Date: Mon, 16 Jul 2018 20:51:31 +0000 (UTC) From: Abra Cadabra Subject: jockhole transformations part 8 *** E-Z-Grow *** The store was more crammed than ever. Ace would have to clear out some of the older merch soon. But he agreed that they needed new articles. The Jockhole faced a serious problem. Buyers left with new, wonderful bodies, but not all of them felt motivated to stay fit, instead letting their bodies deteriorate into a less jockish shape. This season's special edition was an attempt at a countermeasure. A hot, tan jock boy entered the store. He had a bit of a belly under the tank top and his muscles weren't defined but otherwise he... There was a Jockhole tattoo on his neck and studs in his nipples. Ace blinked and the name Everett appeared in his mind. This boy had been at the Jockhole a few month ago - and failed to keep up with his fitness. "What can I do for you?" Ace asked. Everett looked around the place. "Just felt like checking this thing out again. You got a lot of new stuff." "We sure do. I can... Oh." Two boys entered. They were David and Antrim – lanky, freckled gingers. Ace addressed all three. "You boys. You all look like you could use some gym motivation. How about our seasonal special? E-Z-Grow thongs. They come with a bottle of pre-workout." He got mostly shrugs, so he grabbed three black thongs off the hook and tossed one at each boy. The impromptu trio headed for the changing booth, entering individually. Yet again, the door opened. In came a boy named George in a checkered shirt, who had long, out of control hair and thick glasses. "Hey you," Ace said, "Try our special E-Z-Grow thong. Here you go." "Um, sure." George looked at the booth where two boys were waiting and sighed to himself. Then he stepped in front of the wall mirror and stripped out in the open. Ace was impressed by the thin boy completely undressing in the store, just so he could try a random thong that had been tossed into his hands by a stranger. George slipped the black item over his smooth, lean legs, his new body almost as thin as the old one. The E-Z-Grow brand wasn't quite Jockhole and it wasn't quite Twinkhole. The idea was for guys to start out as twinks and train their way up to jocks with the thong's muscle-growth-increasing power. Ace had an idea. "Actually, George, take that off. It doesn't work for you at all. Try one of the posing thongs over there." The boy, who didn't question how the shopkeeper knew his name – the never questioned it – grabbed a dark purple thong from the hook. He slid the E-Z-Grow down his twink legs and pulled the poser up his thick, tan calves, struggling past the mega-quads and nearly as much over the glutes. A Monsterhole tattoo appeared on the boy's shoulder as Ace decided the choice was the right one. By this point the other three boys had finished changing and marveled at the mountain of muscle in the middle of the store. Their three delicious slender boy bodies were fairly similar to each other. Since E-Z-Grow was in the trial stage, there was little variation of make and model. "Well boys," Ace said. "You can't go out in nothing but thongs. That'd be silly. How about I throw in some tops? And would you like free razors with your purchase?" George let his hand slide over where his eyebrows had just been, then moved farther up to touch his smooth head. He looked a bit puzzled, as if he hadn't been totally hairless the whole time. "Nah," twinkified Everett said. "My mohawk is still fresh. And I'm shaved everywhere else." "Same," Antrim said, running his palm over his ginger mohawk. "Don't need it right now. But I'll say yes to a shirt." Ace handed out yellow tank tops. Alpha-T for the freshly minted bodybuilder George, Beta-T for the two buddies. Everett got a white J-Prime top just to mix things up. "Hey what's your name," asked one of the Thai twinks toward the muscle hunk of the same nationality. "Kiet," said former-George. "No offence but you look like you could use a good meal and some time at the gym." Everett scoffed. "Show off." Kiet smiled. "I'd like a few gym buddies actually. Wanna grow?" The three Asian twinks looked at each other and agreed to join the guy with the Monsterhole tattoo. "Actually," David said, "I feel like I *need* to lift some weights or I'll go berserk." "Same," said his once-ginger-now-Thai friend. "I really need a pump this instant." The vendor stepped in. "I can't let you got without having you try some accessories." "No, sorry," Everett said, "but I need some iron bars in my hands right now." Ace rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll just thrown in one of these real quick." He closed a Painhole chain around Kiet's thick, short neck and shut the padlock. He handed the key to the hunk. Kiet blinked away confusion. "Um... so who should get the key?" "I'll take it," Everett said. "You can have it back if we're satisfied with your training performance, slave." "Yes sir," Kiet said and handed over the key. "I'll train hard, sir." Antrim said, "Every time you fail a set before all of us have failed, we add five whip lashes. And we get to pick your weight." "Yes sir. Sounds fair sir." Ace handed each boy a bottle of pre-workout and sent them to the nearest gym. *** Fully Fitted *** Elisha walked from store to store in search of free stuff. He entered a place called Jockhole. "Hello?" he asked into the overflowing shelves. "Ah, what can I do for you?" asked the vendor, who had eyebrow silts under his teal undercut but was otherwise unremarkable, if decently built. "Do you have any damaged stuff I can have for free or super cheap?" The shopkeeper chuckled. "Giving away merch for free? Never heard anything so ridiculous. Although... there are a few fashion experiments I'd like to try." "Experiments?" "Let's just say not all our items go well together. I'd like to see which do and don't." "Do I get to keep any?" "Sure. It won't even take long." "Fine," Elisha said and followed the employee to the back where a single changing booth waited. "Step in and strip. I'll hand you a few things." The boy undressed as he waited. The curtain was torn aside and he instinctively covered his crotch with both hands. The vendor opened two packages, one labeled Twinkhole, one Monsterhole. They contained socks. "Put on one each," the man said and handed over a sock from each pack. Elisha shrugged and slipped into both socks, his back turned to the shopkeeper. In the mirror he saw his comically proportioned body. With muscles bulging off his short frame like a caricature, he was certainly a looker. The baby face and the bone structure were that of a small, slender boy. His mass barely knew where to go. Elisha looked at the mirror to see the socks because his pecs would have been in the way looking down and he didn't want to bend over naked with someone behind him – even though his glutes were so big he'd need to touch his toes to make his asshole visible. "Interesting," the shopkeeper said. "Try these bands. Put them on simultaneously if you can." Elisha took a red-blue headband that said K-Power and a white wrist sweatband that said J-Prime. He slipped the wristband onto the arm that, at the same time, put on the headband. "Hm..." made the vendor. "What's your name, by the way?" "Eli... uh, sorry. I'm Yong." "And where are you from, Yong?" "I was born here. I'm half Korean, half Japanese." "That's almost too simple," the man mumbled. "What?" "Um, I was just thinking we need to get you proper clothes. Can't keep you here in the nude." Yong got a light blue jockstrap saying Fuckhole on the hem. He thought the brand name was weird but as long as he wore it underneath something... Just as he slipped the jockstrap past his nearly spherical quads, the vendor slapped a hat onto him – a pitch black baseball cap. Yong's ever-hard dick had already drenched the jockstrap's pouch. "Yo, wanna fuck?" he asked. The shopkeeper grinned. "No, but everybody else will. Just you wait." Yong flexed at his mirror image, fibers popping as if about to burst. Cum – or piss – shot in little spurts through the jockstrap fabric as he strained himself to the maximum just to pose. Alternately stretching his tongue out and huffing "Fuck" over and over, Yong kept fixated on his mirror image. He loved himself. The only thing he loved more was sex. "Now this is going to be interesting," the vendor said and dropped shoes into the booth. He still held the box which said Dickskin on the cover. Yong slipped inside the sneakers and turned back to look at his feet. The near-bursting veins all over his legs zig-zagged up across his torso and bolted down his arms. The veins were so prominent they distracted him from the footwear even though he of course saw them every time he looked at himself. "Works in combination," the shopkeeper mumbled. "Okay, Yong, we're done." "Fuck now?" "You'll fuck in a minute. Have a look at the gear shelf on the way out." Yong swaggered toward the register, masturbating through the jockstrap. He took a look at the display. He didn't need any of it. He was happy with his Painhole cockring. All he was looking for was a fuck hard enough to satisfy him and some masters to service. Before leaving, he got one last glance at the mirror wall. There was a tattoo on his chest. What did it say again? For a second it was as if Yong had an identity crisis. Was he a Twink, a Jock, a Bull, an Asian, a pain slut...? No, he knew what his strongest desire was. His entire right pec was taken up by the word Fuck, the left one by Hole. This was him. He swaggered outside and locked eyes with five men in quick succession. They all closed in on him. *** Next up: Ace tries out new products and causes some humiliation, but also pleasure.