Crack the Code, ch. 3: Track and Field

Nick was starting to think he’d made a mistake.  As he looked around the locker room, his cock twitching in his thin little shorts, he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have been so impulsive.  At first he’d thought the weird vibe he picked up from the other guys was merely a result of what had already been done to himself, but that clearly wasn’t the case as the flustered young jock could see very noticeable changes taking place in the lean, wiry men around him.  Nick told himself yet again that they wouldn’t have minded if they’d known.  They were all sick of Coach’s constant, hyper aggression, and the Codebreaker had assured him that everyone would be perfectly happy and healthy when it was all said and done, so in his mind he was doing them all a favor.

After all, Nick was the one who took it upon himself to find the Codebreaker and schedule the appointment.  While everyone else was content to simply bitch about the middle-aged bulldog’s sour attitude, he was the only one willing to take any initiative to actually do something about it.  They’d talked amongst themselves about trying to talk to someone higher up in the Athletics Department, but they knew that would only make their lives even harder.  The Coach had always been an asshole, it wasn’t a secret, and Nick doubted that a fresh crop of new meat on the track team would get better results than anyone who came before them.  The older guys on the team, the ones who hadn’t been driven away by a constant barrage of shouted insults over the years, told the younger ones to just ignore Coach, but Nick could see how even they bristled more than usual lately.

He’d even been willing to pay for it all himself, though it was immediately obvious that the meager amount in his checking account couldn’t come close to meeting even the lowest rate the Codebreaker offered.  He couldn’t even technically afford the meeting.  Fortunately for all of them, the mysterious service offered a reduced rate as long as he was willing to flex a little on the specifics, and as long as everyone was willing to chip in.  Since he was doing this for the team Nick had agreed on their behalf, but he didn’t fully understand what that meant until it came time for a demonstration.

The whole process had seemed frustratingly vague and nebulous.  Nick didn’t know if the Codebreaker, a name he’d originally found ridiculous, was talking in generalities for legal reasons or to avoid implicating himself in any potential crimes.  All the man behind the desk kept saying was that he could solve peoples’ problems, no matter how big or small.  When Nick described the issues they were having with Coach, the Codebreaker just shrugged and said it was actually an easy request.  Instead of getting him fired or humiliated the way Nick had hoped, the Codebreaker surprised him by instead suggesting they give the older man exactly what he wanted.  Since he was always ranting at the team about how he wished they could be “real men” and “not a bunch of hairless pussies,” they’d grant his wish.  Still not knowing what any of that really meant, Nick had agreed.  In his mind, he thought the Codebreaker was going to send some big beefy guys to rough Coach up or at least scare the hell out of the older man, but he’d since learned that the process would be nowhere near as mundane.

The itching had started almost as soon as he’d walked out of the Codebreaker’s office, a whole-body sensation of crawling skin.  By the time he’d made it back to his dorm Nick’s wiry frame tingled from head-to-toe, but it wasn’t until he found himself casually stripping down that he realized the cause.  For almost the entirety of his twenty two years on the planet, the brunette’s whipcord frame had always been naturally smooth.  He had a dusting of chocolate hair in the usual places - under his arms, along his forearms, at the base of his abdomen, around his toned legs - and his stomach dropped when he saw that the hair had somehow begun to spread.  Dark, silky sprouts peppered his modest pecs, creeping along the lines of his ample definition as they flowed down his shredded washboard to connect with their existing brethren at the top of his sturdy thighs.  Nick blushed when he tore out of his boxer briefs and saw a wiry dusting adorning his perky bubble, his thoughts immediately turning towards what his furry frame would look like trotting around a track.  There were a few hairy guys on the team but they always kept themselves relatively manscaped, a process that Nick was neither experienced with nor prepared for.

It was then that the full weight of what he’d done began to register, a sinking recognition of where, exactly, the “real men” that Coach sought were going to come from.  It wasn’t at all what he’d anticipated, but even as Nick started to think about reaching back out to possibly stop what he’d started, the idea vanished.  He still, vaguely, remembered the Codebreaker.  He still remembered that they’d just had a meeting where he’d set it all in motion.  But connecting that knowledge with action proved impossible.  Like the opposing poles of a magnet, Nick’s brain refused to let the two connect, though the hairy brunette quickly realized he had more immediate concerns.

He’d been so focused on his altered appearance that he hadn’t given much thought to the fact that he’d gone rock hard, his six-and-a-half inches throbbing painfully, until his roommate, Bryan, walked through the door.  After months of sharing the tiny space they’d become accustomed to the sight of each other’s naked body, to the point where they’d stopped being embarrassed about their tented underwear in the morning, but Nick still froze.  Standing naked and hard and covered in hair should have been an unexpected discovery for his roommate, but the dark-skinned man had simply given him a friendly “‘sup dude” and flopped down onto his bed.

Nick’s eyes had darted around the room in search of his recently discarded boxer-briefs, when the rest of the Codebreaker’s terms bubbled to the fore of his frantic thoughts.  Since he hadn’t been able to even afford the meeting fee that the mysterious programmer normally charged, they’d agreed that Nick’s contribution to “the system” would be greater than the rest of the team’s.  Still thinking in terms of currency, the lean jock had gone along with the notion, figuring that he’d scrape the money together at some point.  It never occurred to him that the cost would be something much more fundamental.

He realized that he couldn’t recall what his underwear looked like.  He didn’t even remember wearing it.  Ever.  Nick’s stomach sank to the floor when he thought back on the previous days, weeks, months, and years, no longer seeing himself wearing anything other than his tiny, revealing running shorts.

The newly-haired jock would have been horrified, but when he turned to face Bryan again his priorities immediately shifted.  His roommate had his pants down and his arms folded behind his head as he stared at the naked runner, his thick cock rigid and ready.  Nick was confused since the other man should have been straight, and that confusion only grew when he found himself eagerly walking over, dropping to his knees, and swallowing the luscious organ.  He screamed at himself internally, though after a few musky bobs of his now-scruffy face Nick had to fight to remember why.  It all felt impossibly familiar.  Running his tongue along the contours of Bryan’s fat log, the way his neck moved and his lips grabbed; it didn’t even require conscious thought.  It was an act that happened often enough to encode itself in his muscles, and as Bryan groaned on and on about how happy he was to have such a weirdo roommate, and how Nick sucked him better than any girl on campus, the bobbing brunette remembered why.  Like his altered wardrobe, Nick saw himself performing similar acts, along with many, many others, on countless men, suddenly understanding that he spent most of his time with his hairy, whipcord frame entirely on display.  Somehow his uninhibited eagerness had become infectious, turning other men on whenever he was around regardless of their own sexual orientation.

Nick wanted to be mortified.  He’d never been uptight about his body or overly modest, and he’d always had a robust sex life, but never in his wildest fantasies had he pictured anything close to what his life had abruptly become.  Later in the evening, after spending the rest of the afternoon lounging naked in his dorm with the door open, he’d sauntered down the hall to the showers with nothing but a towel flung over his shoulder.  He’d showered with the curtain open, wincing at the foreign sensation of the damp fur clinging to his tight muscle even as he hoped for someone to come join him.  He hadn’t had to wait long until a beefy wall of muscle was in the stall with him, clutching fistfuls of his ample new chest hair while piledriving a short, wide cock into his firm bubble.

And, as drastic as all of those changes were, Nick hadn’t even reached the main part of the deal yet.  Being warped into a horny, cock-hungry exhibitionist had only been the meeting fee, and the flustered young jock worried about what he’d discover at practice that morning.  He’d been relieved to find most of his teammates as they should have been, though several sported a silky coating like himself, and many of those that didn’t when they’d arrived were itching noticeably throughout practice.  There was a tension in the air, and Nick caught his friends eyeing him and each other the way he’d eyed every man on campus he’d passed on his way to the field that morning.  In their revealing shorts the arousal was easy to see, though no one, Coach included, called anyone out for trotting around with an obvious erection.  They all just grinned, their smiles growing whenever the older man would bark out his usual insults.  Nick had even spotted what looked like the outline of the old man’s hard, wide cock in his khaki shorts, a sight that set off an odd fluttering in his stomach.

Now, back in the locker room, that fluttering continued as he looked at his increasingly unrecognizable teammates.  It wasn’t just that they’d all officially blossomed into hirsute hunks.  Blonde, black, russet, chocolate, ginger; the ample, silky pelts covered bodies that had begun to expand.  Nick gasped when he looked down at his own naked frame, his ripped abs having vanished entirely.  At first he thought it was just an effect of the obscuring carpet, but as he prodded the ballooning midsection he noticed the same growth taking place at his chest and thighs.  He was inflating all over, his formerly shapeless body taking on curves for the first time as his burly new muscle gut was counterbalanced by the heaping mounds of his meaty new rear.  His modest pecs now jutted out as a juicy slab between the muscled logs that were his arms, leaving him with a thick, hairy body that looked more suited for football than track.  An embarrassed, eager thrill shot through Nick when he thought about his altered wardrobe, and just how much more revealing his tiny shorts would be on the mountain of meat his body had become.

It was a shared problem.  All around him, a locker room that should have been filled with lean, bony young men had been invaded by brawny beefcakes.  Immediately to Nick’s right was Andy, a once-skeletal blonde who now looked like a lightweight bodybuilder.  The golden-haired hunk’s formerly thin frame now sported a layer of sculpted muscle, the plentiful striations buried beneath a curly, yellow forest.  To his left was Nate, a wiry ginger who’d previously been built like himself and who’d continued that trend as he’d expanded into a balding, burly brute whose unsculpted bulk sported a dense, copper carpet.  All three of them stared at each other, grinning, naked and hard, while the deepened, bellowing voices of the enlarged men around them began to echo throughout the locker room.

Even through the confusing daze of his own shocked stupor, Nick was relieved to hear friendly grunts and boisterous laughs instead of terrified cries.  So far, the Codebreaker appeared to be living up to his end of the bargain at least as it pertained to everyone being content with the outcome, and the rest of the deal was about to be put to the test.

The door to Coach’s office flew open as the middle-aged meathead stormed out.  “What the fuck are you pussies so happy about out here,” he barked.  “This morning’s times were terrible.  Fucking terrible!  Don’t know what the fuck I did to be punished with you little shits instead of some actual…goddamn…men…” he trailed off and froze, blinking rapidly as he looked at the naked, hairy hulks grinning back at him.

“Sorry Coach, what was that,” Nick asked, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them.  His body was on autopilot as he gave Andy and Nate a quick nod, the three of them stepping forward to box in the older man.  His two friends took up a spot at each of Coach’s arms while he stood close in front, the rest of the altered team gathering around to watch whatever was about to unfold.

The older man tensed, his rugged, bulldog face going purple beneath his salt-and-pepper stubble.  He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if searching for the words.  “I…I said I need to see some real men around here,” he sputtered, tensing when Nate and Andy each grabbed a brawny arm.

Nick grinned, his club of a cock throbbing as he looked at the blushing bull.  He’d never noticed how attractive Coach was beneath his blustering bravado, with the older man sporting the kind of broad, thick build they’d all developed.  He had a short, salt-and-pepper brillo pad for hair, and a firm, meaty shelf of a chest strained against his crimson polo, the tips of his nubby nipples pressing against the thin fabric as it strained around his barrel of a torso.  A prominent, lumpy muscle gut, a fat, round rear, powerful thighs, and a pair of arms that had always looked intimidatingly large, but which had suddenly become significantly less so by comparison, rounded out his stocky frame.  With his constant barking and previously imposing size advantage, they’d all been at least physically intimidated by the older bruiser, but now Nick just found him cute.  He jabbed his wide, rigid seven inches into Coach’s stomach while his friends did the same at his sides.  “What do you think those are?  Not real enough for you?  What about them,” the young brunette asked, motioning with an inflated arm to the crowd of hairy hulks around them.  His tone went firm as he continued talking, his meaty new hands drifting to the front of Coach’s shorts.  “Maybe we just don’t get it?  I mean, you’re the Coach.  Show us how it’s done,” he grunted, tearing the khakis open and sending them to the floor.  There was a low rumble of quiet chuckles from the crowd as the older man’s twitching gray briefs were exposed, his squat, girthy bulge suddenly looking as mediocre as the rest of him.  Coach gasped and tensed in the younger pairs’ arms but made no move to try and extricate himself as Nick continued.  “Huh.  Is this like a ‘those who can’t do, teach’ situation?  ‘Cause that’s not so impressive,” he said, giving the fat bulge a squeeze before pulling open the elastic waist and looking down inside.  He shook his head and shrugged before grabbing the underwear in both hands and tearing it free, letting Coach’s thick, five-and-a-half inches shoot forth like a rocket.  “What do you guys think,” he asked the crowd, giving the older man’s aching rod a few tugs.

“Kinda pitiful, really,” Nate said, his own eight-inch log now dwarfing Coach’s.  On the other side, Andy’s nine-inch girder loomed even larger, just like the rest of the team.  There’d always been an array of shapes and sizes in the locker room, and while that variation still held true, everyone on the team had moved up a degree or two in magnitude.

“What about the rest of him,” the blonde asked, giving Nate a quick look as he grabbed Coach’s collar.  With a loud rip the two of them tore it free, leaving the older man’s broad bulk as exposed as the rest of them.

“Not bad,” Nick said, sounding entirely unimpressed as he ran a hand through the wispy hair on Coach’s plump pecs.  “But nothing special either.  These guys are fun, but tits aren’t really a “man” thing, are they,” he sneered, roughly thumbing each of the older man’s large nipples.

“Fuuuuuck,” Coach grunted, his cock starting to ooze in response to Nick’s relentless fingers at his chest.  His eyes were wide as he stared at the altered young men, no longer wiry sprouts he could boss around but thick, powerful peers.  He didn’t know why it all turned him on as much as it did. There was a voice in his head that kept insisting it was all wrong, though it was rapidly drowned out by the bellowing din of his growing lust. The longer he squirmed in the young squad’s grip, the more normal it all felt.  He was the Coach and he needed to take care of his boys.  This was just the game they played to get everyone all worked up, himself included. With a roster of hefty meatheads, they might have been the slowest team in the division but he made sure they all felt like winners.

“Looks like it works, at least,” Andy laughed, reaching down to tug on the fat poker.  Coach grunted and started pumping his hips reflexively, his meaty globes flexing with each thrust of his hips.

“That’s great, but I thought he was interested in some ‘real’ men,” Nick grinned, his head filling with the same memories as Coach.  The images were slowly creeping in for all of them, the hours they spent wearing Coach and each other out, the real reason a bunch of lumbering slabs of meat like them wanted to join the team.  They didn’t all identify as gay, but none of them was about to turn down as skilled an ass and mouth as the ones Coach had.  That’s where the older man’s talents truly shined, and he loved to teach through experience.

On cue, Coach finally tore out of Nick and Andy’s grip, demonstrating the power contained in his own rugged frame as he dropped to his knees and swallowed as much of Nick as he could.  His hands clamped to the younger man’s plump globes as he motioned for the rest of the team to step closer, his meaty hands reaching out to tug away on the aching organs eager for a turn.  Coach made sure everyone got what they were looking for, putting his whole body into the process as he was simultaneously taken from both ends.  On his knees, prone on a bench with his legs in the air, face down on the hard floor; his middle-aged meat was taken and used again and again until he was a spent, sticky, contented mess.

“Thanks for the workout, Coach,” Nick said as he helped the cum-covered man to his feet.  He’d already showered and slipped back into his shorts, the bright green nylon split so wide at the sides his hairy ass was mostly on display.  His fat cock was clearly outlined in front, the heavy bulge pulling the waist of the shorts far below his hairy gut, but none of it seemed out of place.

Coach just grunted and looked down at his matted fur, a broad grin on his face despite the harsh tone.  “You pussies need to put some more effort into it next time.  Is it too much to ask for some real fuckin’ men around here,” he barked over a broad shoulder, his meaty rear bouncing as he lumbered towards the showers.