Date: Mon, 9 Oct 2017 21:56:19 +0000 (UTC) From: M Coello Subject: "The B-Ball Jock Becomes the Surfer" (sci-fi/fantasy) Whitey the Basketball Jock Returns to Max the Surfer by kooldoggie A few weeks after the transformations that had split up skaters Dolan and Damon, turning them into Whitey the B-Ball jock and Erik the goth, Whitey travelled with Tanner and his team to play some games in Seattle, allowing the studly jock to run into Ryder and trigger the change that would return him to normal. It was a rather cool day in Seattle as Whitey, at a majestic and uber-confident 6'6", strode into the coffeehouse, his long and limber form clad in a team sweater, long b-ball shorts meeting athletic socks that came almost to his knees, and his size 15 high-tops. His laser-sharp blue eyes glowed from their recent victory, and he was ready to just get a chai tea and kick back here a while as he waited for Tanner so they could commence their night on the town. But luckily, Ryder happened to be chilling there as well, having come back to visit his past emo crew, now that traveling out of his environment no longer triggered changes, and as soon as Ryder looked up to see the tall jock approaching a seat nearby, their eyes connected, and a jolt of electricity passed between them. Somehow, memories were stirring in Whitey's rather dull jock brain, and Ryder knew behind those eyes was Keoni's surfer lover Max. Ryder still had Keoni's surfer body, after all, although the skater had done his best to adapt it to his emo lifestyle. The 6'7", well-muscled but still rangy body was still tanned rather darkly, only slightly faded from the Seattle climate, but the long mass of platinum-blonde dreadlocks had been trimmed back to his shoulders and was kept mostly under Ryder's black beanie. His blue eyes were outlined in black eyeliner, and he wore black skinny jeans, appropriately ripped at the knees, tight black My Chemical Romance shirt, studded silver belt and leather collar around his sculpted neck. Yet in spite of all that emo garb Ryder couldn't bear to confine his magnificent size 16 feet, and so the tanned, long feet stretched out lazily toward Whitey. Ryder knew that Keoni's old boyfriend Max somehow had absorbed some of the essence that had triggered changes, and somehow the emo-surfer understood he now had the power to end the curse as well if he wanted. He knew poor Max needed his surfer life back; it had been unfair of Keoni Ð or Ryder, whichever you preferred Ð to take that from him, and Ryder knew it could take only a caress to bring back the youth. "Hey man," Ryder whispered sultrily as he went to sit by the jock, rubbing one big bare foot up against his tautly muscled bare calf, "you know who I am, right? You must have been looking for meÉ" Whitey's mouth hung open stupidly, confusion rampant in his brain. Whitey was total jock, strong and powerful, although he felt intimidated at being still an inch shorter than this super-tall alternative stud before him. He whimpered out Tanner's name, hoping the jock who had turned him could come to save him, and the muscular calf trembled a bit, in fear and lust, upon the electric jolt produced by that perfect bare foot. It brought back memories of being a barefoot stud as well, tan, nearly naked and perfectly surfer. The change was being initiatedÉ Whitey gasped out, nearly dropping his tea, but Ryder was on it and grabbed the drink from him, at the same time allowing the tall athlete to collapse into his arms. Tears flowed from the jock's blue eyes as memories were flooding back, and a somewhat more innocent and beach-twanged voice whispered, "KeoniÉduuude," as he allowed the emo-surfer's big, tanned hands to caress his broad back. Already, that back was shrinking somewhat, as Ryder gave in to the lust and planted some tender kisses on the long neck before him, triggering more accelerated change. He knew no one in the coffeehouse would notice this. The form-fitting team sweater and shorts seemed baggier now, as the proud 6'6" ticked downward, so many unnecessary inches dropping away. Max was coming back, and he was a rather short, twink surfer, an uber-cute beach boy who frequently undercut his cuteness with some tough surfer attitude and studly, athletic exuberance when he was on his board, as well as out of the water. Yeah, there was still a bit of jock to that surfer of course, though nothing like Whitey the basketball hunk. The severe pale-blonde crewcut was growing out and morphing, returning to a longer, but still short, surfer shag, a bit darker blonde, with bangs falling into the large, blue eyes, which had softened quite a bit and appeared a bit stoned. His nose shrank slightly into a small, pixie shape, his lips fuller, his chin more pointed, the face overall more elfin and boyish, the once sharp, angular planes of his face now rounder and lost in some baby fat, though the head remained slim and long. Ryder hugged tighter, shushing the higher-pitched whimpers coming from the emerging surfer boy as Max was finishing at 5'7", 125 lbs. of very sleek, long limbs, nearly fat free, the muscles tight but slender, just enough strength for all types of boarding, the calves not as powerful any more. His skin had darkened quite a bit back to a beach tan, though still not as dark as Ryder, just a light caramel that contrasted pleasantly with his blonde looks. The hands were again tanned, small and delicate, a few friendship bracelets along the arms, and Ryder removed the now way too big sweater, revealing that cut-off tank top to replace the basketball jersey. The pec-skimmer revealed a tight lower torso, small, lean, six-pack abs, golden and perfect. The smaller, size 10 feet, now narrow and boyish as well, though tough on the soles and well-tanned, slipped out of the big Air Jordans, and Ryder helped Max slip off the baggy shorts, revealing the low-slung boardies underneath. Max was again in his surfer vibe, but the slight body trembled, now from cold, unused to the cooler Seattle climate in this garb. The gentle, blue eyes fluttered open under long, golden lashes, and surferboy Max exclaimed, "Dude, that was intense!" Ryder helped the twink kid out of his seat, hugging him to keep him warm, and he said, "C'mon, let's get you back to my place so you don't freeze to death!" Max nodded in agreement, and both boys padded barefoot out of the coffeehouse. A few minutes later, Max was stretched out lazily in front of the fire, warming up his bare feet and slender limbs. It was warm enough here that he slipped off the cut-off shirt as well and allowed his ripped but trim torso to soak up the warmth of the hearth. Ryder was spooning him, letting Max know that it was going to be ok now, and that they would return to Cali tomorrow to find Erik the Goth and return him to Skylar. Justin, returning from a day of skating, came through the door a few minutes later to face this total surprise, but as his eyes met Ryder's he intuitively understood the situation. He also got comfortable and went to cuddle Max, the twink surfer smiling up at him as he recognized Justin as a fellow boyfriend he once had shared with Keoni, and he knew he could trust him. All three boys made out for a while, Max's bare pecs heaving, the final change kicking in from both magic boys' efforts, for together they ensured that Max would stay total cute surferboy from now on, the virus totally removed. At the end of the makeout session, little Max virtually vibrated with surfer energy, Whitey the basketball jock long forgotten, and Ryder found another tanktop and a pair of fitting sandals for Max to wear for their trip back to Cali, hopefully to find that weird ultra-goth boy Skylar had become and return him to the surfer fold as well.