Adrian was one of the big theatre kids in the business, always outperforming the top percentage of his class and even winning awards at festivals and broadway talent acts. There wasn’t anything that could stop this charismatic young lad. He was a mere 5’7 with the moppiest brown hair anyone could have.
He arrived early to the theatre at his school, gracing the auditorium with his footsteps as he sets the bag down on the side. He was getting ready to practice for a leading male role he got in a play just recently.
Anthony, his colleague, was the same. He was slightly taller than Adrian, reaching up to a 5ft 9 and had raven black hair. He, like his best bud, were gay, though preferred masculine men that know how to really dominate a guy.
Adrian smiled when he saw his supporting actor coming along into the auditorium. There was something about punctuality that kept him happy since it was a decent way of showing that you care about the craft that they are going to be exhibiting.
The supporting actor of course, smiled back, continuing the red carpet walk towards him, the stage lights blared and in set as they were scheduled for a rehearsal today. Both of them were the stars of the show in their respective categories, dedicated to their craft.
“So have you run your lines yet?” Adrian asked almost immediately as he got out his own sheet of lines. “I took the liberty to memorise everything thrice before coming here today.”
“Of course, you know how dedicated I am for this.” Anthony spoke, always grateful that his leading actor is as passionate as he was for this, specially this was their first official rehearsal on the production’s stage as well. “Always looking forward to meet the rest of the cast when they come in.”
The both of them had their lips curled up into a smile, as Anthony walked towards his friend center stage. Replicating the introduction scene from the play as he intends to.
“I’m always glad you are on point Anthony.” The quirky man replies, not even wanting to wait for the rest of the cast to enter the theatre. He was leading the introduction scene with all of might, even if it was just a practice, he loved doing it with his supporting actor.
“So in his scene.” He said, after completing his first line as he paused in between to walk hastily over to a box that held all of the props that the play needs. But as soon as he reached down to pick up something that was needed, all he could find was two rifle props that were not even supposed to be there in the first place. “Oh, what is this?” He sassed. “This is supposed to be a elegant play, not that of violence, this isn’t a joke.”
“Yeah, what the heck!” The raven haired liberal spoke, before scoffing arrogantly at the fact these two rifles are still here despite the fact the previous group had a state of notice to clear up-and clean OUT.
“Probably props left by the brutes from the play Sergeant Heterosexual or something...played by that Jasper LeRoi!”
“Him again? He just posted himself flexing over at his social media page, titled ‘LeRoi’s Bod for the ladies only, back off fags’”
“Well he can’t help it, he is as dumb as his characters are. And so is his latest conquest and the rest of the douchebags who liked that post”
“Won’t be surprised if their next play is called ‘Straight As An Arrow’.”
The both of them scoffed haughtily, finding and following that dumb brute had brought so much laughs to the two men, admittedly-while they despised the homophobia in Hollywood, they do admit that Jasper was hot, and so were the rest of the crew in sergeant heterosexual.
Though they did find it fucking funny how stereotypical they were...
Adrian handed over one of the rifles to Anthony cause ain’t no way he’s carrying those unruly weapons with both of his arms! They were...beginning to feel somewhat heavy surprising enough.
As Anthony grabbed ahold of his one, looking at it cluelessly as he made a disgusted, uncomfortable face at it. Anthony hated the army, anything to do with incredible patriotism and uniformity, he was unique! Not some kind of unruly brute that goes for other unruly brutes in the battlefield...though he always found them quite hot in uniform. “Wonder if they left their uniforms here as well.”
“Gross, what are they doing tarnishing the importance of a good play?” He continued to complain since he knew how Sergeant Heterosexual was just a blatant attempt to get the conservatives into theatrical plays which just didn’t sit right with Adrian. With a hefty note, he handed over one of the rifles to Anthony, not even feeling how heavy they were suddenly getting or the plastic was starting to turn into metal.
“What? No, you aren’t even supposed to think like that, even if they left their uniforms here..” He rubbed the temples of his forehead dramatically. “We should dispose of these.” He said.
What Anthony didn’t know was that his fine polished fancy leather shoes were starting to expand out in size, the leather getting much more durable as it gained a sandy brown colour, laces swirling around as the shoe thickened.
“Oh I wasn’t?” Anthony starred blankly for a second, as his very own brown loafers as they raise themselves upward past his ankles, his very own socks starched with navy green with an insignia contrary to what his ambitions were. As the shoes expanded in size, not even realising his buddy Anthony going through the same process as the brown in them gets polished and shoe shined regularly into clean black. An equal amount of laces looped forward, layered upon layer over those XL sized boots that seemed to be prided on and taken care of regularly.
“Thought it were neat that they kept their weapons here or something...” He too, facing the same fatigue as his bud. Rubbing his temples, completely oblivious to the change happening as his toes wiggled in anticipation, like a gay boy surrounded by a load of conservative recruits.
The both of them had their feet stretchhhhh and POP! Expanding forward until they hit the ball, the ends of the shoe. Feeling the necessity to stand firm and strong as a layer of tan patched upon their regularly-massaged feet, roughness and toughness getting its massage forth as the extreme sizes gave away their passion for dancing for stomping. Those feet became more suitable for missions, exercise, fitness, and most importantly marching as they instinctively went-
STOMP STOMP!
“Don’t you think it’s weird? How they didn’t keep the weapons away? It’s like they want someone to find them..” Adrian only replied as he would not have realised that his ankles and feet were now enclosed with navy green socks that’s getting thicker by the second, shoes expanding in size and raising up to his ankles. There was a slight pause to this whole debacle as he didn’t really feel like dancing anymore? Not with these feet he won’t. They were clumpy, much more manly as they wharf off a musk that only hours of spending the day training would come about.
Anthony’s skinny pants began to tuck themselves under the thick durable boots, a camouflage pattern starting to appear right on them. The kind that’s needed to soak up all that sweat that would come out from the intense outfields and missions the liberal boy would soon have to do.
“Probably...” Anthony spoke, his hands gripping onto the handles of his rifle tightly, almost as though he treasured it with his whole life...at the very least subconsciously. Noting it being even heavier than before as though it were pregnant, he recalled from somewhere that sergeants always told their recruits to protect their rifles like their wives, or they’ll face punishment in the barracks!
But he was gay...wasn’t he?
As the camouflage patterns begin to creep up his pants, so did the ones of his buddy Adrian, the styles and poshness giving away to a typical camouflage pattern, army green like his growing upward as they too-tucked themselves under his strong boots. It is noted as the pattern continues to crawl up-their sassy skinny legs will soon become a lot more manly in record time, as they stopped jerking and bending to gay liberal beats, bones cracking and rising as they continue to grow firmer-tougher and taller with every passing conversation.
“What if these rifles are left for us?I mean..pretty sure the men who left these knew about our agenda...” Adrian muttered as he, too, held onto the rifle like it was like his chick, firm and strong on the handle. No wait, he was gay wasn’t he? Why did he refer to his prop gun his chick? Man, this was really getting trippy.
The camouflage pattern had finally made their way all over both Adrian’s and Anthony’s pants, making it way bigger than it should as their legs are starting to pack with muscles, swelling up for days. A belt begins to snake their way through the loops of the liberal’s pants, clipping right at the front as a pressure was now right at Anthony’s dick. It was growing bigger, much more thicker as it used to fuck women, not gay men.
“Totally...strong american men that wouldn’t ever disobey the orders their Sergeant.” Anthony noted, gripping his rifle tighter than ever like the recruit he is. Their legs decking the same tan as their feet, swelling to the size of tree trunks as laces of grownup, masculine curls creep upon straightened knees, up to those muscular, strongly defined thighs. Made for combat and not any form of artsy gay work as memories of any form of stage awareness gave away to stealth and charging towards the enemy...the enemy...
Who was the enemy?
As the camouflage centers in the middle, their groins throb in excitement against their skimpy underwear, excited for the mission as testosterone and dopamine surged through their balls-wanting to be groped so badly but Sergeant said soldiers had to be obedient, and only fire when its most opportune.
The weight of the rifle increased greatly, the two liberals barely managed to hold their rifles, veins stretching as their biceps began to swell due to the friction. Hands gripping it tighter and tighter as their fingers stretched and began to lengthen themselves, while being very careful.
Anthony was not trigger happy like those liberals...and certainly not his buddy Adrian...
Their underwear themselves began to tighten, cupping and protecting their privates as balls and their members continued to swell in size, swelling as a new form of sexual taste enters into their system, forgetting their own repetitive touches of fucking themselves-aside maybe a grope here and there to adjust their package. Why fuck themselves when they got-
As their identity was brought into question, cupping their parts was a simple, white uniformed jockstrap. One fit for athletes, jocks and the military. Definitely not ones for liberals who would get their underwear soaked at the sight of anything.
Wait...aren’t the both of them liberals...?
“Yeah, men who won’t disobey the Sergant.. you’re right.” He replies with a newfound firmness that wasn’t there before. Every sensation that he was feeling up was savoured up by the temptation to rebel but he knows he shouldn’t as his thicker, masculine feet stood at its fullest attention like he was there on a real mission, not some silly idea of a play. The struggle of holding onto the rifles were soon gone as his arms bulked up to match the brute strength needed to be able to manoeuvre through the battlefield while holding up their rifles.
Anthony’s neck thickened now as it was needed since his shoulders were broadening up but as soon as it happened, the tie around the liberal’s neck was thinning out to just a black string before the bottom hardened out into different little dog tags that were useful in the battlefield. A camouflage pattern was now creeping down both of their shirts, the middle splitting open as buttons decorated down, the sleeves racing along their thickening and swelling arms.
“That’s us.”
“Correct.” Anthony replies with assertion, a forcefulness that seemed to have developed over time from consistent shouting, saluting and commands in the army. Their free-handed fists clenched in firm aggression, as roughness and years of climbing and working out in the battle field took hold over their masculine, anti-dainty fists. Ones that seemed to prefer to pat and wrestle with true bros rather than ones that swish swish like sissies:
Their soft shirts having morphed into uniforms in the army, oblivious to them, as pockets raise upwards, pressing against their breasts as their pecs push and square forward alongside their butts, which hardened like iron clad like an impenetrable force against the gays...
“Our mission is to scout out enemy gays and set them straight.”
No more slouching for Adrian as he stood upright, shoulders straightened and chest out. This was the discipline of a good American soldier as he was standing right next to his comrade in arm. His hands were not used for dainty work or liberal arts but much more conservative actions and full on battle war.
Anthony’s raven black hair was now shortening up at the sides and even on top as it was starting to shave out in a form of a flat top. The black brightened up to a more sandy blonde as his facial features began to define themselves, wrinkles and scars of hardship began to form and etch themselves on his face.
Their surroundings beginning to shift, the expensive theatre equipment, lights, stage and everything, lost their sheen as dust and dirt crawl upon them, broken bulbs and lack of any liberal energy as the place seemed more like an abandoned warehouse than a theatre stage.
As Adrian winced, memories with his best bro Anton as jock bullies in high school surfaced in their mind. Abs clenching with their strong backs recalling themselves as linebackers in the football team, beating up nerds and fags that dare question their masculinity or the policies of America as they volunteered themselves to serve in the armed forces, privates under the command of Sergeant Heterosexual, also known as Sgt Marcus Gospel, who would always bring them out babe hunting after every mission.
The environment was now being more suited for being all tough and masculine in real world situations. There wasn’t any time for liberal arts or some silly things that was considered pansy, why would you want to do those things when protecting your country was much more important.
Hard but fresh memories of hanging and beating the whimps out of those that were different from them with his best bro ,the kings, the top of the food chain. Adam couldn’t even believe that men like those that they terrorised existed but they were in the army now baby, things can be taken in their own hands and where they truly belonged.
“Sergeant Marcus, Patrol completed, over.” Anton responded, over the new walkie talkie that was snatched over from the side of his utility belt, similar to the police force but army is better-specially with his best bros hamming up together after every mission.
Adam reached over with his free hand, huge and rough, just like Anton’s as they gave each other a tight grip and shook firmly, reaching up and arm hugging the other as a job well done as they set off from this abandoned estate.
As they marched down the stage, posture and march was equal to that of a disciplined soldier, rifles held sandwiched between their sides. A green camo-printed burette crowned over their blonde crop cuts, like a final symbol of their new selves into Army Specialists Anton and Adam, US army.
Forgetting their old lives as gay liberals as a newfound republican mindset stationed at their post, as straight conservative army men, full on committed to their country, maintaining a strong masculine imagine inside out and intimidating every gay until they have no choice but to become straight.
That was their speciality after all, the infiltration of enemy gay territory.
That was the order of nature and that is what their army group prided upon. Speaking of which, he heard Sergeant had a very special surprise for the both of them, a couple of cowgirls waiting for them at the entrance. As their hardons swelled in anticipation.
Hoo boy-were these men excited!