It must've been a good omen, Blaine thought when he found a locker
with his name on it. Then he'd opened the locker and been sucked
inside naked. Now he hung there in the darkness with his legs doubled
over and the locker ceiling hook jammed into his mouth. He didn't
understand how it was possible for his forehead to be jammed against
the metal locker roof and folded back against his now apparently soft,
malleable and empty skull. His whole body seemed to be hollow inside.
It was like he'd been skinned alive, and hung out to dry, and somehow
his skin retained his mind and soul. It made no sense. Blaine's
throat felt dry. He couldn't close his hooked mouth or even swallow.
There was a clanking sound, and Malcolm was standing outside the
locker naked. Dwight Perry and his gang of thugs was with them. They
were all grinning.
Blaine was confused. Malcolm's suddenly powerful hands unhooked
Blaine and lifted him out of the locker unfolding him. He held Blaine
up by his shoulders inspecting his hide. Blaine's head flopped
backwards at the neck. He stared upside down at the row of lockers.
They seemed different now. The lighting was better. The locker room
was cleaner. Was it even the same locker room he had been in?
Malcolm spun Blaine around and examined his backside. Blaine stared at
the so-called jocks standing around watching. They seemed wrong.
Their posture and expressions didn't match their physiques or
personalities. He thought about Dwight's odd behavior recently.
Blaine and Malcolm weren't the first jock and nerd pair that he'd
tossed out those fire doors. It was a set up, he realized.
"So? Are you going to put Blaine on or not?"
"Just wanted to make sure he transformed properly. I don't want him
ripping like Sammy did when I tried to put him on," Malcolm answered.
He grabbed Blaine's mouth and stretched it wide. Then he started to
climb inside.
This was like Invasion of the Body Snatchers or that weird Doctor Who
show he had watched with the hot nerd chick who tutored him last year.
Butt ugly green aliens were capturing humans and turning them into
suits. He never understood how a hot girl like that could be more
into Sci Fi than she was into him and his sports. He wondered whether
Malcolm was really the nerd Malcolm or if there was a fat green blobby
guy wearing his skin. Maybe he was just a nerd who somehow figured out
how to turn jocks into suits.
As Malcolm's slimy hard cock left a wet trail over his lips, and down
the inside of his chest, Blaine realized where all the nerds had gone.
Over the last two weeks, the number of nerds at the gym had plummeted.
That was one of the reasons he was hassling Malcolm. All the other
nerds were gone. Now Blaine realized that all the nerds were still
there. They were just wearing Dwight and the other jocks' bodies.
Blaine felt Malcolm's little hard wiener inside his own big flaccid
hollow cock. Strangely, it was a perfect fit. Blaine felt his
suddenly rock hard cock extend to is full 10 inches. He felt precum
oozing out of his piss slit, but he knew it wasn't his precum. His
balls weren't churning. It was Malcolm's precum. Blaine had been
reduced to being a nerd's jocksuit. He realized that everyone would
think Malcolm was Blaine. All his girlfriends would be filled up with
nerd spunk, and Blaine would basically be a condom in the sex act. He
wondered if he'd still enjoy it.
His head snapped shut over Malcolm's head. Blaine saw his reflection
in the mirror opposite him, but it was wrong. It looked like him, but
the posture was wrong, the expression on the face was wrong.
"Oh, Blaine, you needn't worry about me porking your girlfriends. I
suppose I might if I had to, but I prefer guys," Malcolm said with a
snicker, "And oh, yes, I can read your mind. I know your combo, and
PIN, and I'm going to enjoy that nice illegal cash bonus that the
Alumni gave you for joining our college's team."
How could Malcolm know about that?
"Damn, jocks really are as dumb as they seem. I just told you muscle
brain, Blaine, that I can read your mind. So it'll make it really
easy for me to pass as you. Understand? You're just a suit of clothes
for me now - an exosuit with a read only memory."
"Actually, its got write memory too," Dwight proffered, "Just no
physical control. I got totally wasted and couldn't remember a thing
last Friday, but Dwight jocksuit was stone cold sober, man it was a
good party. Haha," laughed Dwight.
Everyone laughed.
Malcolm started to pull clothes over Blaine's body. He could feel the
clothes, but he could feel Malcolm inside him. He wanted to vomit.
He wanted to vomit Malcolm out, but he couldn't. This couldn't be
real? He must've banged his head and be hallucinating right?
Malcolm whispered with an evil smile on Blaine's lips, "Oh, it's real
all right, it's real."