You sit in the waiting room waiting for your friend to come out. When he told you about this place, you thought it was a joke but you came along for support. While you're waiting in the lobby, a man walks in wearing a Red Sox jacket. You recognize him as the manager of the team. You two talk for a while and he tells you he's waiting for his First Baseman, John Lee. You start as he mentions your friend's name.
"John?"
"Yeah, John's the best First Baseman we've had in a long time. You two friends?"
"Yeah John and I've been friends since first gr-", you break off as John comes out in his uniform looking every inch the studly jock. You've secretly had a crush on John for a while, but were afraid of what he would think.
"John? Dude, you look great!" You get swept up in a huge hug from the jock formerly known as your friend.
"Hey dude, it's good to see you." John said. "We gotta take off for practice, but come on by after...we'll get a beer." That Boston accent just makes you melt, and you come to a decision.
John and the manager start to leave, when you blurt out. "Do you guys need any more players?"
John and the manager exchange a smile.
"Well, we could use a pitcher...why, you know anybody?" John said.
You almost burst from excitement. "Yeah, give me a second I'll go get him!"
"Well, we could wait a few if this guy is as good as you say he is..."
You rush to the receptionist and fill out the forms as fast as you can. You can hardly contain yourself as you wait. John smiles as he watches your anticipation. Is it just you, or does he seem to be fancying you?
Finally, the doctor calls you back.
Sitting down, the doctor offers you a seat in front of the desk.
"Hi *looks at sheet* Edward, I'm Dr. Smith. I just worked on your friend John, and looking at your sheet, it look like you want to be a professional baseball player too. So...let's talk physical appearance. What do you want to look like?"
You glance at your reflection in the mirror opposite the doctor's desk. A pretty plain individual looks back. Mousy brown hair frames a face that isn't handsome or ugly just...there. Same with your body, you're pretty much forgettable. As you look at your reflection, an image pops into your mind.
"Doctor Smith, I want to as awesome a pitcher as Adam Wainwright!"
Looking at his computer, Dr. Smith looked up stats.
"Well, according to this, he's 6'7 and 230lbs...ok how about endowment?"
You think about it for a moment "Well endowed, but not freakishly huge." Dr. Smith entered it into the computer.
"Ok." Doctor Smith asked you more questions about physical appearance and personality, and the smiled.
"I'm guessing you want to be on the Red Sox with your friend?" You vigorously nod your head.
"Ok, I've got you at 6'7 and 230 lbs, have the abilities of Adam Wainwright on the field, well endowed, Age 24, Race: Caucasian..specifically Irish...nice choice. Personality: confident jock, but likeable...a team player. You play for the Red Sox...have you given a thought about name and a number for the jersey?"
You think as long as your changing everything, you might as well change your name as well.
"Sean...Sean Flanagan...Number 42"
"You've got it...Sean." Doctor Smith said as he tapped the last of the information into the computer.
Doctor Smith led you down to a room with a padded chair. After you sit down in the chair, he closes the restraints and brings out two IV needles.
"Ok Sean, these two needles contain vitamins, a saline solution, and proteins, carbohydrates, and a medicine to help with the change. They've been premixed by the computer to the stats you gave me."
The doctor sticks the needles into your arms and starts the drip. He leaves the room as you see the fluids enter your arms. You feel a little bloated by the time he comes back with a duffle bag with the Red Sox emblem and stenciled on the side is "S. Flanagan 42", in his other hand he carried a syringe filled with the blue fluid"
"Sean, here's your gear. This syringe has a fluid that will unlock your DNA and start the process. With that, he injects the syringe into your bicep.
A tingling sensation followed with a burning sensation washed through your body. You look down at your legs as you see the pants rip as your new muscled legs swell up and your shoes tear as your feet swell up to a size 13.
You torso expands, and you find yourself growing to the 6'7 height you requested. You look at your arms as they begin to pile on muscles, becoming a pitcher's arms. Your hands grow broader to match your new arms.
You look at your reflection as yourself as your head and face contort and change to a baseball jock configuration that is irresistible. You hair changes from a thin mousy brown to a thick orange-red, and gets wavier and shaggier,your sideburns grow down, and a slightly unkempt goatee appears as your eyes turn a sparkling emerald.
A surge in your underwear draws your attention, and you look to see your penis grow to a respectable 8 inches with balls to match. You can feel the waves of testosterone they're producing to fuel your transformation.
The sensation fades and you look at your reflection. Staring back is a studly baseball jock in his underwear. A celtic knotwork armband adorns your right bicep...let's face it, you look hot!!
"Well Sean, it looks like everything went great...no ill effects?"
Your brain is a fog...Sean, is that your name? You try to answer, but all you can get out is a "huh?"
A small side effect of the process, your mind is trying to operate a body it doesn't know how to. We'll get that taken care of, but first go ahead and change into your gear.
You open the bag and put on your Under Armor t-shirt, slider shorts, cup, pants, socks, and cleats, and a jersey with "Red Sox" on the front and "Flanagan 42" on the back. A team-issued cap completes the outfit.
"Sean, you look great! Come with me."
Doctor Smith led you down the hall to a booth. After you sit inside, your foggy brain sees a ball, bat, and glove on a shelf. Putting on the headsets, Doctor Smith throws a switch and information flows into your head....
"Baseball is life...You play for the Red Sox...you are now number 42, a pitching ace..." You start to practice with the equipment like you've been playing baseball all your life.
"You're a team player...you're cocky and confident...you're also gay....You're a professional baseball player...You're a jock....you are gay..."
You feel the new information entering your brain. After a while, a voice says, "procedure complete" and the door opens.
"Well Sean, how do you feel?"
You look at Dr. Smith, he's pretty good looking..but you've got people waiting.
"Just fine, Doc." You say in your new Irish Brogue with just a hint of a Bostonian accent.
"Glad to hear it. People now know you as Sean Flanagan, the Red Sox's pitching Ace. Your old self is gone."
"Never cared much for him anyway."
"You better hurry, you've got people waiting for you. Good luck...Sean."
Shaking the Doctor's hand you say "Thanks for everything..I mean it!"
You grab your bag, and rush out to meet John and your manager.
John sees you come out in your new body and uniform, and a look of desire flashes across them.
"Well there's our new pitcher. How are you, Sean?"
"Fine, sir"
"Sean, you didn't tell me you signed to the Sox! With you pitching, we're gonna kick some serious ass this season!"
Seeing the look between the two, the manager said. "I forgot something in the car...I'll meet you there." With that, he headed out to the car.
You and John looked at each other in your uniforms, and the feeling came over you. You immediately start kissing passionately, your tongues battling for dominance in each other's mouth while you hands caress every inch each others body, your cocks swelling in your cups .
After what seemed an eternity, you two separate.
"Sean, this is going to a an interesting season....on and OFF the field!!"
Grinning that devil-may-care grin of yours, you grab John's perfect bubble butt for one last squeeze as the two of you head out to the car.