. I didn’t sleep last night. I just want to go home, and, like, sleep for a week. Can we get out of here?”

Tyler AND Derek walked me home. I guess I’d better get used to moving with the herd. Derek’s not such a bad dude, really. I’m pretty sure he’s a native jock and not a former nerd, and he seems about as dumb as a box of rocks, but he’s decent enough to me now that I’m part of the team. He and Tyler came in for a few minutes. That helped blunt my mother’s shock at my new look. Tyler told her I’d gone out for football, that I was learning fast, and that the haircut was part of the initiation. I don’t know if she really liked it, but she rubbed my head affectionately and said I looked cute. Cute? Really? Maybe Mom likes big, dumb brutes, too. After that, I went to my room, collapsed on the bed, and slept for, like, sixteen hours.

I guess it was really more like twelve hours. The next morning, Day 9 in the captain’s nerd log, I woke up a bit early with a morning wood that was nearly as distracting as the cup. I had fallen asleep in my clothes. Clearly, I would have taken care of business had I not been unconscious, especially after waiting for so long, but my monster cock wasn’t going to be put off any longer. I’m not sure if I was jerking it or it was jerking me. I hope I didn’t wake Mom up; I was a bit out of control. And I had to change the sheets.

After I came, I felt different. This is hard to explain: I felt complete. Finished. It was as if that step somehow took all the changes I had been experiencing and clicked them into place, finalized them. I don’t know if that was just an idea in my head or if it was really part of the process, but that was when I truly felt I was a jock. Not only that, but I felt as if I’d always been a jock, and I had trouble remembering that I’d ever not been a jock.

In any case, I finally felt at peace with myself. My mind slowed down. Now, don’t get me wrong: I’m not trying to say I got dumber. I know everyone thinks jocks are dumb, and a lot of us are. I know I can look dumb, and all the bro-speak makes me sound dumb, but I don’t think I’m really any dumber than I was before. What I mean is that I was calmer. Focused. My mind wasn’t racing every which way.

I’m only speaking for myself, of course. Now Tyler? He might be a little dumber than he was before, but he wasn’t always the sharpest tool in the box to begin with, if you know what I mean. I will admit that some of my grades slipped a bit. Part of it is that I had missed a week’s worth of class when the cup wouldn’t let me think. The main reason was my attitude. I can still do the work; I just don’t care as much about grades as I used to. Practice and working out and hanging out with the guys are all higher on my priority list right now than school subjects I didn’t like much to begin with. I’m sticking with AP Biology, though. If I keep studying biology, someday I might be able to figure out how these cups worked. And Mom already had the talk with me about how my grades need to keep up, so I will stop slacking, I promise. I’m not going to bully some nerd into doing my work for me, as tempting as it is.

Okay, so where were we? Oh yeah, nerd log Day 9, star date whatever-the fuck. As great as I was feeling, I did feel a bit sorry for Steve O’Connor. Protocol be damned (and how did I know there was a protocol?), I decided I would talk to him when I got to school and let him know it was nothing personal. Well, tracking him down wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped, and I didn’t want any of the other bros involved. As it turned out, Steve-o was the one who tracked me down.

This is how it went. I needed to drain the dragon. I was wearing a pair of Tyler’s hand-me-down jock shorts, and they didn’t have a fly. Not being used to my new, um, anatomy yet, I was a bit shy of pulling that monster out in front of others, so I aimed for that out-of-the-way men’s room where I’d broken the mirror two days and a lifetime before. The broken glass had been cleaned up, but the mirror hadn’t been replaced yet. I hoped no one would figure out how it had broken. Anyway, I was just finishing at the urinal when the scene started, almost identical to my confrontation with Tyler over a week earlier.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around. Yeah, there Steve was, pale, sweaty, and looking on the edge of a nervous breakdown. I was pretty sure he’d seen my cock, because his mouth was agape, but I wasn’t going to be rushed. I took my time stuffing it back into my shorts.

“Fuck, James, is that even you? I hardly recognized you. What the hell happened? Since when are you a fucking jock? And what in fuck’s name did you do to me?”

I was trying to do the dweeb a favor, and now I saw what Tyler had tried to explain: nerds are so fucking annoying! I gave him my best smile, “Hey, Steve-o. ‘Sup, bro? Enjoying your new accessory?

At that, he actually tried to hit me, not that I blamed him, really. The reek of the cup rolled off him. It wasn’t quite as bad as I remembered, but it was bad enough.

I grabbed his arm then, and I pulled both his wrists behind his back and pinned him up against the wall so that he couldn’t lash out again. Holding him there while he struggled, I said, “Look, bro. We need to talk; but calm down or I’ll have to sit on you. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything personal. I had no choice. You were next on the list, and the only way I was going to get mine off was to give one to you.”

Now he was starting to cry. “What? What’s going on?  You mean someone put one of those on you, too? Who was it?”

“Not that it’s really any of your business, soon-to-be-former-nerd, but, if you really want to know, it was Tyler. Not that my bro Tyler had much choice, either.”

“Wait, Tyler. Yeah, he used to be a nerd, come to think of it. And wasn’t he, like, your best friend? So that’s what happened to him. And you. Now it makes sense! I couldn’t figure out what was going on. But why me?” And then it hit him: “Oh fuck. Fuck! No! You mean?” He started to slump down the wall. I let him go, and he collapsed on the floor and looked up at me with stark terror in his eyes. It was pitiable to watch, but I didn’t flinch and kept my gaze on him. “Tyler was a nerd, and now he’s a jock. You were a nerd, too, and now you’re a jock. And you put one of those things on me. Is that how they do it? You don’t mean I’m gonna…” He swallowed hard. “Look at you. You hardly look like the same person. You don’t sound like the same person. Do you mean?”

“Uh yeah, bro, I mean. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I figured I owed you that much. Say good-bye to the chess team and hello to the football team. Look, I don’t know. I really was trying to do you a favor, but maybe it makes it worse, you knowing what’s going to happen. But I figured you’d want to know. I did.”

“Oh yeah, thank you so much, thanks a ton!” he said bitterly. “Don’t just stick the knife in. Sure, twist it around a few times, too. Fuck!”

“Look, it’s going to be rough for a bit, but you’ll get through it. You will. Now let me give you some advice: don’t try to remove it; it just makes it worse. Don’t try to do anything stupid, like hurting yourself; that really makes it worse. And the more you stay active, the less it bothers you. I think it also speeds up the changes, but believe me, you’ll be better off in the long run. I know what I’m talking about. You won’t believe this, either, but you will be happy – after. Really.”

“But I don’t want to be like you,” he sobbed.

“Shh, dude, shh,” I said, patting him on the shoulder as gently as I could manage. “I know you don’t. Believe me, I know.” I pulled him to his feet and held him upright. “But you have to believe me when I tell you: you will be okay.”

And then I gave him a hug and left.  Later that day, my bro Derek pulled me aside. I don’t know if he knew I had talked to Steve, but he had noticed that I was trying to keep an eye on him. Derek told me, “Hey, bro. Don’t worry about Steve. Jake and I and a couple of the guys are keeping an eye on him. Anyway, we think he’s starting to turn, so he should be okay.” I couldn’t really see it until the next day. By Friday, the changes were more obvious, and by the time Monday morning rolled around, most of the nerd was jocked out of him. Sometime Tuesday, a week after me, he went down to the locker room. As it turned out, I didn’t talk to him again until he had joined us for that afternoon’s football practice, but it all came out right in end, as you’ll hear.

You see, the whole cup thing seems to have stopped, as far as we can tell. I had something to do with that, though not directly. It went back to something Tyler had said. Remember that he said I was back on the list, in second place? Apparently, whoever was behind the experiment or conspiracy or whatever it was had made some tweaks to the things along the way. I was the second guy to get the very latest cup model: second place, see? The guy in first place was some guy I had never met before named Zach Davis. My bro Steve-o, Steve O’Connor, was number three, and then there were three more nerds in process before whoever was running this show found a huge flaw in their plan. At least, it was a flaw to them. You see, every one of us that got that model turned out to be gay. Now, I don’t know for sure, but in my opinion, it could have just been dumb luck. I am pretty sure I was gay before. After all, I did have more than a bit of a crush on Tyler. It was one of the reasons I was so hurt when he dropped me and why I was so determined to find out why. And Becky was always a friend; I didn’t have, you know, feelings for Becky that way. It could have been the same for the other guys; I mean, really, gay nerds aren’t that uncommon. But it seems that the last thing whoever was running this program wanted was an army of cocky, built, gay alpha jocks who couldn’t be bullied. Too funny. Law of unintended consequences, anyone? Anyway, soon the old football coach was gone, and we had a new coach who was not involved, apparently, and had no idea that some of his star players had been nerds a short time before. And none of us are going to say anything.

Now no one knows (or admits knowing) what the goal might have been. If it was to change all the guys at school into jocks, I’m not sure how some of the bros would be able to pass their classes without some nerds to help them with their homework. Doesn’t really matter now, I guess. The jocks, new and old, are all happy with our lives, so we don’t care.

The new football coach had no problem with us gay jocks, and neither did the other bros. We were bros, too, after all. They trusted us, and the team needed us. If we happened to like dudes rather than chicks, that just left more chicks for them. As Tyler had said, girls liked big dumb brutes, and so did some guys. Even the dumbest, ugliest players on the team could always find dates, believe me.

As for me, well, turns out my bro Steve-o had a bit of a crush on me, and let me tell you bros that he’s turned into one smoking hot gay jock. We started seeing each other, and pretty soon we were boyfriends and the first couple on the football team.

Tyler’s still one of my best bros, and it was great to be friends and hang out again. Of course, we don’t spend as much time one-on-one as we did before, cause jocks really do kind of form a herd, and we don’t do the same things we used to. Now we might catch a game; then it might have been D and D, but it’s all good. Tyler and Brittney are getting pretty serious now, so she takes a lot of his time, and I spend a lot of my free time with Steve-o, naturally.

As for my old friend Becky, she wouldn’t even look at me for weeks after I had changed. Pretended I didn’t exist. And she really didn’t like jocks much, or so she said. But the funny thing about Becky, which I should have guessed, is that gay guys were her thing. As soon as Steve and I became a couple, suddenly Becky was apologizing for dropping me and asking if we could be friends again. She loves Steve, naturally. But the poor girl has needs, you know, like any girl her age, and while Steve and I were good friends, there was one itch neither of us could scratch, so to speak. Well, you won’t believe what happened next. Enter our bro, Derek. You remember: blond, buzz cut, side-of-beef Derek? The terror of freshmen and underdeveloped geeks? Yeah, that Derek. He comes to Steve and me and asks us to put in a good word for him with Becky! Thinks she’s way out of his league. Well, Derek is a great guy even if he is dumber than dirt, so sure, we did our bro a solid and pleaded his case with Becky. And she went out with him! And then she went out with him again! Now they seem to be getting as serious as Tyler and Brittney, and Tyler turns out to be right about girls again. I will admit I just can’t believe it. Brittney’s one thing; she’s the cheerleader type, and they always go for the jocks. But Becky? I have no idea what she and Derek talk about, but it seems to work for them. At least he doesn’t need to bully nerds into helping him with his homework; Becky’s got to be one of the smartest girls in school.

So, all in all, everything is going great and showing every sign of getting better. Tyler’s getting big enough that he could probably play linebacker next season. I’m not far behind him, and Steve-o’s catching up nicely in the weight room himself. Now that football season will be ending soon, I’m thinking whether I should go out for basketball. I don’t know; I’m a little bulky for basketball, and I’m not that tall. Wrestling might be a better fit. And the sight of my package in a singlet might scare any opponents right out of a match.

My room’s different too now. My old clothes are long gone. Even if I still wanted to wear that shit, none of it would have fit me a couple of months ago, let alone now. But Mom’s budget wouldn’t allow me to just lay in a new wardrobe. It would have been a waste anyway. The first few weeks after the cup came off, I was making some sick gains, and I would have outgrown anything that wasn’t super roomy or made with a lot of stretch. As it was, my appetite was already a strain on Mom. Tyler’s been super helpful, lending me some stuff and giving me what he could spare or grew out of, but Steve-o’s been the best. His parents are loaded, and his dad was so happy to have a jock son, even a gay jock son, that Steve-o can get almost anything he wants, even a few extras for his boyfriend. I eat dinner at their place nearly every night, which takes a lot of burden off my poor mother. I don’t want to be a charity case, though. I do make myself useful. And now that my growth and my appetite are stabilizing, I should be able to get some of my own clothes that I don’t grow out of in a month. Even a jock (and especially a gay jock) needs some decent outfits for occasions that don’t involve a locker room, and I’m not covering up this bod with baggy basketball shorts all the time.

As for all the nerd shit like comic books and whatever that Tyler and I used to spend our hours on, I boxed it up and put it in my closet. I don’t really want any of it, but I can’t get rid of it, at least not yet. I find it super boring and stupid now, but that stuff is all I have of who I used to be. I know it’s weird. I can barely remember being that guy, and I’m happy with my new life and would never go back, but I feel like, as long as I still have his stuff, my old self isn’t totally gone. The guy who wrote the beginning of this story is a stranger to me now, but when I read what he wrote, I mean, for a nerd, dude sure had some balls! So, yeah, I want to honor my old self’s courage – and the pain he went through, too. Reading the story now, it’s clear to me that the best part of my old self was my friendship with Tyler. Well, bros, don’t feel too sorry for the old me.  After everything that happened, I’m still friends with Tyler, and it’s fucking awesome, because that friendship is what brought me everything good that I have in my life now.

So, that’s the end of my story, bros, except for one last thing. Sort of an epilogue, if you know what that means (I told you dudes I wasn’t as dumb as I sound; I can use big words when I want to). You see, Steve and I are thinking that the Law of Unintended Consequences is fucking with this story again. Let me explain. Steve-o and I are an exclusive couple. Except for once. Now, neither one of us was interested in anyone else, but there was this one skinny guy, Jeremy, that had a HUGE thing for jocks. Kind of cute, but maybe weighed a hundred pounds on a good day. Well, obviously none of the straight bros are going to help Jeremy out, but as soon as we were out as a gay jock couple, the boy would not leave us alone. Wanted to make out with one or both of us for a night, an hour, fifteen minutes; in other words, whatever we’d be willing to give him. Well, we felt like being charitable. We finally decided that a little extra wouldn’t hurt our relationship, and we’d be doing the dude a favor and giving him an experience he wouldn’t soon forget. So, with the understanding that it was a one-time thing or else we’d do him some serious damage, we invited him over to Steve’s room one night. (No way my place would have worked; Mom would have heard everything.) Well, the dude may or may not have been a virgin, but he knew what he wanted. Of course, he nearly pissed himself when he saw our cocks, but he was so horny that he managed to – um – handle way more of both of us than I would have believed for such a small guy. Where there’s a will, I guess. And at least one of our jockstraps went missing after that, so I assume he kept a souvenir. But that was the end of that. Jeremy got what he wanted, and he didn’t try to renege on our deal.

So, it’s not as if little Jeremy hangs out with the bros, right? We don’t see him again right away. But when we do, he seems a little off. For one, he’s walking a little funny, as if something’s going on down there. We guessed maybe he was wearing his souvenir to school, and it wouldn’t exactly fit him, now would it? But it did look as if he had a lot more of a package than Steve-o and I remembered seeing. A few days later, he’s starting to look a bit different. Taller, A little bigger. His cute little face is looking less cute. He starts to look a bit distracted, and he’s scratching himself a lot when he thinks no one’s looking. Okay, so maybe it’s a normal growth spurt. I mean, as far as we both know, all the cups are all gone, and we’d be able to smell that on him in any case. Steve and I sure aren’t going to say anything, but we’ve got to wonder: is he turning? If so, the dude’ll probably be pretty happy, since jocks are what he’s into. But if he is turning, then it seems obvious that it must be something about his make-out session with us that triggered it. And if we could do that, what about the other converted gay jocks? If we’re all – contagious – if you follow me, then whoever started this fucking experiment may have his army of gay jocks yet, whether he wants it or not. And after everything that’s happened, bros, Steve and I think that has got to be about the most twisted ending to this story that we could have imagined.