Skip to main content

Captain of the Guard

 



AJ was once Alexander James, the salutatorian of his high school, captain of the academics team, and founder of the campus Republicans. But after Coach Frost got to him at the end of the semester, things took a turn for the strange. When he returned from Christmas Break, he was unrecognizable. He had gained maybe 70 lbs of muscle, several tattoos, and was recognized as the founder of the collegeā€™s new wrestling team. Of course, Coach Frost was the one behind it, but no one even wanted to question it; for the most part, they loved the new ā€œAJ.ā€ He was much more outgoing, likable, and of course, sexy. To the guys, he became the chill and friendly jockbro that they all wanted to be, and to the girls, he was a dreamy hunk who everyone knew treated them right. The only sourpusses on the entire campus was, of course, the academics team.


They called AJ a fraud, a meathead jock who betrayed them. And although he tried his best to be friendly to them, AJ was always met with the cold shoulder. There was just something not right about himā€¦ But their perspective was about to change. At 10 PM on a Friday evening, when the Academics club normally adjourns itā€™s meetings, AJ made a surprise appearance. Since his departure, his presidency was handed over to a kid by the name of Harvey Todd. From his podium, Harvey audibly gasped as AJ entered the room. The crowd of maybe seventeen pretentious nerds turned to see him standing at the door, sweaty and in workout clothes.


ā€œHey guys.ā€ He said, trying his best to be cordial. From the podium, Harvey shouted at AJ to leave, claiming he was no longer welcome in the meetings. The rosacea-ridden men loudly agreed with cheering, all except for one. He stood up alone, and approached AJ. The boy was Percy Lindhurst, his ā€˜formerā€™ best friend and roommate. Percy stood before the man who he thought he knew, tears welling up in his eyes. He recalled coming back to the dormitory in January to a half-empty room, no calls or notes from AJ. This was a man he tried his damnedest to suppress his love for, to maintain a friendship, gone in a flash. ā€œHi, Percy.ā€ said AJ, his eyes also getting red. Disregarding the sweaty and smelly state AJ was in, Percy embraced him immediately in a tight hug, which was immediately returned.


ā€œWhat do you want, Alexander?ā€ muttered Harvey from his stand. AJ, still holding Percy against his chest, offered his deepest apologies for his abrupt departure, and as a sign of good faith, offered them a surprise gift as a token of his appreciation. He guaranteed that the team would be excited and love it, but it would remain a surprise. He dropped the room number on the ground, written on a scrap of paper, and left the room with Percy in arm.


The next evening, the entire group showed up to the room number, recognizing it as the old Wrestling room. They entered one by one to the dark room. Harvey muttered under his breath in exacerbation, clearly rooting for AJā€™s failure. Suddenly, the door slammed behind them, locking them in complete darkness. The room began to smell of sweat and steel, the odor permeating their noses.


ā€œAll right, team!ā€ Shouted AJ, shrouded in shadow. The lights slowly turned on one by one, revealing the worn plush mat and workout equipment. At the far end of the room stood AJ, his arms crossed with a smirk on his face. He turned his baseball cap backwards, and winked at the confused crowd. ā€œTime to suit up.ā€ Just then, two side doors burst open with a laundry cart. And who was pushing it, but Percy Lindhurst. Or, rather, a newer version of Percy. His former lanky stature and thinning blonde hairline was replaced with intense musculature and a golden mane of beautiful long hair. Shoving the cart in their direction, Percy walked up to AJ, planting a sloppy, passionate kiss on his puckered lips. The academics team was shocked and now completely unnerved. What happened? This tattooed and buff himbo was not the Percy they knew!


ā€œWhat? Didnā€™t you hear?ā€ AJ taunted, ā€œPerce here is my new boyfriendā€¦ And your new Co-Captainā€ He playfully grabbed at Percyā€™s groin, fondling a noticeable bulge. It was at this point that Harvey began to panic. He pushed past his comrades and pulled at the doors in vain, his husky physique not even giving a little sway. He pounded on the doors, begging anyone outside to let him out. Little did he notice the scene unfolding behind him. His former minions began to deeply inhale the growing musk of the room, emanating from the cart of damp, sweaty singlets. With each breath, their arms grew in size, their legs slowly bursting out of their pants, their feet ripping apart their shoes. Each team memberā€™s best physical attribute came out in spades: Oliverā€™s tan skin, Garyā€™s mesmerizing eyes, Allanā€™s impressive height, and even Derekā€™s big bulge. The newfound jocks began to revel in their new state, feeling their bulging muscles and immeasurable beauty. AJ and Percy stood smiling in the center of the room, proud of their achievement. By the time AJ had pulled Harvey away from the door, the new Wrestling team joined him with cocky smirks. 


Harvey looked around him, at the guys he thought he knew, pleading to let him keep his smarts. Percy looked at AJ with a raised eyebrow, a little chuckle emitting from his mouth.


ā€œDonā€™t worry, Harv.ā€ AJ pushing down on his shoulders, ā€œWe need a new towel boy anywayā€¦ā€


It has been five months since the wrestling team fully came to fruition, and under the careful watch and guidance of Coach Frost and the Captains, the college made it all the way to the playoffs for the state. All the news outlets suspect that theyā€™ll be the projected National Champions! What really impressed the country, though, is how pro-queer the team is: openly talking and expressing their sexuality. Little does the world know, however, about the twink towel boy named Harv, and the bukake cumslut the team loves to fuck.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Predestination

  Promising Sunnmore University Ph.D. Candidate Missing Aug. 31, 2006 A promising research student has gone missing as of this past Wednesday from the Sunnmore University campus. Sean McDonough, a Ph. D. candidate studying genetics at the university, left Swampscott Hall at approximately 9:45 PM and did not show up for his office hours the following morning. Campus police state that the incident likely occurred during Wednesday night's freak storm while the University security cameras were down for scheduled maintenance that evening.  McDonough, a native of Providence, has been intimately involved in various secretive genetic studies conducted by Dr. Howard West and Dr. Delia Whateley. Motives remain plentiful behind his disappearance, but local authorities assure the community at large that there is no evidence yet of foul play. Fellow colleague and doctoral candidate Elias Delahaye remembers McDonough as a "brilliant scientist" and "dear friend." --- Carefully...

Spiritual Trainers

 He came into the gym a skinny little twig, quite literally skin and bones. Never really able to gain any weight, Gordon was known around the neighborhood as the ghost: deathly pale and skeletal. For the past 5 years since he graduated from medical school, he tried strategy after strategy to try and bulk up. From high carb and high protein diets to vegan plans to just eating fast food for an entire month, nothing seemed to work for him. Thus, this new gym membership was yet another rung on his ladder, another step on trying to get swole.  The gym had been a staple of the neighborhood for decades, becoming a well established conveyor belt of successful athletes. The place supplied wrestlers, boxers, bodybuilders of all types to the industry: always winners, always huge. Thus, in the hopes of becoming their next success story, Gordon put pen to paper on the membership form, and struggling to carry his limp gym bag over his shoulder, he drudged toward the locker room. While the i...

Cult of Personality

 The blistering New Mexico heat bared down on Douglas' '99 Chevrolet Cavalier. The small blue coupe meandered up I-25, enroute from Las Cruces to Santa Fe. The old man quietly sighed to himself, fruitlessly trying to think of a better pitch to sell his Solar Panels to the rich folks up in Albuquerque. Las Cruces ended up being a bust, just as much as Tucson: the damn things were just too expensive up front. Not that the company gave a single damn, quotas are quotas. Thus, still empty handed, he passed the exit sign for Socorro- still an hour until he'd reach his destination. As he passed the exit, he noticed a bright red glint a bit further up the road. Douglas adjusted his glasses, squinting his eyes to see. He slowed down on the empty highway as the sight became clearer. It was a car. In fact, it was a bright red '67 Mustang; it's owner leaned on the hood as black smoke bellowed from the tailpipe. Douglas looked down at his watch, knowing fully well that he needed...