Brett's UN-Lucky Jock Part 2 (humil nc muscle theft)

The following story is a work of fiction. The characters portrayed within are a work of fiction as well, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is a coincidence and unintentional.

Copyright © 2003. This story is the property of the authors, O'Melissokomos and jockmorphr. Any duplication, in whole or in part, is forbidden without the express written consent of both authors.

To sunfiregod and fucil99.

Read Part One

Brett drove as fast as he could to get home. He didn't care about the rest of his classes any more than he did obeying the speed limits. He had bigger issues to deal with, in a matter of speaking. He would not, could not believe what had just happened to him during gym class. It was there where he witnessed his mighty 10-inch cock shrinking down to a pathetic 2-inch stub. Luckily for him no one there knew what happened to him, but still, he had no idea what had caused it or what to do about it. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes and felt it with his own hands, he would still be denying his current condition.

Brett didn't even bother to park his car properly at the driveway of his house. He jumped out of the car and rushed straight into his room where he had a full-length mirror behind one of the doors. He locked the door to his room and immediately threw off his jacket and shirt. He unbuttoned his jeans and stood in front of the mirror wearing only his boxerbriefs.

This is it, he thought. This is the moment of truth. As he was about to pull down his underwear, Brett was startled by a knock on the door.

"Brett, honey, is that you?" a voice asked. "I saw your car outside but I didn't see you come in."

Oh shit, Brett thought. It was his mother.

"Uh... yeah Ma, it's me."

"You're home rather early. Are you all right?"

"I... I think I'm coming down with something," replied Brett.

"Do you need anything? Should I come in?"

"NO! I mean, no. I just need to lie down and get some rest."

"Are you sure? Maybe I should have your father pick up some medicine on his way home?"

"No, Ma. I'll be all right. There's still a lot of aspirin here with me. Thanks."

"Ok, honey. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen making dinner."

Brett was thankful his mother had been quite gullible but it only delayed the inevitable. Brett stared back at his reflection on the mirror and braced himself for what he hoped wouldn't be what he already knew he'd see. He very hesitantly pulled down his boxerbriefs.

"FUCK!" Brett froze, finally confirming his greatest fear--his cock was gone.

"No..." Brett studied his reflection carefully and saw everything else about him was the same. He still had his big body and handsome visage. He still had his cut abs and shredded quads. But for all intents and purposes, Brett's dick had disappeared. In fact, if he didn't squint, it looked like he only had a pussy full of pubic hair. He didn't even see his balls anymore.

Brett looked down and parted the hairs that almost totally engulfed his once prized possession. He tried feeling for his balls and this time he felt them but ever so faintly. They were tightly tucked into his body.

What the fuck happened to me, cried Brett. Why? Why?

With his thumb and forefinger, Brett took what was left of his penis between them. He shuddered upon contact. His 2-inch nub was so sensitive.

Brett tried to come up with some reason--any reason--to explain all this. Was it some sort of medical condition? Was it something he ate? What could he have possibly done for this to happen?

Fuck, I can't go to the doctor looking like this, Brett thought, I just can't. I look like a freak!

Filled with despair and self-hatred, Brett started to cry again and did so until he fell asleep from exhaustion. He didn't even hear his mother calling him to dinner.

The next day, Brett gave his mother some lame excuse to stay home and not go to school. Despite her insistence for him to see Dr. Schlagen, the family physician, Brett ultimately convinced her that his illness wasn't that bad (except that it was really way worse than anything she could ever conceive) and didn't require having the doctor come over.

Brett stayed in his room all day. He pulled the curtains close and shut off the light. He didn't leave the bed for anything, even to piss. He couldn't stand to see his penis; he couldn't stand to see himself. His entire world had fallen apart. How could he go on? What could he do? What would his parents and friends think of him? He was a monster.

It was almost 9 in the evening when someone knocked on his door. Brett barely noticed the day pass by.

"Brett, are you awake?" The voice was deep and familiar. It was his best friend and neighbor Spence. He and Spence had known each other and had gone to the same schools since elementary. Brett was always the bigger and more athletic guy and Spence, though he wasn't a slouch when it came to sports, preferred reading books over shooting hoops. This led to Spence having to help out Brett a lot with his studies especially in the latter part of high school when Brett was gunning for a football and baseball scholarship. Not that Brett deliberately took advantage of his friend, it just always seemed the case the Brett's needs were somehow more important than Spence's. But that's how their relationship progressed and now that they were both in college, Brett began to take Spence for granted.

"Brett, your mom's a bit worried about you. Can I come in?"

Brett refused to answer. Go away Spence, he thought. Just go away. Please.

The door creaked open and a silhouette of a man peered in. "Why are the lights closed?" asked Spence. "And I know you're not asleep, dude, 'coz I'm not hearing any snoring." Spence felt for the light switch on the wall and turned on the lights. He quickly found his friend sitting up on the bed with the covers wrapped around him. Brett's eyes were flushed-red and his face was deathly pale. He looked terrible.

Brett barely acknowledged his best friend entering the room. He instead tried to avoid looking at Spence directly.

Spence said, "Hey bud. You look like shit. Your mom told me you were sick. Are you feeling better now?"

Brett slowly shook his head no.

Spence continued, "Well, part of the reason I'm here is to let you know that your coach is expecting you to be at practice tomorrow. I tried calling but your mom said you weren't awake. You turned off your cell and that kinda left me with no choice but to go here and tell you directly. Anyway, he was pretty miffed that you weren't around this afternoon and said that if you didn't show up tomorrow he'll take you off the team. He doesn't care if you have the bubonic plague or something. He said unless he sees your name in an obituary tomorrow, you'd better be there at 4pm sharp. Personally, I think he's being a major asshole but still, he's the boss. Do you think you'll be able to make it? Maybe if we can get a doctor's note or something... Brett, are you even listening to me?"

Spence reached out to tap Brett on the shoulder but his friend quickly pulled away.

"What the fuck's the matter with you Brett?"

Spence was getting really worried and so was Brett. C'mon man, he thought, this is your best friend. You got to tell someone. No, he'll just laugh at you. No, he won't. Yes, he will. Tell him to leave. No Brett... you can't do this alone Brett.

"S-Spence..." Brett began. "I... I..."

"What is it?"

"Something... happened to me yesterday." Brett was having a very difficult time getting the words out of his mouth.

"Yeah, I heard that you rushed out of the locker room like a bat out of hell."

"I-I don't know how but... but..." Brett was in agony but he'd gotten this far. And this was his best friend, God damn it.

"C'mon Brett. Spit it out," said Spence.

Brett stood up from the bed and let the covers fall from his body.

"Shit, man. Why are you naked?" Spence's eyes scanned his friend's physique on pure instinct starting from the head before suddenly stopping at the crotch area. Spence's jaw dropped to the floor. He'd seen his friend's cock before and he knew it was an impressive piece of equipment but now there was nothing there except for a small bump that was barely visible in all the hair that covered it. "B-Brett... what... the hell..."

"Now do you see why?"

"I... I can't believe it. What h-happened to it? Where'd it go?"

"I don't know, Spence. Believe me if I knew I'd be doing something about it right now, but I have no fucking clue, man."

Brett sat down on the bed feeling distraught all over again. He almost broke down into tears but managed to hold on to whatever dignity he had left.

Spence stood there dumbfounded. He knew when he came in the room that something was bothering Brett but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw for himself. There was his best friend sitting on the side of the bed in anguish and there wasn't anything he could do about it except to be there for him.

Sure, part of him wanted to run away. Part of him even felt a tiniest tinge of screaming at the top of his lungs what a freak Brett had become. But all of this was pushed away by an overwhelming sense of compassion for his friend.

Spence carefully approached Brett and sat down beside him on the bed. For minutes they stayed silent, not sure on how to proceed. Brett was slightly comforted by the fact that at least somebody else knew about his predicament. Spence gave Brett an understanding smile and placed his arm around his friend's shoulder.

The moment Spence's hand touched Brett's bare skin, something happened. There was a tingling sensation that started from the point of contact and quickly spread through Spence's body. He felt weird but strangely... good. He didn't know what was happening but he kept his hand on Brett and even held on a bit tighter.

Brett noticed it too. Unlike his friend, however, he began to feel weak, as if something was sapping his strength. His body felt hot and as the sensation became too insistent to dismiss, Brett turned to Spence and saw his friend taking in deep breaths and had his eyes closed.

Brett was about to get up from the bed when he felt Spence holding him back. Spence opened his eyes and Brett was alarmed by how they looked. There was something different about them, something... dangerous. Then without warning, Spence swung his body in front of Brett's and planted a kiss on his lips.

Brett freaked out and with whatever strength he had left pushed Spence off of him and down to the floor. Brett gasped for air while Spence scrambled to get on his feet. He looked disoriented and confused. If Brett didn't know any better, Spence appeared to have just awoken from a trance of some sort.

The two friends stared at each other without speaking a word. Both of them were breathing hard. Then Spence spoke up. "Brett, I'm... I'm sorry," he whispered. He turned around and fled the room leaving Brett all alone.

Brett couldn't believe what had just occurred. His best friend had just kissed him! Why? Spence wasn't gay. There was no reason for him to do that. And the thing was, why did it leave him so weak and exhausted? He could hardly get up to close and lock his door. He even tumbled on his way back to his bed and the second his body collapsed on the mattress, Brett passed out.


Brett woke up the next morning and considered staying home again. But then he recalled what Spence had told him the night before--that Coach Joven would kick him off the team if he failed to show up for practice today. He also remembered what Spence did to him last night. Did he really kiss me, he wondered. No, it must have been an accident. Yeah, that's it--an accident. Brett felt a lot more relieved.

He dragged himself to the bathroom to use the toilet and for a shower. He was about to piss when he was rudely reminded that his old cock had been replaced by a puny substitute. "Fuck," he said. He had forgotten all about it. Nevertheless, he was thankful that it still worked. He just had to get used to aiming it differently now.

After his shower, Brett dressed up for class. He opted to wear baggy clothes to camouflage his current condition but then he noticed they were a bit looser than usual. His mom probably screwed up the laundry, he reasoned to himself.

Brett got to the college on time and spent most of the morning avoiding everyone he knew. He didn't want to speak to or even see anyone from the team. As soon as somebody approached him in the hallway or in class, he'd pretend not to have seen them and make a quick getaway.

Lunchtime passed and Brett had so far been successful in keeping a low profile. He deliberately stayed at the back of the classroom and by this time, his friends, at least the ones who knew he was around, got the hint and left him alone. He even figured out that by listening to the lecture, he could actually forget all about his penis for extended periods of time. Unfortunately, years of inattentiveness had caught up with him and his mind would wander off on its own.

It was during his last class for the day when Brett's attention began to unconsciously drift from the lecture to the events of the previous night but his daydream wasn't quite the same as what originally transpired. Instead of pushing Spence away during the kiss, Brett saw himself welcoming and even reciprocating it by kissing back. He helped his best friend disrobe and soon enough the two of them were naked on the bed making out madly. Brett screamed at his alter ego to stop what he was doing. You're not gay, he shouted. Get off him, he demanded but to no avail. The love scene playing in his mind enraptured Brett and he was horrified when he saw that the dream Brett's 2" cock was hard and dripping with pre-cum. And what shocked him even more was when he realized that his own real penis was doing the same thing. Oh shit, he gasped. What's wrong with me?

All of a sudden, the bell rang. Brett snapped out of his daydream and rushed out of the classroom. It was time for practice.

Brett took some extra careful measures to ensure that none of his teammates suspected anything was different about him. First, he came to the locker room earlier than usual so he could suit up in private. Second, he stuffed his jockstrap with an unused sock to fill in the missing bulge. And lastly when his teammates arrived, he put up an arrogant facade and acted as if nothing had happened. Heck, he had even managed to convince himself that the Big Man on Campus was back so football practice came and went rather quickly. Nobody took notice that he was a tad slower running and slightly weaker throwing his passes.

As the players filed back into the locker room, Brett again had to be wary of his actions. He would have to wait until everyone was done with their showers before he went for his. Although he took his time undressing (he had to make sure no one saw anything while he stripped and put on his towel), some of his teammates were still in the locker room horsing around. Shit, he thought as he played along. Why were they taking their fuckin' time?

Without warning, two large arms wrapped around him and lifted him off the floor. It was one of the linebackers and Brett couldn't break his teammate's grip as he flailed wildly in the air. His friends gathered around him and laughed at seeing their cocky quarterback a victim of a playful prank.

"Fuckers! Stop it, God damn it! I mean it, man--put me down now!!" Brett screamed and swore that he was going to kick their collective asses if they didn't stop. He struggled with all his might but he didn't have the leverage to

"Hey Mr. Macho, can't you take a fuckin' joke?" asked his friend Neil the receiver who reached for and swiped the towel off of Brett, exposing him.

"Fuck yeah, Brett..." added Fred who played on offense. "What are you screamin' about? It's not like you have anything to be ashamed of. Look at that big horseco..." Fred's voice trailed off as the team looked in stunned silence at Brett's bulge, or lack thereof.

Everyone was aghast and just looked at one other, not quite believing what they were seeing. For about a minute, no one spoke up until Neil couldn't keep himself from blurting out, "Brett... what the fuck, man?"

"Dude, what happened to your cock, man?" another asked.

"He's all hair!" somebody remarked.

Fred fumbled for words. "Doesn't even have any nuts... fuck. He's been... geez--I dunno. Brett. What the?"

Quietly Brett, his face red with embarrassment, growled to the one holding him up, "Put me the fuck down. Now." His buddy complied almost immediately and Brett slowly and calmly got his balance and then reached down to pick up his towel and covered himself.

"Dude. We didn't know, man," said Neil apologetically.

"Shit, yeah. I mean, we didn't have any idea about... well... your stuff, man," Fred said.

"Guys, just... really. Just leave me alone," answered Brett, still in shock over what had just happened.

"But, what the fuck happened, bro? Tell us--that's freaky shit! You were the biggest-hung guy on the team!" pressed Neil.

"You mean they just fell off or something? Is it contagious? Fuck." exclaimed another teammate.

Brett turned, his embarrassment fuming into anger. "No! They didn't 'fall off' you fuckin' asshole. They're there, all right? They're just..."

"What, man?" Fred prodded.

Brett started to sob openly. "Fuck! They're just... They're just tiny, OK? You found out. Big Brett isn't so fuckin' big anymore."

"But, dude. Guys' equipment doesn't just shrink up, does it?" asked Neil.

"Well I don't know, Neil. I just don't fuckin' know. All I know is that MINE did. Now--I just have to be alone, OK? I can't deal with this right now. And I can't deal with any of you here. You all just had to push me. I tried to keep this to myself. I tried to hide it, but you just had to goddamn push me till you found out..."

"Look, man. We didn't..." Fred was about to put his hand on Brett's back as a sign of support.

"FUCK YOU!" Brett screamed. "FUCK ALL OF YOU! You don't know what this is like. You just don't know, OK?"

Brett was heaving and sobbing at this point and the guys began to get the hint. They picked up their stuff and shuffled off. Most were embarrassed, but all of them freaked out and quite a few of them were laughing quietly to themselves. "Big Brett", the biggest stud in the school, had finally been taken down a peg.

Brett was devastated. After his teammates left, all he could do was cry himself in the corner of the locker room. First his friends from the football team knew his about his shame, then his friends in the baseball team would also know, and soon so will the entire college, Brett and his tiny weenie, Brett and his pathetic clit. It wasn't fair, why him? What did he ever do to deserve this?

When he was sure nobody was around, Brett forced himself to stand and take a shower so he could get the hell out of there. It was a good thing too since there wasn't anyone to hear him sob. Although Brett was able to clean off the dirt from the day's practice, nothing was going to be strong enough to wash away the stain of his embarrassment.

After his shower, he dressed up and left for his Corvette parked outside the building. On his way past the hallways of the school gym, he noticed that the lights of the weight room were on. Strange, he wondered, who'd be there at this time of the night? It was already past 8.

Brett stuck his head inside and saw Spence, his best friend, doing reps on the bench press. He wanted to leave--the memories of last night's kiss and the afternoon's daydream should have been enough to send him running--but instead, he found himself standing by the door of the weight room and observing his friend in awe.

Spence hadn't noticed him yet; he was too much caught up with his workout. He moved with feral grace and animalistic authority. Every exercise brought out a sense of strength, confidence and intensity Brett never knew Spence had. Brett was transfixed over his buddy and couldn't quite put his finger on what was different about him. Spence seemed... bigger, sexier and more masculine.

Then Spence spotted Brett and, for a few seconds, the two just looked at each other. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Hey," Spence finally said.

"I have to go." Brett broke eye contact and looked down to pick up his bag.

"You just got here."

"I had a rough day and I'm tired."

"You're only going home now? Thought practice ended two hours ago."

Brett grimaced suddenly feeling the pang of the locker room incident. "I had... things to do. And what about you? You've never stayed this late at school before either."

"Oh," he said, "I've been feeling really great all day and I thought I'd cap it with a workout. It's been amazing. It's like I'm on steroids or something."

Brett entered the room and approached his friend. What are you doing, Brett screamed inside his head. Stop it. Turn around and leave right now. But his body moved on its own volition.

Spence took a swig of water from his bottle and asked, "So... is 'it' still the same?"

"Y-yeah... it is..." Brett was drawn to Spence and he didn't know why.

"I'm really sorry about that man... I mean, it must be some fluke of nature for that happen to you. It's not as if anyone was out to get you."

"It sucks... I fucking hate it... I fucking hate myself..." By this time, the two friends were inches apart, Brett in his plaid polo shirt and loose khaki pants and Spence sweating in his gym gear.

"No man, don't say that. You'll get through this... I know you will."

"I... I want to kill myself..." Brett lamented.

"Fuck man... no..."

Brett's knees buckled and almost collapsed to the floor from the emotions building up within him but Spence managed to hold on to him and like last night, it happened again, only this time it was stronger and more powerful. Brett gasped as he felt a wave pass through his body, as did Spence.

"Oh God... It's..." Brett could only whisper and when he opened his eyes he gasped in fear at seeing his best friend. He couldn't believe it but he couldn't deny it either.

Spence was growing.

"S-shit... S-Spence... what's ... what's happening..."

"What's happening to me?" finished Spence. "I don't know buddy but it feels fucking great! How about you?"

"Dunno... why... feel... weak..." Brett groaned and it wasn't just that--he was in pain. "Please, Spence... let me go... y-you're hurting me."

"A big strong guy like you? What the hell are you... wait a minute... you're right..." Spence looked down "Fuck man... you're getting smaller..."

"W-what? N-no... That's impossible..." Brett tried pushing his friend away but Spence increased his grip.

"You're not getting away from me that easily this time," he boomed.

Brett was frantic to the point of panicking. He saw his friend's eyes and they were full of anger and lust--a lust for power. Why was Spence acting this way? Why was he getting bigger and why was he shrinking... unless... no fucking way, he thought.

Spence was stealing his body...

"S-stop it, Spence... please... you're *really* hurting me..."

"Not as much as you've hurt me little man," replied Spence. "Do you know what it's been like to live under your shadow for all these years? It's been hell! And to think I've been such a good friend to you when all you've ever given me was crap. I'd say this is payback time and you're paying me back in spades!"

The process was gradual but continuous. The longer Spence held on to Brett, the bigger he got to the point that his body was practically bursting out of his clothes. Spence's muscles grew and became more defined. His shoulders widened, his lats expanded, and his quads and glutes ballooned. Spence didn't even notice that his shoes were ripped apart by his growing feet and he loved every minute of his transformation.

Brett, on the other hand, had deflated like a blow-up doll being emptied of air. His once bulging muscles literally withered away on his shrinking skeletal frame. Not only was Spence absorbing his strength, he was also taking his height. Brett was totally helpless at the now-huge hands of his "best" friend whose demeanor and attitude were nowhere near what it used to be. Spence flung Brett down on to the bench and held him down with one arm as he tore away at Brett's clothes and underwear that practically flew away in shreds.

Brett was naked except for his shoes and socks. "F-fuck... S-Spence... noooo..."

"Fuck? Don't mind if I do." Spence grinned as pulled down his shorts and jockstrap to free his cock, and when he did, even he was surprised. "Holy shit! Will you look at that?"

Spence's penis was humungous. It was at least a foot long and 5 inches around... and it wasn't even fully hard. Brett was screaming like a girl but Spence easily shut him up by covering his mouth with his hand. His cock had already been leaking a lot precum and without any regard for his best friend, Spence slammed his tubesteak into Brett's chute. Brett's eyes teared from the pain and his shrieks were muffled as Spence drove his cock all the way in.

"Oooh yeah... that's one fucking hot hole you got there 'buddy'..."

Brett couldn't think anymore. Spence was ripping him apart. He prayed to God for Spence to stop or for him to lose consciousness but no--he felt every inch of Spence's 15-inch shaft violating him. It didn't take too long for his best friend to spew his cum into his bowels. There was so much jizz that some of it even shot out of Brett's ass and all the while Spence was cumming, Brett had his own wretched orgasm from his 2-inch cock that barely managed to shoot more than once.

To his dismay, Spence's fuckrod hadn't softened and his friend began thrusting it in and out again of his already battered hole. Brett turned his head away from looking at Spence, and on the mirrors on the one of the walls, Brett saw a pale shadow of himself. His body and cock became a matched set. He was shorter and he lost all the muscles he worked so hard to build. He was no longer the Big Man on Campus but the jock-turned-joke. His cock--that was something he could have learned to deal with eventually but this... this was worse than anything he could have ever imagined and he still had no idea why this had happened to him. Brett closed his eyes and stopped resisting. And in between Spence's grunts and his own feeble sobs, he could have sworn he heard a woman laughing in the distance.

To be continued?