You run home in your new jock getup. With every stride you feel your massive pecs bounce up and down. You get home and drink some water. Might as well pop the supplements Mark gave you. You feel primal energy inside of you well up even more.
In your room, you stroke your cock for what seems like forever. Your balls, heavy with cum, churn and churn. Finally, you blow, across your room, covering your computer. It's logged on to World of Warcraft. But who's been touching your computer? You sure as hell aren't the kind of faggy nerd who'd play that shit. You hear a knock on your door.
"Simon, is that you? We missed you at the lab..."
It's Randy, one of the nerds from school. Fuck, what a fat loser.
"Oh my gosh! Simon, what happened to you?"
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM? AND MY NAME IS NOT SIMON, BITCH!" you roar.
You shove the twerp and he falls down, whimpering.
"Were you the one who touched my computer? Because I sure as hell don't play nerdy ass shit like that, and NONE of my jockbros do either. Look at my body. Look at my COCK. It's 8 and a half fucking inches long. I'm a stud beast. I play only with other stud beasts."
You hold your fuckstick up to Randy's face. He whimpers, "but... but I'm your best friend, Simon! Don't you remember me?"
Even though the transformation destroyed most memories of your former life as Simon, you gasp as you realize what he's saying is true. But remembering your pathetic, previous self pains you. You have to fix this somehow. You're a studbeast, and you only play with other stud beasts. You remember that your balls are full of super testosterone, and your jack off session didn't even take the edge off. You only have one option now...