"Co-coach?" the stupid pretty much squeaked behind the door. He opened it ever so slightly as he peered into John's office. "Coach? You wanted to see me this morning?"
"I did," John said, completely forgetting that he'd told Patrick that he was supposed to have a meeting with this morning. Patrick wasn't a bad kid he just kept skipping gym class. John knew that there had to be a reason the senior didn't want to participate. And he didn't want to screw over his GPA just because of something so easy to pass. "Have a seat."
"Am I in trouble?" Patrick asked.
"Sort of... See you aren't passing gym. I just don't think a bright kid like yourself should fail a class just because you don't want to participate."
"I know... But I just keep forgetting my gym clothes," Patrick's eyes trailed anywhere other than John's. He figured part of it was because now he packed more muscle on his frame than the student weighed but he could also see through the lie. To ease things along he started typing into his special device. 'Patrick can't lie to me.'
"Is that true?" John looked up from his computer.
"No... It's really cause I'm just embarrassed to be in gym. Everyone else is so much better than me and I feel like I'm just not good enough. It's just embarrassing. Better to not participate than to be made fun of..." Patrick kicked his feet back and forth. "But you probably don't know that..."
John really didn't even without the change to his body he wasn't as weak or meek as this kid. Every year there was a kid sort of like him though. Smaller than every other kid in the class and completely uncoordinated. Games and sports just emphasized how little physical skill they had. Other students would mock them, just reminding them how different they were. "Hmmm... That's no good. I can't have you failing just because of that... What athletes do you look up to?"
"I... I... I don't really look up to athletes... Well... It's just... Don't make fun of me, okay?" John nodded at Patrick's request. "I really like those wrestlers on TV. I know it's fake or whatever but they still sound so confident all the time. And they don't take crap from anyone. Not that anyone would ever talk back to them... Cause they're just so big... Kind of like you. You probably don't have anyone talk back to you." Patrick was starting to get excited. His eyes no longer held to the floor, instead they looked directly at John.
"Guess not," John blushed a little. He'd only been changed for less than an hour but he really couldn't see anyone wanting to say something against him. "So you'd want to be like one of those wrestlers?"
"I mean... Yeah... But there's no way that could ever happen. I'm not built like them. They spend so much time working out and I couldn't even lift a tenth of what they could. It's just... I know I'd never be able to be one so it doesn't even matter," he returned to his more passive nature. The excitement seemed to die down.
John stared silently for a second. 'Why not,' he smiled to himself. He'd seen those wrestlers before. It was the same when he was growing up. Even if now they worked more for defined muscles instead of just bulk he remembered always being jealous of them to. And it must have been a lot more desirable looking to someone who was even smaller than he was. He turned back to his computer. 'Patrick's body is built like he thinks an All Stars Wrestling wrestler is built.' He hit enter and watched the show.
"Coach?" instantly Patrick could already feel something wrong with his body. He clenched his fist, causing his thin bicep to flex. "Coach?" he asked again. Despite a bass adding to his voice, fear was overwhelming present. He looked down at his body starting to pulse. Muscles pulled back and then pushed out larger than before. "C-coach?" he stuttered. His voice was even more baritone as he wiggled around in his seat. He could feel every part of his body pushing further out. Growing bigger.
He flexed his toes trying to ease the pain caused by his shoes. The size 8's were far to small for his feet. His toes pushed out at the front. Harder and harder until they finally burst out of the front. His feet grew longer and wider, crushing the fabric that had once concealed them. Every bone in his body stretched longer and grew thicker to hold up his growing frame. He reached to the sky helping alleviate some of the discomfort. "Coach?" he asked again from his growing height. He was well past the 5'6" he'd been previously. Easily passing 6' and still growing.
The clothes he was wearing was already too small for him. His shirt rode up past his belly button while his jeans were half way up his calves. However with his thickening frame that wouldn't last long as his muscles pressed even harder against the fabric. They weren't able to contain the absolute raw power they contained. His body naturally flexed at the discomfort sending the fabric flying off his frame. "Fuck yeah!" he cursed as blood traveled even faster through his body. The deep baritone of his voice resonated off the walls. "Fuck yeah!" he flexed again. He was only in a small speedo that didn't hide his clear bulge.
"You like?" John asked.
"Are you fucking serious? I love it!" he flexed again showing off his massive chest that stuck out several inches in front of him. "This is the greatest!" At 6'3" and 250 pounds, every part of his body could easily be shown off. Right now Patrick was too busy checking out every part to care that he was still down to just some underwear.
"I'm glad. But I need to know if there was anything else bothering you during gym class. Or anyone specific?" John drew Patrick's attention back to him."
"Well..." Patrick started off.