Mark stood with one arm around Brittany, fingering her nipple, as they looked at the transformed Simon.
“Simon, can you hear me?” whispered Mark, surprised at the gentleness of his voice.
“Yes, whose that?” murmured Simon from far away, but with his old voice.
“It’s me, Mark. Call me Mark,” replied Mark, thinking if Simon was to get used to being a jock, he would be on first name terms, “How do you feel?”
“I feel great, er, Mark, thank you,” said Simon a bit taken aback that he was addressing his tormentor as a friend. And indeed he had never felt better. It was as if a weight had been taken off his back, and he was now standing upright for the first time in his life.
“Look at us, Simon, what do you see?”
“I can see you, Mark, and, I’, sorry I don’t know her name.”
“She’s called Brittany.”
“She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” said Simon, blushing over his handsome face.
Mark was a bit nauseated at this uncool language, but recognised at as a big step in the right direction.
“Would like to, er, make love to her, Simon?” Mark stammered partly at using such wet language and partly out of resentment to make his woman sexually available even in the cause of objective scientific experiments.
“I’d like that more than anything else, Mark,” confided Simon, bashfully. Brittany herself, who was completely ignored in these propositions, felt herself near to tears. Nobody had ever spoken about her with that degree of tenderness.
“Well you can,” said Mark, “but it’s up to you. She will only make love with a real jock. Do you want to become a jock, Simon?”
Quietly, but with no hesitation, Simon replied, “I want to be a jock, please,” although if his wish was granted that would be almost the last time he would ever use that last word.
“I can make you a real jock if you really want it. Your interests and your language will completely change, but you will have far more fun in life. And you’ll have far more friends. Your attitude and style will be totally different. Is that what you really want?”
“Yes, please, Mark,” said Simon with trusting simplicity. “I’m tired of being weird.”
“So there’s no mistake, tell me again what you want.”
“I want to be a jock, please.”
“OK, that’s really good. You won’t regret it. Now at the moment you are a smoothie. That’s very pretty, but a true jock is a hairy-assed guy. And Simon is not a name for a jock, is it.”
“I don’t suppose so.”
“So in a moment we will know you are a real jock when you are properly hairy, and know your true, jock name. Do you understand?”
“Yes, thank you” said Simon in the last polite and considerate speech he would make for a long time.
“OK, bitch,” Mark spoke to Brittany, “You know what to do. Simon, do you feel a big tension in your balls?”
Simon nodded.
“All the things that stop you being a jock are building up in your balls right now. Brittany is going to relieve you of them, leaving you to enjoy your new life of pure strength as a jock. Get ready to enjoy.”
Brittany knelt down in front of Simon and gently at first worked his prick, which was already erect. He began to moan and thrash about and her movements became more violent. She noticed with some sadness the look of doggy like devotion for her in his eyes and the look of adoration on his face, were replaced with an arrogant glint in his eyes and an overall sneer. While she always found this irresistible in a man, she knew it could never make her happy.
A fan of dark blonde fur covered his pecs, and fair hair lightly covered his forearms and thighs and to a less extent his shins. His thrashing reached climax and Brittany held off, her work achieved.
“So how d’ya feel, dude?” asked Mark.
“Fuckin’ sweet, man,” replied the new jock. Mark felt a tingle of pride to hear that the innocent geek was now one of his own.
“And what’s your name, dude?”
“Name’s Sean, man, why the fuck do you ask?” and a Celtic armband tattoo appeared around his massively developed right bicep.
“Here’s Brittany, Sean.”
Sean sneered at her. “C’mon, bitch, I need to shaft your pussy.” With that he took her off, both as excited as she always was at the prospect of an intense jock fuck, and unsatisfied that she was to know no tenderness.
Mark knew he had twelve hours in which to make the transformation permanent by ensuring Sean fucked a woman, had a workout and played a game of football. Looked like a piece of cake.