Jack Strom part 7 By RWThurman
Brent was really enjoying the progress of the three jocks, but it was necessary to slow down the effects for the next few days. All three started to grow forests of body hair all over their chests, legs, arms and face. Even with a clean shave before practice, each of the jocks sported a heavy five O'clock shadow. Shane’s back hair kept growing thicker even after shaving.
These jocks had to be able to pass muster for the Thursday practice, so Brent had to be subtle. It was easy for Brent to get some alone time with each of the jocks. The effects of the protein supplement cause each of them to become self conscious. Some of the complaints were pretty memorable:
"Dude, I just got a haircut last weekend, and I'm already bushing out."
"I can't stand these's hard-ons. I bust a nut and within ten minutes I have a hard-on again."
"All this hair is driving me nuts. I can feel it growing. Even my butt crack is stuffed with hair. Pretty soon, I'm going to need a map to find my own butthole."
"Gawd I can't wait to get this corncob out of my butt. I can't walk right and these bloated nuts make me walk like a cowboy with peach balls.
Bruce Ambler was the easiest of the three. Brent just made sure he built up muscle mass and remained larger than his brother Shane. Brent knew Bruce's increasing solid gains would drive Shane to the edge. Besides, Bruce's body wouldn't help him in the game. Well, that's what Coach Bailey told Brent. At 6'4, Bruce had gone from 295lbs to 360lbs of solid gains. After a while, Brent realized that Bruce was super nice when his brother wasn't around. He even called him Brent. Was Bruce just acting tough for his older brother?
Kipp was another matter. He wasn't first string, so it was unlikely he'd see much action in the game. With all the sabotage and desertion, Coach Harrison had a notion that Kipp should be prepped for a going away party. After each day of practice, Kipp left the field with a fat belly, but by the next morning, his abs were visible again. In reality, Kipps formula was pretty radical. He gained about 15 pounds of fat every day, but by the morning, his belly fat had redistributed all over his muscles. The formula was tailored to avoid his abs and face. It just appeared as though Kipp were gaining smooth muscle like Bruce. All that fat was weighing down Kipp and making him slower. Even Kipp's workout pants were receiving quite the workout themselves. His fat ass was starting to really stretch out the material. By the third day, the ass straps of Kipp's jockstrap were starting to dig into his fattened buttocks.
Shane was still the prima donna. His obsession with Bruce's size kept Shane's appetite to a dangerous level. Tuesday, Shane had to be fitted with special nutsock to constrain his balls to a manageable size. Basically, it was a heavy duty elastic bag that hung from Shane's waist. Laces on the side of the nutsock allowed Brent to put more pressure on Shane's herd of cows. After a few nights, Shane's nuts went from orange size to lemon sized. The biggest burden for Brent was to not laugh when Shane bruised his nuts out on the field. The nutsock made Shane super sized balls sensitive to any unplanned movement. Shane's gains were limited to his upper body, but his ass started to plump too. Brent didn't want to affect Shane's ability to scramble on the field. Huge legs would have throw off his timing. Unfortunately, with Shane crying for more protein supplement, he started to look top heavy. Even with a huge pair of hairy juice-giving jugs, Shane's chest still looked very masculine. For the most part, Shane appeared to be wearing a dirty blond gorilla suit. After a few days of giving milk, Shane's nipples had now swollen to the size of thumbs. In order to prevent Shane's tits from leaking on the field, Brent had to tie them off with rubber bands.
All three of the jocks started to lactate heavily. Brent took advantage of this by keeping all three jocks separated during their mandatory milking. All that man milk wasn't going to waste. It was fueling Kipp's bloating body.
Thursday's pre-game practice was the final test. Brent managed to disguise the protein solution pump to look just like one of the other water stations. Biff didn't see much action during the practice, but he was surprisingly agile with all that added fat. Finally, Shane was able to function well despite his top heavy appearance.
---
Friday finally arrived and it was the day of the big game. The Wolverines had left the locker room and we were now waiting on the sidelines. This particular stadium was the home for the Mavericks. For a minor league football team it was a really nice stadium with locker rooms with tunnels for both teams.
Jack looked over to the end zone. Lots of flash bulbs were going off and one of the Mavericks was obviously the center of attention there. "Hey, what's going on over there?"
I just had to smile. "Well, let's go over and take a quick look. We have about three minutes."
As we got closer, it was obvious that Shane was completing his photo shoot. Even though Shane was doing well in the role as the spokesman for Atomic Man Supplements, he still couldn't get rid of that condescending sneer that stained his face.
Jack turned to me and said. "Okay, I've had enough. Even with all these supplements, my cock are going limp from watching this."
"Yeah, you think?" I replied back and slapped him on the back.
Just then, Jack caught Shane's eye. "Hey Jack, come on over here." Shane ushered Jack over. With so many people, Jack couldn't looked embittered and say no.
In an instant Jack transformed his face into a genuine smile. He walked over to stand next to Shane. Shane was a full 6 inches taller than Jack, so both players pictured together was quite a contrast. Shane knew he'd appear to dominate Jack with his height advantage.
I took some time to study their differences. The protein supplement had definitely transformed both players. Shane had made tremendous upper body gains, but his legs were now proportionally undersized. Jack looked like he was built like a mountain. To the casual observer it wasn't really quite clear who looked better. Being taller is usually the trump card, but I knew a lot more than the casual observer.
After a few dozen photos by curious reporters, Jack started to walk back to me. On the way back, Jack got intercepted by a gentlemen who gave Jack a card.
Once Jack walked back to me, I had to say. "Well?"
"Yeah, the same old Shane. Constantly hurling insults my way about how they were going to dominate us for their homecoming game. Shane is the ass master. I'd lose before I even started trying to talk smack back to him. So I just ignored him and kept smiling for the cameras." After that last statement Jack shot me a quick wink.
I yelled back, "No, we all know about Shane. He's old news. What did the guy give you?"
"Oh, some marketing guy for ..." Jack had to read the card. "Atomic Man Supplements? He said, I had a good build. He probably wants me to pose for some photo shoots with Shane. You know, I'm on the ground knocked out while Shane flexes with one cleat planted in my chest. Who knows, probably much worse."
"Things have a way of working out Jack. You have a great attitude kid, and it exudes from you. I have no idea how you could smile and stand there next to Shane."
"Ha, that's easy. I just focused on the nice thoughts. After all, it was nice for Shane to recognize me and call me over. After that I just made eye contact with the reporters. Being a ham myself, I know a bunch of them by name. After a few moments, I forgot that Shane was standing next to me. Honestly, after the first thirty seconds I have no idea what Shane was saying to me."
I smiled back at Jack. "Nice! You probably pissed off Shane even more that way. We need to get back. Coach Harrison is looking grumpy."
At that moment, the Mavericks made their appearance on the field. Shane had already run over to meet his mates on the side line. Jack too was running over like mad dog to meet up with Phil. Both teams sent over their captains to meet for the coin toss. The Wolverines sent over Jack and Phil while the Mavericks sent over Shane and Bruce.
The Mavericks won the coin toss prompting Shane to cough into his gloved hand and say, "Losers!"
Bruce just gave Jack and Phil a soft salute before turning towards the sideline. Jack could tell Bruce felt sheepish.
One the way back Phil looked over to Jack and said, "I hate that dude. Every time he opens his mouth, I just want to punch his face."
"I don't speak ape myself. I've long stopped listening to him. We're talking about Shane. Right?" Jack gave Phil a snarky grin.
"Ha, you heard me though, so there. Yeah, Shane!" Phil countered.
Jack shrugged, "Owned! You know it's the Mavericks homecoming. Also, Shane just finished with a high profile photo shoot for that supplement company. It would really be a shame for him to get sacked."
Phil just mulled over Jack's statement and said, "I'll grant you this wish. I'd love to see that prick get some dirt in his jock."
After the kickoff the Mavericks returned to the ball to the Wolverine's sixty-eight yard line. The Mavericks brought out their offense while Jack, Phil and the other Wolverine defensive lineman went to the field. In the huddle Phil quickly got the attention of the others. "My man Jack has a simple Christmas wish. He only wants to see Shane Ambler sacked on the first play. Do you guys think you can do it?"
Everyone responded "Woot!" All the linebackers slapped their gloved hands together and yelled "Break" in unison.
Shane started shouting his audibles and then everyone heard the snap. Bruce was always Shane's center. Both Phil and Jack were the defensive tackles, but it was now Phil's job to take down big Bruce Ambler. Phil was a bigger guy than Bruce, but with Bruce's recent gains, things didn't look too good. Jack's used the air powered muscle suit to bounce off the Maverick’s offensive guard and back off of Bruce Ambler. From above Jack must have looked like a pinball bouncing off the opposing players. Jack's route wasn't random at all though, it was a precision course Jack had set up in his head. His last destination was Shane Ambler.
The surprise on Shane's face said it all. Jack tackled Shane leaving him face up on the ground. After some cursing from Shane, Jack could only say. "Surprise?" Just then a few other defensive linemen right on Jack's ass landed on top. This put Jack's face right up to Shane’s face. In fact, Jack could have dropped a luggie in Shane's mouth, but instead said, "Hey, thanks for including me with the reporters. Very accommodating of you." Jack's words were strained due to the six hundred pounds of beef on him, but they did sound very sincere.
Seconds later, the pile of padded bodies evaporated as everyone stood back up and started to huddle up again. The Mavericks had lost 8 yards from the sacking. One of defensive guards slapped Jack on the back and said, "Merry Christmas Jack."
Once the huddle formed Jack took on a look of gratitude and said, "Thanks guys, that was a great present. Do you think you could do that again?"
Phil yelled in mock anger, "Gawd damn Jack. We love you too much to refuse you, but we're all going to need to switch sides. Even stupid Mavericks won't fall for the same trick twice."
Sure enough, the wolverines defensive lined up in reverse and ran the same identical play. As before Jack used his suit to slip though the Maverick offense line and take down Shane a 2nd time.
The play ended up with Jack on top of Shane once again. Jack didn't offer any snarky comments to Shane this time, but Jack was kind enough to help top heavy Shane back up on his feet.
About this time, the Mavericks called a time out. Everyone on the Wolverine side knew what was happening. The Mavericks offensive coach was yelling at his offensive line.
Meanwhile, the Wolverine defensive lineman stayed huddled up. Phil slapped Jack on the back and said. "So, how are you doing Tiny Tim? Enjoying your Christmas surprise?"
Jack couldn't resist. "God Bless Us Every One"
Meanwhile, Coach Harrison and the defensive coach could ear everything going on in the huddle. The Middle Linebacker had a two way radio in his helmet. With a puzzled look on his face, Coach Harrison looked accusingly at the defensive coach and asked, "Why are they performing A Christmas Carol? This is football -- not community theater."
The defensive coach could only shrug his shoulders in bewilderment.
Back in the huddle the time out was about to expire. Jack grinned. "The third time's the charm guys. Just hold the line."
The huddles broke and the lines formed up. Once again Shane started to call out his audibles and the offensive line changed configuration. Jack watched with interest as he realized he was the target of the next play. As the ball snapped, Jack backed up as the defensive line remeshed to protect Shane from Jack. The ball had now been passed off to the Maverick’s fullback. Jack ran towards the fullback whom was winding around the line opposite of Jack.
Most of the Maverick’s offensive line was now tied up on the wrong side trying to stop protect Shane. Jack quickly penetrated the other side and headed straight into the fullback. This would have been good enough, but taking down the fullback wasn't Jack's goal. Jack ran smack into the fullback head on and blew away the fullback's momentum. The Maverick fullback was now going backwards riding on Jack's shoulders. Jack was bulldozing the fullback right into Shane. Finally, Jack stopped on a dime to watch the two players collide and fall to the ground in pile.
As luck would have it the fullback got the wind knocked out of him and the ball fell out of his hands. Phil picked up the ball and started ran like a freakish huge hill troll to the end zone. A few Mavericks tried to stop Phil, but they were easy pickings for Jack and his buds.
During the remainder of the half, the Mavericks kept getting owned by the Wolverines. With their supplement loaded pads, Bruce and Shane couldn't keep up with Jack's speed and ability to maneuver. The worst play was when Jack bulldozed Bruce into his own brother. In any case, Jack offered his hand to help Bruce to his feet. Shane was no longer in the mood for pleasantries at this point.
Eventually, the halftime horn went off and Jack headed towards the locker rooms. The score was fifteen to seven with the Wolverines in the lead. I grabbed Jack's elbow and said. "Oh no, Tiny Tim. I have my own little Christmas present for you." Talk of the defenses’ presentation of "A Christmas Carol" had spread throughout the team. I led Jack into the tunnel with the other players, but we took a small detour to a side room. I had the room set up a nice 46 inch LCD TV with two folding chairs. It was centered on the stage for the Maverick homecoming event. I'd sat down and gestured for Jack to sit in the seat next to me.
"You know, it's really funny that a minor league team has a homecoming, but then again small towns can be quite twisted." I took out the program for the game and pointed. "Oh look, it appears that Shane Ambler has been voted homecoming King. Isn't that great?"
Jack just looked back at Coach Bailey with an expression of complete confusion.
---
Meanwhile, Brent and Shane were at the protein solution pumping station.
"Poindexter, can't this thing go any faster. I have to be up there in a minute."
With a sly smile Brent said. "Yeah, there's a turbo pumping button, but I haven't used it. I guess this is as good of time as any." With that Brent pushed the turbo pump button on the station.
The tubing to Shane's shoulder pads jumped in response to the turbo pumping. Within seconds Shane started to swell far larger than he ever intended. With pounds of weight being added in seconds, Shane started to look concerned. "Dude, shut this thing down. I'm getting too big." Indeed, Shane’s pads were riding up on his shoulders and starting to reach his ears. Next, the neck role of his shoulder pads started plump up like Angelina Jolie's lips. The neck role didn't stop expanding as it continued to take the excess protein solution as it inflated like a miniature emergency rubber raft. Once, the neck roll was full, the muscle suit started to take the excess solution in the arms and chest. "Damn it Poindexter, shut this shit off." By now Shane’s arms had taken all they could. Even Shane’s Under Armour shirt was starting to protest from all the pressure from the muscle suit.
"Found it." Brent said with a victorious smile. As Brent turned to look at Shane he could only say. "Oh my!"
The damage had been done. Shane looked pretty ridiculous like some nightmarish offseason bodybuilder minus the roidgut. "Shit dude, you're gonna have to drain me."
"Well, we don't have time for that now. You need to get up there on stage right now." Brent’s point was underscored as the music for the homecoming ceremony had just started. "Wait a moment, loose thread." Brent ripped out a small string from behind Shane’s pants. It didn't seem important at the time, but Brent couldn't contain a dirty smirk.
Shane had just enough time to run to the base of the stage and meet up with Amber Hollingsworth. Shane knew well how rich Amber's parents were, so getting in her best graces would assure him a rich future. In any case, she was pretty good looking and probably a good fuck. Shane took Ambers hand, and they walked up the stairs. The ceremony began with the announcements of the homecoming king and queen.
Brent just stood next to the stage for the inevitable. Shane was pretty top heavy now with over a hundred pounds of protein supplement. He almost looked as though he had lost his balance using the stairs on the way up the stage.
---
Coach Bailey watched the video screen while Jack politely feigned interest. After a moment, Jack pointed to the screen and said. "Dude what's up with his pads?"
"Well Jack, Shane is locked and loaded. He has dozens of cameras on him, and his suit is way over the recommended dosage of protein solution." With that, Coach Bailey pressed a few buttons on his remote. "Now watch."
Jack watched as Shane almost jumped. The ceremony was already in full swing with a full overview of the town’s history and timed music. Shane was trying to look normal, but he reached behind himself and groped between his own ass cheeks. Moments later Shane started to shift his weight from foot to foot. From Jack's trained eye and experience with the suit, it was obvious Shane was having his cock milked in front of thousands of people. At the same, something else was up with Shane. "Okay, I gave up coach. What's happening to him?"
"That first jolt was me pressurizing his butt plug. It's going to need to be nice and tight for all the pumping. Now we're pumping his shoulder pads full of air Jack. See, they're already overloaded with protein solution, so the air is forcing the protein solution out the pads and into Shane’s butt. I think you're gonna see a nice pooch on his muscled abs within moments." Sure enough, just as predicted, Shane's belly started to pooch out over the belt of his football pants. At first it wasn't detectable with his giant shoulders, but after a minute Shane's belly started to resemble a roid gut. Even his abs started to become visible through the jersey as his belly grew larger with the excessive bull cum. Some people in the audience started to notice and make comments.
Coach Bailey pressed a few more buttons. Over the next minute Shane’s balls started to blossom to their uncompressed size. The string Brent had pulled earlier weakened the corset structure of the ball sock. Shane could feel his nuts expanding in his athletic cup, but he could no longer see his own jock. His bloated belly prevented him from an easy inspection. He wanted to check himself out with a grope, but all the cameras prevented him from doing such a Neanderthal act.
From the front, the increase of Shane's nuts from lemons to tennis balls took only moments. After another twenty seconds Shane's ball sack took on the size of a pair of oranges and showed no sign of stopping. The people that had missed Shane's newly bloated gut couldn't possibly miss Shane's expanding package. Shane exhaled in relief as the corset seams around his nuts started to rip, but this allowed his nuts to bloat even faster. The design of the Maverick football pants simply highlighted Shane's misshapen tactical as they approached grape fruit size. Shane was forced to shift his weight from foot to foot as the milking tube was still milking him ferociously.
After a few button presses from Coach Bailey, Shane's nuts stabilized to the size of footballs. Shane's scrotum was forced to adjust with one massive nut between his butt cheeks and the other massive nut in front of his legs. The spandex material of Shane's football pants cupped each nut obscenely. This gave Shane's scrotum the look of a sideways pit-bull scrotum.
Coach Bailey looked over to Jack whose eyes were now totally glued to the screen. "You know Jack, I've pressed every button on this remote except for the one circled in red."
Jack turned his head, looked perplexed and finally said, "Okay, this is obviously a Wonka reference, but I'm gonna bite." Jack pressed the button with no hesitation.
Shane wasn't doing too well. He'd been sacked several times during the game. His team was losing during homecoming. His butthole felt like he'd been violated by a horse dick. His gut was bloated with protein supplement. His cock continued to piss dick sauce with no signs of stopping. Finally, the support sock holding his nuts to lemon size had disintegrated. In any case, Shane knew if he just remained calm he'd be able to ride this out. After all, it couldn't get any worse.
Suddenly, Shane felt some weird vibrations from his shoulder pads. At first he thought he was imagining it, but then the tubing leading down his body started to giggle as though thick heavy liquid was being pumped. At first Shane simply believe he's blown another load in his milking tube, but his spooge wasn't getting drained this time. Actually, his own spooge was overfilling the milking tube and spilling into his athletic rubber.
Shane tried to remedy the situation by giggling his crotch with a pelvic thrust, but he only resulted in bruising his hugely bloated football sized nuts. Within seconds the crotch of his football pants was visibly bloated with the inflating athletic rubber. The spooge was thick and heavy. Shane could feel his crotch starting to sag from the weight of his own warm sports gravy.
People were now laughing at the Homecoming King and his rapidly blimping crotch. Shane could only stand helpless there while his spooge filled the space between his football sized nuts. Luckily his belt was holding out. He's hate to have his pants fall down from the weight of his own spooge. Shane was sure the spooge would stop filling his rubber, but it didn't. He never realized he was getting pumped from all the spooge stored from his own shoulder pads. Soon, Shane could hear a few stitches in his football pants start to pop. A few here and there, but they were loud like firecrackers. Shane looked down and could now see his crotch over his bloated belly. His zipper was keeping his crotch from stretching too much vertically, but it appeared to be suffering from the extreme weight of Shane’s jock.
Now Amber Hollingsworth started to notice Shane’s engorged crotch. Shane's crotch looked as if someone had shoved a children's bouncing ball in his pants and over inflated it. His bloated crotch was now hanging past his knees forcing Shane's legs to straddle his own bloated crotch. Shane could hear more cameras snapping pictures as the homecoming queen stood and pointed.
"Pozzzzt.... Zzzzzzzzzzzppppp" Shane looked down as he realized in horror that his zipper on his football pants had broken open and the teeth had ripped apart. Within a fraction of a moment, his athletic supporter poured forth from his football pants as the pressurized spooge in his athletic rubber took the path of least resistance. For a few moments, Shane's Athletic supporter held back the ever encroaching rubber, but it lost the battle. First the left ass strap popped free, leaving the right ass strap to painfully ride up Shane’s muscled buttcrack. Shane finally gave into to pride and tried to hold back the rubber with his hands. At this point, Shane could hear laughter erupting from the audience. One guy even shouted. "Hey, this is homecoming -- not homecuming." Just then Shane's right ass strap broke. The durable athletic rubber had to choice but to ooze out of Shane’s broken zipper hole. Despite his hands blocking the zipper hole, the rubber kept finding gaps and more liquid backed rubber flowed out the zipper hole.
People were horrified as they watched Shane's athletic rubber flow forth like the blob from of the crotch of his football pants. The edges of the broken zipper were digging into the delicate athletic rubber. With nothing to impede it athletic rubber grew and swelled like an obscene pumpkin-shaped fruit filled with Shane's own white frothy seed. Shane could only watch in horror as more semen rushed out of his crotch to fill the rubber further. By now there was no stopping it. Shane could barely hear Amber making sounds of disgust. She was getting off the stage to get away from Shane, but turned around for one final look.
The top of the broken zipper cut in the rubber scoring a small hole. At first, it was a little leak, but the rubber tore in an unexpected way as it lost its integrity. Gallons of rank cum spattered all over Amber Hollingsworth and her silk dress. With the rupture and remaining pressure, the rubber gave up the ghost and disintegrated entirely leaving Shane's football pants loaded with gallons of cum. Without the athletic rubber, Shane's stiff cock was now visible to everyone though the zipper hole of his football pants. Shane's own cum flowed down his pants into his socks and shoes. Even his cock managed a magnificent spurt and hit Amber one last time in the face.
Shane's pride at an all time low he gave up on trying to protect his modesty, but this didn't stop the photographer from snapping more pictures.
---
As Coach Bailey pressed yet another button, Shane could finally feel his butt plug deflating at a record pace. Within moments, protein solution started to flow out of Shane’s asshole accompanied with a furious choral of sloppy farts and toots. Shane was dumping his protein load in his football pants.
After a moment, Jack turned to coach Bailey. "Uh, don't you think you were just a bit hard on him?"
________________________________
Jack Strom part 8
In record time Brent stepped in and helped Shane off the stage. "We've got to get you cleaned up bud. The second half is going to start in no time." The smell of Shane's cum was incredibly pungent. Brent had brought a towel to cover Shane's swollen rod, but that didn't help him hide his own bulge. Watching Shane get destroyed in such a brief time had gotten him close to blowing a load right there on the spot -- too close.
Shane waddled along with his swollen football sized balls. Brent led him towards the lockers. Shane was in shock and disbelief of what had happened. In any case, Brent just kept pushing Shane along. Occasionally more cum would pour from Shane’s athletic rubber in a thick continuous streams. Even Shane's cleats were making squishing noises as air and cum were forced out of the lace holes with every step. Half way to the locker room was the entrance to the parking lot.
"Hey, let's clean you up in my van. You don't want the other guys to see you this way." Brent then pushed Shane towards the back of the van.
"Uh... right. Tell my brother. Wut..." Shane ass let out a few more blurps of protein solution as his bloated bowels continued to empty themselves.
Finally, they reached the van and Brent opened the doors. As Shane stepped up and got in, Brent just pushed Shane's soiled ass forward. Shane collapsed face down on the padded floor. A pin prick on Shane's neck ensured the jock wouldn't be waking up for quite some time.
Brent just looked at the once mighty football player. Shane was now humiliated and powerless. "Well, one down and three to go."
---
News of Shane Ambler's cum-plosion quicky reached the ears of Coach Smith the head coach of the Mavericks. Even after having the story repeated three times, he couldn't believe his ears or the erection he was getting from the retellings. "We're going to have to do some damage control really fast." Coach Smith then directed his defense coach to speak to the team while he took Bruce aside from the rest of the team.
Very quickly the team was told that Shane had slipped on stage and had sprung something. Coach Smith told Bruce the same line too. It was a pretty clever white lie since it was essentially the truth. However, the team was told very grimly to NOT speak to Bruce on this subject until the game was over.
Coach Smith returned with Bruce Ambler to the rest of the team. Bruce could sense something different, but couldn't quite put his finger on it. Coach Smith quickly gave his final words to the team before the beginning of the second half.
---
Coach Bailey turned to look at Jack. "What do you mean Jack? Those guys knew exactly what they were doing when they stole those suits. Hell, they could have injured you during that theft a few days ago. They're simply receiving what's due."
Jack looked down at the ground for a moment, and then he brought those green eyes to bear on me. "I don't want this to get out of control. Sure, get at them during this game, but make sure it ends there."
I diverted my gaze and just said. "Well, that might be a bit hard to do there Jack. Brent is my inside man on the Mavericks. He's been working on this project with me for years. He has some bones to still pick with Kippy and the Amblers. I'm pretty sure Kippy will be left alone after the game. Besides Jack, you're not in a position to dictate to me."
"The hell I'm not. Sure, I'm not holding a fucking remote like you, but I know right from wrong and when things have gone too far." Jack accented his point by banging a closed fist against his chest. "You need to listen to your own heart coach. I'll help you recover the suits, but let those Amblers go after the game. This has to stop."
"You're going to have to convince Brent too Jack. I'll side with you, but you need to bring Brent to your side yourself." After a moment, I added. "I'd never use the remote against you Jack. I should have chosen my words more carefully. ...and what of Kippy?"
A flash of anger passed across Jack's face. "To hell with Kippy! He revealed himself once I found out about the playbooks. No more time for talk Coach. Let's go and play the second half of this game."
---
After the kickoff, Jack and Phil found themselves facing Bruce Ambler on the line again. Even without his brother, Bruce wasn't letting up. Bruce had the advantage of weight on both Jack and Phil. Instead of being dazzled by Jack's ability to move and block, Bruce now concentrated on grabbing Jack and pummeling him into the ground. This new tactic was effective too since it kept Jack from making a difference in the game.
During huddle several of the other Wolverines offered to switch out with Jack, but Jack wouldn't hear of it. Jack looked over at the Mavericks huddle to see Bruce leering straight at him. Jack now knew that those dirty Mavericks were up to something. This wasn't about keeping Jack busy -- it was about keeping Jack leery. Jack looked at the Middle Linebacker and told him to radio the sideline. "Tell Coach Bailey, this next play is going to be key." The message went through fine, but Jack just hoped his hunch was right.
The players lined up and the ball was snapped. But instead of coming at Jack, Bruce backed up as the Mavericks offensive line quickly meshed up the open hole. Suddenly, Jack saw the whole play in his head. They were going to give Bruce the ball. Bruce was already a Juggernaut, but this play could devastate the Wolverines.
As the quarter back passed the ball to Bruce something unusual started happening. A loud hissing start to come from Bruce's football uniform. All the players on both teams stopped as Bruce became the center of attention. At first Bruce's arms started to thicken followed by his legs. Bruce tried to run with the ball, but the inflated muscle suit quickly slowed him down to a stop. Within moments the linebacker's arms and legs had thickened to the point where any movement was impossible. Bruce was helpless as the game ball fell from his right hand. Bruce's football uniform started bloating in the hips and mid section. The belt of his pants and the girdle of his shoulder pads kept the muscle suit at bay, but this only cause the rest of his football uniform to take in more gas.
At this point Bruce looked like a parody of a body builder balloon, but that didn't last. A few seconds late the double D rings on his football pants belt failed with a deep thud. Now his belly rushed forward unchecked. A second later Bruce's' uniform started to fill even faster with a renewed effort. Next, the girdle of Bruce’s shoulder pads fell victim to the inflating muscle suit. With nothing holding back Bruce’s mid section, he started to become more oblong like a football. Despite the size of Bruce's uniform, it wasn't accustomed to being stretched out so much. Random stitches started to blow as Bruce completely lost his male shape, but that wasn't the worst part. Bruce started to float.
Jack woke up from being mesmerized by the sight. Bruce focused his eyes on Jack with a plea for help.
Jack knew exactly what he had to do. He quickly gained speed and rammed Bruce with all his might. Jack was surprised how hard Bruce's muscle suit was. It felt like he was ramming a large over pressurized football. The noise of the impact reminded Jack of the sound of a punter's kick, but things got more interesting as Bruce's Maverick football uniform was now ripping at the seams. Even though it could cost him a penalty Jack hung on to the tatters of Bruce's as both football players went airborne into the air.
Bruce and Jack whooshed across the field. They looked like some crazy cloud raining pieces of Bruce's football gear. Only Bruce's shoulder pads and cleats had survived the inflation. His pants and jersey were now rags scattered across the field. After reaching a maximum height of 24 feet, both players started a rapid decent. Jack did his best to stay on top as he steered Bruce to hit the ground. The impact had to be just right. As Jack had hoped, the pressure and his own added weight were too much for the suit. Bruce's backside split open as his muscle suit burst like a fatigued balloon. Both men were looking right at each other eye to eye with Bruce on bottom and Jack on top. After half a second later, Bruce surprised the hell out of Jack by laughing at Jack. It was a labored laugh since Bruce was out of breath, but it was contagious. Jack started to laugh too giving everyone the impression from afar the two men were in conflict. A few seconds later, Jack got up and offered Bruce his hand. Bruce's ass was a bit visible through the rip in the muscle suit giving Jack a glimpse of Bruce's still intact jockstrap. Bruce just looked at Jack and said. "I deserved that."
"Well, maybe a little, but I didn't want you to float away." Jack smiled. "We need to get with your brother bud. He's going to need our help. I won't let anything happen to you Bruce. Just follow me."
While Bruce was in the process of being the Hindenburg, Phil had grabbed the fumbled ball and made another touchdown. The touchdown made it easier for Jack and Bruce walk back towards the Maverick’s locker room unseen. The distraction made it possible for Bruce and Jack to slip into the back of Brent's nearby van. As they entered the van, they were immediately assaulted by the Shane's stench.
"Woah, what happened to my brother" Bruce looked really concerned. Finally, Bruce looked to Brent who was in the front seat of the van. "Brent, is he going to be okay?"
"Shane? Yeah, he'll wake up with a tiny headache. Actually, I used the good stuff. He won't even have a headache at all. Bruce, I'm trusting you won't do something stupid."
"Yeah, okay."
"I'll be back in a few minutes. I have one last errand."
---
Coach Smith, the head coach of the Mavericks was in a frenzy. Odd happenings had dogged him during this entire game, but he had one thing under his control. He walked straight up to Kippy and said, "Son, your friends are gone, and there's no need for you to be on this team. I'm cutting you right now. Now hit the showers." Coach Smith didn't want Kippy to turn into a third albatross around his neck and his instincts were usually right on the money.
Kippy looked pretty disappointed, but considering the night’s proceedings and his meager chances of actually getting to play, it wasn't such a loss. Kippy just shuffled his way back to the locker. The last thing Kippy remembered was meeting up with Brent and a prick to his neck.
Even with Jack gone, the Wolverines easily steamrolled the Mavericks. The loss of their two star players destroyed any remaining moral. After the game, the Wolverines were instructed to stay in the locker room in full gear for special instructions from Coach Harrison.
---
Kippy woke up in the middle of the Wolverine locker room. All his ex-team mates were there looking right at him. Half of them even had grins or smirks on their face. As Kippy turned to his left and saw a hastily made banner with the words "Good Luck Kippy". To Kippy's right there was a huge two tiered cake and a few gallons of whole milk. Kippy felt something different about himself. He started to realize that someone had taken off his muscle suit and redressed him.
Kippy started to get up when Phil came up from behind and reseated him by placed the right amount of weight on his shoulder. "So Kippy, Coach Harrison wanted us to make sure we sent you off in style." Phil handed Kippy a big slice of cake and said. "Eat up!"
After taking his first bite of cake most of the guys on the team took their eyes off of Kippy and started talking about the victory. The cake was very rich and dense. After a few bites Kippy put down his cake.
Phil picked up the plate and gave it to Kippy again. "Oh no Kippy, we want you to finish your cake. Now go ahead and open up." Phil started to hand feed Kippy one bite at a time. Phil patiently gave Kippy more cake until the slice was gone. "You know, Coach had this cake made special for you. Instead of flour, it was made with super enriched weight gain powder. Now drink your milk Kippy."
Kippy looked flustered, but started to get up. "Well, guys, thanks for the cake, but..."
"Oh no Kippy, you can't leave. You'll need to finish all your cake. ...all twenty thousand calories of it. Right guys?" All the team members stopped talking and all started to look at Kippy. None of the team members were wearing smiles anymore.
Kippy made a fast bolt for the door, but only made it half way. He was tackled by half a dozen guys, as Phil gave the order. "Okay guys, string him up." A sling for Kippy was improvised using rope and athletic tape. Next, Phil got out a blender and a funnel. Looks like we're going to have to force feed you your cake. One of the other team members starting throwing chunks of cake in the blender and filled the spaces with whole milk. The blender started to churn out its rich-n-gooey fare.
A few of the guys gathered around as Phil grabbed the funnel and tried to put it down Kippy's throat but he resisted. "Well, Kippy it wasn't like we didn't anticipate this." Phil just shoved his hand under Kippy's belt and grabbed his nuts. After a few painful squeezes, the jock opened his mouth for the funnel.
The first pitcher of weight gain was the most awkward, but Kippy soon developed a rhythm. Within forty minutes two-thirds of the cake was gone. Kippy was a site to behold. Before, Kippy had lost much of his muscle definition with the fattening Brent had given him, but his abs were still visible. After forty minutes of forced feeding, Kippy's gut looked like half a beach ball had been stuffed in his gut. Several of the team members were now taking turns rubbing and patting Kippy's stretched gut. Kippy was sweating profusely from the forced bloat too.
Finally, Phil raised up Kippy's jersey and took at look at his gi-normous belly. Kippy's abs were barely visible as though they'd been painted on his bloated stomach. "Man Kippy, I think you should say goodbye to those abs." Phil kissed Kippy's belly in jest. "You really need to finish your cake, but you're belly is so fat now. Looks like we're going to need to help you stuff your cake directly into your digestive system. Some guy gave us a machine to help us. He said you'd know him as Poindexter."
On of the Wolverines wheeled out a device with a tank. After blending up all the cake and the remaining milk, it was all poured into the machine. Phil carefully tucked in Kippy's jersey back into his Mavericks pants. "Yeah Kippy, we're going to make you the biggest Mavericks ever." The attachment at the end of the hose was inserted into Kippy's butthole so that more weight gain formula was ready to be pumped right up Kippy's ass. "...oh, and Poindexter told us to add this." Phil took out a vile of blue liquid and added it to the tank before sealing it up.
The whole football team watched with interest as the machine was switched on. Within 10 minutes all the solution was pumped into Kippy's now bloated butt.
Phil just stood back and said. "Okay guys, he's eaten his cake. Let's keep to our word." Kippy was let loose and everyone just watched him in earnest.
Kippy looked around in disbelief, but then started to feel strange. His Mavericks uniform was soaked with his own sweat, but something inside of him felt unbearable as pressure built up. It took some effort, but Kippy made a step towards the door. That's when it started to happen.
All the Mavericks were quiet as noise came from Kippy's gut. It sounded like a faint sound of over expansion like when a balloon gets too tight. The team watched as Kippy's Mavericks uniform started to become a bit tighter. Any remaining wrinkles in the jersey and pants started to disappear as Kippy's torso became more corpulent. Even Kippy's neck started to thicken as he grew a double chin. Kippy's ass started grew too starting with the right butt cheek follow by the left. The spandex rear of Kippy's pants was totally stretched out. Finally, Kippy's legs and calves followed suit. At this point, Kippy looked really jacked.
Skippy’s growth continued, but it started to become obvious his ass and chest were now sagging under its own weight. Kippy wasn't getting muscled -- he was getting super fat. The threads holding together Skippy’s pants started appear along the seam lines. Also, his jersey was having problems containing his growing belly. The front of Kippy's bloating belly was flat where his belly button still maintained a divot. The jersey would have popped up over his belly, but Phil had very carefully tucked it in. Some of the Wolverine football players started to laugh once Kippy's ass took on another round of growth. The room filled with tears and popping as the rear panels of his pants start to rip apart from the failed stitching. Soon, patches of Kippy's now chubby body were visible. Some of the team members started to rub themselves as Kippy's jersey started to rip apart too. After a while even portions of his legs as they freed themselves from the oppressive Mavericks pants. With nothing stretching out Skippy’s crotch, the zipper stayed surprisingly intact.
Before, Kippy had been always kept his body tight and muscular. Now Kippy resembled an out of shape sumo wrestler. His Mavericks uniform was in ruins which didn't matter anymore. One of the more sympathetic teammates helped Kippy to the door.
Kippy wasn't going to be playing football for quite some time.
---
During the ride to the ranch Jack gave Bruce an overview of Shane's homecoming show. Jack was really surprised to see Bruce laughing -- especially when he mentioned Amber Hollingsworth.
Upon arriving at the ranch, Brent got out and warily opened the rear door of the van. Expecting the worse, he only saw Bruce and Jack carefully picking up Shane to bring him in. Their distaste of Shane's smell was pretty obvious. "Wow guys, it he smell that bad?"
Jack and Bruce exchanged looks and said in unison, "Yes!" They continued to carry Shane in the direction Brent ushered them.
Jack finally asked. "So what are you planning on doing with Shane?"
Brent thought for a moment and said, "Well, Dr. Bailey explained your position on not being vindictive. I think I'm going to return him mostly to normal, but I'll make the process just a bit humiliating. Bruce, I'm sorry, but your brother is due a huge helping of humble pie."
Starting in a half chuckle, Bruce responded with some emotion, "Yeah, I agree with you there, but please Brent, don't hurt my brother. I know he's an ass, but he means so much to me. He's always been my big brother, and perhaps I protect him too much. I know that now. Just don't hurt him."
From the look on his face, Brent was truly touched by Bruce's plea. "Okay big guy, I'll make sure he's okay. He's going to need to be drained of his excess fluids. Without the protein solution, he'll mostly return to normal. Well, I'm not too sure about those balls. Damn! Even I never thought they'd get that big."
They all arrived in one of the more secluded labs on the ranch. Brent had Jack and Bruce fasten Shane to the bars of a large cage. It almost looked like a jail cell. In any event Shane would wake up as a prisoner.
Brent turned to the others, "Now you two just leave. I want to have my last fun with this ass. Maybe he'll even learn my name."
Bruce just groaned, "High hopes you have there Brent."
Jack looked over to Bruce and said, "Hey, let's go grab a burger."
Bruce replied, "Sweet! Hey, I want to take you by my place first. I have something you'd like to see."
After an hour, a groggy Shane woke up to find himself a prisoner in a cell. He had no idea how he gotten there, what happened before, and why he was in his football uniform pants soaked with his own stink with his limp cock sticking out the front. Shane's jersey and shoulder pads had been removed. After a few minutes, the happenings of the night finally caught up to him. Like being hit with a frying pan, Shane had realized he'd lost everything. The game, Amber Hollingsworth and the supplement contact were now all lost. Shane even wondered where his brother was. Surely Bruce must be working to get him out. Just then, Brent entered the lab.
"Well, wakie wakie sleepy head. Looks like you're going to be staying with me FOREVER!" Brent opened the door of the cell and walked in. He crouched down and started to poke Shane in his over juiced pecs. "Looks like you'll be springing a leak if we don't get you milked soon."
Shane glared his eyes and spoke. "You'd better fucking let me go if you know what's good for you. My brother will find me and kick your ass."
Brent calmly tilted his head. "Yeah, don't you think your brother has had enough of you Shane? He's worked his whole life covering your ass. You know, he just might be getting a bit tired of you. Besides, him and Jack just left you here. I think they said they're gonna grab a burger."
Shane's eyes grew wide. "That's impossible Poindexter. Bruce would never hang out with Jack. You're lying!"
"Whatever Shane. My name's Brent by the way." Brent grinned. "Hey, I'm a problem solver, and I see a way to solve two problems at the same time."
Shane looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Well, one of our cows died during birth after delivering twins. I'm guessing you see where this is leading." Brent stood up and crossed his arms.
"Wait! Poin... Uh... Brent"
Brent left the lab and came back a few minutes later with two young calves and a goat. "Hey, it looks like Trixie wanted come along too." Brent then carefully led the two calves to Shane's cell. He didn't have to do much more because once the calves spotted Shane's juicy jugs. They went to work immediately sucking away at Shane's man tits.
Shane went hysterical as the calves started to feast. However, Brent was more interested in what was happening to Shane's cock. As the calves sucked away, all that nipple play made Shane's cock rock hard. That's when Trixie the goat got interested.
"Hey Shane, looks like that nip action is really giving you quite the Jolly Roger." Trixie started to lick Shane's over bloated tool like a lollypop. After a while, the goat actually started to blow Shane's cock like a pro in order to harvest that salty precum and semen. Shane was still hysterical from the attacks on his nipples, but the action on his cock made him start to buck his hips uncontrollably.
"Yeah Shane, looks like you've made some good friends there. Maybe for once you won't lose them." Brent just left the room to leave Shane alone with his new found friends. Shane was helpless in the midst of his own hysterical yelling and moanings.
---
After two hours Jack and Bruce found Shane secured in the same cage, but it was the oddest sight. Shane was sleeping with a look of bliss on his face. Next, to him were two newborn calves huddling next to him on either side. Both calves were fast asleep and sated. Between Shane's legs was a sleeping goat. Shane's nuts had been milked down to the size of tennis balls. The goat turned questioningly to look at Bruce and Jack and let out a loud bleat.
The loud bleat startled Shane out of his sleep. After a moment he focused his eyes and saw Jack and Bruce. "What?!? That bastard pencil necked wasn't lying. You two are plotting against me."
Jack walked closer and kneeled on one knee towards Shane and whispered so as to not wake up the sleeping calves. "Don't be so rude Shane. Introduce us to your new friends." Jack started to pet the goat's head by first offering his hand.
"Shut up Jack. You're a big nobody. Anything you say doesn't mean shit to me." Shane's raised voice woke up one of calves.
As if on queue, Jack took a large book he'd carried into the room. "Wow, I'm surprised to hear that. Bruce and I went by your apartment to pick this up. Jack opened up a photo album he'd carried into the room."
Upon seeing the photo album, Shane shot Bruce a dirty look. "Why'd you show him that?"
Bruce just grinned. "Shane, now's the time to fess up. You've always acted like you're better than everyone else, but your own selfishness never gave you anything good."
Jack looked at Shane straight on eye to eye. "Seriously Shane, I'm really surprised you kept all these news paper clippings of me. I've never been more honored to know that someone cared enough about me to do this."
Shane blushed and looked flustered. "Yeah... well, I was just trying to figure out why you get so much press. That's all."
Bruce just looked up at the ceiling and said. "Oh shit Shane, just tell him you have the hots for ole Jack. All three of us know it now. Nothing bad can come of it. The sky has already fallen in on us now."
Jack continued in a congenial tone. "So, is that right Shane? Much of this macho act was because you wanted to impress me?"
Shane was still quite blushed. "I'm gonna kick your ass Bruce. You were never supposed to tell anyone about this!" After a small pause Shane continued. "Yeah, I've always had a thing for you Jack."
The awake calf went back to sleep still drowsy from its full belly.
Jack smiled at the sleeping calf and proceeded to release Shane from the handcuffs. "Bruce and I have spoken to Brent. He's still a bit pissed. After all, you guys tried to steal his life's work, but I think he's willing to just let things slide."
Shane gingerly got up with Jack's help. The happenings of the night had left him quite sore and weakened. "There's nothing left to gain. Bruce and I have probably been kicked off the Mavericks and everyone in that town would rather spit on us than help us. Hell, it was that way BEFORE the game."
Jack placed his other hand on Shane's shoulder. "You two should live with me. I just lost a roommate could use some help with my rent. I'm guessing you guys would like a change of venue anyways."
Shane looked down and answered. "Yeah, maybe.".
Just then Bruce punched the shit out of Shane's right shoulder. "Come on Shane. Courtesy is free, but it can buy you a lot."
Shane looked Jack in the eyes and finally said. "Thanks Jack. A second chance would be super."
Jack looked about warily. "Let's get the hell out of here before Brent changes his mind. Also, if you see Brent again NEVER call him Poindexter."
Shane gave a smile to Jack and nodded.