“The only normal people are the ones you don’t know very well.” –Alfred Adler

Part 1

Scott Travers wanted to be popular in the worst way. He was sick and tired of being average! Average looks, average height, average grades. Fuck, even his dick was average (or below average if he was being honest.) He was so desperate to leave his boring, average life behind that he didn’t even question his sanity when he popped the cork on an old bottle he found at the beach and a genie emerged, swathed in a cloud of blue smoke.

“What’s your wish?” the genie asked, bowing his shaved head in deference. He was quite stunning as genies go (not that Scott had much experience, this one being the first he’d ever met) with sinewy muscles rippling under his blue skin.

Scott blinked. He was taken aback but not so taken aback that he forgot the basics. “Uh, don’t I get three? I’m ‘sposed to get three wishes, right?”

The genie shook his head, causing his rattail braid–the only hair on his head–to sway menacingly. “Nope. Just one wish. Now what’ll it be?”

Scott opened his mouth to protest but reconsidered when he saw the smoldering look in the genie’s brown eyes. He’d heard stories and knew it wasn’t wise to anger a genie. So, only one wish? he thought. Well, if I only got one wish, guess I gotta make it count!

It didn’t take him long to decide. Ripley Snyder was the most popular guy in high school and Scott envied him to no end. A towering brick shithouse with muscles that wouldn’t quit, Ripley was the quarterback of the football team and had hordes of adoring fans. Tall, broad-shouldered and bull-necked and hung like a horse–Scott had seen him parading around naked in the locker room on more occasions that he could count and had always envied the hung stud’s size–Ripley turned heads wherever he went. And, as if his big dick and beefy body wasn’t perfect enough, he was graced with the looks of a top male model. Sporting a tight, blond fade haircut with bangs swept over the top, his blue eyes twinkled and his full lips were perennially curved in an alluring smile. Add in his trimmed, reddish-brown beard and pearly white teeth and you had a recipe for…well, you had a recipe for the school’s top jock, that’s what.

“Ripley Snyder,” Scott stated confidently. “I wanna be Ripley Snyder.”

“So be it,” the genie said without hesitation, snapping his head forward so quickly his ponytail cracked in the air like a whip. “In one week at noon, you’ll become Ripley Snyder.” With that, he vanished in a puff of smoke leaving Scott with a pounding heart and holding an empty bottle.

Perhaps because the whole incident had taken less than a minute, he started to doubt it almost immediately. I mean, c’mon! he thought. Genies don’t exist! There’s no way that I’ll really become Ripley Snyder. 

He stood there, the waves washing gently over his feet, staring down at the little bottle. It was just an old Coke bottle that someone had stuck a cork in. Aren’t genies ‘sposed to be in lamps? he wondered, rolling the mundane bottle around in his hand. Finally, deciding he’d imagined the whole thing, he pitched it over his shoulder and forgot all about it.

A week later at noon, he was getting up from his chair after his algebra class when he felt nauseous. Grabbing the desk, he staggered, feet splayed across the floor. His head was reeling and he couldn’t breathe. He closed his eyes and steadied himself, pushing himself upright. Almost as soon as it happened, it was over and he felt fine again.

“Jesus,” he muttered in a strangely deep voice, shaking his head. “That was weird.”

“You know what’s weird bro?” a strange voice said at his shoulder. “You standing at the urinal, that’s what’s weird.”

Scott’s eyes flew open and he gasped. Where the fuck was he?

The smell of piss and other less salubrious odors filled his nostrils. He blinked, looking down and realizing he was standing in front of a urinal in the boy’s bathroom. (How the fuck?!) Next to him stood José Castaño, the football team’s linebacker and Ripley Snyder’s best bro. José was staring at him with a funny expression on his broad face. Crossing his beefy arms, he leaned back on his heels and examined Scott with an arched eyebrow.

“You feelin’ Ok, bro?” he asked, thick eyebrows raised. “Did ya ferget ‘bout yer surgery or sumthin’? I mean, I guess it’s only been six weeks so I ‘spose yer still gettin’ used to it. I mean, it’s quite a big change after all.” He paused then, looking upward in reverie as he rumbled, “Fuck, just six weeks? Really? Just six weeks since ya turned eighteen and didn’t need parental consent no more?” He shook his shaggy head, looking back at Scott. “Yep, guess so! It feels like forever ‘cuz I’ve been waiting for this day fer years and years. Today, according to the doc, yer finally ready for action!”

“D-D-D-Doc? S-S-Surgery?” Scott stammered. “What surgery?”

José laughed, a deep, guttural sound, and shook his head again. Instead of answering, though, he reached out and, acting as if he did this sort of thing all the time, casually pulled Scott’s shorts down. With the top of his bare ass suddenly protruding from his shorts, Scott barely had a chance to protest before José had jabbed a needle into his right buttock. Scott struggled, yelping in pain, but it was no use. He could only stand there as the big jock injected him with some unknown substance.

“Fuck, bro! I can’t believe it!” José breathed, oblivious or not caring about Scott’s struggling. His eyes were locked on Scott’s backside and an expression of pure lust suffused his face. “You wore ‘em! You fuckin’ wore ‘em! So, ya didn’t forget after all. Ha! I knew you were juss shittin’ me with yer stupid questions. An’ standing in front of the urinal, too! Haha! What a fuckin’ stupid ‘roid pig!” Discarding the syringe in the trash, he mussed Scott’s hair fondly, adding, “But yer my stupid ‘roid pig and I love ya!”

Scott’s poor brain had shut down after José injected him with the syringe. (Had José really just given him steroids?) His head was spinning and his pulse was pounding and his skin was prickling. He had no idea how he had just teleported from his algebra class to the boy’s bathroom–and why the fuck was José Castaño here and acting so, so, so–

Then he remembered.

The genie.

The fuckin’ genie!

Scott closed his eyes, feeling his knees go weak. He’d completely forgotten about the genie and his wish. He’d wished to be Ripley Snyder and the genie had told him that the wish would be granted a week later at noon. It was now seven days later and he was pretty sure it was noon which meant…

Holy fuck!

He was Ripley fuckin’ Snyder!

He opened his eyes again and looked down at himself. Bulging pecs, an ab ladder, a narrow waist and hulking thighs. He was all but bursting out of his tight, blue tank top and a dusty pair of cargo shorts. His arms were loaded with muscles on top of muscles and his body was easily a hundred pounds heavier. As he looked at himself, he could feel the massive heft and weight of this new body. He knew that Ripley basically possessed a bodybuilder’s physique but the difference between seeing the muscles and being the muscles was astounding. He reached out a big paw and steadied himself on the steel divider beside the urinal, feeling his huge, new body rock back and forth. He was fuckin’ beast! A ‘roid beast!

A slow smile spread across his face, growing larger when he felt his new, full lips. He reached up and touched his face, giving a little start when his fingers encountered the stiff bristles of his beard. He had a beard! For the first time in his life he had a beard!

He would have let out a whoop of delight if it hadn’t been for José choosing that moment to massage his ass cheeks. (What is he doing back there?!) Scott tried to move away but José merely pushed him against the urinal, thrusting his own massive bulk against Scott’s.

“José?” he begged in a deep but quavery voice. “What’re ya–?”

“‘José’?” the big brute repeated, pushing harder against him. From the feeling being telegraphed through the back of his shorts, Scott could tell the big, hard thing pressing into the cleft of his butt wasn’t a concealed weapon. Well, then again, maybe it was. It was definitely concealed and might conceivably be a weapon…but it was no gun.  “Why’re ya being so formal, Rip?” José continued. “I’m yer Paco. Yer big man Paco.” He leaned down and put his lips on the back of Scott’s neck and kissed him before tracing his name in saliva with his tongue. Scott moaned in horrified confusion as he felt each wet, sloppy letter: P-A-C-O. 

Paco laughed when he was finished, clearly proud of himself. “Yer my lil’ bitch, Rip. And don’t ya never ferget it! ‘Course, not that ya can now that me an’ the guys made ya get that surgery.” He burst out laughing at this, his big hands kneading Scott’s ass cheeks and his hot body trapping him against the urinal. At that moment, the door opened and a surprised freshman entered the bathroom, causing Paco to bark, “Get out NOW, ya fucktard! And don’t let nobody else in here for at least a half hour. Got it?” The boy squeaked his fearful assent and scurried out. After that, they could hear him meekly telling anyone who came near the bathroom to go the other way.

Paco chuckled to himself before turning back to the business at hand. Or maybe that’s the business at behind? Scott writhed as Paco renewed his lusty onslaught but he couldn’t escape. Too late, he understood why Ripley and Paco were so inseparable: They weren’t just friends, they were boyfriends! He had no idea that Ripley Snyder was gay. If he had, he certainly never would have made that wish!

Soon, Paco had worked Scott’s shorts down around his ankles. Wait? What am I wearing for underwear? he wondered in a panic. From the breeze down there, he could tell it wasn’t very much. When Paco stepped back and fiddled with his own shorts, belt jingling ominously, Scott glanced quickly downward and promptly wished he hadn’t.

Panties!

He was wearing a pair of fucking pink panties!

And not just any pair of pink panties; he had on a lace thong. He could feel the string riding up the crack of his ass.

What the fuck kind of sick bastard was Ripley Snyder anyway???!!!

“Ha! Yer such a lil’ slut!” Paco crowed, clearly savoring Scott’s reaction to being pantsed in a public restroom while wearing only a tiny thong for underwear. “When I tole ya to wear ‘em today, I didn’t think ya had the balls.” He paused before snorting with derisive laughter, “Well, I guess ya don’t anymore! Haha!”

“Paco, puh-lease!” Scott/Ripley whined, voice going up an octave from distress. “I don’t wanna–”

“Ya know,” Paco continued, ignoring him. “I think I’ll leave ‘em on while I take ya from behind.” Reaching out, he traced a fat finger down the crack of Scott’s ass, pulling the thong string aside. Scott braced with disgust and shock when the big jock paused, pushing against his rosebud. There was a breathless moment while Scott’s poor brain tried to process what was happening and then there was a wet pop and Paco’s finger was inside him. “Fuck!” the jock exclaimed. “Yer a gaping lil’ slut, ain’t ya? Ha! ‘Course, I guess I’m the one to blame for that. Stretched ya out, didn’t I? I’m surprised you don’t need to wear Depends after all the abuse I’ve put yer hole through!”

Ripley let out a pathetic wail as Paco’s finger probed inside him. He yelped in startled surprise when he hit his prostate, arching his back and inadvertently sticking his butt out further. This emboldened Paco and he laughed again, pulling his finger out and sniffing it before stepping back. Ripley’s breathing was loud in his ears but not so loud that he didn’t hear the telltale squelching sound of lube followed by distinct fapping. Shaking with fear at what he knew was about to happen, he looked over his shoulder at Paco and gaped.

Paco was hung.

Like a fucking stallion! Or a donkey! Or a mule! Or a stallion-donkey! Or a stallion-donkey-mule! Or whatever! The bottom line was that he was big.

His dark-skinned cock with its saggy, floppy foreskin wasn’t so much long as fat.

Stupendously fat.

It was as big around as a beer can.

And then there was his cockhead.

When Paco slicked back (or tried to) his voluminous foreskin, Ripley gasped at the shiny, mutant mushroom head that was revealed. Paco smirked at Ripley’s reaction, winking at him salaciously and squeezing more lube onto his monster cock.

“Ya want it, don’t ya, bitch?” he goaded. “I know ya can’t resist a ride of my trusty steed.” He reached out and slathered Ripley’s hole with lube, inserting a trio of fingers inside him as he did so. Ripley couldn’t help it; he moaned with pleasure. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Paco wasn’t gentle. He forced Ripley to bend over and cling to the disgusting urinal while he fucked him savagely from behind. Scott/Ripley whimpered in abject humiliation and horror as he felt his hole violated in the worst way possible. Paco rode him hard, thrusting deeper and deeper and harder and harder until he was dripping with sweat and bawling like a stuck bull. When he exploded inside Ripley, he could feel his insides filling with molten spunk that dribbled down his thighs when Paco finally pulled out. His hole was on fire and his body was sore and he felt completely humiliated. What made his cheeks burn with shame, though, was the undeniable fact that he was incredibly aroused. How could he get turned on by being raped? He was wrong. He was perverse! He was disgusting! He was filthy!

And he loved it.

Every fucking thrust. Every slap. Every derogatory insult. Everything. All of it.

He was sick.

Oblivious to poor Ripley’s devastated confusion, Paco cleaned up at the sink, splashing himself with water and rubbing himself down with paper towels. His big, broad, furry chest was puffed out and he was grinning from ear to ear with pride. His fat cock–still half hard–bobbed salaciously between his hairy, meaty thighs. Rather than getting dressed again, though, he stripped out of the rest of his clothes and walked around proudly naked. Even after it gradually became flaccid, his uncut cock was still hugely fat, sagging down from his dense black pubes like a king-sized salami. 

Padding over to Ripley, Paco extended a big hand and hauled him over to the sink where he proceeded to clean him up as well. When he was done, he pulled Ripley’s shirt up over his head and tossed it aside, leaving him clad only in the ridiculous thong.

Ripley teetered there, butt aching and head spinning. He couldn’t get used to being in this new, bloated body. Too late, as he stared at his reflection, he realized that all that stupendous bulk was anything but attractive. His veiny, papery skin was overstuffed with muscles to the point of being a steroidal parody of a jock’s physique. The muscles were so distended and hulking that they didn’t look real. Worse, his body was so heavy that he could barely stand! Why the fuck had he ever wanted to be Ripley Snyder?

“There,” Paco announced, humming absently to himself. “Now for the silicone.”

Ripley stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Wait, what? S-S-Sili–”

“C’mon, bitch. We’ve talked ‘bout this a thousand times! It’s part of the deal. First, surgery and then silicone.! I’ve been practicing for weeks on my girlfriend’s tits and I got it down!” He turned and picked up his backpack which he’d discarded on the bathroom floor, extracting two big, plastic bags that appeared to be filled with a clear, viscous liquid. Holding one up for Ripley’s inspection, he said, “One hundred percent pure, surgical-grade silicone, dude. And it’s all for you. Well, most of it. I wanna shoot some into my cock and balls to make ‘em even bigger.”

Ripley backed away from Paco, hands up. He nearly keeled over; his movements were jerky and uncontrolled because he couldn’t get used to the immense weight of this new, bloated body. Even in this pathetic condition, though, he had no intention of letting Paco inject him with that stuff! ‘Roids were bad enough but silicone! And where did he think he was going to inject it? In his breasts? Did Paco want to give him breast implants???!!!

Paco set his jaw and stalked toward him. Ripley took an unsteady step backward and then another, only to find himself trapped inside a bathroom stall with no escape. “Perfect, my lil’ ‘roid pig, perfect,” Paco praised, closing the door behind him. “Now turn around and lemme at those luscious cakes!”

An hour later, Ripley staggered out of the stall with a liter or so of fresh silicone added to each butt cheek. His ass felt ridiculously huge! And heavy! He hung his head as he tried to step into his cargo shorts and found that he could barely tug them up over those newly inflated mounds. When he turned and looked over his shoulder at himself in the mirror, he nearly cried.

He looked like a fuckin’ freak!

“Fuggin’ hawt, bro,” Paco praised, staring at him lasciviously as he massaged his now even fatter cock. As promised, Paco had filled his own cock and balls with plenty of silicone after he finished with Ripley’s ass. In fact, he’d injected himself with so much that he’d nearly doubled the girth of his huge fuckstick. And his balls…shit, he’d filled his hairy sac so full it looked like he was hiding a melon in there! 

Paco noticed him staring and glanced down at himself with a stupid grin. “Guess I went a little overboard, huh?” He shrugged his huge shoulders, adding, “But it feels so awesome, bro! An’ at least now, my shaft’s as thick as my fuckin’ crazy-ass cockhead. I fuggin’ love a full sac and a monster cock!” To emphasize this, he jacked his mutant fuckstick, making his heavy ball sac sway back and forth. A low moan escaped his lips. Ripley couldn’t help noticing that his cock was so girthy he had to use both hands.

Paco looked up at him then and, catching him staring, winked. “Guess yer gonna be even more stretched now. Huh, slut?”

Ripley opened his mouth but no sound came out for a long time. Finally, he managed to croak, “I…I…I gotta pee.” As he said it, he realized it was true; his bladder was about ready to burst. With everything else happening, he could be forgiven for neglecting his bodily needs.

Paco grinned, motioning to the bathroom stall. “Be my guest, Rip. My only request is I wanna watch.”

Ripley blanched, swallowing. Instead of going into the stall, though, he wobbled over to the urinal. Unbuttoning his shorts was a chore now that his ass cheeks had doubled in size but not as much of a chore as struggling to pull them down far enough so he could liberate his member.

“Uh, what’re ya doin’?” Paco asked, leaning against the partition as Ripley wrestled his fly open. “Ya know that’s not gonna work, right?”

“I’m taking a piss!” Ripley hissed, annoyed by Paco’s smug attitude. “What does it look like I’m doin’?”

Paco merely grinned, leaning in closer to watch as Ripley finally succeeded in manhandling his skintight shorts down far enough to free his cock. He felt like he was going to explode!

At first, he didn’t think much of it. The panties he was wearing were even tighter than his shorts and hugged his equipment so tightly that everything was basically squished flat down there. Having seen Ripley’s massive cock and balls on display in the locker room on many occasions, though, Scott wasn’t worried. Until…

“WHAT THE FUCK???!!!” he yelled, yanking his hands away from his crotch in horror. “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO ME???!!!”

“Tole ya,” Paco smirked, reaching out to put his big hand on Ripley’s forehead. “Did ya hit yer head or sumthin’? Or are ya just in denial? I mean, I know it wasn’t yer idea but it has been six weeks since the surgery so you’ve had plenty of time to adjust.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it don’t matter. You’ll never be able to piss in a urinal again, bro. C’mon, let’s get ya over to the toilet. I’ll help ya out.”

Frozen in shock at what he’d just…touched…down there, Ripley didn’t resist as Paco guided him over to the stall where he helped him to work his shorts back down over those enormously swollen cakes. Then, while Ripley closed his eyes and refused to look down, Paco gently rolled the panties downward and urged him to sit on the clammy seat. Once seated, he winced in pain. The silicone in his buttocks burned! And he had to flail his arms to keep his balance because his butt was so big and round.

“There ya go, Rip, let ‘er rip,” Paco said, snickering. “I’ll wipe ya when yer done.”

Chest quivering and fighting back hot tears, Ripley piddled like the little bitch that he was, or that he’d been forced to become at least. The sound of the pathetic tinkling echoed out of the toilet bowl, reverberating through his brain like the tolling of funeral bells. Paco reached down and dabbed him when the last of his pee dribbled out. Ripley braced at the alien sensation of toilet paper on that…that…that…thing…down there.

“Fuckin’ hot, bro!” Paco said, shaking his head. “Even my gf won’t let me do that.” He mussed Ripley’s hair (with the same hand he’d just wiped him with), musing, “Who knows, bro? With you like this, maybe I don’t need a girlfriend no more. Maybe I got everything I could ever want in you?”

Ripley shuddered in revulsion, finally losing his battle against the tears and crying openly. Soon, he was sobbing, holding his big jughead in his fat hands and feeling generally horrible. What the fuck had he done? Why the fuck had he ever wished to be Ripley Snyder? He was trapped in his worst nightmare.

“Aw, bro,” Paco murmured, leaning down and cradling him in his beefy arms. “‘S Ok. Really, bro, it’s Ok.” He rubbed Ripley’s mounded shoulders, pulling his head against his muscular chest. “I’m sorry! I forget how hard it must be for ya. So many changes so fast! I mean, me an’ the guys basically took yer manhood away. Even though we talked ‘bout this day for a long time, your new reality can still be tough to handle, huh?” When this made Ripley sob even louder, he sighed, lowering himself down onto his lap and urging Ripley to wrap his arms around him. Ripley responded reflexively, clinging to Paco like a liferaft and burying his face in his musky armpit.

He cried until his tears ran out and then sat there, holding Paco while his buddy stroked his back. Finally, Paco patted his shoulder and stood up, helping to heave Ripley to his feet. The bathroom was full of boys by then as lunch hour came to an end and Ripley stood at the door of the stall uncertainly. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to see him like this!

Paco responded to Ripley’s hesitation by helping him to pull up his panties and then wrestled his shorts over those giant, inflated buttocks. After much grunting, he managed to secure the top button on the shorts. Then, smoothing Ripley’s wrinkled tank top down over his washboard abs, he patted him gently on the jello-y ass, saying, “There. All better. Now, be good lil’ gurl and go out there an’ grab my clothes.” He looked down at his nakedness, his silicone-engorged member wobbling heavily between his bowed legs. “I left ‘em out there and I’m feelin’ kinda shy for some reason.”

Ripley staggered numbly out of the stall, ignoring the curious expressions on the faces of the boys at the urinals. It was labor bending over to pick up Paco’s discarded clothing, mostly because he had to do so without splitting the seams on the back of his shorts, but he finally succeeded. He hobbled back into the stall on wooden legs, keenly aware of the eyes glued to his immense backside. Muted snickering filled the air and he hunched his shoulders in shame, feeling his ears turn bright red.

Paco accepted his clothes gratefully, making a big show of stepping into his soiled jockstrap. “Geesh, guess I’m gonna need a bigger cup!” he bragged, clearly savoring the way his package stuffed the jock to overflowing. “Hehe, big dick problems.” Ripley scowled in response but Paco didn’t notice; he was too busy trying to stuff his mutant sausage into his shorts.

When he was dressed, his bulge jutted out luridly in front of him, making its enhanced proportions impossible to ignore. Anyone who saw him took note of it, providing a strange balm for Ripley. If everyone was busy ogling Paco’s crotch, they paid less attention to his massive bubble butt…

***

Part 2

The rest of the day was a blur and Ripley would never have made it through without Paco’s help. His big, burly friend stayed by his side, never leaving him for a moment. Wherever he went, Paco was right there, his meaty hand on his shoulder or on his leg or, when no one could see, on his ass. During the last hour, they sat at the back of their English class, shoulder to hulking shoulder, as Ripley’s chest quivered uncontrollably. When Paco worked his hand around the back of the chair and started playing with the string of his thong, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let the big brute tease his aching hole. Paco tugged the string up and down, up and down, gradually driving Ripley mad with slowly burning arousal. The lust rapidly evaporated, though, when Ripley felt a telltale warmth and moistness spreading through his groin. He leaned forward and put his melon head down on the desk, hating himself and that fucking genie for granting him his wish. 

When his immense shoulders began shuddering with the effort of holding back another bout of tears, Paco moved his roving hand to his back and patted him. “C’mon, bro,” he murmured. “It’s almost time. Let’s go.”

He helped Ripley out of his chair and led him out of the class ten minutes early. The teacher had her back to them and didn’t notice their departure, although a number of other students did and could barely conceal their laughter when Ripley turned his back. He distinctly heard the words, ‘Bimbo-licious Booty,’ as the door closed behind him.

Paco led him down the hall to the boy’s locker room. It was empty and would be for at least another hour. Standing in front of a row of lockers that reeked heavily of mildew, he urged Ripley to get undressed, saying, “You gotta shower, bro. Yer B.O. is really ripe and ya gotta smell pretty when the boys get here.” When Ripley looked at him questioningly, he sighed. “Just get undressed. We only got a half hour.”

When Ripley still hesitated, Paco took charge and stripped him bare, eventually leading him by the nipples into the showers. Ripley gave a start of shock at this, looking down and seeing for the first time the huge rings stretching out his nipples. How fuck hadn’t he noticed them before now? Jesus Christ, the rings were big! And those nipples!

Fuck.

He had a pair of fucking udders.

It must be the steroids, he thought frantically. The ‘roids gave me a honkin’ pair of bitch tits! No, he reminded him sternly, the ‘roids gave Ripley a honkin’ pair of bitch tits.

“Another one of my ideas,” Paco confided, noticing Ripley’s horrified stare. “Juss like yer surgery. I’m the best bro a bro could have, ain’t I? Next, I’m gonna get ya a tramp stamp. With a huge slut butt like yers, ya gotta have a big tramp stamp! I want everyone who sees you to know you’re my bitch.”

Ripley whined in response but Paco had him by the tit rings and he had no choice but to follow along. While Paco positioned him in front of the shower and  turned on the nozzle, he stood there with his eyes closed, feeling his heart pound and the conspicuous absence of anything between his legs. What the fuck had Paco done to him?

“Ungh!”

He didn’t mean to do it but the sound escaped his lips when Paco reached down and fondled him…down there. Taking his reaction as an invitation, Paco wriggled his fingers, nearly causing Ripley to fall down. The…sensations…coming from down there were incredible!

“Cunt lips,” Paco pronounced, working a finger in deeper and making Ripley writhe in pleasure. “Ha. Never thought I’d be fingering my best bro’s pussy. What a miracle! Those docs did amazing work!”

Ripley mewled, teeth clenched. He both hated and loved the feeling reverberating from his groin region. It was a completely new experience for him and he couldn’t help being a little carried away by the novelty. So this is what it’s like to be a girl, he thought, wonder and horror washing over him in equal measure. Despite himself, he found himself stepping closer to Paco who responded by pushing his fingers in deeper.

“Huh, what a slut!” Paco jeered, but his tone held a note of something else. Was it pride? Ownership? “Yer my little cockslut ‘roid pig. You like that don’t ya? You really like it. Do you want me to stick sumthin’ else in there? Sumthin’ bigger? Fatter? Harder? Manlier?”

In answer, Ripley’s lips found Paco’s and he kissed his friend deeply, sticking his tongue all the way inside and inviting Paco’s tongue to master him, dominate him and use him. Paco, taken aback by the sudden ferocity of Ripley’s attack, froze but recovered quickly. Only too happy to abuse his bro, he clamped one hand over Ripley’s new cunt and took the back of his head in his other, pummeling him into submission down below with both his fat fingers and up above with his molten-hot tongue. The spray from the showers washed over them as they lost themselves in a scintillating cascade of bliss.

They were about to take it to the next level when someone cleared his throat behind them and a stern voice called out, “Mr. Castaño, this wasn’t in the agreement. Let him go. Now.”

Paco stiffened, his hands instantly falling away from Ripley’s body. They turned sheepishly to find Coach Stephens standing behind them, taping his foot. The coach was a young guy, barely out of college, but he was at least as tall as Paco even if he wasn’t quite as beefy. He glared at Paco, disapproval etched on his handsome face. As Ripley turned to face him, though, the coach’s gaze was inexorably drawn away from Paco to the nubile pussy gaping between Ripley’s powerful thighs. All of the harshness faded from his face as he took in the sight, the bizarre and incredible sight of what had become of Ripley’s former man parts. 

For his part, Ripley was frozen in place, conflicted about what to do. Part of him wanted to turn and run away and the other part was just as captivated by the coach’s regard as the coach was captivated by his freshly-minted cunt. He’d never had a man look at him like that and it sort of thrilled him. As he gazed back at Coach Stephens, the virile stud reached out to steady himself on the wall while unconsciously reaching down to knead his rapidly tenting trousers.

Why hadn’t he noticed Coach Stephens before? He’d always been too afraid of the man to do anything but scurry out of his wake as he breezed by in the hallways of the school. Stephens was a math teacher during the day and the football coach after school. He was tall with a wiry physique and copious body hair. His brown beard was thick but nicely kept and his brown eyes were both penetrating and intelligent. His dark brown hair was long but he kept it swept back and styled in place. As he studied Ripley’s naked body, though, a strand of that thick hair slipped free and dangled down across his left eye. He pushed it away absently, mouth falling open in awe.

He stood there for a long time without saying a word but when Ripley finally moved to cover himself, Coach Stephens stopped him. “Don’t. Move.” Next to him, Paco crossed his arms and exhaled in annoyance. When he attempted to move in front of Ripley and block the coach’s view, Stephens stopped him, too. 

There was a tense standoff for a few moments before Coach Stephens prevailed and Paco, glowering hatefully, stepped out of his way. His last barrier removed, the coach turned back to Ripley, ogling his cunted crotch. “Holy. Fuck. It’s real,” he breathed. “You really did it.” He took a step closer, hand still massaging his groin. “I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it. It’s…fucking incredible!”

“He didn’t have no choice,” Paco stated with clear disdain. “I made him do it. He does whatever the fuck I tell him to.”

Coach Stephens’ gaze flicked briefly over to Paco and then back to Ripley’s man cunt. Ripley’s hands hovered near his crotch but he didn’t make any attempt to cover himself. “That may be true,” Stephens rumbled, “but I believe I contributed, too, Mr. Castaño. Me and half the football team paid for his surgery. And now it’s time we got our money’s worth. That’s why I’m here today: To collect my dues.”

“Not until the rest of the guys get here!” Paco shouted, pushing Ripley out of the way and drawing himself up to his full impressive height. Even though he wasn’t as tall as Stephens, he was still imposing and the coach took a step backward. “We agreed on doing this fair an’ square. We’re gonna draw lots to see who fucks his pussy first.”

“Wait, what?!” Ripley demanded, finally breaking free of the spell that had kept him immobilized before Coach Stephens. “What did you say?”

“Shut up, bitch,” Paco spat and Ripley fell silent. Turning back to Stephens, Paco continued, “Yer right. I got a little carried away just now but his cunt virginity’s still intact. Now let’s get him ready for breaking in. The guys’ll be here any minute.” He reached back and turned off the shower before grabbing a towel and proceeding to dry Ripley off.

For a moment, Coach Stephens seemed like he would object but he relented at the raucous sound of the other guys entering the locker room. Frowning with disappointment, he backed off and let Paco get Ripley dressed.

Five minutes later found Ripley attired in full football gear…full pink football gear, that is. Somehow, Paco had procured a very sexy, slutty football uniform made entirely out of sheer pink tulle. It was mostly transparent which meant his lacey pink thong was clearly visible underneath. Even the thong was football-themed with the school’s mascot, a grinning polecat, emblazoned on the scant triangle of fabric covering Ripley’s crotch. The thong was so tiny that it made his complete absence of man parts excruciatingly obvious.

Ripley’s cheeks burned red and he modestly covered his crotch when Coach Stephens and half the members of the highschool football team encircled him. The hulking brutes leaned in close, heat and musk and palpable lust emanating from their beefy bodies as they leered down at him. Most of them were unabashedly massaging their groins as they took in the sight of their quarterback clad in such revealing and whorish attire.

“Alright, everyone take a step back,” Paco ordered, pushing several of the guys away before they could touch Ripley. “Let’s follow the rules. We all paid our share for Ripley’s surgery and now our reward is his cunt to play with. Ripley’s not leaving here until we each get our chance to fuck him. Now take out yer phones and let’s see who goes first.”

Ripley jumped at these words and would have bolted if Paco hadn’t stopped him. Placing a firm hand on his elbow, he held Ripley in place even as he took his phone out of his pocket and opened the school’s two-factor authentication app.

“Who’s recording this?” Paco asked, looking around the group. “We gotta get this for posterity.” When no one volunteered, he sighed, saying, “Fine. I’ll do it. But one of ya fuckers is gonna take my phone when it’s my turn. I plan on jacking off to the video many, many times.” Ripley squeaked in protest but Paco ignored him, continuing, “Now, y’all got the random number generator open?” He looked around, making sure that everyone nodded. Several of the guys held up their phones to show him proof. When he was satisfied, Paco grunted, “Ok, you know the rules: The guy with the highest number goes first. Ready? Then go!”

Every guy excitedly pressed the appropriate button on his smartphone, hoping he would be the lucky winner. After a few seconds, Coach Stephens asked, “Who’s got the high number? Hold up yer phones, boys. I’ll verify.” A sea of hands shot up as the guys showed the coach the numbers on their phones. Not trusting Stephens, Paco looked on to check his work. “999 079,” the coach read off, staring dejectedly at a phone thrust in his face. (His own number was 732 421.) “Anyone got a number higher than that?”

“I do,” a quavering voice called out. “I got a higher number. Mine’s 999 429!”

This was greeted with a chorus of groans as the crowd parted and a young guy stepped forward. Coach Stephens and Paco both stopped him, though, before he could approach Ripley. “Let’s see that phone,” Stephens said, taking it and staring down at the screen as Paco looked over his shoulder. A moment later, his shoulders sagged in defeat as he admitted, “It’s legit. His number is the highest.”

More groans. Everyone stepped away from Ripley, giving the guy access to his prize, but at the last moment Paco barred the winner’s way. “Wait a minute!” he shouted. “Yer not on the football team!  This little event’s not open to the public. Only those of us who paid for Ripley’s surgery can play!”

“But I did pay,” the meek voice replied. “I just transferred enough money to cover the outstanding hospital balance. Check the Kickstarter site if you don’t believe me.”

A firestorm of anger erupted at these words as Coach Stephens and Paco confronted the mysterious guy. There were many heated words exchanged before several guys pulled out their phones and checked to see if the dude was lying.

He spoke the truth: The young guy really had paid off the remaining two thousand dollars of Ripley’s bill. 

When Paco had exhausted all of his strategies to cockblock the upstart’s access to Ripley’s pussy, he reluctantly moved aside. His face was red and his fists were clenched and he looked like he would lose his shit at any moment. But, he knew he was beaten and he had no choice but to concede.

The crowd parted and Ripley had his first look at his would-be inseminator.

He blinked.

No way!

The guy standing before him with slouching shoulders, a paunchy belly and pimply cheeks was completely forgettable in every respect. There was something about him that made you just not notice him. He was one of those rare people who blended into every crowd, a guy who didn’t stand out in a way, who moved through life like a half-forgotten shadow. He could be anyone or no one and you didn’t care because he was so unobtrusive.

His hair was a mouse nest of mousy brown hair.

His eyes were the color of dirty dishwater.

His face was plain.

His complexion was slightly brown and his features were muddled, making it unclear exactly what race or ethnicity he might be. He could be Latino or Chinese or Arabic or North African or Caucasian…or really anything.

His stature was unremarkable.

He was neither skinny nor fat.

His clothes were dull grey and brown.

His shoes were scuffed.

In short, he was…just average.

In every way.

He was also unknown to every man present, except for Ripley. Oh, yes, Ripley knew exactly who he was. He knew him intimately because, until just hours ago, he had spent his entire life being that guy. With sick certainty, he knew he was looking down at his former self: Scott Travers.

Scott’s expression was unreadable as he approached Ripley. He halted a couple paces away, looking up at him while Ripley stood there blinking. It was profoundly disorienting to look down at his old body and find it occupied by a complete stranger. Scott was apparently feeling the same way because a wave of emotion crossed his bland features before disappearing, leaving a customary blankness in its place. Then he squared his slight shoulders and drew himself up to this fully (very average) height and, pitching his voice loud, ordered, “Out. Everyone out of here now. I want Ripley to myself. It’s my right as the winner.”

There was a soporific quality to his tone that made one feel sleepy just listening to him but somehow the little guy managed to overcome this with the forcefulness of his command. Ripley watched in surprise as the assembled crowd–including Coach Stephens–obediently turned and left.

Everyone except Paco, that is.

The big linebacker stood defiantly beside Ripley, crossing his meaty arms and looming over the little guy. “I’m staying,” he stated flatly. “Ripley’s mine. I’ll let ya fuck his new pussy but only so long as I’m right here. Got it?”

Coach Stephens stopped on his way out the door, clearly intending to haul Paco out by force if necessary, but he changed his mind at a shake of the head from Scott. Giving Ripley and his pussy one last, longing glance, he closed the door behind him. 

Scott sighed as he gazed up at the giant jock, assessing him. Finally, he shuffled closer and stood up on his tiptoes to whisper in Paco’s ear. Whatever he said caused Paco to bark in surprise. There was more indecipherable mumbling and finally Paco fell silent and looked back at Ripley with a haunted expression. And then he turned and departed. 

Ripley and Scott were alone together in the locker room.

“I don’t know whether to slap or kiss you,” Scott said finally in his dull monotone. “I kinda wanna do both.”

Ripley stood there, frozen. He didn’t know how to reply. The situation was too bizarre. I mean, what do you say to the person whose body and identity you’ve stolen?

When he remained mute, Scott sighed again, sticking his average-sized hands in his pockets. “I could save you, you know,” he murmured. “I mean, I don’t know how this happened but we could probably find a way to undo it. You could have your old life back and I could finally be free of Paco.”

“F-F-F-Free?”

Scott looked up at him, his bland expression slightly puzzled. “Yeah, free from Paco. You know he’s a fuckin’ monster, don’t ya? He made my–I mean, your–life a living hell. I couldn’t get away from him.” He paused, thin lips cracking in a small smile. “Until now, that is. That’s why I’m not too mad about…” He looked down at his thoroughly unimpressive body and wrinkled his nose in distaste, finishing, “About this. At least I still got a dick, even if it’s the size of a peanut.”

Ripley hung his head, swallowing hard. As he looked down at himself, he was forced to take in the full brunt of his ‘roided physique. His swollen nipples and sagging tits, his papery skin and bulging veins, his grotesque muscles and the sheer weight of his body. (His knees were aching just from the stress of standing upright!) And then there was his silicone-filled booty and man cunt. He was a total freak! And, if Paco had his way, he’d be an even bigger freak soon. The jock had plans for Ripley; the cunt was just the beginning.

Reading his thoughts, Scott asked, “Is this what you want? To be his personal fucktoy and slave? ‘Cuz that’s what you are. If you go back to him, you’ll never get away. This is yer last chance, dude.” He extended his slight hand and wiggled his fingers enticingly, “Come with me. Escape from Paco and have yer own life. We’ll make it work somehow. We got each other, don’t we?”

Ripley stared at the proffered hand, heart thumping in his cavernous chest. He knew he should leave, that life as Ripley Snyder was a nightmare, a never-ending nightmare if he chose to stay. Leaving with Scott was objectively his best chance to regain at least some normalcy. He could go back to the doctors and see if they could restore his cock somehow. He could stop taking steroids and remove the hideous tit rings. He could have the silicone pumped out of his ass. It hadn’t been in there very long, surely there must be a way to remove it safely? In the end, he could have most of what he wanted: Ripley Snyder’s body and beauty. That would be enough, wouldn’t it? Yeah, that would be enough.

“I’m staying,” he said, surprising both Scott and himself with the words.

Scott blinked. “Really? You can’t be–”

“I am,” Ripley stated, smiling grimly. “I belong to Paco.” He paused then as a fun and exciting idea struck him for the first time. “And Coach Stephens. I’m their toy. To use as they see fit.”

Plain little Scott’s mouth went slack with confusion at this. For a while, he seemed like he would try to talk Ripley out of his decision but then thought better of it. In the end, he reached down and unbuckled his belt, saying, “Ok. I won’t pretend I understand but, if that’s yer decision, let’s get down to business. I’ve always wanted to fuck myself!”

He pushed his pants down around his knobby ankles, exposing his very modest erection. His penis was circumcised, perhaps five inches long and pencil thin. Nothing about it stood out as exemplary, much like the rest of him.

As Ripley stared in surprise, Scott launched himself at him and tore through the layers of pink tulle, finally removing the thong with his teeth. Somehow, he managed to push Ripley backward onto his overly full cakes and then proceeded to fuck his new pussy with abandon. Ripley just lay there in shock, unmoving. Scott’s member was so average that he barely felt it penetrating him. It was like being fucked by a hampster.

Scott grunted and moaned and fondled Ripley’s tits, tugging on the huge rings and planting a sloppy kiss on his mouth as he climaxed. His little load–barely more than a teaspoon–was swallowed up inside Ripley’s man cunt, quickly forgotten much like Scott.

After he was done, Scott pushed himself to his feet and, fastening his belt around his protruding belly, nodded down at Ripley. “Well, thanks, dude. That was fun. I’ll see ya around.” He was starting to leave when he called over his shoulder, “Have fun being Paco’s ‘roid slut. I hope you enjoy it!”

***

Ripley was gang-raped by the football team. Forced onto his hands and knees, he took cock after cock up his cunt and in his mouth, sucking and bucking and pleasuring guy after guy in what seemed like an endless succession. By the time it over, he was leaking cum from every orifice, fucked raw and sore all over. His body was drenched in sweat and he wanted to collapse.

He’d never been happier, though.

After the first half hour or so, he lost himself in the experience, allowing himself to become the one thing he never knew he wanted to be: A receptacle for cum, a bag of flesh and silicone with a gaping cunt whose only purpose was to be used by any and every man who came along. It was transcendent!

‘I’ve found my calling,’ he thought, drifting on a pink haze of bliss. ‘I’ve found my true self!’ And he had the genie to thank for it. His wish really had come true!

“Now it’s my turn.”

He looked up from the cum puddle he was lying in to see Paco’s meaty, silicone-filled cock pointing heavily down at him. As he stared, a thick wad of precum belched out from the gaping piss slit and landed square on his cunt with a wet splatter. He flinched. Everything about Paco was big and heavy.

Paco was preparing to launch himself on top of Ripley when a voice stopped him. “Too late, Mr. Castaño. Wrestling practice starts in fifteen minutes and you gotta clean up this mess.”

Paco tore his gaze away from Ripley’s splayed cunt lips to stare in disbelief at Coach Stephens. “What!?” he protested. “You can’t–”

Coach Stephens smirked. “Oh, but I can. Yer done here. Time to move along.”

Paco’s eyes flared red but, rather than arguing, he capitulated. Bending over to grab Ripley by the wrist, he said, “It’s Ok, dude. We’ll continue this at my place. C’mon!”

“No.”

The word hit Paco like a slap in the face and he stared down in stunned surprise at Ripley. Before he could protest, though, Ripley continued, “I’m going home with Coach Stephens–”

“The FUCK you are!” Paco shouted, cutting him off. “Yer mine. MINE, you hear! Yer MY little cockslut! Today was special. From now on, no one–” he turned to face Coach Stephens, repeating, “NO ONE. No one touches you ‘cept for me!”

Ripley looked from Paco to Coach Stephens, noting the surprise and pride written across the latter’s face and the boiling rage and jealousy contorting the former’s. When Paco moved to grab him, he held up a hand, begging, “Listen to me, Paco! You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say that I’m going home with Coach Stephens and you. You both own me now. I belong only to the two of you.”

Paco’s mouth fell open at this. Clearly, it had never occurred to him that Ripley would assert himself, much less go against his wishes. As he stood there, chest heaving, Ripley watched the wheels slowly begin to turn in his head. After a moment, he made up his mind. He raised himself up and squared his massive shoulders and rounded on Coach Stephens, challenging, “I’ll share him with you on one condition.”

“And that is?” Coach Stephen’s tone was pure steel.

“You gotta beat me,” Paco said, punching a fist menacingly into his open palm. “If ya win, you ‘an me will share Rip and his pussy.”

Stephens’ eyes narrowed as he muttered through clenched teeth, “Game. On.” 

He was already launching himself at Paco before the last word ever left his lips. The ensuing donnybrook was vicious, unrestrained and brutal. The two big studs pummeled each other senseless as Ripley stared up at them aghast. He’d never had anyone fight over him before and, as disturbing as it was, he also kind of liked it.

By the end, his naked body was spattered with their blood and both men were bruised and broken and bleeding. The winner, however, was clear: Coach Stephens prevailed against Paco. He might not be as muscular and strong as the linebacker but he was fast on his feet and precise with his fists. He later revealed that he’d been a boxer for several years in college.

Paco collapsed on his knees, hands over his head, crying out in defeat. “Ok! Ok! I yield! I yield! I’ll share him with you!”

Coach Stephens laughed triumphantly, gamely reaching down to help Paco to his feet while patting him on the back. “You fight good, bro. Real good. You almost had me.” It was true; the coach was nearly as battered as Paco. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and he had two black eyes. When he smiled, Ripley saw that his front tooth was missing.

The two big men regarded each other for a long time before both broke into grins. Their faces shone with something that Ripley would later understand to be mutual respect. Sometimes, Ripley learned that day, guys just have to pound the shit out of each other in order to work things out. It’s dumb and unnecessary but, then again, so are most men.

***

The fight led to the best make-up sex of Ripley’s life. (Not that he’d ever had sex, much less make-up sex before that day.) After cleaning up the mess in the locker room, Coach Stephens drove Paco and Ripley to his apartment where Ripley proceeded to patch up his men as best as he could. He dabbed their bruises with iodine and bandaged their cuts with gauze. And then he made them both dinner, insisting they rest while he did so. It took him a while to find his way around the coach’s kitchen but they didn’t mind; both guys watched his every move with a look that was as predatory as it was fond.

After a lingering shower, it was finally time for Paco to carry him into Coach Stephen’s bedroom. (The coach would have protested but he knew that Paco was the only one strong enough to lift Ripley’s immense bulk.) He lay him down on the mattress and pulled away the towel he’d wrapped him in after rinsing off. Ripley lay there staring up at his men, feeling self-conscious as they admired his freshly-cleaned cunt lips glistening in the dim light.

In a move that surprised both Ripley and Coach Stephens, Paco undressed the coach, leaving him standing naked and aroused before them. Ripley blushed. It felt weird to see his teacher and coach naked and sporting an erection.

And what an erection it was!

Coach Stephen’s cock was long and hard and throbbing. It jutted out from his bushy pubes like a saber, not nearly as fat as Paco’s monster but easily four inches longer. He grinned at both of them as he slicked back the foreskin and grabbed the lube on his bed stand. Soon, his proud manhood was glowing moist and ready for some (slightly-used) man pussy.

Not to be outdone, Paco disrobed and made a big show of displaying his silicone-enhanced cock. When erect, though, it was too heavy to stand up and instead pointed listlessly downward like a partially amputated elephant trunk. His nutsac–bigger than a melon–was extra ballast that didn’t help in his cock’s losing battle with gravity.

Coach Stephens regarded his rival’s cock with amusement. “Guess I get his pussy all to myself,” he bragged. “There’s no way that thing’ll fit.”

“The fuck you do!” Paco swore, pushing the coach out of his way and having at Ripley’s cunt. Ripley braced, fearing that his poor pussy would be torn asunder by such a massive piece of meat but, after much huffing and puffing and pushing and straining, poor Paco was forced to admit defeat. Coach Stephens was right: His cock really was too big for Ripley’s cunt. In his reckless enthusiasm to make his big cock the alpha to end all alphas, he’d overdone it with the silicone and now could never fuck a pussy again.

Sweating and red-faced, he hung his head in shame and humiliation. He straddled Ripley, his behemoth cock lying like a bloated whale across his belly, cum leaking out of its gaping ‘blowhole.’ Ripley was surprised to see tears in the corners of his eyes. There was a perilous moment when he feared that Paco would get up and leave forever.

Coach Stephens saved the day. In a surprise move, he suggested, “Hey, Paco. I’ll bet you can still fuck his asshole. It’s pretty loose and flabby, isn’t it, Rip?”

Ripley nodded. “Yep. ‘Specially now. Those guys left no hole unbarred today when they were fucking me. You could probably park a Yugo in there now.”

Paco perked up at these words and, grunting with happiness, turned Ripley over onto his side and commenced buggering him with wild abandon. As promised, his cock–even swollen to its monstrous size–easily slipped inside and soon Paco was stretching Ripley out even wider.

“Perfect,” Coach Stephens mused as Paco bucked away at Ripley’s hole. “Yer pussy is mine now.”

With Paco in back and Coach Stephens in front, Ripley had both holes worked over that night. His two lovers were aggressive to the point of brutality but they also possessed unique styles of degradation and he found he liked them both equally. He didn’t even mind when Coach Stephens forced Paco to lie on this stomach and pull back his ass cheeks so he could fuck him raw. After all, Stephens was the adult and the bigger alpha. Both Paco and Ripley knew this and respected the coach for it. And this led to endlessly fun adventures for all three men.

Ripley fell asleep with Coach Stephen’s long cock up his cunt and Paco’s fat monster in his ass. His two lovers’ lips were on him–Paco licking his neck and Stephens kissing his mouth–and their strong arms enfolded him. As he drifted off into slumber, he contemplated the crazy and impossible turn his life had taken and sighed with contentment. He could never have asked for a better body or a better life!

***

Epilogue

The rest of his senior year passed in a haze for Ripley. He settled into his new life as a himbo ‘roid slut, allowing Paco and Coach Stephens to subject him to ever more humiliating procedures in their attempt to completely ruin his body and turn him into a walking freak show. They injected collagen into his lips and added more and more silicone to his ass until it was so wide and round that he could barely waddle. Paco had his body covered in lewd and disgusting tattoos, making good on his promise to give him the biggest tramp stamp imaginable. His steroid regimen increased and his bitch tits grew enormous, sagging down like empty udders from his chest. His new ‘roid gut was so big it looked like he was pregnant with a baby hippo.

His muscles, bloated to new extremes, made it difficult for him to get around and he had to give up football entirely. This didn’t stop him from taking loads from the team after practice, though. He quickly grew calluses on his knees and palms from spending so much time on all fours as player after player fucked him senseless. His cunt lips became looser and floppier but, even stretched out, he still wasn’t gaping enough to accomodate Paco’s silicone cock. Paco never forgave him for this, blaming him for his predicament instead of taking responsibility for his own stupidity. Ripley didn’t mind, though; he liked Paco even more when he was abusive.

After graduation, Ripley was too bloated and dumb to attend college and he stayed home, lifting weights and injecting himself with steroids until Coach Stephens got home from school and Paco returned from his classes at the local university. Through Coach Stephens, he learned about the football team’s surprising new quarterback. Emerging from obscurity, the sophomore claimed the mantle of big man on campus even though he was just shy of five feet eight inches tall. The kid was not impressive to look at, being exceedingly plain in every way, but he possessed a dogged determination and worked hard, eventually earning the respect and admiration of everyone on the team. In his junior year, he led the team to victory in the finals, thereby cementing his status as the big jock to watch out for.

“Wus ‘is name?” Ripley grunted in between sets on the weight bench. His collagen-stuffed lips made it difficult to talk and he was barely intelligible now.

Coach Stephen’s eyes became unfocused as he struggled to remember the kid’s name. “Geez, Rip, that’s a good question! Why can’t I remember? I mean, he’s my quarterback after all! Lemme see.” He paused in thought for a long moment before jabbing his index finger in the air and exclaiming. “I know! His name is Scott. Scott Travers…I think.”

***