Rashad was busy flexing in front of one of the mirrors in the locker room, a cocky look on his older face, hinting at the new cocky
attitude the teen now possessed.
"Yo, man, we gots to get mah boy Dennis in on dis shit!" he said to B, never taking his eyes off his posing routine. His voice and word
choice were still fundamentally odd to him, but it felt so natural, like he'd been like this his whole life.
Dennis had been the former Roger's best friend. A typical science nerd, Dennis wasn't into working out, and was plagued with bad
eyesight, a nasal voice that could almost shatter glass, and a thin gangly body.
"We can do dat," B said. "Jus gotta get to him and then da magic can begin! Ya know where he is?"
"Prolly at da library, bro. But it's gonna be hard to get him ta come wit us. I'm not exactly who I used ta be." Rashad had finished his
posing and got a tank top and pair of shorts out of his gym bag. He looked like a champion bodybuilder, mainly because he was now.
He couldn't help but flex and flash a smile at a few of the girls as the four of them walked out of the gym, heading to find Dennis.
Dennis was at his usual hideout deep in the reference section. No one ever went back there, so he could take his fantasy novels and
read in peace.
He was so engaged in his book, he didn't notice the 4 bodybuilders peek around the stacks. He never saw one of them hold out a small
device toward him, and he never heard the hushed whispers.
"You sure 'bout dis? Not askin' first seems a little mean," Rashad was asking B, going over the changes he'd asked to be made.
"We didn't ask you? You wanna go back to ya pasty white self? Jus' say da word, and I'll make it happen." B was aiming at Dennis, not
looking at the younger black god.
Rashad had to admit, he'd changed race without his consent, but he couldn't even remember being white now, the concept was just
foreign. He looked down at his chocolate muscles, flexed his pecs and his arms, and smiled. He was pure African-American, proud of
it, and loved what he was.
"Hit him," Rashad waited with anticipation for his friend to join the muscle bruthas.
Dennis was halfway through his book when he felt an itching on his arms. He absentmindedly scratched the back of his arm, not
noticing the reduced range of motion of his arm, or how his developing chest bunched as he reached around himself.
He turned the page, not seeing his T-shirt sleeves ride up his increasingly impressive arms as his shoulders expanded and rounded
out.
He shifted in his seat as his ass lifted up, becoming granite, shaped by dedicated squatting and endless leg presses. His shifting also
allowed his new package to settle in, larger and thicker than before.
His legs under the desk, he never noticed he thighs becoming impossibly thick as his calves filled in. His jeans would have split by now,
had they not already changed into athletic shorts, still straining to contain the massive quads. His boxers had already become the
customary posing trunks, all new bruthas wore.
He absently scratched his abs, still too engaged in his book to notice they'd grown as hard and ribbed as cobblestones underneath the
oversized tank top he now wore, stretched to it's limits by his muscled chest and back. As he sat there, from the back it appeared he'd
grown wings as his lats pushed away from his body.
His blond hair pulled into his scalp, impossibly short, and changed jet black. All the while his face was restructuring, resembling an
ancient Egyptian prince, as he aged into his very early twenties.
He'd finished reading about proper bench form in the bodybuilding book he now had, and reached to turn the page when Dennis noticed
his hands were dark. He gasped, and looked down at himself, an anatomy chart of bodybuilding perfection encased in dark chocolate.
He froze, not knowing what to do when the 4 bodybuilders appeared in front of him from the stacks.
Rashad spoke, "Welcome to da club! You the newest member of the muscle bruthas!"
Dennis tried to talk, the sensation of new lips, face and tongue slurring his words a bit. "You responsible fo dis? Wha - Why's my voice
so deep, an why I'm talkin' like dis? An who da hell are you?"
"S'okay man, jus chill. It's me, Rash- I mean Roger" Rashad had trouble remembering his old name.
"No you ain't! Roger's a thin white kid, not some huge brother!" Dennis was starting his mental changes. The collegiate bodybuilder was
learning everything he needed to know to succeed at his true calling.
"Yep, just like you. Wanted to give ya a gift, so we could hang more. Jus wait - here it comes, bro!"
"Der's no way you're Roger, dats imposs-" Dennis finally was getting his heritage. The last bit of needed information. As his old race
melted away into his new one, his African pride swelled. Denzel looked over at Rashad and then to the hulking Cedric, B, and Rod.
"Rashad, my man!" Denzel stood up and tried out his new muscles. "I don' know how the hell you did this, but I can't thank you
enough!"
"What were you reading back here?" B looked over at the bodybuilding book on the table.
"Ah dunno, some fantasy shit I think. Can't really remember, I need to look up some nutrition stuff, though," Denzel was completely in
control now. He bent down and grabbed a protein drink out of his gym bag.
"So who's next, bros?" B was getting into this!