Simon kept running around in a panic, looking for some way to escape the dreadful locker room. As he ran, he noticed a few new things about his jock body. With every step, his humongous dong smacked against his leg. The sound coupled with the splatter of precum across his leg made Simon want to throw up. He also noticed that he had been running for what seemed like years, but he wasn't even tired yet! The only thing Simon was really starting to enjoy was the way his muscles bunched and swelled with every movement. After about 5 minutes, Simon had realized that he had stopped running and had just been watching his muscles flex. Simon inspected himself even further. By this point, there was even hair on Simons hands and feet, like a bear's. By the time Simon was done inspecting himself, he knew the jocks must be nearly back to the locker room. He looked up and saw a heating vent. Simon dashed off to look for a chair. He found a plastic one near the showers. He hauled it back over to the duct, which was now a surprisingly easy feat with his swol jock bod. Wait. What? Simon wondered when he had started thinking in jock speak. Simon tried to block out the jock thoughts as he set the chair down. Just then, the jocks ran back in the room.
"Hey Simon... wait, what are you doing?" Mark yelled as he and the rest of the football team stampeded back into the locker room. They threw the chair out of the room and tied Simon up again. "If you can't just behave, then you're gonna have to be tied up," Mark said. Although he was looking pretty cocky, Simon noticed that Mark's worry was breaking through his cool facade. Mark turned to the rest of the team and huddled up. Simon heard Mark whisper something that sounded like, "We better hurry before he outsmarts us." The team turned to face Simon. They grabbed a bunch of gear, then rushed Simon. Simon felt buzzing, trimming, coloring, and cutting on his scalp. When it was all done, one jock held up a mirror to Simon's bearded face. Where his shaggy brown hair had been before was now a blond crew cut. The jocks huddled back up as Simon sat on the verge of tears, a big jock with the mind and face of a nerdy wimp.
Then Mark turned back to Simon, smirked, then snapped his fingers. All at once, the jocks took off their jockstraps. Simon's hairy bod quivered in fear. The jocks came up to Simon but didn't wring out their jockstraps like before. Mark made a speech instead. "Brothers, we have almost completed our newest member of the football team. We've been needing a new up-and-comer to replace me as quarterback next year when I graduate and go off to the military. And this little squirt is that up and comer! Simon, we've been saving this special sack of jock supplies for you. It contains your new football uniform, cleats, and regular day clothes. It has more deodorant, Axe, manly musk spray. It really is the whole package Simon, and we will now bless both you and it and give it to you. At this moment, every jock PEED on Simon's face. Not sweat, not precum, but PEE. As the streams of urine started to die down, Simon's face changed. He felt his slim jawline crack, as his face shape changed from oval to a firm, masculine, squared off shape. His slender nose became big as the thick hair grew inside his nostrils that reeked like his pit bushes. Simon's eyes went from a sharp, intelligent green to a dull, dumb blue. His eyebrows became bushy and unplucked. A new jock face to go with his jock body. Then the jocks turned to the sack.
Now came the jock straps. Every jock squeezed the mixture of cum and sweat onto the clothes and toiletries in the bag. After they were all done, the jocks swirled everything around in their cum until everything was soaked. They pulled out the football jersey from the sack and shoved it on over Simon's head. The stench of it was disgusting, and it was still damp. The jocks released Simon and unlocked the doors. Simon started to walk out of the room. Then he noticed that his head was kind of stuffy. Simon tried to think of chemistry but failed miserably. In fact, Simon could feel all of his knowledge about pretty much everything gushing out of his brain, down his body, and into his balls. Simon's huge penis filled up, and he shot his load out onto the locker room floor, as he pulled his jockstrap down just in time. His knowledge was gone forever. Then, Simon's brain refilled itself with knowledge, but it was a different kind. This knowledge was of football strategy, sex, and dinking around with the football team. How old was he again? Oh yeah, 17. But what was his name? Oh, that's right. It's Ryan. How did he not know that? Ryan turned around to the football team right as he was about to leave the locker room.
"What the hell was I doin'? I just fuckin' blacked out dudes! Why the fuck am I in my game day jersey? Damn, I smell rank, but I look sexy as fuck. Hell dudes! Let's go work out and get some bitches! Ryan's horny tonight!" Ryan hollered and ran back to the team. He changed into a tank top, a pair of sweats, and some fly basketball shoes. The team hooted and hollered and ran out of the room. Mark knew his work was complete. A geek was dead and a jock was born.