Mark spoke quietly.
“Can you hear me?”
The transformed Simon murmured “Yes, what’s happened to me?”
“How do you feel?”
“Um, I feel good. I know I am going to do really well in the Chemistry class today.”
“Listen to me, Simon, you will do just what I tell you to do for the next few minutes. Do you understand me?”
“I will do just what you tell me to do,” Simon whispered.
“You will not go to the Chemistry class. You hate Chemistry. You do not understand it. You hate math, and computer programming. You hate sitting in classes and learning things. Do you want to go to a Chemistry class now?”
Simon shuddered. “Not if I can help it.”
“Good. What you love is football and sport. You know everything about football. You practice whenever you can, at least every day. Your body needs to play. And you play to win, every time. When you are not playing football, you love physical exercise of all sorts. What do you want to do today, Simon?”
Simon smiled. “I want to play football, please.”
“No need to say please, Simon. You don’t usually say please. You’re tough You’re a jock. You have attitude. So what do you want to do today, Simon?”
“I gonna fucking play football.”
“That’s better. And if you aren’t playing and exercising, you want to fuck pussy. What do you think when you see a big pair of tits, Simon?”
“I’m gonna fuck the hell out of that slut.”
“And to do that you need some better equipment. Your prick is going to grow to match the rest of you and your interests, Simon, and as it does so, all you memories of being a geek are going to disappear, including your name. When I count to three, the change will happen. One. Two. Three.”
Simon’s little willy began to grow at once, and turn a coal black color. His balls enlarged to the size of apples. A neat line of tightly curled black hair formed his pubes. The prick continued to grow until it was at least twelve inches erect, as thick as baseball bat and perfectly smooth with the hint of veins. A beatific smile spread over his face, revealing two rows of perfectly white and even teeth.
Mark gasped at the extent of the power of his suggestion. “One last thing. You are black. You act black. You think black. You feel black. You talk black. Now what’s your name?”
The black jock’s mouth opened, and at first there seemed a rumble from the very depth of his being, before words formed in a thrilling bass voice, deeper far than any of the other jocks.
“Fuck man, you know I’s called Tyson. What the fuck is this shit?”
Tyson, as he was now, noticed the restraints on the chair. Mark had removed those round his chest and waist to allow for growth, but left some on the arms in case of problems. His handsome face frowning, Tyson slightly clenched his great biceps and broke the straps. He stood up and turned round butt naked; revealing the strongest ass any of the jocks could remember seeing, with almost a shelf above the buttocks. He was at least half a head taller than anyone else in the room.
Suddenly noticing Mark, he punched him on the arm, not noticing Mark stagger back on impact, and called out in a voice which would have been playful, if not so deep and commanding “Yo, Mark, dude, what the fuck sup?” and then noticing he was naked added “Where iz muh ma fuckin gear an' kicks?”
A student of linguistics may have noticed that Tyson’s language owed far more to Mark’s uncritical familiarity with rap, daytime soaps and action movies than to the lived experience of Afro American Vernacular English.
A pair of baggy, crumpled khaki shorts was found which covered Tyson’s powerful thighs and a pair of open sandals with a thong between the big toe and the rest. Tyson slapped an arm around Mark, and said “Yo, nigga, let’s sjet,” and guided Mark out of the room, leaving the other jocks puzzled.
The jocks had been enjoying humiliating Simon, and were looking forward to a black jock to patronize and double humiliate the memory of Simon, so they were taken aback by the presence of a man physically far more impressive than any of them, who also seemed completely at ease with himself. The jocks in truth were not at all at ease with themselves: hence their compulsion to dominate and humiliate others and transform anyone into one of themselves.
Tyson was clearly going to be the leader of their pack, and not quite what they had expected.