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Episode 3

"Hey Gorger! Catch!" Jason yelled across the locker room, and then threw his dirty jockstrap at George, where he was sitting on the bench. He had never had very quick reflexes, so he looked up too late, but right on time for the sweaty fabric to smack him right across the face, causing the rest of the football jocks in the room to start laughing their asses off. George's ears turned red, and he peeled the jock off, only to find that everyone else in the room had joined in on the fun. He just cowered in a ball, and by the end of the barrage, he was surrounded by dirty practice uniforms, jockstraps and a collection of naked athletes, all laughing at him.

Their laughter was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Coach Davis from his office, and when he saw the scene, he just smirked, and said, "Glad to see you've already gotten started on the laundry, Mr. Redman," which made all of the jocks laugh even harder, and George turn redder. He hated this job so much. He had no idea why he of all people had been forced to work as the assistant manager to the football team. Really, he was just a glorified towel boy. He did the team's laundry, managed their equipment, and was Coach Davis's errand boy, all for a measly nine dollars an hour. It didn't help that he was fat, a fact which had earned him the nickname "Gorger" in the locker room. Of course, the stress of the whole situation had just made him eat more, and he had been gaining weight steadily since the beginning of the semester. All of his attempts to get out of the job had been unsuccessful, because he had a contract with the school which lasted until the end of the season, two long months away. Two long, excruciating months of daily humiliation. He had learned that it was easier just to try and ignore them all, so he got up and started picking up the laundry, while the jocks, still laughing, headed over to the showers.

When he had gotten all of it into the hamper next to him, he started over towards the laundry room in the gym, but he heard coach Davis call out behind him, "These too, Gorger," and the coach hurled his own balled up laundry at the back of his head, causing the jocks to laugh even more. He hated them so much, but he didn't have any power over them. No one in the administration had cared when he told them about how they treated him treatment. Coach Davis was the best thing to happen to the football team in years, and the school couldn't afford to let him go. So George just picked up the clothes where they had fallen, added them to the pile, and left before anything else could happen.

It was already seven o' clock, but George was used to being the only one left in the building at night. Besides, it wasn't like he had any pressing engagements to get to that night. He was a freshman this year, and had hoped that college would give him a chance to start over. Instead, it turned out to be more of the same. More jocks making fun of him for his size. Still not able to make any friends, because he was too shy. It didn't help that he was gay as well, and too afraid to tell anyone, because, if that the football team found out, the abuse would only get worse. Actually, it was worse than high school. At least in high school, he could go home and get away from everyone. Here, he actually had to live with these assholes.

He got to the laundry room, put the hamper on the table, took a deep breath, and sighed. Then, he took a deep breath again, through his nose. There was a smell in the room, something really...good. Something he needed. And it was coming from the hamper. George began rummaging through it, giving everything a sniff, but it was only a few of the items which had that smell on them, and he separated them out. When he finished, it turned out that he had laid out a sleeveless shirt, a jockstrap, some athletic shorts, and two socks. It took George a second to realize that they had all come from the same person, and that was from Coach Davis.

Ignoring his cock, which was now tenting in his pants, George paced the room, trying to figure out what was going on. The smell was still there, and he unwittingly took deeper breaths every time he passed by the coach's clothes laid out on the table. What was going on? Sure, the coach was pretty handsome, but George hadn't been attracted to him before; he was too much of a jerk to be likable. And he still wasn't attracted to him. The thought to doing anything with the man made George's skin crawl, but then why had he just been able to pick out all of the coach's clothing out by smell alone? What in the world was going on? George stopped in front of the clothes, and a stray thought entered his mind. He wanted to try the clothes on. He wanted to get that smell on him, he wanted it to be his smell.

George shook his head, went over to the sink in the laundry room and splashed his face with water. Where had those thoughts come from? He'd certainly never had a thing for sweat, dirty laundry, or anything like that before. In fact, George preferred to keep himself clean, but something about putting on the coach's clothes was turning him on big time. The feel that sweaty shirt against his skin, to smell the musk coming off of it, it would be so hot. And that jock...it was enough just to make him want to rip his clothes off.

George shut his eyes and tried to concentrate on something else, and realized that it felt a bit colder in the room. He looked around, and saw that he was naked. Startled, he looked around for where his clothes had gone, but they were nowhere to be found. He needed to get something on, in case someone walked by and saw him, and that was all the excuse his mind needed. He walked over the table, and started pulling on the coach's clothes where he had laid them out. He pulled the shirt on first, pulling it down as far as he could. It was an extra large at least, but it still wasn't enough to cover all of George's gut. He didn't care, it was on him, and that's what mattered. Next came the jockstrap. He couldn't help but smell it first, reveling in the scent of the coach's crotch, and then stepped into it. It was a bit difficult to get on, because his legs were much bigger than the coaches, and he had to pull the pouch up and under his gut. Following the jockstrap came the athletic shorts, which were almost skin tight on him, and he couldn't quite get them up to his waist. He could feel the top of his ass crack sticking out over the waistband, but he didn't care. He was almost there. He sat down, pulled on the socks, stood up, and nothing happened.

Well, something happened. George immediately felt ridiculous. Why in the world had he wanted to try on these clothes so badly anyway? However, it felt like the next thing he should do was go look at himself in a mirror, but there weren't any in the laundry room. The closest ones would be in the locker room, but he couldn't go back there and risk being seen. His best bet would be the bathrooms down the hall. After checking that no one was coming, he hurried down the hallway as fast as he could, praying that no one should turn the corner and see him. As he walked, he noticed that the shorts were getting looser, and George figured that he had just managed to stretch them out. The same with the shirt. By the time he got to the bathroom, they almost felt comfortable, natural on him. And he could make out that smell again, stronger than before, and his cock was even harder than it had been in the laundry room. Inside, George rushed up the mirror, and looked at himself.

He was still fat, not that that was surprising, but the fact that the coach's clothes fit him so badly just made that fact all the more apparent. His gut, or really, his apron, hung down out of his shirt (although hadn't it been a bit bigger that morning?). His flabby shoulders pushed against the open sleeves, pinching his arms like sausages. His second chin completely obscured the collar of the shirt as well. The athletic shorts looked like they were pasted to his thighs, and while George couldn't see the jockstrap, he could feel the elastic straps chaffing at his skin. The overall effect was laughable. It looked like a short fat kid trying to pretend he was an gym rat. He was about to take the shirt off, when he noticed something in the mirror. His gut was actually shrinking, visibly. Over the next few seconds, as he watched, it shrank, inch by inch, until it didn't hang past the shirt at all anymore. George didn't know why it had happened, but for whatever reason, he was overjoyed. However, that joy was cut short when he suddenly felt a deep ache start in his bones and radiate outward, causing him to bend over and moan. It grew in intensity, almost as though his bones were lengthening within him, and the rest of his body had to make way for their new size. His fat was melting away faster now, and he could see in the mirror that the clothes no longer looked too tight. In fact, they looked a little baggy.

The pain in his bones began to ease away, and carefully, George stood up straight again, and found that he must have grown six or seven inches at least, because he was seeing the entire room from a new, higher, perspective. Most of his fat had disappeared as well, leaving him looking quite slender. However, that look didn't last for long, because his muscles began to ache and cramp, first in his legs, and then spreading up his body. He looked down and saw that his calves were quickly doubling in size, the muscles gaining definition, the same with his thighs. By the time the sensation had reached his waist, his legs where massive, every individual muscle bulging outward, and the shorts were back to being almost too tight on him, but stretched around two muscular thighs rather than two fat ones. His ass had built up definition too, and from the side, it looked like two hot slabs of muscle. The sensation rose higher, George lifted up his shirt and watched as a set of rock hard abs appeared where his gut had been just a short time ago. However, there was also a bit of fat built up there too, but it just pushed the muscles out, into a solid muscle gut. He ran his fingers along the ridges and shivered at the new sensation. On top of his gut grew two massive pecs as well, which stretched the shirt tight across them, so tight that he could make out his nipples through the fabric. His arms followed suit, biceps bulging out, veins popping up, even his forearms and wrists expanded to twice the size, and his hands became big, meaty paws. His neck expanded until it was lined with thick cords of muscle, and even his face became harsher, and more angular. By the end of it, he had obviously surpassed even the coach's size, based on the way his clothes fit George's body. It really was his body too. George knew he had been fat just minutes before, but it had faded like an old memory. This was his new reality, and he couldn't have been happier.

However, his transformation wasn't finished yet. His skin tingled, and hair began to sprout all over. George had been moderately hairy before, but now he saw that even his forearms were covered. What was even stranger was that it was the wrong color. His hair had been brown, but the new stuff was a bright, ginger red. But as soon as he thought that, he realized that was wrong. He'd always had red hair. After all, that was where he had gotten his nickname, "Red." It wasn't very creative, since his last name was already Redman, but all of the boys on the team usually just called him "Coach Red." He kept his hair clipped short, in a flat top, and had a short, but well trimmed beard on his face. He liked how rugged it made him look. Sure, he was getting on in years, and starting to show some grey too, but he was still a horny fucker, and didn't mind showing it. He cupped his crotch and surveyed himself in the mirror. Yeah, he was fucking hot, a tall, hulking muscle bear, just like he'd always been. Tattoos appeared on his arms as well, but they looked a bit faded with age, as though he had gotten them years ago. There were twin snakes running through flames on his forearms, a bear paw on his right bicep, and a ring of barbed wire around the other one.

He lifted one of his arms and took a deep sniff from his hairy pit, reveling in his musk. He loved that smell. In fact, he loved the smell of men in general, especially right after they'd finished working out on the field, that powerful smell of grass, dirt, sweat, and good old masculinity. He could smell it all day, and never be satisfied. He hauled his cock out as well, and started stroking all nine inches of it. He loved a good jack off session after a day on the field. However, he liked a good fuck better, and as a matter of fact, there was someone in the building who could use a good fucking at the moment. Red shoved his cock back into his shorts, and stormed down the hall towards the locker room and the coach's office, which, if he had his way, would soon be his office.

The first thing he heard when he got into the locker room was a moan coming from the coach's office. Curious to see who was enjoying themselves so much, Red snuck over (far more gracefully than he thought he would be able to in his new body) and opened the door quickly. Inside, he found Coach Davis on his knees in front of Jason, sucking his cock, while the young athlete moaned loudly. When the door burst open, they both looked up, and saw an imposing redheaded musclebear dressed in Coach Davis's clothes from earlier, filling the doorway. They could smell him too, and the sheer strength of it made them both swoon. Coach Davis felt his mouth start to water, and immediately imagined himself sucking that cock instead of Jason's. Wasn't that the cock he was supposed to be sucking anyway? He shook his head, wiped up his mouth, and embarrassed to have been caught in such a position, shouted, "Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm your replacement," Red said, and then pointed at Jason, "You, out. Go lift some weights and wait for me. Be sure to work up a sweat by the time I get there."

Jason wasn't one to take orders, but the witty retort he had prepared died on his tongue, and that disturbed him. He was someone who liked to be in control. He had whittled down Coach Davis's defenses for months before the man had finally relented and sucked his cock. However, this new guy (coach, his mind told him) had a natural sense of authority about him. Jason not only couldn't disobey him, he didn't even want to. Without another thought, he high-tailed it out of the office, putting on his gym clothes as he went, and headed for the weight room, leaving Davis and Red alone.

"Quite a show you were putting on there. You suck off all of the players on the team?" Red said, and Davis blushed.

"Shut the fuck up and get out of my office. I don't know how you got in here, but don't make me throw you out the door."

Red laughed, "Excuse me? This is my office. As I said earlier, I'm your replacement. But that means we need to find an opening for you..." Red started rubbing his bulge, and Davis watched it for a moment, transfixed. Then he shook his head, and stood up.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Now get out."

Red took a step closer, and watched Davis's knees tremble, being so close to him, but the man still resisted. Some part of Davis's mind told him he was in mortal danger, that this was a time to either fight, or flee, and he had never been someone to run from a fight. So he took a swing at Red's face.

Without any conscious thought, Red's body grabbed the incoming fist, redirected the force and threw Davis out of the office and onto the rough concrete of the locker room floor. A moment later, Red was on top of him, trying to pin him to the ground. Davis fought, and he fought well, but there was no way he could have won. Red was not only larger and more skilled than him, but with every breath Davis took, he took in more of Red's musk. The musk which told him to give up, obey, and let the superior man dominate him. It would feel so good, it would feel right, if he just submitted. A minute later, Red had him pinned face down on the ground, and was lying on top of him, grinding his rock hard, nine inch cock up the crack of Davis's bare ass.

"Yeah, you feel that? That's a real man's tool. Did you see how fast I pinned you? How fast I beat you? You don't deserve to be top dog around here, do you?"

Davis just moaned, and started bucking his hips in rhythm with Red's thrusting. He was so horny. All he could smell was Red, all around him, and he wanted him. He wanted him to dominate him. He wanted that cock up his ass. A real man's cock up his ass. It was what he needed, what he deserved. "Please...please, Sir. Fuck me. I need it," He heard himself say. He couldn't help it. He needed release, and Coach Red could give it to him.

"You want me to fuck you?" Red asked, and pulled his cock out of his pants, "Do you want me to ram this entire dick of mine up your ass, to make you scream for me? Is that really what you want?"

Davis could only moan, and weakly nod his head. Red spit a few times into his hand, and rubbed it up and down the shaft until it was slick, then lined it up at Davis's hole. He applied some pressure, and Davis's virgin cherry gradually gave way to Red's monster. The man beneath him grunted at first, and then shouted out as the head slipped past his inner sphincter and started to rub up against his prostate. He felt so full, it felt so right. How could he have avoided submitting for so long? Why had he not immediately knelt down and kissed the feet of this god, this man who was giving him so much pleasure?

Red started slowly, and then began to work his dick in deeper, inch by inch, into Davis's asshole. As he did, he watched the man beneath him change. He started to lose some of his mass first, though it wasn't so much muscle as mass in general. It was almost like he was becoming more compact. As Red became more aggressive, though, Davis did start to lose some muscle, as well as some of his body hair as well. He also noticed that the bald spot on his head filled in, and assumed that Davis was growing younger as well. His moans were also increasing in pitch, moving up from the deep bass he had had to a low tenor, with a hint of a lisp. By now, Davis was actively pushing back into Red, begging him to show his boy how much of a man he was, and Red just fucked him harder, pulling his entire cock out and then ramming it back in. On one such thrust, he heard Davis give a low moan, and felt his ass spasm, signaling that he had just shot his own load onto the concrete floor without even touching his dick. The thought of that drove Red wild, and he began pounding his boy's ass even harder.

"Yeah, feel that?" Red said, "That was you shooting with a man's dick buried up your asshole, you little pig. You want daddy's bearcum up your ass? Cause that's what you're going to get!" he plunged his cock in as far as it would go, and let loose. With every pulse of his cock, he could watch Davis's figure begin to bloat, and fill up with fat. The thought that he had just taken a fellow coach, and fucked him into a little ass pig made Red even hotter. He was going to enjoy having his new towel boy around, and from the moans coming from the boy beneath him, he wasn't the only one who was going to enjoy their new relationship.

When his dick finally shrank back, Red pulled it out and stood up. A bit unsteady on his feet, the cub who had previously been Coach Davis stood up as well. While nowhere near as fat as George had been not even an hour ago, he was still quite chubby, with a round face, neatly trimmed goatee, and hair matted and sweaty from the fuck he had just gotten. He was also quite short, and only came up to Red's chin. The weight looked good on him however, and he had a solid build, which told Red he would be a hot, fireplug of a man one day. Red was surprised to find that the anger which he had felt for Davis was suddenly washed away in a tide of adoration. He pulled his cub into him and kissed him passionately, an act that Davey was happy to return.

They lingered together a bit afterwards, and Davey couldn't help but sniff at his coach's pit, reveling in the stink of his daddy, "Daddy Red, you smell really good."

"Well, when you grow up, you'll smell just as good as I do. But for now, why don't you go finish up the laundry. If you do a good job, I'll let you sleep with my dirtiest jockstrap tonight, how does that sound?"

Davey just grinned, and hurried off, walking a bit bowlegged and still naked, to the laundry room, and Red chuckled. He did love his cub, and with a little work, he'd grow up to be as big a man as his daddy. For now though, Red had one last person to see before he could call it a night. He tucked his now soft dick back into his shorts, and headed for the weight room.

When he got there, he found Jason at the bench press, working away, and as per Red's orders, he had managed to work up quite a sweat. When he saw Red come into the room, Jason put the barbell back on the rack, and sat up. Red strode over, laid him back down on the bench and kissed him, while Jason reveled in their combined sweat and musk. He loved his evening sessions with Coach Red; they were the best part of his day. They were even better when the whole team stuck around, and they partied in the showers for a few hours together. Red always said that team bonding was important, and no one questioned what Coach Red said.

"What do you say we up the weight a bit?" Red said, and got up, adding a couple of twenty pound weights to the bar, "I'll spot you."

Jason laid back down, and found himself face to face with his coach's bulge. He could smell it through the athletic shorts, and it made him feel hot, and horny.

His own cock began to tent in his shorts, at the thought of slathering away at his coach's cock. "I don't know if I can handle that much, coach," he said, "What's my incentive?"

"Ten reps, and you can suck my cock. How does that sound?"

Jason just picked the bar up in reply, and started pumping it up and down. The first five were easy, but then he started to get a bit winded. When Red say this, he started giving Jason a bit of encouragement, "Come on Jason, what are you, a weakling? You want to suck my cock or not? I mean, if you don't really want to, I'm sure I can get Mitch in here and he'll bench this no problem. Maybe I should just take you off first string. Mitch can suck my cock if you aren't man enough to get that barbell up. Come on, you got two more to go. I know you want it, you always want a taste of my hard, sweaty cock, don't you boy? But maybe you're heart isn't in it tonight. Push through, you only got one left. You can do it, there!"

Jason made it up on his last rep, arms shaking, and got the barbell back onto the rack with Red's help. He was rewarded a moment later with Red's cock slammed down his throat. He started sucking at it while his coach rammed his meat in and out, fucking his throat. By the first week of working with Red, Jason had already lost his gag reflex, and now coach's cock just went down easy. He started rubbing his own cock through his shorts, while Red bent over the bar and started tweaking Jason's nipples. Even though he had just cum a few minutes ago, the sight of the top jock choking down his meat was too much for Red, and he shot his second load of the night down Jason's throat. When he came down from his orgasm, he saw that Jason, too, had changed, though not as drastically as Davey. He looked like he had packed on a bit of muscle, just from drinking his coach's cum. Jason licked his lips, and smiled at his coach, still stroking his own cock, and said, "Now what are we going to do about this thing?"

Red came around, and sat on the bench, "Keep strokin' it for me. And while you're at it, clean out my pits for me. I know how that turns you on."

Jason didn't need to be asked twice. Red lifted up his arm and Jason buried his face in his coach's pit, took a deep breath, and moaned. The smell was so strong, so masculine. He just wanted to lose himself in it. He started licking away, and as he did, he stroked his dribbling cock faster and faster, while Red whispered in his ear, "Yeah, lick that pit. Get that smell all over your face. You like that, don't ya? You like the smell of a real man? Boy, I haven't showered for days, and you're just lickin' up all that sweat and grime like it was the tastiest thing in the world. I guess I shouldn't be surprised--none of you boys can resist my stink. You all fight in the locker room for a chance to lick out my grimy pits, don't ya? Cum boy! Cum with your face buried in your coach's pit!"

Unable to take it anymore, Jason shot his load all over both of them, his face never leaving Red's armpit until his dick had gone soft, and then, only reluctantly. He was panting, and exhausted, but Red was just getting started. That show had gotten his dick all hard again, and he figured he would have to give Davey another fuck that night, before they went to bed.

"I think that's enough for the day, Jason. But don't hit the showers. I want you to be good and sweaty for our practice session tomorrow morning," Red said, and winked.

"Sure thing coach," Jason replied, grinned, and then left to go get changed.

Alone in the weight room, Red took a moment to catch his breath. He lay back on the bench press, one hand behind his head, the other idly stroking his cock, fantasizing about all of the players at practice tomorrow. He figured they could use a day inside on the weight machines, naked of course. It was good to be the coach.