Infiltration (Target: T-Dawg)

[The Magus]

Author's Note: I wrote this as one of CYOC's picture stories, so quality-wise I'd say I aimed rather low. It ain't great, I gloss over the physical transformation in order to get at the mental transformation, and as a story it could use a little fleshing out. It also may lose something without having the pictures to go with it.

However, with all these flaws, I still hope you enjoy. Let me know if you do.

Oh, lastly, it hasn't been proofread, so there may be an errant typo...

"I don't care what they say...I think you're perfect, Mark." His voice echoed against the bathroom tiles, and I could feel it vibrate through my back.

I held back the wince. I could hear in the tone of Andrew's voice that it was partly a last-ditch effort to get me to back out of the plan. I couldn't hide my irritation when, looking over my shoulder at my long-time friend, I responded:

"Yeah, well, I don't have to put up with that shit any more." I glared at my reflection. 'That shit' was the T-Dawgs, a group of gym thugs and frat boys that had practically taken over the local Y. They would saunter into the weight room, spend half the time lifting too-heavy weights with too-poor form and the other half bullying anyone smaller than them.

I was smaller than practically everybody. But not for long, and that's where the plan came in.

Andrew gave me a tight squeeze, forcing me to look back at the mirror. "I still think it's really drastic, even if it works." Andrew had never been convinced on that point.

"Was it Shakespeare who said that revenge is a dish best served cold?" I asked, shrugging out of the embrace and leaving his slender friend in the bathroom.

"I think that was Khan. On Star Trek." Andrew answered absently, following me into the living room. "And I don't know what a cold dish has to do with this revenge."

I stopped and was looked at the coffee table. More specifically, at what was on the coffee table.

It was a pill. Or a candy. Or something. The old lady who'd sold it to us had said she had to dip the concoction in chocolate to make it edible. Her shop had smelled foul enough that I worried about what was inside that small, brown lump.

"I'm going to do it." I said. I looked at Andrew, saw the worry there...but resignation, too. Andrew could rarely put up much of a fight.

"But..." The attempt was half-hearted.

"Look, it's simple. The pill turns me into one of them, I infiltrate their friendly club, get them drunk, and put them in compromising positions. Then I snap the photos, take the antidote, and they'll never know who, exactly, made them near celebrities in the adult website markets."

"If they find out..."

"They won't find out! The woman said it would change me completely! And the risk is worth it." Andrew's shoulders slumped, and I knew I'd won. I walked over to my friend and gave him a hug. "And in a day or two, I'll take the antidote and you'll have me back as you want me." I said quietly.

Andrew held me tight for a moment, but then stepped back. He took a deep breath, looking stoic. "Okay. Do it." He said.

I smiled a nervous smile and then reached for the chocolate pill.

* * * *

The pill worked overnight, while I was sleeping, and since Andrew had his own bedroom, no one saw the transformation.

All I knew was that when I woke up the next morning, I felt great!

I lay in bed for about two seconds, realizing that I was grinning, maybe even leering...I'd had amazing dreams, hot dreams. I'd dreamt about the T-Dawgs.
The biggest problem about the T-Dawgs was that they were so hot. Every one of them, bad form working out or no, had a kick ass body. They were big, they were handsome, they were strong. They were completely my type, from the jock-like attitude to the way they bulged in their gym shorts. They were everything I was not.

They must have caught me staring one day, because shortly after they started working at the Y, they started giving me an extra hard time. One of them 'accidently' shoved me to the ground in the shower room, another always seemed to drop the heaviest weights as close to my eardrums as possible whenever I was doing a bench press. Three times this year, I'd had my locker broken into, smashed into, really. I couldn't prove anything, but I had my suspicions. All of them called me "Shorty."

But I wasn't a shorty anymore. Whatever had been in that old lady's pill meant that for the first time in my life, my feet poked out over the edge of the bed. Looking down on at myself, I could see a beautiful body, hard and swollen with muscle. My cock was hard and swollen, too. It was bigger.

"Fuckin' A," I said, feeling a surprising pleasure at how deep, how rough my voice was. I sounded as strong as I looked.

Reaching down, watching my now-muscular forearm flex as I reached, I took my thick, hard cock into my hand and started to stroke, loving the feeling of it.
When I came, I knew I had to jerk off again, so I did. This time I let out a triumphant grunt when I came. Next time, I thought, I might roar.

* * * *

Until Andrew spoke, I didn't even notice that he was staring at me. I'd walked (sauntered, really) across the kitchen floor, my bare feet slapping against the cool tile. I was wearing only a pair of ratty boxers, mainly because I loved feeling my newly large, plump cock and balls swinging free. It was a new sensation, and I couldn't get sick of it.

"Mark?"

I grabbed my coffee and the paper and sat down, grunting something at Andrew.

"Mark, is that you?"

"Yeah. But call me Matt. I think it sounds better." I loved my new voice! I didn't look up from the paper. "Will the Cup come back to Canada? Iginla might make it so..." it read.

"Okay....Matt. But holy shit, will you look at yourself?"

"It's the shit, isn't it?" I grinned, leaning back in the chair, rubbing my hand against my pec. Shit it felt good to be in this body. And I was getting horny again!

"It's breathtaking." Andrew said. He trembled, and then reached forward tentatively.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," I said (feeling more like 'Matt' by the second).
Andrew jerked his hand back, and I realized that I'd sounded a little more threatening than I had intended. I smiled, hoping to take away some of the sting, but Andrew only flinched.

"I'm sorry...just...it's an amazing transformation." Andrew said.

I understood. "Look, we're best friends, and I wouldn't want to change that, okay?" I said softly.

Andrew swallowed. "I know...it's just that, you know I might have considered something more with you if you'd been my type," he said, sounding embarrassed, ashamed. "And I guess that maybe things might change..."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you've changed!"

"...But you haven't." I said, trying to be gentle, but really I just wanted to go back to reading the paper.

Andrew didn't say anything for a few minutes, but when he spoke, his voice was slightly clipped. "You haven't just changed physically."

"You're right." I said. "I feel great. I feel...like I take up so much more space, like I'm important. I feel..." I growled, and mocked gnashing my teeth. "I feel like I could take on the fuckin' world."

"It's more than that. You're swearing more...you're more aggressive-"

"Of course I'm more aggressive!" I said, setting down the paper. I looked right at him, flexing my arms. "Wouldn't you be with a bod like this? Fuck - sorry - but my cock is fuckin' bigger!"

"Just...you're reading the sports pages, Mark!"

"Call me Matt."

"You never read the sports pages!"

I wasn't worried. In fact, it was kinda cool. I hadn't noticed it, but I knew a lot more than I had before...in my mind I suddenly has stats, scores, a favourite hockey team (the Bruins, knocked out in the first series this year)...even vague memories of a past I'd never had.

"The ol' lady said I'd change completely. Look, I gotta infiltrate these guys, so I gotta act the part."

"I didn't think it would change your mind, your personality," Andrew said, but the fire in his voice was dying.

"Look, bud, I'll snap the photos, and take the antidote and I'll be back to being 'Shorty'." I said, fighting to keep the irritation out of my voice. I stood up. "Anyway, I've got a big day...I want to enjoy this while I can. See you later, Andy!"

I went back to my room to prepare for the day, and moments later I was out the door, about to experience my first day as a T-Dawg.

* * * *

"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" Their voices roared around me and I opened my mouth, feeling the beer swirl through the hose and down my throat. Their voices carried me, buoyed me, and I felt like I could chug forever. Beer spilled out of my mouth, running down my chin and over my red tank, I grinned and shook my head out of the stream of beer. Lifting my arms over my head, I let out a roar of triumph.

"YEAH!!!" I screamed, my voice hoarse. The other guys were shouting with me, too, slapping my back. I totally belonged.

It had been easier than I thought to infiltrate. I showed up at the gym, wearing clothes I'd just bought to look more like them. I'd thought I might be nervous, but instead I felt confident. I swaggered up to them, grinned a shit-disturber grin, and started with the shop talk.

I knew what I was doing in the gym, dodged the weight-machines that I used to use, and went straight to the freeweights. I showed them some moves, let them show me some of theirs, and we hit it off.

It was amazing to hang with them. As rude as they'd been to me when I was Mark, it was a completely different experience to be on the other side. I felt powerful with these guys. Confident and cocky. I felt a swing in my step as I comandeered a bench from a few scrawny runners, swinging my muscular torso to greatest effect.

The guys would clap me on the arm or shoulder, encouraging me when I put in a few extra reps, and I learned they liked it (and I lifted more) when I just let loose and growled, grumbled, and roared my way to the top of a lift. By the end of the workout, my body was so pumped, I just let out a shout "FUCK yeah!", scaring a few old ladies on the PowerCycles.

I can't say I was really focused on the plan, but it was totally with the plan in mind when I took the T-Dawgs up on their offer to join them clubbing that night. I'd get them drunk, snap some pics, and then...well...I guess I would take the antidote and go back to the scrawny, picked-on Shorty again. The idea seemed less and less appealing.

The guys took me to a couple bars, where we talked, our voices getting louder as the beer kept flowing. I hadn't really planned to drink, but the first round was on them, and the beer looked so good. I tasted it and it was better than I'd remembered...before I knew it, I was keeping up with the 'Dawgs, belching and laughing and telling stories about the good ol' days.

I don?t know if it was the beer or the new body, but I was buzzed, I was flying. I felt rockin', like I could do no wrong. I didn't even mean to get in that fight, but the pencil neck at the next table was lookin at one of the boys funny, and we just ended up in a rumble. The T-Dawgs had my back, and when we were kicked out of the club, I think we waited around, drinking from the case until the pencil necks came out. I can't remember - I was fuckin' blitzed by that point - but I think we beat 'em up pretty bad. We taught 'em not to fuck with the big 'Dawgs.
And that's how I got here, with the room spinning, and beer dripping down my chin, and my muscular arms flailing around as I try to reach a fuckin' wall. That's how I got to be a big fuckin' jock with his jock buddies, all of them laughing with me, at me, who the fuck cares? I think I'm about to pass out.

* * * *

I wake up at dawn, my eyes caked with god knows what, and make my way home on the first subway. I feel like shit. I climb the stairs, not caring if I wake up anybody. If they want to cause trouble, they can try. My knuckles are tender from last night, but they wouldn't mind teaching a lesson so long as I got to beat off afterwards.

No one bothers me and I fall into my bed, fast asleep.

* * * *

Andy (a better name for him, don;t you think? He's so fucking skinny) comes into my room later that day.

I'm in a better mood, the hangover having disappeared in the first few hours of my nap. Now, I'm just waiting to get this over with so I can go meet the T-Dawgs at the gym, have a killer work out, and then go out with the boys, maybe get some pussy. I don't know when I became fuckin' bi, all I know is that I'm so fucking horny half the time. All I want to do is work out, drink, and fuck and for anyone smaller than me to stay the fuck out of my way.

"Mark, we have to talk."

"Yeah, we do, bro," The affection in my voice was fake. I wanted to mock him. "I'm movin' out, little man. The 'Dawgs are letting me room with one of them. I'd ask if you could come too, but...you aren't our type."

It felt so fucking good to say "our type." It meant I was almost one of them. It meant that I belonged. I leaned back, resting my leg on the table before me, flashing Andy with a sight he'd never see again. I smirked at him until, stunned, he walked out of the room.

To Be Continued...?

[tonypal76]

that is a first-rate, awesome start. Let's hear more about the boys and how they look as our hero joins their posse of studness.

[dan25]

I second the motion...lets hear lots more about the Dawgs,maybe Andy can find a little pill too??....great story...thanks

[Bull]

Hot. Very original, to have the hero come to see the appeal of being a "Big Dawg" instead of exacting revenge. And it's completely un-PC, which always appeals to me; lol.

[The Magus]

Thanks for the feedback, guys. I always like seeing what other people get out of stories (not just the ones I write) because it always surprises me how one sentence or phrase will stick out to someone, or how the same passage would seem significant to two different people for completely different reasons...

I do have a mental sketch of what a part 2 would be like (it'd focus on Andy, I think), and there's a slim possibility of a part 3. Thing is, I tend to hate multiparters. I love a well-written one-off...and while in my "real life" I consider myself an (unpublished) novelist, I think MGStory-wise, I'm a short story writer...so, I'm not sure yet if there -will- be a part 2.

As to the mental transformation, I hate violence...I think it's wrong under just about any circumstance, and I consider myself to be a pacifist. But, as far as what gets me off, I love stories where the protagonist undergoes a mental transformation (or seduction), especially if it's into a jock/brute sort of man. I know a lot of readers here hate the idea of guys becoming dumb, or of the heroes becoming "bad guys", but I can't help being turned on by that sort of thing. I'm glad to see there are a few others who find merit in the idea as well.

Damn, I'm wordy.

[Kymuscleboy]

Hi,
I've been reading this forum since it began, but never logged in and posted. Just want to say that I really liked the story, and I do hope there's another part or two. I would like to see just how big "Matt" has gotten. How tall, maybe some measurements. Also it would be cool to know what kind of weight he's able to move now that he's liftin' with the dawgs.
--Kymuscleboy

Great story.

[Mad Dog]

Seeing Andrew become a bookish musclegod in contrast to "Matt's" jocked-out frat muscleboy would certainly interest me.

[claygrant]

This paragraph was one of the highlights for me:

Originally Posted by The Magus

I wasn't worried. In fact, it was kinda cool. I hadn't noticed it, but I knew a lot more than I had before...in my mind I suddenly has stats, scores, a favourite hockey team (the Bruins, knocked out in the first series this year)...even vague memories of a past I'd never had.

Something hot about that... with the new, huge body he gets a mental transformation too. Especially the part about the past he'd never had, like how it was growing up with a ever-increasingly muscular body.

I remember a long while back that people on this forum of all places got upset over a story that LanceFan2001 wrote - the "Odds and Ends" story about a guy who goes into a clothing store, tries on a t-shirt, becomes a muscled stud, his IQ drops, and he becomes foul-mouthed and aggressive.

I'm surprised that the people who had a problem with that story haven't spoken up here. It's interesting to have non traditional stories in which the "hero" doesn't act the way a hero does.

Magus, personally I love it, hope you continue!

[magusfan]

This story is why I am called Magusfan.

[xythan_shadow]

One small thing I'd like to point out, Andy still has the antidote.

Vengence is a dish best served cold, Matt should remember that.

[Absman420]

I remember when this story came out a couple of years ago. I... "enjoyed" it several times. Great job, Magus. I can't believe I didn't say so then...

[will88nh]

Very cool story... I think it coulda used a little more descriptive development in the physical part of the transformation; but like you and some others, I love the mental part of the transformation... and that's what makes this story hot :-). (Also wondering what this witch-woman's agenda is, since it seems she was all-to-aware of the somewhat unexpected nature of this change.) Still waiting for a sequel ;-).

Will

[willsheej]

Apologies for reviving such an old thread but why on earth was this story never finished?
It's absolutely fantastic!
It really needs some more development and has such awesome potential.

[The Magus]

Hey, thanks...

I'm still around, and sometimes have some ideas for the part 2, but my internet connection is pretty unreliable lately, plus I've been working on some other stories that I hope people like when I eventually post them (computer problems, etc...once my home PC is hooked up to the web, I'll probably have two or three to post then...)

But if anyone wants to run with the premise and characters, I completely invite you to go with it. I love these kinds of stories, so if I've inspired someone to write something, go right ahead.

[Absman420]

Originally Posted by The Magus

But if anyone wants to run with the premise and characters, I completely invite you to go with it.

Hmmm... a dangerous invitation...

[chr1s_87]

Originally Posted by Absman420

Hmmm... a dangerous invitation...

Oooh! Oooh! If I were to vote for anyone to run with the characters or premise, it would definitely be Absman420! Or, FanTCman, but he's been MIA.... Go for it, Absman!

[Absman420]

Originally Posted by chr1s_87

...or, FanTCman, but he's been MIA.

Actually, he really hasn't been missing -- he's been posting (albeit infrequently) on other sites (most notably, the yahoo musclegrowthstories group). I chat with him online quite a bit and -- though I don't know his real name -- feel like I know him pretty well. Well enough to call him a friend.

He doesn't know why, but he's unable to post on this site. Whether he's been blocked or there's some internal screw-up or what is a mystery. He says he's tried to contact the moderator with little success, so he decided to just "take the hint" and not post here anymore.

How tragic is that, my friends?

[LipsK]

Oh no!!! Tragic enough for me!! :-(

[willsheej]

Well who are the moderators here? Couldn't we ask them to look into it? If it's simply an error preventing him from accessing then I'm sure they could sort it out. Though if he's been having the same problem as me with a weird error screen every now and then...

Anyone else had that same problem?


It seems such a shame to loose such a valuable member.

[Absman420]

Originally Posted by willsheej

It seems such a shame to loose [sic] such a valuable member.

"Lost" I believe. It's been over a year. WELL over a year.

[The Magus]

Oooh! Oooh! If I were to vote for anyone to run with the characters or premise, it would definitely be Absman420!

I can't be sure, but I think that Absman's story "The Facility" (? - I'd have to look it up, and I'm too lazy/at work right now) was thematically linked to my story "Four Weeks Later", so I already feel like I've been "Absmanned", but I'd be up for seconds...

[Absman420]

Originally Posted by The Magus

I can't be sure, but I think that Absman's story "The Facility" (? - I'd have to look it up, and I'm too lazy/at work right now) was thematically linked to my story "Four Weeks Later", so I already feel like I've been "Absmanned", but I'd be up for seconds...

You are correct about "The Facility" -- though I don't think it was an OVERT link.

I do indeed have an idea for a second part to this story -- but I didn't want to screw with any plot you had in your head. Okay if I take a crack at it?

[The Magus]

Go ahead. If I do pick the story up again, we can assume it happened in an alternate universe or something. :P

[Absman420]

Originally Posted by The Magus

...we can assume it happened in an alternate universe or something.

Boy, THAT'S the story of my life!

Consider it started.