Eric got home, not even noticing his latest change, and immediately decided to head upstairs. He had to find out what this weird dissonance in his head was. He remembered spirit week in high school or something, and then all of a sudden college cropped up in his mind and choosing a college that wanted him for its football team. The new teenager felt a swirling moirass of other confused emotions inside of him, just as many urges and needs as well. He remembered having a girlfriend, and wondered if he might be able to meet her at some point. More than meet her, he mused to himself in a cocky way.
He did not even ruminate on that little thought as he went upstairs to take stock.
Opening the bathroom door, he walked inside, locked the door behind him, and stripped off his jacket and shirt. Viewing the image of an incredibly healthy young man, strapping and of a great form, most likely the subject of the lust of a good number of the female members of the audience, not to mention the cheerleaders. A spartan physique honed through countless hours in the gym, and a handsome face on top of that. Stubble that was well trimmed and scruffy, but never veered too close to ill taken care of. Grinning at the reflection, he noted how his pecs jutted, and his abs were toned to the point of resembling a carving of a rennaisance painter hoping to capture the strength and form of the ideal human man. Yes, he thought, this was his form, earned through hard wo-
He thought about that, trying to remember his work through the fog of his memories. Trying to think of his work outs, of his friends on the team, of who he was in relation to people in his high school. It was these naggling thoughts, returned, that brought forth a dawning realization. A surge upward of internalized memories.
This was not how it always was.
He was Eric, a young boy, first. Then he was sixteen, then he was nineteen.
What. The. Fuck?
He had literally seen six years of his life pass before his eyes, and he was out of high school and a prospective college student awaiting the most well advised option in terms of a college. He had an athletic scholarship, he was a prime member of the community, unlike other jocks, he had never been a bully. He was...different.
He slipped his shirt back on, inspecting himself for any further signs of aging, but could not find anything. What was causing this, he wondered. It was certainly moving quickly, that much was for certain, and it was altering how his life was going. He was some sort of big football star now, but he still remembered being Eric the Boy.
Maybe some sort of oversight by whatever had done this. It was certainly not a bad thing, though, as he noted. He had become tall, muscular, well beyond the age of eighteen, and his own man. His parents, apparently, gave him the ability to do as he pleased mostly, and let him independently make choices, a vast improvement over the "stay here and touch nothing" of his youth. He was hitting the jackpot, and here he was worrying about it! He was growing up into a mega-stud, and if trends held, he would be able to live comfortably. Football Players made quite a good amount of money, not to mention other perks to that kind of life.
Well, at any rate, he would need to test this somehow. See what made him change, and whether anything played a factor on it.
His stomach growled loudly, and he decided he might as well treat himself to a feast, after all, it felt like he had quite a workout today. Leaving the bathroom for the kitchen downstairs, he put his jacket into the closet in the hall by the kitchen, noting numerous other awarded jackets. He was good...
Entering, he looked through the fridge, taking out some fried chicken, some pre-made bacon, lettuce and tomato, some whole wheat bread, a banana, a chocolate milk container, some slices of beef, and for desserts, a few scoops of his favorite kind of ice cream. Damn was he hungry. He prepared himself some fried teriyaki chicken, two BLT Sandwiches, two glasses of chocolate milk, the banana, and the sliced roast beef.
Sitting down at the table with his feast in front of him, retrieving some forks and spoons before hand, Eric licked his lips in anticipation before digging in with abandon, bent on satiating his appetite, and then going back to finding out what was wrong with him. No, what was RIGHT with him. Drinking one glass down and scarfing down chicken and beef, Eric then chomped down on his sandwich, merrily eating and indulging himself. He was unaware of the golden band pulsating lightly on his wrist, he just took it to be bling he got from somebody.
As he ate, he did not notice the curse placed upon him through the conduit of the golden item acting upon his behaviour. As he was eating, it took that into consideration with his previous changes. As Eric powered through the meal, his body grew broader by feeding upon the prodigious energy put into it. Going from nineteen to twenty two, Eric shivered in pleasure, that particular effect of the curse now much more intense. Not necessarily as noticed, though, was all this bulky muscle becoming evident. His stomach became slightly more barreled, losing just a bit of tone. His pecs became larger and bulkier, but became slightly less granite-like. His shoulders broadened even further to keep with his increase in bodily size as his biceps turned bigger, stronger for sure, but, like the rest of him, slightly less toned.
The fuzz on his face turned thicker as his face filled out slightly from its former all angular configuration. His hair lengthened slightly on his head.
As he got up and got his ice cream, eating through that too, his legs turned more bulky, quads and calfs both. His bulk even affected his waistline as it slowly increased as he ate the last of his meal. While the rest of him changed, his masculine organ did not change further - although the pulse of pleasure earlier made it turn flush and half-aroused, and the bush down there thickened. His shirt size stayed much the same, proud as he was of his bulk, his muscle, his raw power on the field, the ability he had to run surprisingly quickly and take hits, and still keep going regardless. His pants, on the other hand, needed to accomodate more, and so increased in size.
He scratched his chin as he finished eating, wondering due to that weird feeling earlier whether he had changed again. He felt he just knew something new - he was now a player, a man on the team instead of someone merely seeking such a role. He was already pretty well paid, and his life was going well. He still had a girlfriend, and still found himself, all the same, an object of attraction to the female fans and the cheerleaders, who called him "Big Eric".
Yeah, it had definitely happened again. Things had changed again. He wondered how much his body had changed, and whether or not he should inspect that, or if it'd have an effect. However, otherwise, he had a different need in his pants. In absence of his girlfriend...well...
Until he could figure out what was doing this, he'd need to keep a log. Pulling out from a shelf a log book, he wrote down everything that happened so far.
Deciding on what to do after this, he...