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The Spotters Written by Leo_Todrius Commissioned by Boredom Edited by Boredom

Late spring was always a strange time. Sometimes it seemed as if the weather was trying out summer heat, testing the waters, only to pull back at the last minute into its comfort zone of wetness. The sporadic nature of it all tended to keep people indoors, at least most people. That was not the case for Trent Faust. Trent was tired of a winter of inactivity; more than that, he was tired of a life lived a little less active than he would have liked. He'd made a resolution to himself to reshape his life and he wasn't the kind of man to go back on a resolution... even if it was intimidating.

Trent moved along the street, his reflection catching on the windows of the store fronts he passed. He was a man of average height, his black hair somewhere between neat and shaggy. He had a good sized frame, but he was a bit soft around the middle. His brown eyes regarded his reflection as he approached the only gym near his house, wondering how he might look in a few weeks. He'd read about it online. The equipment was top notch, the atmosphere friendly (or so the review said), but one thing had really stuck out to him: In the pictures, a large portion of the gym members had been orcs.

To say Trent didn't admire the orcs would have been a bald faced lie. It seemed like most Orcs excelled at the physical arts whether that was working in the gym, boxing, wrestling and gymnastics. The only problem was that they also had a reputation for being more boisterous, wilder, louder and lewder. But, like any group of people, that was a generalization. For all Trent knew it could even be a stereotype. He wasn't going to let rumors keep him from working out; he was going to give it a try.

The doors to the 'Jade Gym' eased open and Trent moved in, his duffel bag under his arm. He'd come ready to work out but he had a change of clothes, water and a variety of other potentially useful gear at the ready. Trent's jaw slowly fell in wonder as he looked around at it all. Treadmills, stationary bikes, steppers, dipping bars, chin up bars, dumbbells, and a dozen other pieces of equipment. It all looked clean, neat and very well maintained.

Trent's eyes slowly trailed from the equipment to those occupying the gym itself. While there were a few humans and one oddly muscled Drow, the majority of the gym members were orcs. They ranged from six to eight feet tall, their skin was anywhere between lime and forest green and they all were very... very muscled. Some were just buff, others had the muscle guts of power lifters. Trent watched for a long moment as they hoisted weights up, their biceps and triceps bulging, sweat beading out of their chests and running down through the thick tufts of hair there.

With a quick swallow, Trent reminded himself to stop staring and he moved over to get started on something easy like the treadmill to get warmed up. He had to figure out a workout strategy, a schedule that would help him maximize his exercise. He was committed to change, assuming he'd be able to get by at Jade Gym. Trent increased the speed of the machine and started into a light jog, then a faster run. The faster he ran, the harder he breathed; Trent's lungs filled with the smell of the gym, though it was particularly strong.

Every gym held the scent of sweat, of man, but a gym occupied by so many orcs took that to the next level. The musk was peaty, earthy, and a touch spicy and very appealing in a way Trent knew it shouldn't be. He tried to push it out of his mind, but the treadmill was a perfect people watcher's tool. He was standing in place, running along with the whole gym to look at. He looked at one orc's long brown hair braided into a queue, while another orc had short hair and a very long, rich, full beard. The longest beard in the place belonged to an older orc, his head mostly bald, leaving him with a crown of hair around the back that connected to his beard but left the top of his green head smooth. Then again there were also young orcs that barely seemed eighteen, boasting their first mutton chops. Trent just hoped things would keep going smoothly.

****

Trent moved into the gym, stretching a bit after a long day's work. He was honestly excited about his workout regimen for the evening. He'd been coming for an entire week and he had the whole weekend ahead of him. Trent felt proud of the pounds he'd shed in just a few days. A large portion of that was water weight, but some was fat, and it was the first step before he started to pack on new muscle. Trent flashed his card and moved through, though as he entered the gym itself, he came face to shoulders with a group of orcs huddled around one of the machines. Trent grimaced at the fleshy green barrier.

"What's going on?" he asked meekly. One of the orcs looked back and saw Trent and realized at his height he couldn't quite see.

"Oh, sorry, here." The orc said. Trent had a large firm arm wrap around his shoulders, guiding him through the crowd. As he was maneuvered forward, Trent felt a bit squeezed between thick arms and hips, though he looked at the arm of the orc guiding him. Wearing only a wife beater, the orc's hairy underarm was right at face height. Trent shuddered softly before he was squeezed through one more orc sandwich and appeared right at the front of the crowd. The reason for the gathered mass was now obvious.

Lying on the flat bench was the fifty year old orc, Grog. A twenty eight year old orc was spotting him, but he seemed to need little help. Grog was hoisting nine hundred pounds of weights up and down above his head, puffing away. His chest rose and fell steadily, the breath shot in and out of his thick nostrils. Trent's jaw dropped open in awe. Grog went at it for ten more repetitions before he returned the weights to the holder, the bar almost sagging a bit. Rubbing his hands together, he sat up, looking at the crowd.

"Now... Let that be incentive to you all. Any of you can do what I did, and if you are able to triple your maximum weight in two months, you'll get a free year's membership. But this isn't just about saving money; it's about making yourself a better person. Remember: always use a spotter. You can't push yourself too fast; you have to respect your body. Now, this old man's kept your attention long enough." Grog chuckled. The group started to spread out across the gym, returning to their usual equipment. Trent stood, contemplating the possibility of managing to triple his weight limit. He'd barely gotten started with the weights.

"So, what about you, are you going to give the challenge a go?" The orc that had been spotting Grog asked. Trent looked up in surprise.

"Me?" Trent asked, not expecting to be remarked. He looked at the orc, wondering if he was being made fun of but there didn't seem to be any judgment, malice or ill will on the orc's face. The spotter smiled.

"Yeah. I mean it's triple whatever you can lift, so it isn't like it's something that's only opened to one species." The man said with a smile.

"I, uh, don't have a spotter." Trent said. The orc crossed his thick muscled arms, his thick black eyebrows lowering.

"Of course you do, you're looking at him." The orc said.

"But we don't even know each other." Trent said, a bit surprised at the offer.

"That's easy enough to fix. I'm Mal Dubrin." The orc said.

"Trent Faust." Trent replied.

"German heritage, nice. See, we know each other now." Mal grinned, "So I'll be your spotter unless you want someone else to be."

"You sure? I mean I'm pretty new to this sort of stuff." Trent said Mal shrugged.

"Well, everyone's gotta start somewhere. I work here part time so it's good to make sure our members are doing things safely, or they can't come in. Plus I started at a pretty crappy gym that didn't have the sense of community that Jade does. This is sort of a brotherhood of the temple of the body. We should support each other, and I think that's something everyone here respects." Mal said. Trent looked at Mal, contemplating it all. When he first showed up he had almost been scared, then he'd sort of navigated between them. Now he was going to be working directly with an Orc, but there was no reason to worry about that. They didn't seem pushy, rude or anything. They were people and they were offering him help. He would have been a fool to refuse.

"Then I guess I'm starting here." Trent said. Mal grinned wide.

"Good, good. Alright, let's see where you are for weight tolerance and get some reps going." Mal said, moving to take off the nine hundred pound weights and go for something a bit lighter. Trent moved over to sit down on the bench, pulling gloves out of his bag and putting them on. He was rather excited by the prospect of a challenge. It was just what he needed to keep his incentive level up. Trent leaned back onto the bench, looking up at Mal upside down. His skin was a fantastic khaki green color, his black hair thick and spiked and he had a short but incredibly dense beard. Trent tried not to think of rubbing it all over his face. It was going to be a long two months...

****

Laughter echoed through the locker room doors as Trent and Mal approached, pushing in. In just a few weeks the two had grown quite close. Trent had finally relaxed about his possessions enough to buy a lock for one of the lockers so he didn't have to lug everything to and fro and it gave him the added benefit of having more time to talk with Mal. The only downside was that it upped the amount of green flesh Trent saw in a day exponentially, but that wasn't very terrible down side. Trent just had to keep as much control over his body as he did during his workouts.

"No, don't tell me, you're still using tighty whities?" Mal asked in shock.

"I could never stand boxers." Trent shrugged.

"Not boxers either, that's... Man, I can't let you go through another workout in those cotton vices. You'll pop yourself." Mal smirked, opening up his locker. Trent paused in confusion, wondering what he was doing. Mal dug through his stuff before he pulled out two jock straps. Trent's eyes widened in shock and his pants tented a bit before he looked away. Mal looked at the two jock straps, trying to decide which would fit the human better.

"Here." He said, jutting one forward.

"I'm not going to wear your underwear..." Trent said, trying to hide his blush. Mal rolled his eyes.

"Humans... It's no different than laying on a sweaty machine, and it's going to be a lot more comfortable. Put it on, listen to your trainer." Mal grinned.

"Well, I guess... that's true. I just have to find a bathroom." Trent said, looking around. Mal rolled his eyes.

"If you're worried about your decency, I'll guard you." Mal smirked, crossing his arms, moving to stand between Trent and the door, his broad back blocking any view. Trent was left clutching Mal's jock strap, looking at it. He held it in his hand, gazing at it for a long moment before something in him snapped. He quickly dropped his shorts, then his underwear, his half hard manhood jutting out into the air. He stepped through the jockstrap straps and pulled them up, moving them into place. The fabric cupped his hard cock and Trent swore it was a little moist, but he didn't care. He moved his hips a bit, trying to get a feel for them

"You're right, they are more comfortable." Trent said.

"See!" Mal said, turning around, clapping Trent around the shoulder before he decided to pull him into a full hug. Mal chuckled, hugging Mal back. Mal patted Trent's shoulder a bit more before he let him go, looking to the human, "Alright, before we start I'm going to see if Grog brought any mineral water. He's got a fantastic well, just great stuff." Mal said, grabbing his gear from his locker. Trent nodded, moving to his own locker to get his own gear for the day.

****

Trent murmured as he stirred to wakefulness, rolling over in bed. He loved Saturdays... A whole day of whatever he wanted to do. After a month at the gym, the lactic acid build up had decreased and he didn't feel like death warmed over after a week of work. Mal and Grog had really been helpful in all of that too. Trent had to smile, realizing his two closest gym friends were such big, burly orcs... but more than thinking about them, he had to get ready to go in for his day's workout.

He pulled the covers back, revealing that he was wearing only Mal's old jock strap. He soon got up and made his way to the bathroom, pausing in front of the mirror. Trent looked at himself, having to admire his progress. His fat was melting away and his muscles were coming in. His biceps and triceps were bigger, his lats and his glutes... It was all looking good. He reached up to rub at his left pectoral, though his hand grazed some hair that hadn't been there before. Trent grinned wide, glad the extra testosterone was doing something. He looked up at the mirror, realizing that his stubble was growing out a bit too.

Instinctively he reached for the razor and shaving cream but he stopped his hands part way. He searched his brain but couldn't remember one rule at work about facial hair so long as it was neat... and all the guys at the gym had facial hair. Trent was tired of being baby faced. Trent nodded to himself, making another resolution. He was going to see what growing his beard out was like... But first he had to catch a quick shower. Trent reverently peeled the jock strap off and set it aside before he moved to turn on the shower, the grin never leaving his face. He stepped into the stream of water and wrapped his hand around his manhood, starting to stroke it off as he imagined being so much stronger, bigger and hairier. He was so turned on by his progress and he knew it was only going to get better and better.

****

Trent stood at the far side of the gym, looking at the rack he'd only seen from a distance. In many ways it wasn't that different from the hand weights and dumbbells elsewhere in the gym, but in appearance they were quite different. Made of copper, iron and titanium, the duruk were orc weights that took specific body mechanics to utilize. They were vaguely S shaped with stylized metal discs in the center of the curves, the intensity of the blue indicating the weight. Trent had admired them, but he wanted more than ever to try them out. There were no rules posting who could use them. After weeks of imagining, it was time.

Trent moved to pick up some of the weights, trying them out before he found two he likes. The duruk were a bit strange to handle given the alinear shape. He moved them around a bit, trying to find what motions were natural. Trent lifted and lowered them, though as he felt hot flesh press against him, his back arched in surprise. Grog had come up behind him, his muscle gut pressing to Trent's spine and his beard brushing the human's shoulders. Grog reached out to take a hold of Trent's wrists on both hands.

"The duruk are an evolution from orc weapons, rather than weights being an evolution of tools. To use them correctly, you must imagine yourself to be in battle." Grog said. Trent swallowed a bit, flushing at the contact.

"Who am I fighting?" Trent asked. Grog chuckled.

"You are fighting everything you do not wish to be, slaying the weakness of your past and fighting for the freedom of your new self." Grog said.

"I like that." Trent said. Grog chuckled, his hot breath blasting the back of Trent's neck.

"Now, imagine you are charging through an army of your enemies... Stab forward, lift, bring down.... Use the other to block, deflect, shift... and then trade." Grog said, helping Trent achieve the motions. Trent was in awe of how fluid and right it seemed, and while he was turned on by Grog's presence, there was something profoundly deeper about it all. It was like he was becoming a new person, as if he was smashing through all his old barriers. He felt healthier, he felt stronger, he felt better, and he... had a family. It was a strange thought for the muscled orcs to be family, but that's what they were. They cared about him, they helped him, they respected him. It was all about what they could achieve and how they could help each other achieve it. Trent grinned, moving the duruk around with more skill, finding natural patterns. He improvised a bit and slowly Grog stepped back.

Trent stood by the rack, swinging the duruk around, the copper and blue glinting in the light. His arms flexed, his torso, his shoulders. It worked out his entire upper body. Trent moved, taking steps, turning, spinning, lunging. The weight lifting evolved into a dance, a routine, a performance. Trent grinned from ear to ear as the sweat beaded across his forehead and soaked his shirt. Trent couldn't believe how much fun he was having and why human exercise wasn't nearly as fun. As Trent went at it, people walking along outside the gym paused to watch him through the window while those in the gym gathered around a bit. Mal elbowed one of his friends in the ribs with grin and pride. The Drow even looked up from where he was rocking out to heavy metal, his white eyebrows lifting up as he looked at how much Trent had taken to it, but Trent was so in the zone he hadn't noticed all the people watching him.

Trent worked out for several moments, moving around almost like some sort of combat expert, but as he made his last imaginary kill, he opened his eyes and saw all the feet before him. Trent froze in place, looking up to see the crowd. His face blushed beet red but applause and cheers broke out all around. Trent returned the duruk to the rack and moved to try and vacate the area, squeezing through the bystanders, heading for the locker. Mal and Grog turned, moving after him. Trent pushed through the doors and moved to sit on a bench, closing his eyes. The door opened to reveal Trent's orc friends.

"That was fantastic!" Mal grinned. Trent looked up a little skeptically, though the idea did fill him with a bit of pride.

"You sure? I mean, I had no clue what I was doing." Trent said.

"Yes you did. You had proper body mechanics, you got into it, you stopped feeling conscious and you channeled it." Grog said, sitting down next to Trent, their hips brushing.

"It did feel really good." Trent admitted.

"That's the whole point." Mal smirked, sitting on Trent's other size, squeezing him a bit. Mal turned to look into Trent's eyes, "No one's here to torture themselves, that's just them doing it wrong. We are all here to transform ourselves into something better. You've come so far, and you've already doubled how much you can lift." Mal added.

"Right on track for the challenge." Grog grinned wide. Trent chuckled a bit.

"I've changed so much. I mean, not just physically, but I feel a lot less self conscious too. Well, other than just a minute ago." Trent smirked.

"Good, it's about time." Grog smirked.

"About time?" Trent asked. Mal smiled.

"He just means humans are too self conscious about stuff. We are what we are, why be ashamed? We just have to live each day as best we can." Mal replied, putting an arm around Trent's shoulder. Trent considered for a long moment before he smiled.

"I want to thank you both for being so... amazing. Helping me, teaching me" Trent said.

"Of course we're going to teach you; we just didn't want to creep you out by getting too close." Mal replied.

"This after you gave me your jock strap." Trent said. Grog started to chuckle loudly, his muscle gut shaking.

"Now that's a barb worthy of an orc." Grog grinned.

"Well if he's joking like an orc, it's time to feed him like one." Mal said, "Up for dinner Trent?" he asked. Trent's eyes widened.

"A meal? Where at?" Trent questioned.

"Our treat, but you burned a lot of calories. It's time to feast, and I bet you've never eaten at an orc place." Mal said.

"Not really, no, but I'm happy to try it out." Trent grinned. Grog slapped Trent around the backside with an arm, giving him a friendly squeeze. Trent had to admit, being crushed between two massive bearded orcs was lovely. He had never been so sure he made a good decision before.

****

The door to the restaurant opened and rich, savory scents wafted out. Trent felt his stomach growl in protest at not yet being full but his eyes were already drinking in the surroundings. The restaurant was artfully decorated with cloth painted murals on the walls, stone and wood architecture with a fire pit in the center. Ten roasted hams turned over the fires, drizzled with brown sugar caramelizing the meat. A mohawked orc split pineapples with a sword and beer was quite plentiful, being poured out of vast jugs.

"Thanks again, guys. This place is great!" Trent beamed. An eighteen year old orc waiter with a braided brown goatee smiled, gesturing for the three to head over to a booth. Trent sat down and Mal squeezed in next to him. Trent felt quite comfortable pinned against all that muscle ad flesh. Grog slipped in on the other side, spreading his legs wide. Trent had to admit he was a bit excited to see them out of their gym clothes. Mal had a very nice black leather jacket and a leather vest underneath while he wore blue jeans. Grog, however, had gone for leather pants and a green shirt that barely fit over his thick muscles and gut. The waiter set down three pitchers of beer rather than cups before whipping out a notebook.

"Do you fine warriors know what you want, or would you like menus?" The waiter asked.

"Trent, do you trust me?" Mal asked. Trent nodded.

"Of course I do." Trent replied. Mal grinned, turning to the waiter.

"Three grub plates, five wraps, two green glugs and a-" Mal paused, looking at Grog.

"I'll have a black Cerberus... Oh, and some sweet bamboo sticks." Grog added.

"Coming right up." The waiter said, moving off. Trent looked all around the restaurant at all the patrons. There were lots of orcs, equally broad and tall and hairy, but there was also a werewolf couple and an ogre sitting in the back. Despite being human, no one was giving Trent a second glance. He truly belonged. Trent loved that feeling. All those years fearing judgment and he'd wandered into the most accepting group he'd ever experienced.

"So, you did pretty well on the duruk. I think we're going to keep you on that for a week or two, alternating with push ups and general weights. We should be able to get you to triple well before the deadline." Mal said. Trent brought his attention back.

"That really sounds great; I appreciate the help so much... and the meal." Trent said.

"Wait until you have it first." Grog said, looking over as the waiter returned, carefully balancing three huge platters. They were set down onto the table and the waiter smiled.

"I'll be right back with your drinks." He said before moving off. Trent looked at the platter before him, analyzing it all. There was no silverware but the center of the plate was filled with something like pita bread. The outer edge of the plate had small piles of a dozen colors and consistencies. Some were thick like curry while others were as thick as mashed potatoes. Trent turned, watching Grog dig into the white first while Mal went for the red. Trent decided to emulate Mal to start with and took one of the bread slices, dipping it into the red before nibbling the end. He murmured happily as it tasted like honey ham with a strong spice to it.

"This is really good." Trent said.

"Just be careful around the green and yellow, you may have to work up to liking those." Grog said.

"I think if today proved anything it's that I'm adaptable." Trent said with a grin, moving to dip one of the bread slices into the yellow paste, bringing it up to his mouth. He took a big bite and started to chew... and slowly a salty, musky, alkaline taste bloomed across his mouth. The paste was somewhat greasy and tasted like sweat and butter. Trent forced himself to swallow before he smacked his lips a bit. Grog nearly fell out of his seat laughing. Despite the pungent taste, Trent went in for seconds on the yellow, taking a bigger bite. Mal grinned at that, bowing his head with a grin as the waiter returned, setting down a big mug of black liquid before Grog and two green mugs before Mal and Trent. Eager to get the taste out of his mouth, Mal grabbed his mug and tipped it back.

As the thick starchy liquid passed over his lips, he started to regret not reaching for the beer first. The green drink was as thick as pudding but still managed to bubble on his tongue somehow. Trent took a gulp and then another before he leaned back, feeling his head swimming already like the alcohol had gone right to his brain. Mal grinned wide at Trent, glad he'd been so brave on the food. Trent looked back at Mal, thinking to himself that Mal had such wonderful tusks... he'd never seen tusks quite that nice Grog knew it was going to be a long night.

****

The door to Trent's apartment clicked open as he returned, staggering a bit. Mal had been willing to walk him up but Trent had assured him that he was fine. Half way up the stairs, Trent had regretted that decision, though he felt better now that he had made it. He shut the door and took a step before he went back and opened it, pulling his keys out of the lock. Trent chuckled to himself at his silliness before he locked up properly and started making his way back towards his bedroom, stripping off his jacket, his shirt and his pants as he walked, stumbling over them.

With his shirt removed, Trent reached to run his hands up and down over his swollen, distended belly. He'd never eaten so much before but it had all tasted so good. He wasn't sure how the orcs could ever work off ham wrapped in bacon wrapped in seaweed and pineapple, but the wrap had been fantastic. Trent felt a bubble move up his throat and he let out a belch to relieve the pressure, barely making it to his bed before he fell face first into it, rolling over onto his back. One hand moved to gently stroke his belly up and down before his eyes fluttered shut and he passed out, feeling quite wonderful in general.

****

Trent hadn't made it a habit to miss days at the gym, but after his night out on the town he'd taken a day off. He eased the doors open and moved in, pulling out his card to flash at the receptionist. The elf receptionist was new and hesitated, looking at the picture and the man.

"Sir, just a moment, I need to verify your card." The elf said nervously. Trent hesitated, moving over. The elf typed the card number in and brought up a larger picture of Trent before he looked at the card and then the man.

"Is there a problem?" Trent asked.

"No, not at all sir, I'm sorry, I'm new here. Your picture is just a bit old on your card and I didn't recognize the similarities, I'm sorry." The elf apologized. Trent was a bit flummoxed.

"But I can go in, right?" he asked. The elf blushed more.

"Yes, yes, sorry, I won't make the same mistake again." The receptionist apologized. Trent smirked to himself at the oddness of the exchange before he entered and headed for the locker room, waving to Grog and Mal and all the other friends he'd made. He pushed into the locker room and was about to head to his locker before he decided to check out the mirror. He turned heading past the steam room and into the bathroom, turning to give himself a good look over. As he approached the mirror, Mal had to admit, he looked GOOD.

He'd come to the gym as a worried, slightly chubby man. In a month and a half he'd lost his fat and gained an intense amount of muscle. His shoulders were a mantle of flesh, his arms were thick, his neck was thick and his posture was straighter than ever, but his body wasn't the only thing that had changed. The stubble Trent had let grow was really taking off, darkening his whole face with beard. It was thickest above his upper lip and cheeks, though it had pretty good coverage. Trent reached up, running his fingers over his beard appreciatively.

"Now that's hot." Trent grinned to himself. The pride he felt was like a drug in his system. Natural, organic, but completely addictive. He was making himself better all the time and he felt for the first time like he was in his true skin. Without having to worry about day to day living, he was free to make himself a better man. His job was stable, his income good, and his health had never been better. Even more than that, Trent had learned a new philosophy from his orc brothers, a philosophy of acceptance, tolerance and truth. He was what he was, there was no shame showing it.

Trent looked up as Grog moved out of the steam room buck naked. The fifty year old still looked pretty damn fine for his age. Thick muscles, huge pecs and a round muscle gut covered with a trail of hair as thick as the black forest. Before coming to the Jade Gym, Trent would have been embarrassed but there wasn't a single shred of shame left in him. His eyes poured over Grog from his massive beard to his massive belly to his massive meat. It had to be ten inches long soft.

"Looking fine there Grog, that mineral water must do wonders." Trent said.

"Not bad yourself." Grog smirked in return, giving Trent a wink as he made his way to his locker. Trent felt a surge of pride rip through him, settling in his groin. Blood rushed to engorge his member but Trent felt no shame in it, even as his shorts tented. There was no shame in being aroused, he was what he was. Trent moved to his locker to pull his gear out for the day, a wide grin on his lips.

****

The clang of weights echoed as Trent pushed himself, bringing them up and down, up and down, up and down. His arms strained, sweat collected in the thick black hair on his chest as he heaved it up and down. Trent was pushing himself, though he'd been careful not to go so far that he risked injury. Still, it was the heaviest weight he'd lifted yet. Trent hadn't even taken the time to count it, he just felt so jazzed, or at least he had until he heard Mal clicking his tongue from across the gym, jogging over.

"Trent, what did I tell you about trying stuff without a spotter?" Mal said, moving to take position at the head of the bench. He quickly surveyed the situation before he paused, looking at the weights on both side of the beam, his bushy eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"I know, sorry, I just was so excited. I feel so good these days, like there isn't anything I can't do." Trent said, pushing away. His shirt strained under his bulging muscles, weakened by the sweat. Trent pushed harder, faster, groaning. Mal stood by at the ready. Trent felt the shirt cutting against his skin before he gave a particularly good heave, groaning out loud. As he pushed, his shirt tore down the sides, his very hairy pits exposed to open air, the tattered shirt lifting up on his thick chest. Mal grabbed the weights and helped slide them into holding position.

"How many reps did you do?!" Mal asked in shock.

"Forty... I think I could put some more weight on it too." Trent said, panting.

"Not today." Mal shook his head, grabbing Trent's water bottle, handing it to him. Trent brought the water bottle up, sipping from it.

"Because I have to pace myself to reach my goal?" Trent asked.

"No, because you surpassed your goal." Mal said. Trent looked at Mal upside down.

"What do you mean?" Trent asked.

"Trent, you have six hundred pounds here!" Mal replied. Trent sat up in confusion, turning to look at the weights. He counted them up and Mal was right. Slowly the two looked at each other.

"I was lifting six hundred pounds?" Trent asked.

"It's amazing what you can do if you truly commit yourself." Grog's voice came from over by the door. Trent and Mal turned to look at him. Grog grinned, "Congratulations Trent, you just won yourself a free year's membership and some gym swag." Grog said, offering Trent his hand. Trent accepted and stood up, rising to his feet. Grog wasted no time pulling Trent into a bear hug. Trent wrapped his arms around the hulking orc, returning the hug just as tightly. Trent murmured happily as the huge beard rubbed his face before he pulled back, looking at Mal. Mal groaned and pulled Trent into a hug himself. Trent turned to face Mal in the hug, felt their groins rubbing together.

"We're going to party tonight." Mal said.

"Another feast?" Trent asked hopefully.

"No, a bar." Grog said, giving Mal a look, "You'll get him ready?"

"Yeah, I'll take care of it." Mal replied. Grog grinned.

"See you at eight then." Grog said, heading out of the gym. Trent looked at Mal in confusion, shrugging.

"What's there to get ready for?" Mal asked.

"It's a... leather bar." Mal said. Trent barely raised a brow.

"I don't have any leather." Trent replied. Mal rolled his eyes at that.

"That's why I said I'd get you ready." Mal smirked, "Come on stud; let's put you in more of my clothes." Mal grinned. Trent smirked, taking a long, suggestive sip of his water bottle.

****

The door to Mal's apartment opened and Trent stepped in, grunting as Mal cupped his ass. Trent reached back to grope Mal's groin unabashedly. The two had been flirting the whole ride there and it was like Trent couldn't feel ashamed for anything. He felt powerful, sexy, and very flirty. Trent glanced around, seeing that Mal's place was a certified man den. Leather furniture, shot glasses, video game systems and home workout equipment.

"Nice cave." Trent said.

"Beware the bear." Mal smirked, suddenly charging at Trent. Trent laughed and caught him, the two grappling and wrestling as if they were in high school. Despite Trent's increased strength, Mal slowly wore him down, pinning him, lifting his arm up. Trent grunted as he saw that hairy pit come up to his face. Mal took pleasure in rubbing his pit all over Trent but Trent wasn't that bad off. The human inhaled the musk, rubbing against it. Then he realized how to elicit his freedom. He opened his mouth and licked the sweaty hair. Mal chuckled and released Trent, "Give up?" he chuckled.

"For now maybe." Trent said. Mal grinned, moving into his room, sliding his closet open. Trent followed, still licking his lips before he saw a pile of dirty laundry.

"Got any more jocks?" he joked.

"Why, you wanna rub your face up in one?" Mal joked back. Trent licked his lips a bit.

"Not the weirdest idea I've heard." Trent replied. Mal turned, looking at Trent. Trent couldn't see, but Mal's green skin had gotten more flushed. He reached down to unbutton his pants before he opened the fly, revealing the jock he was wearing. Trent was a bit surprised since he'd just been joking, but now that the opportunity presented itself he couldn't just go back.

As if he was mesmerized, Trent slowly dropped to his knees and leaned forward, moving to rub his face against the exposed jock. Mal growled and grabbed the human's head, holding him in place. Trent moaned, his face smashed against the undergarment. His lips parted and his saliva leaked out, releasing the trapped man musk in the fabric. Trent savored the flavor, a bit amused how close it tasted to the yellow paste on the grub plate. He kept licking and sucking and Mal let out a growing growl. Despite getting a jock job, Mal reached into his closet and pulled out a spiked leather collar and leaned down, putting it on Trent. Trent grunted in surprise as it was put on and tightened, but as he reached up and felt the spikes, he looked up with a grin.

"You're always on task." Trent murmured.

"That's what makes me a good spotter." Mal said, looking down at Trent, doing a bit of a double take. His lips looked thicker and his beard looked thicker. Mal knew his eyes had to be playing a trick on him.

"So you're going to dress me now too, huh?" Trent asked.

"That's the idea." Mal said happily

"Good thing this shirt was already ripped." Trent said, grabbing a hold of it before he tore it apart, revealing his massive pecs, thick shoulders and the forest of hair that covered his torso. Mal moaned deeply before he reached down and pushed his jock out of the way, letting his foot long green cock flop out, staring Trent in the face. Trent looked up, "Alright, but it's my turn next." He said, reaching to grope himself suggestively.

"I'm down with that." Mal grinned. Trent leaned in, slathering his tongue along Mal's meat. He'd been fantasizing about orcs for so long. They were so sexy, so male, it was only natural. Trent licked the sweat from Mal's cock before his lips spread over the tip like a popsicle. Trent teased the slit and then sucked harder, bobbing his head back and forth. Mal grabbed Trent's head with one hand, pulling out leather clothes with the other, tossing them onto the bed, moaning more and more.

Trent grunted and growled, reaching with one hand to squeeze and rub's Mal's balls, the other moving to pleasure himself, feeling his own bulge grow tighter than ever before. Mal kept trying to get clothes but soon he grabbed onto Trent's head with both hands, not wanting to let go. His fingers tangled in Trent's greasy, shaggy hair, getting a good grip, not realizing the hair was growing longer in his hands. As Trent sucked and slurped, more changes were sweeping over him as well. The black hair of his mustache grew out and down, bushy and thick, scraping Mal's cock for extra stimulation. The hair on his cheeks grew bushier and thicker as well before even Trent's throat got hairy, the beard pushing out more.

Mal panted, drooling openly into his beard, holding Trent to him. He'd never expected to feel that way about someone he was training, but he'd never been turned on so much. Soon his powerful hips were thrusting back and forth, fucking Trent's face. Trent moaned, realizing as the cock bashed the back of his throat that he had no gag reflex. He wondered if the grub plate was to thank for that as well. He tilted his head and felt Mal's cock sliding down into his throat, his esophagus massaging it like a fuck sleeve. Mal moaned louder, feeling himself barrel to the edge before he tipped his head back and howled.

Trent felt the howl reverberate through him, but no sooner had Mal started to howl than his shaft began to release its load. Trent gulped at the seed, letting it fill his stomach in thick globs before he pulled back, letting the seed cover his tongue and teeth, leaving the taste between them as he savored it. It was so salty, so rich, so thick.... And so male. Trent couldn't help himself. He leaned back and let Mal spray him in the face and chest, rubbing it all through his beard. Mal screamed in lust as he painted Trent's face with his seed. Trent licked his lips before he plunged his mouth back around the member, though it almost felt like his lower jaw was further along the cock.

As the cum soaked his teeth, his lower canines throbbed gently. Protein, calcium and bone all pooled together as the teeth started to go upwards, thickening at the base. His thicker lips pushed out as the forming tusks emerged and Trent's face was forever changed. The tusks lifted up on either side of Mal's cock, holding it in place... but the changes were taking a deeper root. Trent's nostrils stretched wider, his nose thickening. The cum soaked beard hairs grew outward as if they had been soaked in fertilizer, growing denser, stretching out an inch, then two, then three. No longer did Trent have a short beard, it was getting pretty intense...

Mal wobbled on his feet, light headed before he groaned and fell back onto the pile of laundry. The cock popped out of Trent's mouth and gave him one last splatter before the orgasm subsided. Trent remained on his knees for a moment, his ears tingling as they stretched into points but Trent was none the wiser. He reached up to scrape the cum from his cheeks before licking it off of his fingers before he stood up and strutted over, dropping his pants and jock by his feet before he lowered down onto Mal's chest. Mal grunted as his eyes opened to see the fat cock slapping him on his chin.

"My turn." Trent said possessively. Mal obediently opened his lips and took the shaft in. Trent moved to slide it into that warm maw, feeling wonderful to have it slide between his tusks. Trent worked up his pace and Mal met it, sucking down that rod, slurping harder and harder. His eyes looked up at Trent and he gasped, but Trent didn't stop fucking Mal's face. Mal was so shocked at the changes that he was barely able to move. In a few minutes Trent's beard had grown, his ears were pointed and he had tusks. He was becoming an orc. Mal was scared and turned on and he didn't know what to do, but Trent guided him through it, holding his head as he fucked Mal's face.

Mal closed his eyes, sucking down Trent's cock, feeling it stretch and thicken in his mouth. Mal sucked harder, trying to make it as big as possible. Trent groaned, feeling so good as his cock pushed out to eight inches, ten, twelve, then fourteen. It grew thicker as well, stretching to sizes worthy of an orc. The hair around his groin thickened and that thickness moved up his already dense stomach hair until his skin was almost hidden beneath a layer of black. The two were going at it like wild fire, but eventually Trent hit his peak and he howled out in mad lust, sending his seed into Mal's gut. Mal gulped it down, savoring every drop, hitting another orgasm himself. His cock messily sprayed all over his dirty clothes as he basked in the wonders of Trent's change.

****

Bright lights and heavy techno filled the bar as men danced, strutted, ground and drank. Grog had beaten everyone else there, wearing leather boots, chaps and a vest. The vest was parted across his massive hairy chest, leaving just enough room for a lithe goateed Drow and an extraordinarily hairy orc bear cub to suck his pierced nipples. Grog grinned, holding their hands in place, his hips swaying as he enjoyed the music. He turned his head as the doors opened and he grinned even more seeing that Mal had arrived, but then he saw what he had been hoping to see all along... Trent, partially transformed.

Trent's body had stretched to six foot seven during the act of their love making and his muscles were as big as ever. Trent's beard was half way down to his collar bone and his tusks were thick and yellowed from cum already. Mal was wearing a brown five point leather harness and a leather pair of underwear while Trent had put on a leather vest with a v neck to show off his hairy chest and leather pants with a removable crotch and ass. Grog grinned brightly. Trent took a sniff of the air before he caught a familiar smell and began moving off. Mal tried to keep up with him and the two soon found Grog. Trent looked at the two young men on Grog's chest.

"Nice pets." Trent said.

"They have their uses." Grog grinned, "Want me to make room for you two?" he offered.

"Did you change Trent?" Mal asked at point blank. Grog chuckled.

"No, Trent changed Trent. He changed himself. No magic, no drugs, nothing was necessary. He came into that gym wanting to make himself a different kind of man. A strong one, a healthy one, one not ashamed of anything - And he did it." Grog grinned.

"Most of the way." Trent said, "I look like an albino." He said, gesturing to his human skin. Grog smirked at that.

"You're so close; you just need someone to spot you on your last exercise." Grog said.

"And what is that?" Trent asked, trying to be heard over the music. Grog grinned.

"Just let go, give in fully... Live this party up." Grog smiled. Trent turned, looking at Mal. Mal looked at Trent gently.

"I didn't know this would happen, I'm sorry." Mal said. Trent smirked, reaching up. He ran his fingers through Mal's beard, feeling every curl.

"I wanted to do that for so long." Trent whispered, "This is fine, this is great. I love who I've become. Knowing I did it myself makes it even better, but I've got a job to finish." Trent said, reaching down. He pulled off the snaps of his groin peace and let his foot long cock emerge. Mal's eyes widened.

"What are you doing now?" Mal asked.

"My last exercise." Trent said, grabbing Mal and pulling him out to the dance floor. Eyes fell across the new pair as they moved out. Trent grabbed Mal and pulled him close. Mal gasped, feeling the hard cock against his lap. Trent clung to him and started to bump, grind, hump and dance. Despite his initial surprise, Mal soon melted right into the affection. Their stomachs rubbed, their chests, and their arms. Trent leaned in to tease Mal with a near kiss before pulling back, grazing his cheek, then licking his neck.

As their bodies gyrated and rubbed, Trent's stomach started to darken. At first it looked like he was growing more tan, but soon the color spread around his navel, expanding beneath the forest of hair. His nipples turned from pink to almost brown as they rubbed against Mal's, his pecs becoming a dark forest green. Mal reached down and slowly dropped his underwear so his cock was free to rub against Trent's. Some of the other leather bar patrons were busy taking cell phone picture's of Mal's perfect hairy ass.

Trent and Mal humped and rubbed, their cocks rubbing tightly, their bushes still holding strings of sperm from before. Soft stripes of green covered Trent's meat before they spread out, covering it entirely, spreading to his balls. Trent growled in lust and power, leaning in to kiss Mal. Their lips met, their beards meshed and both men didn't hold back. Their tongues tangled and Trent's lips turned green before the pigment spread out across his cheeks, nose and around his eyes. His ears changed, then his scalp and neck. The green from his chest grew together with that on his throat and his shoulders started to turn.

With the head of an orc, Trent suddenly turned Mal around, his cock springing free in the eyes of the patrons. More cell phone camera flashes went off as Trent slid his cock up and down between Mal's ass cheeks. Mal growled and moaned, grunting in bliss as Trent tilted his hips and gave a good thrust, spearing into his trainer. Trent almost laughed when he realized that he had become every part of the stereotype he'd heard about. As the green pigment spread down his spine and across his ass, he knew that he was being the lewd, rude, public kind of orc he'd heard about... and he loved it. He didn't care about public indecency. He was unashamed and very happy.

Newly green hands latched onto Mal's hips as he fucked him deep in the ass, grinding, striking his prostate over and over again. Mal melted back against Trent before he howled and his cock unleashed yet another load of cum. Trent leaned in to lick and then bite Mal's neck before he howled as well, filling Mal's ass. Across the room, Grog grinned with deep pride. He knew since laying his eyes on Trent that the human would go far, and now there he was, a brand new orc, a self made man.

****

Despite being open twenty four hours, few people visited Jade Gym near sunrise. Trent stood at the doorway to the main room in his leather gear, or what was left of it. He'd completely changed in two short months. Trent pulled out his card, looking at the puny human he had once been. It was hard to believe that one resolution had taken him so far, but then again it wasn't just his own will power. He had fantastic spotters to say the least. He looked across the room at the duruk, then the treadmill, grinning. The door behind him opened and Mal came in, sliding up behind Trent. He wrapped his arms around Trent's waist and rested his bearded chin on the orc's shoulder.

"Being nostalgic, lover?" Mal asked.

"Oh yeah. Just trying to figure out what sort of exercise routine to start on tomorrow. I need a new goal." Trent grinned.

"We'll start on your ass and legs, get them nice and strong." Mal whispered, licking Trent's pointed ear. Trent moaned.

"Will you spot me?" Trent smirked. Mal rolled his eyes.

"I'll always spot you." Mal smirked. Trent grinned and turned, giving Mal a deep kiss. Their lips locked and the two tangled for a long moment before they turned to head back home, though as they moved, the doors parted and a red headed eighteen year old human male stepped in, gasping as he saw the massive orcs in front of him. Mal slowly moved one leg to block Trent's indecency from view. The human, however, was far too busy looking at their faces.

"Um, I didn't know this was taken, I can come back." He said meekly. Trent grinned.

"The gym is open to anyone and everyone who wants to improve themselves, don't worry about anything. Use any equipment you like, but if you are going to push yourself, be sure to use a spotter." Trent said. The human looked a bit reassured.

"Thanks, I'll do that. Maybe I'll start on the treadmill tonight though." He smiled.

"Always a good place to start." Trent said. The human walked past them and moved for the treadmill and Mal smirked, shoving Trent through the doors before the human had a chance to look back. Trent grinned, "What's that for?" he smirked.

"You walked into a gym without pants. You're lucky he's so shy that he didn't even look." Mal smirked.

"Just give him time; I'm sure he'll look." Trent grinned wide.

"Oh, so he's your new exercise routine, is that it?" Mal asked as they moved out to the car. Trent smirked.

"I may spot him, but you're my man jungle gym, you're the only one I want to climb." Trent grinned. Mal chuckled.

"You romantic, you." Mal said, climbing into the driver's seat. Trent settled into the passenger seat, buckling up before the two headed off into the night, driving toward the faint light on the horizon and the coming sunrise.