DEAR READER
occasionally subtle
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Mike Driver
wallacepolsom

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Xuebing Du
$LAYYYTER

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cherry valley forever

JBB: An Artblog!
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titsay
Show & Tell
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Peter Solarz
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
todays bird

Janaina Medeiros

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@federalduck
"If you want to leave, pull off your pads and do it." Dean said.
"I said I'd stay if you won, and you did." I replied.
"This is a new bet. I bet you your freedom that you want to worship and serve me more than you want to escape."
I got up off the floor, pulled off my helmet, and started to untucked my Jersey to unstrap the pads. I'm not stupid, the football players were way stronger than me and easily had me where they wanted me. I'd never beat them in any kind of competition. This had to be some kind of stupid trick. Once the pads were off, they'd probably tackle me to the ground and gear me up again.
"what's the catch? You didn't go to all the work of forcing me to sleep in the locker room in full gear last night just to let me walk out of here. You gonna force me back into gear the second I try to walk out?" I unbuckled the shoulder pads and pulled them up over my head.
"No catch, it's just time you realize you're here because you want it." Dean stated, while I struggled to try to pull the shoulder pads off over my head. "Here, let me help. Good thing you didn't bet you could take off the pads by yourself." Dean pressed his massive body up against my back, and gave me a strong bear hug. I could feel his bulge stretching his spandex football pants in the small of my back. He leveraged his body against mine and helped pull the shoulder pads over my head, freeing me from them.
"we'll, I'm not going to try to figure it out. I'm getting out while I can before I'm stuck being your prisoner again." I grabbed the waist of the football pants to pull them down, but Dean was still behind me. He hugged me from behind again, grabbing both of my thighs through the spandex of the shiny gold football pants and hissed in my ear.
"The Team doesn't want a prisoner. We want a willing slave."
Feeling him ready to overpower me had my own dick stretching at the pants. "Why would I... Want. That?" I said, getting ready to push down the pants anyways.
"I know you loved feeling me overpower you last night, and I can see your dick wanting to feel that again." He slid one of his hands across my pants towards my dick, but only moved it close to it and didn't touch it.
I let go of my pants instead of pulling them down. I stood there speechless with Dean pressing into me firmly from behind. I wanted him to grab my now turgid dick straining through the pants, but he just left his hand in the nearby position waiting for me to say something. I was so hard. I was so horny. It was overpowering my rational thought. Dean was holding me firmly, but it was clear I was free to walk away. I should have walked away. I thought about while we stood there, saying nothing. But liked the feeling of him pressing his pelvis into my lower back and the feeling of his hands on my legs.
"I won't go any farther unless you ask." Dean whispered in my ear.
"grab my dick." I whispered back.
"are you sure?"
"yes"
"you don't want to pull off those pants first?"
"no", I whispered without thinking. He gave me what I wanted and slid his hand the rest of the way across my pants to my dick and grabbed it though the football pants. I gave an unexpected short whimper of pleasure.
"you like that, don't you?" He slowly gave my dick a single stroke through my pants.
"yes", I involuntarily moaned. He gave my dick another slow single stroke, and I involuntarily moaned louder as pleasure shot back from my dick like a lightning bolt. He pressed against the back of my body harder, like he was giving me a slow dry hump sending pleasure up my spine feeling his dick slide against my back through his pants. I moaned "please, I want more."
"fuck yeah, you do." Dean gave me another slow stroke and another dick back rub. "I think it's time to put back on your pads." I continued writhe in ecstasy as he gave me another round of stroke and pump.
"yeah... " I said incoherently. He let go of me, and then handed me my shoulder pads off the floor. I started coming to my senses. I should run. Don't bother with pulling off the gear. Whatever was happening was bad news, even if it felt so good. Drop the shoulder pads. Run out to my car, speed away, don't bother pulling off the football pants until I'm home safe. I looked at the shoulder pads in my hands and froze.
"you should smell them." Dean suggested, making it clear it wasn't an order. I should have dropped them, but instead I put my nose into them and installed them deeply. Pleasure filled my body as the smell of musky male miasma filled my lungs. I moaned with more pleasure.
"good boy" I heard Dean say from behind me. I smelled them again, and then put my head back through the yolk of the pads, pulling the epaulets to fit the pads back into place over my chest. It wasn't too late. I could still easily pull off the pads or even just run out, but my body was practically in a trance. Instead of running away from last night's captor, I was instead securing the belts of my shoulder pads, locking them back into place on my body.
Dean approached me with the shiny black jersey I'd spent last night wearing after losing our bet. "Arms up if you want to be back in your pads." I shouldn't have, but I wanted it. I put my arms up and let Dean helped me get the jersey back over the shoulder pads on my body. I tucked the jersey back into my football pants and resecured the belt.
Dean set my helmet and mouth guard on the bench next to us, and retook his position behind me. "Ready for more?" I nodded as he resumed his slow choreographed dance of alternating between slowly stroking me and slowly dry humping my back. It felt so good.
At this point, I knew it was over. I wasn't escaping. But before I lost the rest of my faculties I had to understand. "Why?" I tried to ask between bouts of involuntarily grunts of pleasure.
Dean understood the question, even though I wasn't able to shape a coherent sentence. "The team wants strong men who want to be enslaved to the team." Dean continued to pleasure me while he gloated about his victories last night. "You're strong, just not stronger than us. Last night, you played well enough to pass the strength test, even though you lost to the linebacker. And don't lie, you loved being pinned under him, didn't you?"
"yeah, I did" I said, "I was freaked out by losing and having to gear up".
Dean continued, "Then you passed the intelligence test, while you double or nothinged on the time you'd spend as a prisoner in the locker room. Of course, you weren't smart enough to actually win, even though you passed" Dean finished with a smirk and gave me a faster stroke and a harder hump. "And you might have been scared, but you fucking loved losing again. Are you ready to lose a final time?"
I hesitated. He was right, beneath the crushing defeat there was a weird satisfaction knowing the football team had me under their control. I picked up my helmet, getting ready to put it on. "This is the last decision I'm ever going to make as a free man. Isn't it?"
"yeah, you go through with this, you will become a slave to the team and the gear." Dean replied.
"I want this, but I don't know why I want this. I can't go through with this." I tried to put the helmet back down, but feeling Dean's slow stroke caused me to pause.
"I can tell you why you want this. You need more than a master, you need a god, gods, and an entire religion to worship. You need them to be stronger than you. You need them to be smarter than you. You want them to be able to force you to serve them, but being forced only makes you a prisoner. You want more than that, you want to worship, and the only way to get that is if it's your choice to surrender to the will of your master."
I put on the helmet and strapped the chin strap into place as Dean continued. " So make your choice, will you surrender yourself to the will of the team and truly worship, or do you want to limp home another man the team defeated and trampled."
He was right. I popped the mouth guard in my mouth and bit down. "I want to serve the team." I understood my place. The team wanted the same thing I did. They loved having complete power over me, but they wanted me to willingly submit to it. They had defeated my body and my mind last night, and today that had taken my spirit and soul. I wanted them to have it
Another player, the linebacker from last night entered the locker room with a bottle of lube in his hands. Dean stopped stroking me and pulled down my pants halfway down. The linebacker got down in front of me, pulled my underwear down and took my still hard cock in his mouth. I moaned out even louder. It felt so incredibly good.
"You ready to be fucked like you've never been fucked in you life?" Dean asked. I nodded as he took the lube, lubed up his fingers and started loosening up my hole. I writhed in pleasure from the linebacker working me from the front and Dean working me from the back.
Once I was loosened up and a little more delirious from the pleasure, Dean hugged me from the back again and slid his dick into me. His demeanor changed from assertive to dominant and he ordered "Repeat after me. I love football."
"I love football." I said. Dean started pounding me. Hard. I was glad he warmed me up. I screamed out as a pyroclastic surge of pleasure rolled down my body. Surge after surge followed as the linebacker sucked me from the front and Dean synchronously pounded me from the man.
"I pledge to serve football with my entire mind, body, and soul" Dean ordered.
"I pledge to serve football with my entire mind," I gasped and screamed in pleasure, "body and soul". The pounding continued. Each surge got stronger.
"forever.'
"forever", I stuttered between pulses of Dean's hips and the linebackers lips.
"I give myself to football of my own free will."
"I give myself to football of my own free will." A pressure started to grow in my balls as the pounding continued.
"I will only wear football gear."
"I will only wear football gear. Dean, I'm going to blow." The pressure grew stronger.
Dean ignored me and continued. "I will only get sexual gratification from football."
"I will" I struggled. "Only get sexual gratification". I whimpered aghast with more pleasure. " From football. Dean I can't. I can't. I can't stop myself."
"just one more thing. Say I submit and surrender."
"I submit and surrender" I yelled, as I felt my cock erupt and my brain explode into the most intense orgasm I've ever had in my life." Dean kept pounding as the linebacker swallowed the heavy lava flow being ejected from my dick.
"welcome to the team, little bro." Dean whispered in my ear, as he slowed his intense pounding into something way slower and more sensual. He bit into my neck and sucked firmly, causing me to cry out writhing in even more overwhelming pleasure as I felt him fill me up with his own eruption.
The locker room grew quiet as our sweaty geared up bodies stood together still entwined. Nothing but silence and feel our warm bodies and gear against each other. The gear wouldn't be coming off, nor would I be leaving this locker room.
I whispered to Dean, still clutching me tightly, "Thank you."
Once you secure the straps on the shoulder pads, your fate is secured as well. Your body belongs to football. You'll never taste another moment of freedom. Once you're geared up, you can fight the team all you want, but it's only a matter of time before your mind crumbles and you become another obedient slave to the team. Soon, your mind, body, and soul will desire nothing more than football gear and service to the team. Worst of all, you'll love every minute of it. You'll become addicted to the teams influence and addicted to your gear. So go ahead, strap yourself into the shoulder pads. Seal your fate. You know you want to.
Josiah was confused.
He thought being gay would keep him from ever having a chance to join the Football Team. But when he got there, he found that they were all too willing to take him on the Team.
The outfits were fancy and gorgeous, the bros were fun af, and his freshman year of college felt like it was going to be better than he ever imagined.
But then he started to notice the changes. Getting a little light-headed after every practice. Unable to concentrate unless the subject was football or guys’ dicks and asses. Thinking more and more about the Team during the day, letting his schoolwork for other classes slide.
Maybe it was the weed his Teammate had given him at the party. Head’s been fuzzy since then. Maybe he should–
Josiah’s thoughts were interrupted. His bros came up to him, heads covered by Coach’s special helmets. The ones that made Josiah’s brain feel buzzy when he put one one. They were saying something to him, but he couldn’t quite make out the words.
All he knew was, it’s time to practice again. Time to put on the helmet. Maybe smoke up a little before practice.
Josiah is going to be a good part of the Team. He belongs.
(image by bibro420 via midjourney)
He was just trying out for the Team mascot. He needed a sports credit, and had zero interest in football and all the rest. But when the Team Captain had him put on the old stained jersey, and then slipped the pup hood over his head, the electronics in the hood got to work. Soon enough, his thoughts slowed down. He didn't know who he was, where he was. All he knew was that he needed cum. Horny, needy, he got on all fours, looking around at the slabs of jock meat around him. The Frat flag behind him, Phi Upsilon Xi, looked patriotic. It made him happy. Slowed him down even more. He looked down and saw the American flag speedo on his tightening ass and felt proud. Proud and horny. He whimpered, and the Captain smirked. He knew he had the new guy right where he wanted him.
"Bros," the Captain said, looking around at the full Team in uniform, already rubbing their growing bulges. "We got ourselves a bitch tonight!"
Cheers rang out. The newly created patriotic Football pup glowed with warmth and pride, knowing he would soon have their jock poles down his holes and get the cum he so desperately needed. And the Team knew full well that they didn't just have a bitch for tonight-- this jock pup was gonna be their bitch forever.
The Jock didn't know why he was setting up the camera. The Jock just knew the voice from the helmet wanted him to and from the moment he shoved the helmet over his head he's wanted-needed-to obey the voice.
It had been a joke. He'd been on his daily jog around the track when he noticed the helmet someone had left out. He had planned on returning it but as he held it...he'd seen the football team practices he ran sometimes. Seem them in their gear but he'd never worn any himself.
This had been his chance, no one was around. He could try it out. It didn't slip over his head. He had to really force it down but the moment he had this voice started talking to him.
He tried to take it off, stop the voice but it was as hard to take off as put on and by the time it started coming off Jock wanted to listen to the voice.
Obey the voice.
It told Jock how to adjust the mouth guard, told him how to set up the camera.
And now it told Jock to wait, that Coach was almost there to claim him for the Team. His Team.
Go deep and show off bro.
We know you came to college to get smart.
But you know, broing out is a lot more fun.
Working out. Going blonde. Watching those spirals.
That's what college is all about.
Don't worry bro, you can pay back those loans with your onlyfan money.
Just bro out man. It's what college is all about.
You’ve seen what happens to dudes who get recruited by Coach. You’ve had to hide in a locker, when you and your friend Stephen from theatre we’re in the locker rooms late at night, and watched with your own eyes what happened to him. You and Stephen we’re investigating why nerds like you keep getting called to Coach’s office and coming out not all all interested in their former needy hobbies, only football. All they cared about was football, and they put on an impossible amount of muscle in a short amount of time and started to stink after their meeting with Coach. Stephen didn’t hide in that locker as fast as you, and you watched as Coach forced a football helmet into his head and head him watch hours of weird football player hypnosis videos. The videos almost even hypnotized you, but you made yourself stop watching so you could focus on ducking down in that big locker, sharing the tight space with a bunch of used football gear, trying not to let Coach find you so you wouldn’t end up like Stephen. Sure enough, after that fateful night, your buddy Stephen hasn’t been the same. You watched as he put on the full football gear, and you have to admit, he looks good in it. Now he wears it as much as he can, even when he’s not at practice or in a game. He doesn’t talk to you anymore. You two have nothing in common. All Stephen cares about is football now, and it’s almost like he can’t think for himself when it comes to taking orders from Coach. It’s like he belongs to Coach now, just like your other nerd friends from theatre and the chess team now. Stephen was your last friend, and now you’re seriously considering joining to football team too. Maybe it isn’t so bad to let Coach dress you up in all that comfortable football gear and make you do what he wants you to do. Maybe you should fall until his hypnosis and let him control you too. Once you do, you know that you ll be friends with your old friends again, accept none of you will be the same people you were before you were called to Coach’s office to join his army. And now you hear your name, being summoned by Coach, and you can’t help but fantasize about how great it’s gonna be when you join the football team, how amazing you’re going to look and feel in your new gear.
Normally wearing a pair of football cleats is enough to make me experience what it would be like to be a jock, maybe even drinking a beer along side my orgasm
But if only there was more, a better way to experience the life of a jock
Could u help?
You eagerly examined the card I had sent you, your heart racing with excitement and apprehension as you contemplated exploring the mysterious shop across the street. After summoning your courage, you crossed the road and entered the establishment, which appeared to be high-tech and entirely automated, with no human staff in sight. Following the store's directions, you made your way to the back of the shop and pulled aside a curtain to reveal a hidden corridor flanked by cubicles. Stepping into the first cubicle you encountered, you found it sparsely furnished with only a mirror and some hangers. As you drew the curtain closed behind you, your heart pounded with both anticipation and trepidation. You knew that this place would enable you to experience your deepest desires, but you also couldn't predict what it might do to you. Nonetheless, you whispered under your breath, "I want to be a football jock."
A few moments passed and nothing happened. A part of you felt relieved from the stress, another part felt disappointed. But as you stood up to leave, a massive silver door slammed shut, locking you inside. Arms emerged from the walls, ceiling, and floor, immobilizing you. At first, you felt nothing but fear as the arms ripped off your clothes, leaving you exposed to a cold breeze that enveloped your skin.
More arms appeared, holding injectors. Despite your panic, you reminded yourself that this was all part of the process, although you weren't sure what to expect. Gritting your teeth you embraced the sharp pain as the needles pierced your skin, before injecting their mysterious contents into your bloodstream. A feeling of numbness spread out through your legs and arms, before your stomach and chest lost all feeling too. But it didn't last long. A slight tingling sensation ensued, rapidly intensifying into pure pleasure. The fear of the unknown transformed into blissful ignorance.
You looked at yourself in the mirror again, taking in the sight of your body. Unease seized you as a huge belly ballooned, and your pecs sagged as they expanded. You wanted to clench your ass as it grew more prominent, while your arms and legs became heavier, thickening with muscle. You felt so confused, this wasn’t what you had wanted?
But as quickly as you began to doubt, the fat changed. Your bloated belly retracted, replaced with muscle, which molded into a tight six-pack. Your chest grew more defined, and your once saggy breasts became firm, jutting out above your six-pack. Your ass tightened as it became firmer, forming a large but hard bubble butt. Your thighs and calves became thick and muscular from vigorous workouts and running about on the field. The arms holding you then forced you to flex, showing off your bi’s and tri’s, which looked powerful and muscular.
You couldn’t believe what you saw, you looked back to the mirror to see your face changing too. Your face became more square-like, with sharp, prominent features. Any facial hair vanished, leaving your cheeks clean and smooth, while your eyebrows grew thick and furry. Your unkept hair fell in clumps to the floor as a razor breezed through it, shortening it into a cute, jock cut. As your face softened in texture, the years were turned back as the bags under your eyes vanished and the lines in your head melted away. You looked 18 again.
Suddenly the arms came out with clothes and began redressing you in different attire. First was a jock strap and some long sports socks, then football trousers and a black football shirt. It all fits snugly on your new thicker frame. The arms then bring out the football armor and plop it over your head and on top of your body. The weight feels great over your body, feeling like an actual football player. Your feet slide into a pair of Nike football cleats, which elevates your height by a few inches, adding to the feeling of being a football jock.
The arms lightened their grip on you, letting you flex your new muscles. You were in awe at what had happened to you. You felt like a young athletic jock, in a football uniform, this would be a great experience for you. However, you weren’t done yet.
What looked like a VR headset suddenly came down and was placed over your head. You were excited at what else it had to offer you. The screen came on and it played lots of clips of football. You couldn’t quite tell what this was for, and the footage seemed to have no effect so far. Then a pair of headphones coddled your ears, blocking out any noise. A deep masculine voice of a young football coach then started to talk, you found his voice soothing and his words hypnotic, as you watched the video.
“Stop thinking, just watch and listen to my words. Imagine yourself on the field, the sun beating down on your skin, the grass beneath your feet. You can hear the roar of the crowd as you step onto the turf. You feel the weight of the ball in your hands, and suddenly you know exactly what to do. Your body moves with a grace and power you never knew you possessed. Every muscle is engaged, every sense heightened. You are a football jock, and you feel unstoppable.”
As you stood there, the words and the clips began to blur together, melting into your brain. Your thoughts ceased, any plans or ideas you had vanished, your recent memories twisted and contorted becoming unrecognizable, and you found your intelligence slipping. Your eyes grew heavy and slipped in and out of closing. You tried to hold on… hold on to… everything was slow now, and without a fight, your eyes shut.
—--------------------------------------------------------
“Bro, wake up,” You were jolted awake as a pair of hands began slapping your cheeks. You opened your eyes, and found you were in a locker room now, and a young and hunky jock was slapping you.
“Bro, you’re gonna be late for practice, Coach won’t forgive you if we lose on the big on friday,” he explained. Despite only waking up and feeling disoriented, you felt an urgency inside you to please Coach. You got up and followed him out. You were in a high school, probably mid western. You still had the same body from… from…
You could barely remember anything from before, only the hypnosis, the body growth, and the experience. Was that what this was, some simulated experience of what it felt like to be a jock. You left to go to the field and began practice.
As you ran across the field, sweat pouring down your face, you felt your old life slipping away. The stresses of your job, the worries of your personal life, all of it seemed so distant and unimportant now. The only thing that mattered was the game. You felt your body moving with a fluidity and strength you had never experienced before. Every pass, every catch, every touchdown felt like a victory. You were becoming something new, something better, and you knew he could never go back. As the sun set behind the bleachers, you stood in the endzone, looking out at the empty field. You felt a sense of peace wash over you. This was where you belonged. This was a good life, but you remembered it was only an experience.
The bro from earlier led you straight to the house party after practice. As you arrived at the house party, you felt a sense of familiarity wash over you , like you had been to countless similar gatherings before. Your mind tried to tell you that this was all just from the experience from the shop, you never socialized or drank much, and you had always been interested in looking at football players, rather than cheerleaders. But as you mingled with the crowd, you found yourself effortlessly slipping into conversations about sports, girls, and parties, just like any other high school jock. Memories of past victories and wild nights flooded your mind, and you reveled in the attention and admiration you received from your peers.
The music pounded, and the alcohol flowed, and soon you were the life of the party, leading the cheers and high-fiving your buddies. As you drank more, you forgot more of your memories, ever being shy and quiet, you could only think as you were. The line between this being just a fake simulation and reality blurred. You felt like you had been reborn as a high school jock, and you embraced this new identity. You started to act and think just like them, losing touch with your old self.
You spotted a group of cheerleaders across the room, and your eyes locked onto one of them. You couldn't explain it, but he felt like he knew her. You approached her and started a conversation effortlessly, making her laugh and feel at ease. Your mind tried to tell you that this wasn’t normal, and yet the more you looked at her the more attracted to her you became. Eventually, you put any thought of being gay behind you, and embraced being the straight jock you were. You found yourself flirting with her more and more, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and adrenaline rush through you.
As the night wore on, all recollection of your past life began to fade away. You couldn't recall anything about the shop or the growth. It became clear to you that this was no simulation, and the only thing that remained was the knowledge that you were a talented football jock, and that you loved it. The dreamlike quality of your surroundings had dissipated, leaving you feeling more grounded in reality. You were now living in a perfect world where you were adored by all, and it felt like exactly where you belonged. As you walked out of the party with the cheerleader on your arm, you couldn't help but feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.
Forced into football and football gear.
Forced into submission and servitude.
Forced into bondage and bro-ing out.
Forced into hypno and hyper-masculinity.
Forced into eternal enslavement and eventual enjoyment.
Forced, but Freed.
Just watch the ball dude. That’s it. Up down. Breath in and out. Up down. Just like the rise and fall of your chest. Your pecs as they rise and grow, each breath. Up down. Like your shoulders, your lats, as you stretch, flex and widen. Up down. Thickening thighs. Up down. Tight round ass. Up down. Throbbing and twitching of your cock as it swells and pumps. Watch the ball spin. Get dizzy get dumb. Watch it rise. Watch it fall like all your anxieties, fears, insecurities. Be a bro dude. Up down. Be a jock. Up down. Up down. Welcome to the team.
Hey, just found your blog and god it’s hot!
Was wondering if you could help me with something. My brother is this huge jock that keeps asking me to go to the gym with him. I would rather not go as I prefer staying inside and playing games, but he has had enough and is going to make sure he has a brother that’s like him and can go to the gym with.
Exploring something different is always a good idea, especially if it’s with family. Since he’s been attending the gym this year, your brother has been getting well-known for his abilities on and off the field. If you have even half of his genes, you shouldn’t worry. Leave it up to your new Coach and, of course, your brother.
You just had no idea what he saw in this place. As far as you were concerned, he only started becoming this new douchbag jock since he signed up for the local college team. However, since your graduation last year, he has been going on and on about "following in his footsteps" and decided for himself that you didn't have anything else better to do. After what seemed like months of your older brother's demands to get you to join the gym, you finally caved and gave in. At the very least, it would keep him quiet if you went just once.
After getting to the locker room, he looked inside and pulled out a small black duffel bag and threw it down to the ground.
"There we go. Everything you need to follow in my footsteps is in here, bro!"
What the hell, you thought, as you opened up the bag to see that it was full of his old kit from the start of the year. God knows how long it had sat in the locker room, likely unwashed from practice.
"When you said that I should borrow your kit, I thought you would have at least made it clean."
He laughed and patted you on the back - "We'll get you some fresh kit if you make the team, but in the meantime, a few hand-me-downs between brothers never hurt you before".
At first, you found the entire process embarrassing. There was no way you would match your brother's reputation, and even worse, you had no idea that it was going to be a try-out session. Sure, there were only a few years between the two of you, but ever since your brother became a meathead jock it was like everything was different. It was like he was a completely new person - especially around his new teammates.
Oblivious to your hesitation, your brother had already removed his shirt. You couldn't help but notice how his body had transformed since becoming a football player. Stacked abs, strong legs, wide shoulders... "perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to be more in shape" you caught yourself thinking, as you quickly sped up to match him. You removed your loose clothes, neatly folded them, and then pulled out the skintight undershirt from the bag.
With the locker room starting to fill up with other players, you noticed that not all of them were like your brother - there were a few newbies like yourself, likely roped along to the tryouts the same as you.
"No need to be nervous, bro we're all from the same team. Just follow me," he reassured you, as you realised that you had no idea what half of this gear even was.
Following his movements, you found and removed his old jockstrap and cup from the bottom of the bag, pads and compression trousers and, one-by-one, matched your brother as you pulled them up your legs - all in sync with the movements of your brother as if on some sort of autopilot or sibling-ritual.
The room - or perhaps your vision - started to go a little hazy with all of the activity. Your brother started making jokes to his mates, introducing you and making you feel welcome in your half-geared-up state. Stood side-by-side, the rest of the team kept telling you how much you looked alike, minus the hair. In some ways, you could see yourself taking off from where he was only a year ago. "Maybe joining the team, being with the other jocks, wasn't so embarrassing after all," you thought, as you caught your reflection in the mirror. You realised that they were right - your shoulders were wider, your pecs were pushed out and your legs were stronger. You were a jock, and you looked - and felt - fucking great!
With this new headspace, tryouts were a complete pushover. Your brother was grinning from ear to ear as you were announced as a potential new team member by the Captain. The only thing left, of course, would be to get the last approval from Coach...
"Sorry, bro. This one you have to do on your own."
—-
Feel free to send me a tip on Ko-Fi and for more tf locker room posts and to request your own, follow @coachs-locker-room
“I am currently in between names.”
Keep your right-wing conspiracies out of these tags, they're for fetish stuff ONLY i decided
what the fuck was i even doing here
dont think about it too hard bro huhuhhh… just think how good it feels to be branded with Nike… everything ur wearin, Nike. feel that tight armband huhuhh feel how tight it is? squeeezin ur muscle bro. that same squeeeezin on your brains bro! keep fightin it, its just gonna get worse, like somethin u forgot riiight on the tip of ur tounge bro!
yea yea u keep sayin “ur old life” like thats somethin bro. musta been some movie u watched or somethin. u always been like this. fuckin football, fuckin dumb as a box of rocks huhuhh, but ur good at football bro. and workin out. i know u wanna think u were smart once, but u werent bro. its ok, dont think about it. just focus…. ur life is good, ur life is easy, ur a bro, bro.
thaaats it bro. let it go now. good bro.
I’m a good bro for the Team