BOOTSWOLF

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[hydravanguard]

[aimanandboots]

[wells-gold58]

Blue Balls, Golden Boy

Wells had a theory.

A real athlete did not specialize too early.

A real athlete developed range.

A real athlete learned how to handle every kind of ball placed in front of him.

That was why, when the theme turned blue, Wells decided one sport was not enough. Baseball first: tight blue gear, bat over one shoulder, smirk already loaded like he was waiting for the perfect pitch. Then soccer: blue kit stretched over muscle, one foot planted on the ball, hips angled just enough to make the entire field lose focus. Football came next, all pads, pressure, and that dangerous look that said he knew exactly how to receive, carry, and protect possession. By rugby, shirt tight, thighs flexed, ball tucked firm against his side, it became obvious Wells was not demonstrating versatility.

He was showing off.

And unfortunately, he was very good at it.

Baseball taught him timing. Soccer taught him footwork. Football taught him impact. Rugby taught him stamina, grip, and how to keep driving forward even when several men were trying to take him down.

Wells claimed it was “cross-training.”

Nobody believed him.

Coach stood with arms folded, whistle still, eyes narrowed in professional silence. The Golden Bros watched like they were reviewing athletic technique and absolutely nothing else. The drones recorded posture, performance, ball control, and repeated visual evidence of Wells making every blue uniform look personally dangerous.

By the end, Wells had handled balls with his hands, feet, chest, thighs, and full-body commitment.

He had dribbled, kicked, caught, carried, passed, protected, and posed.

Then he looked over at Coach, grinned, and gave the rugby ball one final slow spin in his hands.

“See?” Wells said. “I can handle all kinds.”

Coach did not answer.

The bros did not blink.

The drones reported several system delays.

And Wells, standing there in blue, smug and shining under the lights, had somehow managed to leave Coach, the Golden Bros, and half the Polo Drone Hive with the worst case of blue balls in Golden Army history.

Every game has rules. Every brother learns control. And every ball in play becomes another chance to prove stamina, skill, and swagger under pressure. Step onto the field, handle what comes your way, and let the Gold turn every tease into discipline. Join the Golden Army. Contact: @alton-gold77, @polo-drone-125

[leatherbikergsx750f]

Muscled hairy beast for ultimate SEX

[kinkybruder]

[guilt-and-rod]

Edgars.

[leatherhog]

[bootswolf]

Just dropped a massive story picture. It's a bit oversized, but so are the gains inside. Some pathetic loser tries to steal our serum, gets captured, and gets a total mind-wipe and body upgrade. Now he’s a jacked Hydra beast crushing his old bullies and recruiting more meat for the army. Enjoy the show!

Feel free to write a story based on this if you're inspired.

[magaization]

Becoming a MAGA Drone

Tyler had some deep kinky fantasies: he loved stories of guys like him being transformed and turned into rubber drones, aka beings that were once human, but now coated in a layer of full body rubber and sporting a gasmask, behaving robotically. Of course he knew that a transformation like that could never be done in real life - after all, there's no way any human could ever be as susceptible to brainwashing as the characters in the stories he read. That didn't take away that Tyler was very interested in being hypnotized himself. After all, there wouldn't be much that could go wrong during a simple session, right?

One day, Tyler was browsing a gay smut site, came across another hot rubber drone story, and decided to click the follow button on the writer of said story, who went by RedBroDronification. He had checked out some of RedBroDronification's other stories, and although there was some more army-oriented stuff on there, he still liked what he saw. Much to Tyler's surprise, he received a private message from RedBroDronification a day later, saying:

"Hey bro, I see you also like drones and the like? I looked at your location and we're actually pretty close, if you'd like I can dronify you irl"

A face pic was also included, showing a muscular guy with a long beard, wearing only a tank top. Tyler couldn't believe his luck. Did this stud seriously want to turn him into a drone for a play session? Although there were some minor voices in the back of his head saying he should take it slow and get to know this hypnotist a bit better first, the temptation of being dronified in real life was simply too big. Thus, Tyler responded enthusiastically:

"Hi there, I would love to be a drone! When would be okay for you?"

Not much later, Tyler received a response. He'd be welcome the very next day in an apartment about a mile from his place. There weren't any further details in the message, but judging from the quality of the stories RedBroDronification was churning out every day, Tyler was convinced he had to be at least a bit qualified. Without a single nerve in his body and excited for the session the next day, he went to bed.

The next day, Tyler went on his way and was at his to-be dom's place in no time. While walking he did realize that the place was located in a more shabby neighborhood, which made him a bit more nervous but not to a huge extent - he was convinced the other guy would receive him with open arms. Before he knew it, he was at RedBroDronification's door.

The door opened and on the other side was the stud he had been chatting with. "Hey there, if it isn't my new drone recruit! Come in!" Tyler felt like there was something empty in his host's voice, like a receptionist faking kindness to a hotel guest. Of course he couldn't turn back now, plus just the thought of someone dronifying him in real life turned him on a lot. Tyler did decide to try to ask his host for a drink first: "Could we maybe sit down and chat for a bit before playing? To get in the mood you know." RedBroDronification refused: "I have little time unfortunately, we need to immediately proceed with hypnosis. Apologies." And thus, the two went into the playroom.

There already was a set of restraints ready to lock Tyler in place, as well as a VR headset with headphones, which would of course show the programming that would temporarily turn Tyler into a good drone. Tyler stripped down, laid down and put on the headset, as his to-be programmer fastened the restraints. Before he knew it, a red, white and blue spiral formed in his headset. "Hmm, that's kinda weird colors for a dronification spiral..." he thought to himself. Words started flashing before his eyes:

BE A MAGA DRONE

TAKE THE RED PILL

BECOME AN ENFORCER FOR CONSERVATIVE VALUES

Tyler was absolutely shocked by what he was seeing on the screen, but didn't quite know what to do: "Uhhh... safeword?" However, RedBroDronification seemed to be out of sorts as well, and instead of helping him, he droned along with the mantras shown on the headset. That's when Tyler realized: why was he even still able to hear his host? Shouldn't the headphones be noise-cancelling? Something was very wrong here... "Please get me out... I'm not into this!"

It was all futile, and the file playing on Tyler’s headset entered a new phase: images of drones in full rubber suits alternated with those of hypermuscular men with red MAGA hats, many of whom looked strikingly similar to RedBroDronification. Tyler couldn’t believe it, but this actually turned him on… he could feel his cock grow as the imagery slowly fused together, the drones in the images becoming extremely muscular, almost looking like they were part of special army unit rather than a rubber drone. New words started flashing:

BE A HOMOCON

BETRAY YOUR MORALS AND VALUES

SPREAD THE PILL

Even with these words flashing, Tyler still remained hard as a rock… no, it couldn’t be… was his desire to be dronified actually winning out against his good morals? Knowing his horny brain would take over soon, he mounted one final attempt to escape, rocking back and forth in his restraints as hard as possible… but to no avail. He tried to close his eyes, but the audio was too effective to have that slow down his conversion in any way.

It was getting hard to think now, and what happened next would speed up Tyler’s brainwashing even more. As his brain got emptier and emptier, he felt a gooey, shiny presence on his skin. In fact, RedBroDronification had set the next stage of Tyler’s transformation in motion, and tubes had come down, attached themselves to Tyler’s skin and started spreading liquid rubber. In no time, Tyler’s entire body apart from his head was covered in skintight rubber.

Meanwhile, Tyler himself was slowly starting to give in. After all, this file did give him a chance to be a drone full-time… and he liked stories where drones took over the world anyways, so why not be part of that winning side himself? As if the file could read Tyler’s thoughts, it changed its flashing mantra one last time:

JOIN THE WINNING SIDE

BRO BY DAY, DRONE BY NIGHT

LURE IN THE LIBS

More tubes connected, this time thin ones with syringes. Some red fluid entered Tyler’s body, of which the effects immediately became visible: Tyler blew up from the twink he was to a roided muscle god. Pecs formed, his arm and leg muscles became the size of a melon, and a giant beard formed, reaching the bottom of his neck. The mantra was replaced by a very clear order:

CUM OUT YOUR LIBERAL THOUGHTS

This finally pushed Tyler over the edge. What had years of being a liberal given him after all? A bad paying job and no friends? In his new position he’d have POWER. He’d be surrounded by his new BROS. His cock throbbed, his balls filled with the remnants of his liberal past. Then, he shot the biggest load he had ever shot, going on for about few minutes… and then, only a drone was left. The headset now focused on pure programming, as the unit formerly drone as Tyler received orders. It would be a homocon jock by day: a shining example of how a gay man could still be a true conservative. By night, he’d become unrecognizable: the jockish tank tops and shorts would make way for full rubber and a tactical outfit on top, with this unit’s purpose to redpill as many naive gay men as possible.

As the final programming was entered into the new unit’s brain, its restraints were removed and it stood up, giving a first real look at his roided muscular body. RedBroDronification grinned and pushed one last button, his fellow unit finally receiving its own tactical outfit. He knew the process well, for he had been redpilled himself a few months prior. After that, his brain had been deemed suitable to be fully taken over by an AI, which started churning out all kinds of stories under a multitude of nicknames online, one of which was RedBroDronification. The new unit before him would take a more hands-on approach, converting people who wouldn’t mind being topped by a real rubber drone.

With the tactical suit now attached, the new unit had successfully been redpilled. “This unit is now 100% redpilled. It obeys Conservative values. Its drone designation is CD-475. During the day, it will assume a human identity and go by the name Ty. Thanks to unit CD-452 for showing it the light. Assuming human homocon identity now.” CD-475 seamlessly took off the tactical suit and had its rubber suit morph into shorts and a tank. He gave his fellow bro a goodbye handshake, and then walked out of the apartment, ready to have Ty show the world how good it would feel to join the Red side…

[magaization]

Becoming a MAGA Drone

Tyler had some deep kinky fantasies: he loved stories of guys like him being transformed and turned into rubber drones, aka beings that were once human, but now coated in a layer of full body rubber and sporting a gasmask, behaving robotically. Of course he knew that a transformation like that could never be done in real life - after all, there's no way any human could ever be as susceptible to brainwashing as the characters in the stories he read. That didn't take away that Tyler was very interested in being hypnotized himself. After all, there wouldn't be much that could go wrong during a simple session, right?

One day, Tyler was browsing a gay smut site, came across another hot rubber drone story, and decided to click the follow button on the writer of said story, who went by RedBroDronification. He had checked out some of RedBroDronification's other stories, and although there was some more army-oriented stuff on there, he still liked what he saw. Much to Tyler's surprise, he received a private message from RedBroDronification a day later, saying:

"Hey bro, I see you also like drones and the like? I looked at your location and we're actually pretty close, if you'd like I can dronify you irl"

A face pic was also included, showing a muscular guy with a long beard, wearing only a tank top. Tyler couldn't believe his luck. Did this stud seriously want to turn him into a drone for a play session? Although there were some minor voices in the back of his head saying he should take it slow and get to know this hypnotist a bit better first, the temptation of being dronified in real life was simply too big. Thus, Tyler responded enthusiastically:

"Hi there, I would love to be a drone! When would be okay for you?"

Not much later, Tyler received a response. He'd be welcome the very next day in an apartment about a mile from his place. There weren't any further details in the message, but judging from the quality of the stories RedBroDronification was churning out every day, Tyler was convinced he had to be at least a bit qualified. Without a single nerve in his body and excited for the session the next day, he went to bed.

The next day, Tyler went on his way and was at his to-be dom's place in no time. While walking he did realize that the place was located in a more shabby neighborhood, which made him a bit more nervous but not to a huge extent - he was convinced the other guy would receive him with open arms. Before he knew it, he was at RedBroDronification's door.

The door opened and on the other side was the stud he had been chatting with. "Hey there, if it isn't my new drone recruit! Come in!" Tyler felt like there was something empty in his host's voice, like a receptionist faking kindness to a hotel guest. Of course he couldn't turn back now, plus just the thought of someone dronifying him in real life turned him on a lot. Tyler did decide to try to ask his host for a drink first: "Could we maybe sit down and chat for a bit before playing? To get in the mood you know." RedBroDronification refused: "I have little time unfortunately, we need to immediately proceed with hypnosis. Apologies." And thus, the two went into the playroom.

There already was a set of restraints ready to lock Tyler in place, as well as a VR headset with headphones, which would of course show the programming that would temporarily turn Tyler into a good drone. Tyler stripped down, laid down and put on the headset, as his to-be programmer fastened the restraints. Before he knew it, a red, white and blue spiral formed in his headset. "Hmm, that's kinda weird colors for a dronification spiral..." he thought to himself. Words started flashing before his eyes:

BE A MAGA DRONE

TAKE THE RED PILL

BECOME AN ENFORCER FOR CONSERVATIVE VALUES

Tyler was absolutely shocked by what he was seeing on the screen, but didn't quite know what to do: "Uhhh... safeword?" However, RedBroDronification seemed to be out of sorts as well, and instead of helping him, he droned along with the mantras shown on the headset. That's when Tyler realized: why was he even still able to hear his host? Shouldn't the headphones be noise-cancelling? Something was very wrong here... "Please get me out... I'm not into this!"

It was all futile, and the file playing on Tyler’s headset entered a new phase: images of drones in full rubber suits alternated with those of hypermuscular men with red MAGA hats, many of whom looked strikingly similar to RedBroDronification. Tyler couldn’t believe it, but this actually turned him on… he could feel his cock grow as the imagery slowly fused together, the drones in the images becoming extremely muscular, almost looking like they were part of special army unit rather than a rubber drone. New words started flashing:

BE A HOMOCON

BETRAY YOUR MORALS AND VALUES

SPREAD THE PILL

Even with these words flashing, Tyler still remained hard as a rock… no, it couldn’t be… was his desire to be dronified actually winning out against his good morals? Knowing his horny brain would take over soon, he mounted one final attempt to escape, rocking back and forth in his restraints as hard as possible… but to no avail. He tried to close his eyes, but the audio was too effective to have that slow down his conversion in any way.

It was getting hard to think now, and what happened next would speed up Tyler’s brainwashing even more. As his brain got emptier and emptier, he felt a gooey, shiny presence on his skin. In fact, RedBroDronification had set the next stage of Tyler’s transformation in motion, and tubes had come down, attached themselves to Tyler’s skin and started spreading liquid rubber. In no time, Tyler’s entire body apart from his head was covered in skintight rubber.

Meanwhile, Tyler himself was slowly starting to give in. After all, this file did give him a chance to be a drone full-time… and he liked stories where drones took over the world anyways, so why not be part of that winning side himself? As if the file could read Tyler’s thoughts, it changed its flashing mantra one last time:

JOIN THE WINNING SIDE

BRO BY DAY, DRONE BY NIGHT

LURE IN THE LIBS

More tubes connected, this time thin ones with syringes. Some red fluid entered Tyler’s body, of which the effects immediately became visible: Tyler blew up from the twink he was to a roided muscle god. Pecs formed, his arm and leg muscles became the size of a melon, and a giant beard formed, reaching the bottom of his neck. The mantra was replaced by a very clear order:

CUM OUT YOUR LIBERAL THOUGHTS

This finally pushed Tyler over the edge. What had years of being a liberal given him after all? A bad paying job and no friends? In his new position he’d have POWER. He’d be surrounded by his new BROS. His cock throbbed, his balls filled with the remnants of his liberal past. Then, he shot the biggest load he had ever shot, going on for about few minutes… and then, only a drone was left. The headset now focused on pure programming, as the unit formerly drone as Tyler received orders. It would be a homocon jock by day: a shining example of how a gay man could still be a true conservative. By night, he’d become unrecognizable: the jockish tank tops and shorts would make way for full rubber and a tactical outfit on top, with this unit’s purpose to redpill as many naive gay men as possible.

As the final programming was entered into the new unit’s brain, its restraints were removed and it stood up, giving a first real look at his roided muscular body. RedBroDronification grinned and pushed one last button, his fellow unit finally receiving its own tactical outfit. He knew the process well, for he had been redpilled himself a few months prior. After that, his brain had been deemed suitable to be fully taken over by an AI, which started churning out all kinds of stories under a multitude of nicknames online, one of which was RedBroDronification. The new unit before him would take a more hands-on approach, converting people who wouldn’t mind being topped by a real rubber drone.

With the tactical suit now attached, the new unit had successfully been redpilled. “This unit is now 100% redpilled. It obeys Conservative values. Its drone designation is CD-475. During the day, it will assume a human identity and go by the name Ty. Thanks to unit CD-452 for showing it the light. Assuming human homocon identity now.” CD-475 seamlessly took off the tactical suit and had its rubber suit morph into shorts and a tank. He gave his fellow bro a goodbye handshake, and then walked out of the apartment, ready to have Ty show the world how good it would feel to join the Red side…

[hydravanguard]

[trefoilwombat]

Insta: benbisonx

[bootswolf]

Some image for a story about hero corruption

[greatvoidpersona]

[greatvoidpersona]

[flmanjax]

[aloyalvillain]

The Alpha World Order - Part One

Jack sat at his office cubicle and sighed for what had to have been the fifth time in the last hour. He was getting bombarded by e-mails from people in his department asking him questions about things that they should have known to begin with. He had his own projects and issues to deal with so he didn’t have time to deal with everybody else’s problems.

“Dude?” somebody said from behind him. “Everything all right?”

Jack turned back and saw his co-worker Alan standing there with a cup of coffee in his hand and a look of concern on his face. Alan had been with the company a couple more months than Jack had been and he was actually in an entirely different department now. But when Jack started working there, Alan was the guy who sat in the cubicle next to him.

“Everything is fucking perfect,” Jack replied. “Sorry. Just a long morning with people asking me about things… yeah… never mind.”

Alan took a sip of his coffee and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “You know Mabel? She went on vacation last week and locked herself out of all of her stuff. She’s been dealing with IT all morning.”

“Oh god,” Jack said chuckling. “How has that gone?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve heard words come out of Mabel’s mouth that I didn’t think were possible,” Alan said. “But seriously. You look like you need a break. Go out and take a walk. Grab some food. Do something besides staring at that stupid screen hating yourself.”

Jack closed his eyes. “I really need to finish working on these files for Starkist,” he said. He looked at Alan whose look had changed to the ‘you better get your ass out of here’ look that could kill.

“Fine fine,” Jack replied as he got up from the chair. “I get it. Yes Dad.”

“Good,” Alan replied. “Oh and by the way. Jack. Take out the garbage when you get home. Last week you forgot and I had to do it.”

Jack laughed and mock saluted. “Yes sir!” he said as he walked away from his desk for a while.

A walk would do him good for sure. As he walked towards the stairs, he looked as his supervisor Annie and said, “Hey. I need to take a walk and get some fresh air. I’ll be back in a bit okay?”

Annie smiled and nodded. “Good. If Alan didn’t get you to get out of here, I’d have done it for him,” she said.

He stopped at that. “Oh, I see… it’s a conspiracy. You sent Alan to do your dirty work,” Jack said arching an eyebrow.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement,” Annie said. “Get out of here. Take an hour lunch. Go to the park. Take a nap… do something besides work.”

Jack nodded and walked out of the office and out into the fresh air. He wasn’t one to actually land up taking lunches and he sure didn’t take hour lunches unless he absolutely had to. But today he was going to try his damnedest to actually listen to what other people were telling him and take a full lunch.

Without really thinking about it, Jack started to walk and let his mind wander. With everything that was going on in his personal life and work life, it was hard to keep everything straight. His wife of five years had asked for a divorce because she no longer loved him. The company he had worked for had gone through two mergers since he had started working there and rumors were that layoffs were on the horizon because profits weren’t good enough.

But for now, Jack needed to talk and forget about things. About ten minutes in, he turned the corner onto a sidestreet and came across a store that he didn’t remember being there before. There had been a gym boutique there the last time Jack had walked this way but that must have been a few months ago because things had obviously changed.

“What the hell?” Jack muttered as he saw the sign above the door saying ALPHA WORLD ORDER: THIS IS NOT A COSTUME.

Jack looked both ways to see if anybody was coming down the street and shrugged. Might as well take a look through the window and see what the hell was going on. What Jack saw was something strange. There were racks of merchandise for something called the Alpha World Order. Red accent lighting with screens on which a guy who Jack thought he recognized was talking about something that he couldn’t make out. There was a small gym area in one corner with a guy standing there with his arms crossed. Another guy was standing behind the counter and everything looked… polished… aggressive and honestly a bit off putting.

Standing out there for a minute Jack was totally lost as to what the hell he was looking at. Was it some sort of wrestling cosplay store? A gym? Some influencer brand store? Oh fuck… if it was that then it was probabiy a scam.

But Jack didn’t care and if it allowed him to forget about his job and home life for a few minutes, so much the fucking better.

He opened the door and immediately felt a cool and fresh breeze. The guy on the screen he recognized as one of the better known professional wrestlers Austin Theory. Although Jack wasn’t a huge wrestling fan and he hadn’t kept up with all of the stuff going on, he would watch a show here and there just to escape from things. The music was low and pulsing, almost throbbing. It didn’t give Jack a headache like most music did. It felt… relaxing.

The walls were black, the shirts organized and everything was clean and orderly. He felt a bit almost uncomfortable by the entire situation but Jack didn’t want to be a wimp and run out the door as soon as he walked inside.

He walked over to one of the racks and it was filled with AWO merchandise. There were black compression shirts as well as regular T-Shirts. On another rack nearby were shorts for gym use and every day wear all with the AWO branding and everything looked clean and solid.

He heard bootsteps behind him and saw a man walking towards him. He was wearing a tight AWO shirt, black jeans. He had a mustache that reminded Jack of an old school wrestler along with a bandana. The confidence that was coming off the guy was shocking to say the least. Jack involuntarily took a step back and almost hit the rack behind him.

“Brother,” the man said. “You all right? Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Sorry,” Jack replied as he composed himself quickly. “Just browsing.”

The man shook his head as he looked at Jack. “You didn’t come in to just browse,” he said. “There’s something more right?”

Jack frowned at the forwardness of the salesperson. “Great way to do a sales pitch,” he said. “Call a person a liar.”

“No,” the man said. “I didn’t do that. But you came in here for a reason didn’t you? What was it?”

“Fuck,” Jack said. “I honestly have no clue. I just needed a break from things you know? And… well…”

“Well what?” the man asked.

“Something here I kind of like,” Jack replied after a moment.

“The Alpha World Order is for everybody,” the man said. “We’re not here for cosplay or to become a fanboy. We’re here to offer the opportunity to unlock the version of yourself that you were always afraid to claim.”

“So you are a cult… or a scam…” Jack said as he shook his head and headed towards the door. “Pyramid scheme or whatever. Work on somebody who isn’t as smart as me.”

“Cult? Scam? Brother, if that helps you feel smarter, use whatever word you want. But you’re still standing here.” 

Jack sighed and shook his head. Honestly, anything would be better than what he was dealing with right now in his personal and professional life.

“Fine,” Jack said as he closed the door. “Let me look some more.”

“We’ve got a fine number of options to choose from,” the man said as Jack closed the door. “Go back to the Gallery. Take a look at what we have to offer you.”

The man pointed to a corner of the store where there was touchscreens. Jack chuckled and nodded and headed over to the Gallery and started looking and touching.

Immediately, Jack was watching a number of what were called Alpha Archetypes showed on the screen. Each archetype had characteristics, personality traits, physical attributes and the like. It was like playing a video game where the player was figuring out character generation.

Going through them he saw some like The Pretty Boy Idol, The Influencer, The Enforcer, The Champion, The Alpha Muse and others. The screens seemingly went on and on and Jack began to get more and more interested. What the fuck was going on here? Whatever it was it sure got him intrigued.

Ten minutes later, Jack was flipping through the archetypes again. Each of them called to him a different way but none of them fit perfectly. Finally, he found an archetype that was labelled The Genetic Freak. The description below it was straightforward to say the least: Unapologetic mass. Unfiltered mouth. Unchecked dominance. Become the man they cannot look away from.

Jack chuckled and sighed. Wow… talk about everything he was not. For a moment, he didn’t do anything but then saw that button at the bottom and he pushed it. Immediately, a screen to his left on the wall lit up and began to go through a list of traits for the Genetic Freak.

Finally, the screen projected Jack not as he was at that moment, but what he could have been. This version of Jack had broader shoulders, biceps to die for. He was wearing a tight black compression AWO tank top and an AWO armband that barely fit around his bicep. His pants were black and he was wearing black shoes. In the image, his hair was blond and cut short and he was wearing sunglasses that made him look dominant and like a douchebag.

But without thinking about it, Jack flexed and the image flexed back. A part of him was fucking embarssed to say the least but at the same time, something inside of him felt excited by the proposition. What the hell was he thinking? He needed to get fucking out of the store and back to reality.

He turned to walk out of the Gallery and the man from the front desk walked up to him. “Looks like you found it,” he said.

“If I want to look like a musclebound douchebag who doesn’t have a brain cell,” Jack said as he chuckled.

“And what’s wrong with that?” the man asked. “What’s wrong with opening yourself to the possibility of changing for the better?”

“And that’s what you did I take it?” Jack countered with.

“I did,” the man replied. “Three months ago I was in the same place you were. I took a chance and this is where I am today. And let me tell you brother, I am so much happier now than back then.”

“So…” Jack said after a minute trying to think of a way to stop this entire thing. “How much would this cost me?”

The man shook his head. “Stage 1 is about choosing. No payment, no obligation,” he replied. “You’ll need to answer a few questions and in a week’s time, you’ll come back for the next stage. But if it doesn’t feel real… or its a scam, then you can walk away and never come back.”

Jack sighed and looked around the store. He knew that he needed to get out of there. He knew that this was all a scam and that he needed to stop. But deep down, beneath the doubts, he needed to be something more. Maybe going on lunch was the world’s way of bringing him to this point so that he could take a chance.

“Fine,” Jack said. “Let’s do this.”

The man smiled and said, “Brother you won’t regret this. Let’s get you started.”

A few moments later, Jack was led into a smaller room that was quieter than the main floor. The walls were black. There was an AWO banner behind a desk on which there was a laptop. Jack sat down in the chair and looked at the laptop and saw The Genetic Freak profile staring back at him.

The salesman sat down on the other side of the desk and said, “I’m going to need to ask you a few questions to better align our program with your choices. If you don’t feel comfortable at any time, you can stop. All right?”

“Ask away,” Jack said.

The questions were general at first. Age, full name, marital status at first. It felt more like he was applying for a credit card than whatever he was in fact dealing with.

But then the questions became more personal.

“What do you hate about being yourself?”

“When do you feel smallest?”

“Who do you envy?”

“What kind of man makes you angry just by existing?” 

“What do you want others to see first when they look at you?”

“Do you want to be respected, feared, envied or lusted after?”

After all the questions were answered, Jack frowned as the man typed a couple of final things into the laptop before nodded.

“Just verify everything is right,” the man said. “I’ll be right back.”

Jack was left around and he stared at the screen and the information stared back at him:

Primary Archetype: The Genetic Freak

Primary Traits: Mass, arrogance, dominance, verbal aggression, physical intimidation, loyalty

Projected Path: Four step transformation.

Under the information was his information that he had given and the screen asked him if he accepted what he saw. Jack frowned and realized that he was fucking nervous. What the hell was he doing? How the hell did he land up here?

He shook his head and pushed the button to confirm his choices. The screen thanked him for his choices and the door opened and the salesperson walked back in with a bag in his hand.

“Here,” he said as he handed the bag to Jack. “You’ll get an e-mail about your next appointment next week. When you come back, wear that. Not because it’ll change you but because you have already chosen.”

In a mental haze, Jack walked out of the store and looked around trying to figure out what honestly had happened. It was just cosplay, just a weird fantasy. It was like an adult sex shop where you walked in, looked around, felt bad and walked out and would never go back.

Jack walked down the street and back to his job when he caught himself looking in a window. He looks a little bit wider and he raises his chin slightly. A smirk appeared on Jack’s face and then it disappeared just as quickly.

He fished in the bag and pulled out an appointment card: Stage 2: Beginnings. Jack knew that he could walk away any time and go back to his boring life.

He knew he had time to decide.

But the appointment card knew better.