"YESSIR!"
Gulp!
Martin was afraid, afraid of what that muscular homophobe would do to him. Body frozen as his arousal bumped up and down. Like PTSD and paranoia-he had to cope with this enough so he can get out...but how?
Changing Gyms? Changing his appearance? Thinking about boys-BUMP!
“Ack!” His hand involuntary gave his head a good knock, as the paralysis of fear and anxiety got shot away in an instant. A huge sudden change from what he felt earlier.
“Nows not to be thinkin of dirty things soldier! Its Combat time!”
“Yessir...?!” His mouth shouted, with confusion band shock as he stood up straight. Rolling back his shoulders to ensure he had the perfect posture as he clamped his legs tightly, parallel to one another.
While he was initially frozen out of guilt, shock and shame, now the man stood tall and proud like a soldier. Voluntary was his middle name now. As he volunteered himself, abet unwillingly and unaware that he did , into this curse , he had to see his service through.
Not that the man had anything to say against, lest disciplinary measures are to be taken—!
“AGH! FUCKIN FAG VOICE!”
The hunk inside the shower reacted angrily to his meek “yessir.” Like poison burning through his skin, it won’t be surprising that he’s gonna come out any moment and—
-VRRRRRRRRR-
“WHAT DID’CHA SAY FAGGOT?!”
Off came the curtains of the Gym’s furthest shower room. Revealing an enraged Ric whom was half way having an intense steamy shower-Tossing all that aside except his bath robe that was barely concealing his het boner for his girlfriend.
Nobody interrupts the hunk’s pre-sex jack off session to his GF. Especially when he’s preparing the grind that pussy all night for hours.
Martin’s eyes widened, staring at the flaring body of the angry bodybuilder jock coming towards him. Like a rampaging bull, nostrils flared with horns directed towards the gay-
Gay....Gay....?
“Did he just call me a fuckin fag?!” He spoke, conflicting with his initial thoughts of finding the Fitness dude hot as he stared at Ric, time slowed as though bullets were being fired at slow motion.
Huge pectorals , six pack abs, strong biceps circulating from his broad shoulders. Heh, he admired that dedication coming from the man-though the recruit’s gotta keep his boner hidden at the battlefield-only reaching full mast when his rifle has got a clear shot at his intended target.
Looking down at Ric-Actually looking down for real. As he STOMPED with his right sole, feet CRUSHING the force of his shoes as it sent his spine spiralling up to the sky, head formerly slightly lower than the top most locker now close to hitting the ceiling as he glanced downward to the slightly shorter male coming at him.
He glared, unaccepting that his masculinity was questioned despite his years of service that shaped him STRONG as his growing biceps-Biceps
They swelled-SWELL-he kept up his fitness regime even after he was done on the field, Guns loaded with pride as they RIPPED the cotton RIGHT OUTTA HIS SHORT SLEEVES.
Rolling his shoulders back with satisfying POPS, looking at his fists as they opened up briefly to reveal worn-and rough hands, feeling the age baring him before shaking it off as a sign of exhaustion.
“Must’ve been missing mah glory days...!”
He spoke, rolled back shoulders equalling Ric’s before they broadened to that degree of extreme commando training during his 20s. Former age doubling itself to a hefty 46 as he still kept goin.
His skin shifted from a pale embarrassment to a fully tanned cowboy. Wrinkles and frowns donning his face as facial hair consistently grows-gets shaved off-and grows on his face- flickering like his dick switch below.
Not that he’d questioned it, after all-only one question was on his mind-
“What kind of soldier would Ah be if I couldn’t protect mah family?”
His voice deepened, a sense of duty emerged within him as his beliefs went southern. Accent matching his great grandpa that fought in the world war, even speaking like him-that’s what his ma had always told em’
AND WITH HIS OWN AGGRESSION, HE BELLOWED-
“SIR YESSIR! COMMANDER MADSEN REPORTIN FOR DUTY SIR!”
With a loud, authoritative yet respectful blow-He lunged his hand forward-palms out wide to grab the rampaging untamed bull. Standing his ground as he caught the bull by the horns and—-
GRAB!
NOOGIE!
“HAHA! Missed you private Ric!”
The other male had his eyes filled with hatred and fury, but with those simple words and that loud commanding shout followed by that gentle noogies from his favourite uncle-He turned a full 360 from enemy to ally.
“HAHA! Missed you too uncle!”
"That's Sarge-Madsen to you, son."
Ric slid his head out of the arm lock hook the army man gave him, couldn't help but firmly saluting the man for his firmness and aggression. Eyes filled of admiration and respect to the older male.
Drill Sergeant Madsen, he liked that. Seeing his specialist recruits grow mentally besides muscle. Learning to respect their commanders and treat their rifles like their precious wives or wives to be. It was the perfect job for him.
Though of course, nothin’ beats the older days when he was a mid twenties, Ric -being an army brat when he was a lad- tend to stay with the Sgt during his school vacations
He was the one who taught Ric since he was just a young boy. All the push-ups, barbell crunching, heavy protein-laced meals, tons of shouts-of encouragement to prepare the lad mentally on his sexuality.
“The way to be a man when he’s all grown up Is to be with a beautiful ladeh.”
A soldier. 1980, the year where he enlisted when he was a young’n. Taking after his father ‘s Side footsteps with no shame and only pride and respect to his country.
“God Bless Murica!”
"The enemies have surrounded the perimeter!" He gestured cautiously , recalling what his dad liked to say. Bending his ever so growing legs as they STRESS on his glutes-long, thickening and becoming ever so muscular like he ran on the field daily to encourage the new recruits.
With loud RIPS-! The force of the growing muscle shredding his former clothing-unknown to either of them. Showing off his thickened-well seasoned thighs as well as meaty pectorals and a hefty pair of abs to complete the look-far greater yet more worn out than his nephew, the bodybuilder in front of him.
As he slowly got back up after “Just makin’ sure no gays are on sight.” His former sneakers- which have initially BURST open with his 16 ft behemoth feet, rewrapped themselves around. Forming tight leather all around with numerous laces, echoing up his heels as they reshaped into tough fitting army boots.
His pants became more casual formal-cause it was the weekend and he was supposedly on a date later. Cargo shorts draped down over those dark brown hair-frostings, pressing tightly onto his legs ,so much that you can see the muscle, as the material became a navy blue jean. A hefty belt with a golden buckle looped around his sturdy waist like with a—
CLICK!
BUFF! Goes his butt, pushing outward moderately, toned and devoid of fat as the transformation continued to his chest. The former remains of his tattered polo reformed themselves into a simple dress shirt with a roll of buttons and long sleeves to compliment his tight southern jeans as well as being of a brown colour to compliment his dark- brunet hair.
He rolled up his newly obtained long sleeves, re-exposing his tight, hard hitting muscle that was now evident and hanging on his arms as they too develop tuffs of hair with the occasional battle scar or two-he was sent out for missions after all.
“Not world war but every mission’s as serious.”
Giving them a tight FLEXXXX as a huge indent pressed against the fabric of his shirt, representing his SOLID biceps that he'd developed and maintained over the years in the—
"Gotta ensure I stay strong for Jane." He firmly replied, completely shy of fear as his booming voice echoed in the men's room. “Gotta be strong for our gorgeous-sexy, lady. Right private?”
“Course!” Ric smirked, putting an arm around his uncle’s shoulder. “Gotta stay strong every-way.”
A conversation between heterosexual men, about their bodies and girlfriends. Hetero needs, beer, and all that straight stuff. Seemingly felt to have happened for over a life time when it was only five minutes.
Not that either het are aware off-as the transformation soon finishes its final touches.
His hair completely buzzed off the sides and back as it gave a nice, loud, and a satisfying BZZT as his top gets shaved off to a nice flat top. Suitable for a clean cut man such as himself.
In fact, it was perfect! That's how hairstyle's always been since he was in the army, and it oughta stay that way forever!
His facial features matured with aggression , jaw hardening as it echoes with years of stubble, formatting a beard as a thick strip of a retro 1950s mustache accented his upper lip. It was a shame he had to shave it off on Monday, Jane preferred the ruggedness it carried though.
"Ah Jane..." He sighed internally, almost like love at first site as the newly forming features took hold of him completely. From gay to straight, conservative and homophobic. What a way to go.
Gripping his golden watch that she gave him on his 38th birthday, his tent-hidden amongst his boxers underneath so no one can know but himself.
SHOTS FIRED. HIS RIFLE WENT COMMANDO AT THE ENEMY HOMO BASE. AINT NO FAG GONNA BE STEPPIN ON HIS HERE GROUNDS.
HE HOLLERED "ATTENTION!" WITH ALL HIS MIGHT, SALUTED THE AMERICAN FLAG WITH MIGHTY PATRIOTISM.
"God bless Americaaaaaaaa!" The proud soldier marched on out, patting his nephew out as his eyes was on the prize.
And there she was, waitin’ on the juice counter.
"Now there's my sugar plum!" A matured southern belle that was born to be in a diner showed up, as Marty naturally bent down as they connected their lips. Sealing fates, sealing sexualities.
Marty Madsen smiled as he walked hand in hand with his soon to be fiancé , Jane , as they both talked and reminisced about the loving times they had with one another.