FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Sweet Revenge

by yoyowhat9

WARNING. WORK OF EXTREME EROTIC FICTION and CONTAINS THE FOLLOWING: transformation, straight to gay, gay to straight, alpha/fag mentality, musk, role reversal, serious rape, humiliation, MM, MF, stealing/taking of character traits, magic, loss of bladder control, penis shrink, penis growth, homophobia, orgy, and bullying. If you are sensitive to these subjects, then obviously don't read.

CHAPTER 1

Shane hated physical ed. But what he hated more was that it was 6th period physical ed. Being that it was the last period of the day, Shane had to share the field with the football team, and for a closeted gay guy in a very redneck town, it was torture. If he wanted to glance at the gorgeous men, he was taking a big risk of getting caught. But if he didn't look, his teenage hormones would consistently remind him of their disappointment.

Still, Shane was utterly fascinated by the football team and their complete manliness and confidence. They were everything Shane wasn't. The jocks were toned and, by the looks of their uniforms (which Shane has gotten a quick mental snapshot here and there), were very much well endowed. Shane, on the other hand, was weak, average looking, and could barely sport a five-inch boner if he was trying his darndest. The jocks were incredibly masculine, cocky, and confident. They were able to, and have, scored with almost any girl at the school. Well, the ones that were worth fucking anyway. These jocks never had to settle. Shane was timid, meek, and cowardly. Just for once, Shan thought, he would love to be in their shoes and be not only accepted by his peers and parents, but also revered and admired a god. But out of all the chiseled, handsome deities that created the football team, nothing came close to the pure manliness and poise of Rick.

You'd think Rick was the quarterback given his status in the school but he was, in fact, the tight end; the player on the other side of the quarterback that catches the throws which Rick thought was a more worthy roll than quarterback. "While the quarterback just stands there with his finger up his ass, I'm actually the one running, catching the plays, gaining yards, and scoring touchdowns." He once boasted to Cindy, a girl he was trying to impress at a weekend pool party. "If it wasn't for me, this team wouldn't be number one in the league." Needless to say, he very much got laid that night.

The only chance Shane had to get close to a situation like that with Rick was only through his fantasies. He would over hear the jocks and their bragging, almost vulgar, stories of getting pussy in the locker room from time to time. Shane would never be invited to a party like that. If he ever did, he would most likely be beaten up in front of all the girls in attendance just for sheer amusement.

While Shane was continuing the story of Rick-at-the-pool-party, the whistle form his P.E. teacher and his shouting shook Shane back into reality. "Shane! Wake your ass up and play some defense." Yeah, he really hated physical ed.

After twenty more minutes of an excruciating soccer game, the P.E. teacher blew his whistle one last time and commanded the class to circle up. Looking down at his clipboard, the students knew he was reviewing his notes on their performance. "Not bad today," he began matter-of-factly, "Shane, because you were the lowest performer today, you get to bring in all the balls and equipment." Laughter and snickering erupted from the other classmates as Shane's face turned pale and red at the same time. He truly felt pathetic when this stuff happened to him. "Alright everyone," the teacher responded only after the giggling had a fair turn, "hit the showers and then you can all go home." The class left ecstatically leaving Shane on the field alone, annoyed, and a spectacle for the football team who no doubt witnessed the entire event on the field next to him.

CHAPTER 2

The locker room was quiet, almost to the point of unsettling. The P.E. class had gone home and the football team was still in practice until 4:30. Shane huffed and puffed so loudly that it almost echoed through the quiet room while he was making his way to his locker; his puny muscles sore form lugging the heavy equipment. While finishing up the sequence to his locker combination, he quickly glanced to the corer of his eye and noticed something out of place. On the other side of the benches that divided the lockers, was the football team's side and on the far right, one of them was opened just enough for Shane to notice it. He stopped dead in his tracks as his swirling cock got the better of him as he paused, dropped his hands to his side, and he started to walk towards the open locker.

Taking a quick glance over his shoulder as he moved, Shane got closer and closer while his heart began to face faster and faster. Although nobody could hear him, he was treading so softly and quietly as if he was afraid to make a peep. Finally, after what seemed like the distance of a marathon, he got close enough for the name on the front of the locker to come into view, the name R. Freemen. Rick Freemen. He almost gasped in disbelief. It was Rick's locker.

Shane's heart began to fill his chest and his throat was almost choked up by the reality of the situation. "Maybe today's bad luck was really a blessing in disguise." he thought to himself. He reached his left hand out to open the locker more but then immediately stopped in his tracks. Once again, he looked to his left, to his right, and just to be on the safe side, he double-checked the corridors that surrounded the lockers. He was completely alone.

His hand continued where it left off and the door opened with ease. Shane looked around to take it all in. Naked pictures of playgirls were taped to the other side of the door. Shane noticed some condoms and Rick's regular clothes for after practice were located on the upper shelf. As Shane continued his gaze down the locker, his heart and cock almost jolted in utter disbelief as he hit the honey pot: Rick's sneakers.

With both of his hands, Shane grabbed one of the sneakers so delicately, as if it were a holy relic. Shane took a moment to just admire the shoe in it's 11-sized glory. He couldn't believe he was this lucky. He couldn't believe this was all actually happening. After the moment of brief awe, Shane brought the shoe up to his face and took the biggest wiff you could imagine.

Shane no longer had words in his head but pure emotions of bliss and sexual fulfillment as the sweet smell of sweat and testosterone flooded his nose. His brain immediately flashed to the picture of Rick, half naked in a jockstrap, sitting on a chair with Shane looking up. "Lick my toes you pathetic faggot." Rick demanded in a deep, almost coarse tone as his feet covered Shane's face vision. Shane moaned and monad as he pictured Rick shoving his huge, smelly, sweaty feet into Shane's nose and mouth. As the fantasy continued to play out, he began to unzip his fly and to unveil his cock and with his free hand, he started to jerk off. Already, gobs of pre were leaking from Shane's 5-inch cock from the combination of the situation, the shoe, and the fantasy that was playing inside his head.

While Shane was giving Rick the foot lick of a life time, Rick was starting to flex his muscles for Shane making him more turned on by the display of pure masculinity. Out of the corner of Rick's mouth, a cocky grin begins to unfold as he sensually states, "Yeah you little faggot. You wish you had these fucking muscles." Rick continued to show off his biceps, his chest, and his abs while Shane could only moan helplessly under his feet and, in some ways, his control.

Rick continued, "Too bad you're just a puny faggot that couldn't lift a five-pound weight if his life depended on it." Rick then hocked a loogy and spat right onto Shane's eyes, which caused him to moan both in the fantasy and in real life. Shane was getting really close to cuming now; he could feel it. After years of holding it all back, this was the closets Shane has ever gotten to experience a sexual encounter time with a man. And in this case a real man.

The fantasy was continuing in Shane's head as he felt the rush of a climax about to take its toll. He started to pump faster and faster until a huge BANG jolted him out of his entire experience. He jumped so much on the bench that the hairs on his neck were tingling from the honest scare he had just received. Before Shane could figure out what had happened, he heard the booming sound of a familiar voice, "I fucking knew it!" Shane turned around spastically to locate the origin of the voice and to his bitter defeat, on the other end of the lockers only in his jockstrap much like the fantasy that was playing in Shane's head, it was the one and only, Rick Freeman.

CHAPTER 3

Shane's brain started to shout and yell "For god's sake think of something! Get yourself out of this mess!" but all he could muster was a soft, quiet excuse of a sound. Meanwhile, Rick started to make his way towards Shane which made Shane very nervous. With every closer inch, Shane was becoming more and more terrified of the situation.

"I fucking knew you were a little cock-loving faggot." Rick said as he continued to make his way towards Shane. Again, Shane was trying to say anything and this time. Anything that could get him out of the situation or to clam Rick's fierce emotions but was only able to spit out, "uh...I..." Shane was shaken again as Rick's boisterous voice which interrupted his pathetic rebuttal. "Tell me faggot, how long was your sad, little cock waiting to get just the opportunity to do that?" Closer, and closer he approached as Shane's brain was now starting to wail "Get out of there! Drop the shoe and get the fuck out of there!" but all Shane could do was cower and freeze in total fear.

When Rick finally got to reaching distance, he did just that and reached right for Shane's neck. The surprise attack and firm grip caught Shane completely off guard has he felt almost limp to Rick's touch. Rick then forcefully yanked Shane off of the bench and violently pushed him onto the lockers with a loud THUNK that echoed through the entire locker room. Shane's eyes rolled back slightly from the lack of oxygen and the hard concussion Rick now just applied to the back of his head.

"So, you wanna know what a ran man smells like huh?" Rick teased as he started to undress his jockstrap with his other hand. Once it came off, he crumpled it into a ball and shoved it into Shane's mouth as Rick quickly covered it again with the same hand that put it in there in the first place. Shane almost gagged both from the size of the jock and the bitter taste of sweat and urine.

Behind Shane's head, Rick then grabbed his black leather belt from his locker and proceeded to tightly wrap it around Shane's mouth, making it serve as a place holder for the jock strap without the aid of Rick's arms. At this time, Shane was finally coming back into his senses, which by this time, became total fear and honest concern for the safety of his life. When his eyes began to focus more, he could see Rick lean in, just centimeters away from his face as he whispered "Well then cunt, let's give you the ride of your life then." Rick then violently turned Shane's body 180 degrees to where his chest and stomach were now facing the lockers and his ass exposed in front of Rick.

Shane, trying to put two and two together started to scream which, although muffled by the jockstrap and belt, was still a worthy effort for a cry of help. But he immediately stopped when Rick squeezed his neck even harder and gave his head another BANG on the locker rooms "Uh, uh. I wouldn't recommend that faggot. If the coach or the team hears you, trust me, you're gonna be in more trouble then you already are in." Shane knew what he meant. He meant that if more jocks found out his secret, he would become the team's little play-thing and although this was a fantasy of his for ages, that's where he wanted to keep it. He didn't really want the school to know his secret. He wanted to continue high school with dignity and peace. His thinking then became distracted as he heard Rick hock a loogy but this time, it was not a fantasy and not onto his eyes, but in reality on onto Rick's growing, thick 10-inch cock. Tears started to roll down Shane's eyes as his acknowledgement of defeat and Rick's actions became apparent: Shane was about to be raped and there was no way out of it.

Rick, who noticed the tears, only took it as an opportunity to mock his new little fuck-thing. "Daww. Does wittle faggot wish his mommy were here? Pwabably not because even she doesn't love his worthless faggot life." He then erupted into laughter as he started to push his cock into Shane's tight virgin hole and Shane's eyes continued to water.

Shane was no longer having fun. In fact, once the real Rick came into the picture, the fun was immediately gone. Shane was now scared for his life, in immense pain, and couldn't get over the shame and humiliation of his helpless self. Rick continued to shove his cock in and out slow at first but then more forcefully as his own testosterone started to take effect. After about fifteen minutes of the same, agonizing experience, Rick moaned as he came gobs of alpha cum into Rick's hole. He began to slowly take his cock out at which time Shane just moaned as the pain continued through his pulsating rectum. Rick quickly slapped Shane on the cheek in response "oh, shut the fuck up you fucking queer baby, you know you liked it." As soon as Rick was completely out of Shane, he unlocked his grip on Shane's neck and Shane immediately fell to the floor in pure exhaustion.

Rick grabbed his clothes from his locker and closed it with a loud BANG, as if to remind Shane of why he was down there in the first place; for snooping around where his little cunt-self shouldn't be. Rick knelt down and almost instinctively, Shane's entire body twitched in fear as to what would come next but Rick just unraveled the belt and stood back up. "Keep the jockstrap as a present, faggot. That way when your puny cock gets hard again, you'll remember a real fucking man." With that, the same cocky grin that was once a turn-on in Shane's fantasies now emerged on the real Rick as he left the locker room leaving Shane once again, completely alone to pick up the pieces of this emotionally scaring experience.

Shane was now completely defeated and traumatized on the floor, shaking and shivering as his head was trying to figure out what to do next. Finally, his brain woke back up and said, "You need to leave now, before the other jocks come and see you." Slowly coming to this realization, Shane got back to his feet and took the jockstrap out of his mouth. He then rushed back to his own locker and gathered his things. Not even taking the time to change, he shoved his regular clothes into his backpack and kept on his P.E. uniform. The jockstrap stayed inside Shane's hand the entire time and he then started to debate with himself on what to do with it. "If I leave it here," he thought, "there's a chance the other jocks will find it and catch on." But he didn't want to keep it. That was the last thing he wanted. This jock strap was a sour reminder of his terrible experience. But after some thinking, he finally concluded that a reminder of the experience was better then a repeat of that experience and he finally decided to take the jock strap with him. Putting his backpack over his shoulders, he proceeded to leave the locker room as quickly as he can, his body still shaking nervously form the experience.

CHAPTER 4

While waiting for the bus, Shane's mind was racing with a thousand things all at once. On one hand, he was trying to just get a hold of himself and stop shaking. On the other, Shane was trying to fight Rick's words of inferiority that stung just as much as the pain in his behind. Shane took all of the strength in his being and was finally able to clam down, at least enough to become an active member of society. And as if on cue, the bus turned the corner and stopped.

Shane entered the city bus and quickly headed for the back where he could be alone and isolated from any wandering eyes. As he sat down, he let out a slight groan in pain as his ass still had not yet healed from recent painful experience. In an effort to make himself even more invisible, Shane took out a text book and covered his face, pretending to read as the bus continued on its route.

After a stoplight or two, Shane was able to calm down even more and for the most part, was back to his normal self. He figured that once he got home, he can further digest what just happened and what he can do about it. While his head swirled around thinking about how good home sounded, a crackling voice came from his side. "Tell me boy, what are you reading?"

Shane looked up from his book to find an old lady sitting in the seat in front of him. Her eyes were gentle and non-threatening as they both sat there in the back of the bus completely alone. Shane then responded with an "Uh..." as he flipped the book over to see the cover as he actually had no idea what he was 'reading.' "Great Expectations." he told the curious passenger. "Ah, that's a good one." She smiled in response and shifted her weight as she continued, "That Miss Havisham sure has a lot of anger and spite. But why wouldn't she? She experienced the worst kind of betrayal and shame one can ever experience." Shane was still in disbelief. He felt that this mysterious old women was talking directly to him. As if she was reading his mind and understanding precisely what he was going through. The feeling of empathy immediately lifted Shane's spirits as well as his curiosity towards the women.

She continued, "But boy, her revenge sure is sweet. Sure, she wasn't able to hurt the one that truly hurt her, but she was able to deliver that same kind of pain towards someone else, and in this way, received pure satisfaction." Shane was now transfixed on this women's keen analysis of the book in addition to the parallel into his life. She once again continued, "But you know what would make for an even better story?" She paused as if to keep Shane dangling in mid-air, listening intently to her words, "If Miss Havisham was able to not only continue her life and not drown in her self-pity, but if she was able to hurt the man that hurt her so. If not more so!" Then, as if she were some sort of magician, she reached into her inner coat pocket and brought out tiny book. It was a small, hardcover book whose blue cover faded over many years of use. The pages likewise had that yellow tinge of age and mystery old books have. With a kind smile, the old lady said while staring directly into Shane's eyes, "Some stories, have much better endings." And with an effortless glide, she offered the book to Shane. Completely taken by the experience, Shane gently takes the book from the women and looks down at the stranger's gift. After a quick glance at the book, Shane thought to himself, "there's no title on this book..." Cutting his thinking, the hydraulic hiss from the bus engaged as the bus stopped. "This is your stop dear." The women replies and Shane looks up and starts to leave. Without knowing why, he stops and turns to her before he exits and earnestly says "Thank you." He then continues to leave the bus and heads back home.

CHAPTER 5

Finally home and finally alone, Shane lets out a huge sigh of relief as he plops down onto his bead, coving his body with a sheet. After moments of just regaining consciousness and comfort from the cocoon he made for himself, he sits up and grabs the book that the old lady gave him. He opens the cover to the first page titled, JUSTICE and continues to read:

JUSTICE

Thanks to the power of three times three,

_ Our deeds always reverse back to thee_

_ _

_ And because everything always unfolds as it should_

_ All thoughts and actions should be of the highest good_

_ _

_ But when one's intentions are disgraceful and unwise_

_ Such deeds are sure to become that person's demise_

_ Simply place an item belonging to the one that has scorned_

_ And by the power of magik, they shall be reborn_

_ _

_ For when the power of this book takes hold,_

_ One will observe,_

_ That the fool,_

_ Only receiveth that which they deserve_

_ _

Shane then flipped to the next page, which simply had the phrase: Place item here... And that was it; all other pages were completely blank. Remembering the jockstrap, Shane reaches into his backpack and takes it out. The sight of the used strap only brought to Shane thoughts of humiliation and pain which, thanks with the help of his new gift, have transmuted into anger and want for revenge. Forcefully and without hesitation, Shane puts the jockstrap into the book and closes it as best as he can. To his amazement, the book begins to glow and warm up in his hands. Shane's eyes open wide as he continues to stare into the mysterious illuminating book. Then, out of nowhere, a bolt of energy hits Shane and he plops back into the bed unconscious. He then proceeded to have the most restful and most calming sleep of his entire life.

* * *

Shane woke up to the serene sounds of birds chirping. The sunlight gently pierced the room and soaked Shane's body in a warm, welcoming light. Drowsily, Shane stretched his arms and sat up on his bed. To his astonishment, the pain in his rectum was now completely gone. Strangely and unexplainably, he felt rejuvenated, refreshed, and at peace. After a quick scan of the room as his eyes lazily woke up, Shane looked down onto the floor, and saw the book laying there with the jockstrap still inside. Shane reached down to grab the book and once again, opened it to the first page. This time, the page was titled INSTRUCTIONS...

_ _

_ INSTRUCTIONS_

_ The one who has hurt you is evil indeed_

_ But rest assured, _

_ His true self shall be freed_

_ _

_ Before the magik can start to attack_

_ You must first take this item and return it back_

_ _

_ There is no need for fear_

_ There is no need to hide_

_ For divine protection_

Is now on your side

_ _

After a slight pause, Shane took the jockstrap into one hand, placed it back into his backpack, and headed for school.

_ _

_ _

_ _

_ _

CHAPTER 6

It was getting close to the start of school and Shane was heading towards Rick's locker to return the jockstrap. Rick was putting away some things and taking out the book he needed for his first period. From the corner of his eye he saw Shane approach him and he couldn't help but smile that cocky smile of his. "Well, well faggot. You've come to me for seconds?" He teased. Normally, Shane would just run away and cower from a statement like that but, almost on autopilot, the he confidently sputtered the following words from his mouth: "Listen Rick, I don't need your fucking jockstrap or any of your shit. You'll regret that you ever messed with me!" And with all of his might, he threw the jockstrap straight into Rick's face. Rick was fuming and turned red with so much anger and just as he was about to punch Shane square in the face, all of that quickly subsided, and all that came out of his mouth was a faint, "OK."

Both Shane and Rick were very surprised at what just happened. They both acted completely out of their element and it left both of them stunned. After a few moments of awkward silence, the ring for the first period bell went off which shook them out of their stupor. Shane, still on autopilot, just turned around and left. While he was leaving, both of them thought to themselves, "Did that just fucking happen?" Shane couldn't believe he stood up to Rick that way and how Rick just took it. Likewise Rick couldn't believe that he reacted that way towards Shane. Normally, he would have socked him straight in the head over something like that; instead he just took it like a bitch. Rick's ego was definitely a little inflated after that incident and he tried to shake it off as he put the jockstrap into his locker and grabbed what he needed for first period.

* * *

The rest of the school day seemed like an eternity to Rick but flew by for Shane. Rick couldn't concentrate at all in his classes. The incident that occurred this morning kept repeating over and over again in his head like some nightmare. He really couldn't get over the fact that he was so easily defeated, especially by some fag's words.

On the other hand, Shane felt like a million dollars. He felt a new wave of confidence over him the entire day and he noticed that he even walked taller with better posture and with a bigger smile on his face. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but his demeanor and personality was a lot stronger; more self-assured. Unknown to Shane, Rick actually tried his hardest to avoid Shane the rest of the day. That is, until 6th period.

CHAPTER 7

All of the jocks were getting ready for practice on one side of the locker room and Shane's P.E. class was getting ready on the other. As Shane was getting ready, he overheard the quarterback, Jarrod, chatting with Rick as they were both undressing.

"Hey bro. Today's our last scrimmage before homecoming game tomorrow night. You better catch my passes." Rick quickly responded, "More like you better fucking throw straight so I can gain some yards." Jarrod just hissed at the comeback as Rick opened up his locker as he let out a loud "Fuck!" Jarrod looked over from his locker and asked, "What is it bro?" Rick responded, "My jockstraps. I don't...have anymore." Rick started to trail off at the end of his statement while Shane's eyes grew wide as the conversation that was unfolding.

Rick continued, "I don't understand. I had a pack of three in here and now they're all gone." Jarrod slyly responded, "It's OK I'll let you borrow one of mine faggot. Haha!" Jarrod was, of course, kidding around, but when Rick heard him say the word faggot, he got really weak. There was something about that word faggot now that had a different meaning to him. He couldn't put his finger on it and normally, he would rebuttal in with some homophobic slander but he just gently said, "No bro, it's fine. I got an extra one in my other locker." Again, Shane's eyes grew even bigger now; he knew which jockstrap he was referring to. Jarrod, still in the conversation with Rick, responded, "Well bro you better fucking run and get it. Coach is gonna be pissed if you're late to practice." With that, Rick ran out to grab the jockstrap and Shane closed his locker and headed outside for his P.E. class eager to see how everything was going to unfold.

* * *

Rick was running late for practice. He came sprinting down to the field as he heard his coach yell, "Rick, move your ass!" He finally made it over panting and heaving. "Sorry coach...I..." He tried to continue as he was taking in deep breaths "I didn't-" His coach rudely interrupted him, "I don't care for your excuses! Now go and give me three laps!" He blew the whistle straight into Rick's face and the rest of the team chuckled at Rick's misfortune. Normally, Rick would yell out a "Fuck you!" or some other retort to his fellow teammates but he just took it and started to run.

Rick felt strange while the rest of the team was laughing at him. In a way, he kind of liked that attention. While he was running around the other field, him and Shane locked eyes. From their intense gaze, they both knew what the other one was thinking. Shane was utterly enjoying the experience and couldn't help but smile at Rick. Shane then went one step further and mockingly waved his hand just to confirm to Rick that he was watching him and he knew exactly what was happening to him.

Rick, on the other hand, was actually starting to get scared of Shane. Rick didn't know what was wrong with him that day. He was so out of his element and he knew it all had to do, somehow, with Shane. The whistle form Shane's P.E. teacher broke the gaze as his class huddled up on the other field. "Alright class," he started, "Today we're gonna scrimmage some football." As he started to give out positions and when it got to Shane's name, he looked up in surprised as the teacher said, "Shane, you got tight end." The entire class looked surprised and almost all at once, looked over towards Shane. Normally, Shane would shrug away from all of the attention he just got but now, he kind of reveled in it. He let out a huge smile and with a loud confident, "You got it coach," stood up to take his position.

Shane was doing amazingly to everyone's surprise; including his own. He was catching most of the passes, running tons of yards, and even scored two touchdowns. The more awesome he did, the more approval he got from his peers. Even the coach smiled in approval as he took notes on his clipboard as usual. With every successful play, every outstanding pass, Shane's confidence and admiration grew and grew. Rick, on the other hand, was having a very off day at his scrimmage.

He kept getting tackled, kept messing up plays, and was just overall one hot mess. His coach and other players kept teasing and scorning him with his weak performance. They would say things like, "Stop having butterfingers and catch the ball you fucking queer!" and "Damn Rick, you're running like a fucking bitch today." Rick, was embarrassed but also aroused by the taunting and instead of it encouraging him to do better, it made him want to subconsciously do worse so the taunts would continue. Rick's performance sure didn't spur much confidence for tomorrow's game and Rick knew that everyone was starting to blame him for their weak performance.

After about thirty minutes of the same goings on, the P.E. teacher blew his whistle and the class huddled up. He looked down as his clipboard like he always did and started to give his comments. "Shane, amazing performance today! I'm really surprised with your improvements in this class." To Shane's excitement and surprise, the entire class responded with applause and pats on the back. Shane was on cloud nine as he stood there with pride with all of the approval.

On the other field, the loud roar of applause stopped Rick dead in his tracks and he looked over to see Shane getting all of this attention. Trying to understand what was happening, he thought to himself, "What the fuck is going on?!" His thinking was quickly interrupted with his coach and fellow jocks yelling at him to get his head into the game.

The scrimmage was finally over and as the jocks were all filing into the locker room, the teasing and taunting towards Rick was relentless. They were all really disappointed and angry at his shitty performance. Homecoming was the game with their biggest rivals and if they lost because of him, Rick knew he would be very much the low man on the totem poll. While he was trying to change, some of the jocks shoved him or punched him in the shoulder making remarks like "You better not play like that tomorrow you little pansy." And "Way to go faggot! Hopefully tomorrow you'll play football like a fucking man." Rick has never been treated like this in his life. Usually, he was the one to tease other players. He would be the one what everyone admired. All of the taunting and teasing really got to him and he experienced something that he never thought he would in a million years: tears.

Rick started to cry a little and although he was doing so quietly, it was still loud enough for the rest of the team to notice. "Aww, wittle baby can't take da heat?" Said Jarrod, his 'friend', which caused the entire team to bust up in laughter. Rick, embarrassed and humiliated grabbed his shorts, quickly put them on, and ran out not taking a shower or anything; leaving the jockstrap on while he left. Shane, who stayed back after class, hidden in the shadows, saw the entire thing.

CHAPTER 8

The alarms in both Rick and Shane's room went off at 7:30AM the next morning. Groggily and slowly, they both start to get up from their beds and stretch as they begin the start of their day. The first thing they do is head for the bathroom to relive themselves of the first piss of the day. They both unravel their cocks and prepare for the release of urine simultaneously and in their respective corners of their houses in their respective corners of the city, they let out a loud, shocked, and frightened scream.

Shane, looking down at his cock, could already tell that it had grown in size just by the added weight that now laid in his hand. What was once a semi-impressive 6 inch cock overnight grew into a nicely thick and limp 4 inch cock. The cock would grow into an 8 inch cock nicely if Shane didn't have to pee so bad. Likewise his arms and biceps were more defined and in-shape. As he continued to scan his body, he noticed defined abs, strong legs, rounded ass, and a more chiseled out bone structure in the face. His once shaggy, uncontrolled hair nicely fit into a matching buzz cut.

When he finished getting ready, very much happy from the recent improvements, he met his parents in the dining room eating breakfast. "Good morning, hun." His mother said with a smile on her face. His mother never treated him that way. As he sat down, his father looked down from his newspaper and gave Shane a nice strong pat on the back with a face of approval. Was he in an alternate universe or something? After he ate his breakfast, he headed towards the door feeling amazing from head to toe. The looks, the approval, the surge of confidence, it was mixing in well with his new life as he joyfully headed towards school.

Rick, on the other hand, was waking up into a complete nightmare. His cock, his pride and joy, had shrunk down to a mere 5 inch cock with tinier balls. Likewise, his body took on more of a twink figure with less defined muscles. He kept examining himself in disbelief and once he finished peeing, he made his way to the mirror to further investigate his situation. His face wasn't as rigid and was more pale, round looking. His hair grew as well from a buzz cut to a more awkward length; definitely the longest out of anyone on the football team. He quickly left his bathroom back into his room to get ready for school. Strangely enough, the first item he put on wasn't a new pair of underwear but the jockstrap from yesterday; the same jockstrap that Shane threw back at his face the other day. After putting on some clothes, he headed into the kitchen for breakfast.

His mother was waiting in there next to the stove. Rick smiled and asked, "Hey mom, what's for breakfast?" She just ignored him and went back to cooking. Coldly she replied, "This isn't for you, this is for your father." Rick, not sure how to respond slowly asked, "Well, do you think you can make me something before school?" She kind of laughed at the ridiculousness of the question and replied "If you want something to eat, There's cereal in the cupboard."

In his entire life, his mother had never refused to make him breakfast. Something was really off. She would cook him anything in a heartbeat, this new change in attitude was not normal and very off-putting for him. He crept over to the cupboard as if not trying to disturb his mother anymore and went into the fridge for some milk. "Uh, mom, we're out of milk." Sharply and coldly, she replied, "Well, I guess that's just your problem now isn't it?" Rick's mouth almost dropped from the response. He couldn't believe this was happening.

Then, at the entrance of the kitchen, he heard his dad shout at him, "What's this faggot doing in my kitchen!?" The boom of his father's voice made Rick jump. His father never called him a faggot. In fact, he would brag to his father how many faggots he would beat up on certain days. They were best friends, good buds. But now, his father just called him a faggot and now he had to confront him to get out of the kitchen and out of this embarrassing situation.

Slowly, Rick closed the door to the refrigerator and faced his dad, his dad's arms crossed over his chest, standing firm and tall, as if her was towering over Rick. His dad continued, "Your coach called me and told me what a fag job you did yesterday at practice. You'd better not fuck up this game tonight and bring shame to me you fucking queer. Only real men bear the last name of Freemen ya got that?!" His voice crescendoed into a shout towards the end of his question and all Rick could do is lower his head and lightly utter, "Yes Sir." His father, unemotional and quick on his toes, replied "Then get out of my fucking house and go straight to school." Rick, as quickly has and quietly as he could, left the kitchen passed his father, not looking at all into his eyes, passed the front door, and headed to school.

On Rick's way to school, his head was feeling as if it was about to explode. He was in such a conflict of reality. One moment, he was this alpha-dog, head of everything, the super star, then, in the blink of an eye, his body is gone, his god-like status, gone, and in replace is everything he once repudiated: weak-minded bodies and individuals, low self-esteem, below average bodies, and...and...a beta mentality. For the first time in his life, he truly felt like a piece of shit; lower then dirt, unwanted, unloved, and, worse of all, weak. And he still had the big game today to deal with. He drudged on to school with his head down low, and his eyes red from faint tears.

Shane came to school and was welcomed like he was on a catwalk. Everyone paused, stared, and admired. But Shane was used to this; he wasn't in shock. No, to him, this felt like every day. He had the body and looks of an all-American guy in an all-American town; why wouldn't he get this special treatment? Shane was feeling like an alpha and like a stud as he continued to walk to his locker as if the sun were still on his face. When he approached the locker and started to insert the combination, Paige, the head of the cheerleading team, approached him.

"Hey hun." She said coolly, wearing her cheerleading uniform in support of the game that night. As if on autopilot, Shane cocked his head back slightly, "Sup?", he replied.

"You want a blow job before first period?" Paige was not one to fuck around. To her, the less they talked, the more time she got to suck on his amazing cock.

"But...Aren't you Rick's boyfriend?" asked Shane.

"Rick? Rick who?"

"Rick Freemen"

"You mean Rick FAGmen? Ew, why would you think that I would go out with him?"

She got closer, very close and grabbed his neck slightly massaging the back of it.

"All I want is you baby" She whispered two inches in front of his mouth.

Shane takes her arm and leaded her into the stalls in the men's bathroom. If he was going to get a BJ, it might as well be there so he can get some high-fives from the other jocks along the way.

* * *

Rick did not receive that same kind of welcome. In fact, he didn't receive any kind of acknowledgement, except when he opened his locker and saw a dirty jockstrap with a note on it.

Don't fuck up tonight faggot. Or you'll regret it.

_ -The Team_

_ _

When Rick put down the letter, his eyes realigned onto the dirty jockstrap. He felt his tinier cock get hard in his pants and, all of the sudden, he couldn't focus on anything but the jockstrap. As quickly as he could, he shoved the jock strap down his pants, closed his locker, and headed towards the boy's locker room as quickly as he could.

Once he got to the stalls, he took the one in the corner and locked the door. As he was starting to undo his pants, he heard some man moaning a couple of stalls down. Not really knowing what it was, Rick could at least tell that it was some guy getting a blowjob or jacking off. Either way, it was someone more masculine sounding than Rick was when he was doing anything sexual.

The sounds of the moans along with the jockstrap in his hand made Rick's cock leak a little with pre reminding him of his purpose there. He took the cock by one hand (which wasn't hard) and the jockstrap up to his nose in the other taking big whiffs of the musky, sweaty scent. While taking in the wonderful smells, and hearing the moaning of some jock down the stalls, he imagined himself being used by the same jock. He pictured body on the benches in the locker rooms completely being penetrated by the same jock that owned the jockstrap. Rick found himself close to cuming when the door to his bathroom stall violently opened up. "Freemen! What the fuck are you doing in here?!" It was the coach, making his rounds before first period.

The coach grabbed Rick by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the middle of the bathroom floor. Over hearing the commotion, Shane and Pagie look out of the corner of the their bathroom door and observe. The coach lifts Rick off of the floor and continues his rant, "how you got onto the team is still a fucking mystery to me FAGmen." "Fagmen!?" Rick thought, "I've never been called that? Was that what people really called me?" Rick never had to worry about a bully nick-name and couldn't believe that there actually was one for his name. Then, that's when it all kicked in. The reality of the situation, that is. What was he doing there? Why was he jacking off to this jockstrap? Why was his cock so tiny? His train of thought was then interrupted when the coach continued to throw him out of the bathroom "Get your ass to first period!" and Rick ran out as fast as he could jockstrap and unbutton pants getting carried behind. Shane and Pagie just laughed a little as Shane pushed her down to finish.

CHAPTER 9

The rest of the day was more of the same for both. Rick was happy it was over and Shane just lost track of time. But now, ten minutes before game time, Rick was starting to feel the pressure. His uniform didn't fit him as it used to; baggier and more room around the waistline. All of the other jocks avoided him like the plague as they were getting ready. Usually Rick would be flooded with pats on the back, wishes of good luck, and all around support from the other jocks. But now, Rick could tell just by the looks on their faces, that they wanted nothing to do with him.

The coach blew his whistle in the locker room and called everyone in for a huddle. "Alright. Listen up. This may not be the biggest game of the season, but it's definitely the most important. The Mount Drake Lions are our biggest rival and this game usually determines how we do the rest of the year. Now get out there, score some fucking points, and don't give them one fucking yard!" At the climax of this short, yet rousing speech, in one big unison, as if trained to do so, the entire team yells out, "Yes Coach!!" Rick started to shake. A lot was riding on this game, and lot was riding on his performance.

The first quarter was abysmal. Either Rick got instantly tackled as he was setting up to catch the ball or he couldn't catch the ball to save his life. Rick couldn't explain it but what once came so naturally to him now became such a challenge; he felt like a kindergartener trying to attempt calculus. The coach, other jocks, and the entire school in the audience were not impressed. After the fifth missed play, cheers of support and encouragement turned into boos and low rumbles of disappointment and disdain for their once-upon-a-time-all-star athlete.

The first quarter ended with the opposing team scoring 14 points and Rick's team at a terrible and embarrassing zero. As the offence switched to defense, the jocks were harassing Rick along the way. Blurting out loud slanders and knocking him over with their shoulders. The coach pulled Rick to the side. Using his strength, he pulled onto Rick's uniform causing him to almost lose his balance as he was yanked to one secluded side of the field. "Listen faggot. If ya played the game just as good as ya smelled jocks, you might not be doing such a shitty job out there! You have one more quarter to make it up or else there will be hell to pay."

Unlike the other day, when Rick was more indecisive on how to feel about the insults, today, he was liking them more and more. He appreciated the way the true alpha men were treated him. He was starting to accept that he was a piece of shit and deserved to be teased, pushed, and bullied. In a weird way, it didn't encourage him to do better but to do worse.

And he did. Much worse. The second quarter was even more of a shit show then the first and by the end of halftime, Rick's team still had 0 and the opposing team now had 27. The crowd was steaming with hatred towards Rick. Everyone knew that it was all his fault that the team was doing so well. Again, as the team was leaving the field to the sidelines, the quarterback, who was once Rick's best friend shouted "Instead of putting you on catching ball duty, we should put you on sucking ball duty 'cause that's the only fucking thing you're good for fag!" And with that, he shoved Rick so hard it caused him to fall backwards onto his ass in front of the entire crowd who saw it all. Then, out of the immense quiet the incident caused, the crowd then busted up into laughter.

Everyone now knew how much of a piece of shit Rick was. He was pathetic, un-athletic, and now hated by everyone. While Rick was trying to get to his feet, he was met by a wave of embarrassment and a chant from the crowed. A chant that sent terrible shivers down his spine, "Fagmen! Fagmen! Fagmen!" Closely, Rick looked into the audience and saw his father and mother. Both completely disgusted with their faces saying "I completely disown you." The rest of the jocks started to taunt and chant along with the crowd which was even scarier for Rick because they were much closer. Rick was getting so scared and nervous for his life that all of the sudden, he felt something warm trickle down his pants. He became so scared and petrified that out of his little 5 inch cock, he started to piss in front of everyone and a nice yellow stain started to appear in his uniform pants, outlining his tiny cock for the world to witness. This only encouraged the crowed who responded with laughter and pointing and Rick could only be stuck there in front of it all, trying to hold back the tears that were becoming harder and harder to hold back. After gathering his thoughts, Rick was trying to figure out what to do next and in an instant, he started to run back towards the locker room; soaked pants and all. The taunting, booing, and shouting did not cease as the jocks followed him into the locker room for half time like a heard of lions racing up to attach their prey.

CHAPTER 10

And the hunt was definitely on in the locker room. The jocks were tearing up the place trying to find Rick who now seemed like he was hiding; and he was. In the same bathroom stall that coach found him this morning, he was now hiding in that corner trying to calm his breathing and panting over the loud bangs and furious anger coming form the jocks. They were losing hard, and they wanted the man, or rather the fag, responsible. After a couple minutes of searching the coach blew his whistle. "Alright men gather up, we don't have much time before third quarter and we can't waste it looking for that worthless piece of shit." Rick could hear everything, his heart just being torn up from the terrible words being used to describe him.

The coach continued, "As you probably have guessed, Fagmen is now definitely off of the team. Now, obviously, we're not losing much but we are about to gain much more and we're gonna win this fucking thing." This aroused the jocks a little bit, and they were getting excited as to what the coach meant. "Now, this is slightly unorthodox, but I've been talking to the other P.E. teachers if they knew anyone who could come in as a quick replacement for tight end and one coach recommended this person after seeing him play on the field yesterday. I have to admit that I did see him play some during our scrimmage and I must tell you gentlemen, there may be hope yet. Everyone, meet your newest member to our team: Shane Pleasant." Rick's eyes grew big when he heard Shane's name. Shane!?

He couldn't believe that he was being replaced by Shane! But then again, he did understand. He was starting to understand his place and his inferiority. Of course Shane would make it to the team. He's buff, confident, focused, and all the chicks love him. The jocks were starting to chant Shane's name as he appeared from the corner of the lockers to the coach's side. He was already suited up in his uniform, his bulging biceps and cock making definitive strains and outlines onto the fabric. Shane felt completely at home and basked in the approval of the other jocks. They all looked to him as their savior of the game as he stood there as player number 8; Rick's old number. "Alright boys, lets get out there and kick some ass!" Shane responded in such a commanding tone. The rest of the jocks cheered in approval and followed him out to start the third quarter. Rick just stayed in the bathroom stall, still quivering from the trauma of the situation that he had just experienced.

* * *

The last half of the game was a complete 180 from the first half. Shane was catching passes, gaining yards, and scoring touchdowns. But the end of the third quarter, they were tied up with the rival team. By the end of the fourth, they were ahead by two touchdowns and won the game. Shane was welcomed with huge cheers from those in the bleachers. He literally saved the game and everyone knew it was because of him. He just stood there in the middle of the field taking it all in. It was as though everyone was mesmerized by him and transfixed by his abilities and good looks. The other jocks were surrounding him, patting him on the back and giving words of approval and, admittingly, feelings of their own unworthiness. It could be safe to say that Shane was now the top guy out of the entire school and he loved it.

* * *

As the jocks filed back into the locker room, Rick woke up still in the bathroom stall. He didn't really know why he didn't take the opportunity to just get out and leave. The idea, in fact, never really crossed his mind. Even though he was no longer on the team, he knew unconsciously that he still had to be there; as though he still had a purpose.

Jarrod, the quarterback and Rick's once best friend, shook Shane in his football gear with all of his excitement. "Bro! That was a fucking phenomenal game that you played man." Shane responded naturally and manly, "Heh. Yeah bro, you know when I play, I only bring the best." Jarrod laughed and replied, "It's going to be fucking sweet getting pussy tonight, we will get our pick of the litter after a game like that. All the bitches will be lining up for our cocks, bro." Shane cockily responded, "You can start with Paige, she's easy and gives awesome head brah. Trust me, I know." They both bro fist and start to undo their uniforms. As they are getting out of their football gear, the start to hear a commotion and some banging coming from the bathroom stalls and the both head over there to see what is going on.

They see about six of the other jocks half-naked and forming a tight circle around something (or someone) shouting and taunting. Finally, Jarrod and Shane are able to force their way into the circle to find Rick on the floor in a fetal position, cowering from the taunts of the jocks. Jarrod, taking the opportunity to show his superiority to his fellow jocks, pulls Jarrod by his hair. "Get the fuck up fag!," and slams his head violently on of the metallic bathroom stall doors. This sound only reminded Shane of the same experience when Rick was once where he was. In that instant, Shane was reminded of the terror Rick put him through and his rage was now revisited and ready for revenge.

CHAPTER 11

Rick was standing up by the roots of his hair. Jarrod had such a hard grip on him that he wasn't going anywhere. "So, FAGmen. You almost cost us the game. What makes you think you're even worth staying around for the afterglow of our victory?" Shane, in his new manly persona, helps to egg him on, "Maybe he was just waiting for all of the dirty jocks to sniff!" The other jocks forming the circle let out a loud, booming laughter. Jarrod, now feeding off of the cues from Shane, starts to take of his jockstrap with his other hand. "Well maybe you'll enjoy this one you little cunt!" He then proceeded to shove his jockstrap into Rick's mouth "Freshly sweaty and smelly for ya." Rick's eyes started to move into the back of his head. Not from being held by his hair but from the stench of Jarrod's jockstrap. Rick's mentality was starting to change and he truly felt that in a pardoxal way, this was an honor. The jocks were right, he would never be able to be a man like them, and this soiled jockstrap is just one way for him to experience, even a little, what it means to be an alpha. The eyes weren't rolling back in pain; they were rolling back in pleasure.

Shane, picking up on this subtly cue, continues where Jarrod left off, "Maybe Jarrod. Or perhaps he's just here to reward us. Prepare our cocks for the pussies we're gonna have tonight!" The jocks all cheered, their testosterone from the game mixed with the knowing of the after parties was getting them all riled up and crazy. Wanting to scare Rick a little bit, Shane came in close and said almost at a near, yet audible whisper, "when we're doing fucking your little cunt ass, our cocks will be ready for the real pussies that deserve it." Jarrod along with another jock now, turn Rick around and hold him down each holding one arm. Shane continues to undress and prepares his now 10-inch cock to rape Shane's tight virgin hole.

Shane starts to spit into his hand and then onto his cock while the other jocks hoot and holler and encourage him on. Rick, with some tears already rolling down his face, can't help but feel honored that he was going to be used by a real man. As Shane came close to his tiny ass, he started to tease him with his thick head. Rick, already moaning through the jockstrap in his mouth, braces for what is to come next. Shane then proceeded to fuck Rick's hole nice and slowly. His extreme girth and length made it all the more enjoyable for him and all the more horrific for Rick. However, unknown to both of them, something was also occurring during this sexual encounter. Rick's dick, beneath him, was starting to shrink even more which each thrust of Shane's cock. Even his balls were starting to shrink more and more. This continued during Shane's turn, Jarrod's turn, and all of the jock's turn to where Rick was left with only a puny 1 inch cock and practically no balls. Just tiny sacs that barely produced any sperm. The jocks, on the other and, each grew an inch or so from the experience. After they all had their turn, they left to go have fun at the after party, leaving Rick on the floor humiliated and full of their cum.

AFTERWORD

After that fateful day, that was how it became for both Shane and Rick for the rest of the school year; and most likely for the rest of their lives. One day after school, Shane went to take the bus after football practice like he always does. He sat at the end of the bus in his lettermen's jacket, looking amazing and feeling just as cocky. While looking out of the window in a daze, he heard a familiar voice. "My, my, aren't we quite the stud now hmm?" Shane turned around to find the old women from last time, the same one that gave him the book, the book that started this entire thing. Shane smiled in seeing the old friend again and responded, "Uh, yup, it's me. Couldn't have wanted it any other way." The old lady smiled and her eyes lit up at the approval of yet another happy customer. "Well then if that's the case, I must be asking for the book back now. There are other souls that could use its help; just like you once did." She reached out her hand and Shane took the book out of his backpack, which was lying next to Great Expectations, and he placed it into her bony and pale hand. They both continued in small chat until Shane reached his stop.

END