Sibling Rivalry
[Since it seems like CYOC may be down for good, I’m going to share some of my favorite stories that were once available on that site, spruced up with grammar fixes and some AI images.
This story (which combines a few branches) was written by ThePsycho. If you are the author and either want this taken down or want me to link to a place where fans can support you, please DM me.]
In the not too distant future, an elite group of scientists, belonging to a nameless sect and working in secret to develop questionable technology, have had a breakthrough. The same geniuses responsible for numerous advances in transformation technology have developed an implantable chip, nearly microscopic in size and yet indestructible that can transform its host at a molecular level, altering their DNA temporary. The changes are slow, agonizing yet potent, affecting the host’s physical and mental structure and though means unknown even their clothing. Somewhere in the shadows of Washington, a nameless senator responsible for the funding of this twisted team has also given approval for the testing of this technology on young criminals as part of a double-edged scheme that will attempt to rehabilitate them through the threat of making them something they despise and at the same time allowing the scientists plenty of specimens to help them work out a few… glitches. Centers have already been set up in countless major cities across the US where juvenile delinquents are pouring in from flooded reclamation centers eager to pass the punks off on someone else without a word. All of them are tested to determine their personality, physical makeup, likes and dislikes and all of them are chipped. None are told more than that their will be dire consequences for future disobedience.
The doors opened and in walked two brothers, though by the looks of them you would never know they were even closely related. Standing tall and confident was Brad. Brad was 18, 6 feet tall, 200 pounds of muscle, and captain of the football team. His blond hair was in a neat crew cut. A sports jersey hugged every curve of his built chest and tight cargos (exposing a prominent bulge) clung to his hairy, tree trunk legs. Expensive Nikes adorned his rather large feet. Even in this disquieting place, his rugged face bore a winning, cocky grin and his brilliant blue eyes glowed with victory. Every cell of his body radiated power, confidence and masculinity. Brad was the favorite son, playing sports since he could grasp a ball and popular with everyone, especially the ladies. Brad was proud to be scoring as much off the field as on. Like all popular jocks, he didn’t shy away from partying and the occasional drink, but he wasn’t dumb. He actually maintained fairly good grades so he could get a good scholarship and have something to fall back on after football. He was the all American dream and his parent’s pride and joy. His brother, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Andy was the little brother, 16, 5’5" and lean. He wasn’t without muscles. Indeed, constant surfing endowed him with a nice overall tone and a striking tan that made even the athletic Brad look like a ghost next to him. His long dark hair hung like a veil in front of his mysterious green eyes, always staring into an unseen world. As he walked the slapping of his flip flops could be heard. Flowery boardies came to just above his knees and a wife beater hugged his chest, exposing his dark, toned arms. A red, yellow and green anklet gave a clue to his favorite hobby. Abhorrence and jealousy of his popular brother had warped his personality for the worst, and rather than strive to be like his brother he had taken to loathing all he stood for. Andy spent his days surfing and smoking weed, chilling with friends and letting the herb take all his concerns away, never mind that he worried his parents to death and was in danger of being held back.
Brad consequently came to hate his little brother, who his parents had to constantly tend to, drawing attention from him. Brad despised everything about Andy, his small frame, his apathy and disregard and most of all his smoking.
Their parents knew sibling rivalry was natural and inevitable and were content to let it run its course, but the fights grew worse, Brad on one occasion broke Andy’s arm and Andy in response took his lighter and burned Brad’s cheek. They heard from a friend of a center that dealt with juvenile delinquents and was also trying out some experimental, revolutionary sibling therapy. They were quick to send in their kids, the several thousand dollars for participating was more than enough to get them to sign any and all waiver papers.
The boys were quickly separated and placed in separate rooms where they were evaluated and secretly chipped. The man in the room with Brad informed him they had placed an experimental chip in his brother and that if he called him “Rob,” he would trigger a several hour long transformation into the perfect jock brother he had always wanted who would play sports and go to parties with him. Brad smiled at the thought of being able to make his useless brother a strong jock, a real brother to play catch with, go on double dates and get shit faced with to celebrate a victory.
In another room, a man was explaining to Andy that by calling his brother “Chad,” he would temporarily transform his uptight, sports-centered brother into a laid back stoner who loved surfing and chilling. Neither sibling was informed of there own chip or trigger and both were sent home with no directions or orders on how or when to use the command, they were left to their own wills.
——
Not long after they got home, Brad was working out in his room, already planning to teach Andy a lesson and turn him into Rob. Their parents were out for the day, likely not to return until late in the evening. Conditions were perfect to spend some good brother time with the football star, Rob. With renewed strength and determination, he finished his set, wiped the sweat from his brow and walked over to Andy’s room. In contrast to Brad’s large, relatively clean room, which he adorned with his sports trophies and posters of cheerleaders, Andy’s room was small, with clothes and surfing magazines scattered in piles every which way and the foul stench of pot drifted into the hall. Brad covered his nose at the offensive odor. Andy lay in his bed, likely blazed, as he stared up into the ceiling and listened to his stoner music through his headphones. Brad never liked any of that crap. Like all the popular jocks, it was rap all the way, the better to win over the ladies and fuel his already burgeoning ego. Andy soon noticed his brother hovering over him and took off his headphones; his eyes were already dilated as he sat up and gave a stupid grin. Unknown to Brad, Andy was not going to hesitate. He wanted to see Chad as soon as possible, he was sick of his bossy older brother. “Wassup, dude?” He asked, drawing out each word as if it was a struggle to speak. The long, sleepy syllables only fed Brad’s frustration and reassured him he was doing the right thing. “Nothing much man, was just thinking we need to hang out more like real brothers, don’t you think?” Andy’s smile broadened and he nodded his head. “So right, dude. We do need to hang out more… Chad.” Brad looked confused and then stumbled back as the name hit him. There was power behind the word, power and a familiarity, like it struck a certain part of him. Thoughts raced through Brad’s mind. First, he realized he had obviously been duped. He had been chipped as well, he could already feel the change being pumped into his blood stream and a voice in the back of his head whispering to him to be like his brother. He knew he had to fight it, he had no other choice, he couldn’t let himself be a brainless stoner like his brother, they were so dumb and like relaxed and laid back… He shook his head defiantly; already the chip was beginning to assert control. It wouldn’t be long until Brad was Chad, Andy’s ideal stoner brother. Already he felt his will being nibbled at; his muscles ached soon to be much smaller. “C’mon dude, don’t fight it, Chad, be like me! We’ll like get stoned and shit together it’ll be totally awesome!” To the growing part of Brad that was now Chad, that did sound good. He stared down at the floor, feeling like he was going to be sick as he watched the carpet race up to greet him. He was dropping in height, all those proud inches that made him the indomitable force on the football team were slipping away, little by little, until he was staring his once “little” brother right in the eye.
His jersey from earlier that had once looked painted on was now barely clinging to him, ready to fall off at any moment. His cargoes likewise were down to about his ankles and he had to constantly pull them up to keep them from sliding off completely. “Those fucking liars, I’m gunna… I’m… like totally lovin’ this, dude!” Brad’s hands raced to cover his mouth; he never meant to say that. Not only was he talking like his stoner brother, but even his tone had changed, the power in his voice replaced by the slow, subtleness of his brother, the laid back tone that he had once hated. His eyes swept the room desperately looking for something to help him, someway to escape. He saw his brother’s CD collection: Sublime, Dirty Heads, Red Hot Chili Peppers… somehow he knew all the songs, they played in his head as if he had grown up listening to them. He tried to think, to focus and force Chad, he thought of rap, of sports, of football statistics but all those bored and disgusted him now.
“Awesome, you sounded like me! Do it again Chad! Say ‘dude’!” Brad violently shook his head, noticing a lot more hair waving about as he did, his once short blond hair creeping down past his ears closer to his shoulders.
But his body and mind were at the mercy of the chip and his brother. “Dude!” He exclaimed slowly and with more enthusiasm, adopting his brother’s dopey grin for a moment as he mentally screamed at himself. His voice had raised a few octaves now sounding like a mid-puberty teen and not a giant jock anymore. He looked down at his arms as they trembled uncontrollably in agony, his muscles dwindled away, giving way to nice even tone. His arms became shorter and more proportional to his short frame. His giant hands became smaller with slender careful fingers that automatically knew how to roll a perfect blunt. Like a dark wave a tan just like his brothers washed over his arms and hands making his skin golden brown, flawless and with only few blond hairs instead of the many he had before. The wave moved across his body, slowly but surely. He felt it working under his jersey and gave minimum resistance as Andy helped him out of it. “From now on, dude, you hate wearing shirts, you only put that shit on when you have to, its boardies and flip flops for you dude.” Chad/Brad secretly smiled at the thought of dressing like a surfer, the clothes part of him still loathed sounded so comfortable and liberating now. He barely noticed as his chest took on the same golden brown hue as his arms, all the hair falling out except a small blond treasure trail on his slight six-pack. Not a hair was to be found on toned but small pecs. He looked down at his revealed chest, loving and hating it. Chad thought he looked sexy; Brad was mortified at his lean, disgustingly figure. Brad blushed in embarrassment as the changing wave worked its way down south causing his pants and boxers to finally slide off revealing his large equipment which sadly dwindled down a few inches as it regressed in age like the rest of him.
Andy snickered. “Don’t worry dude, soon you’ll see how awesome pot is, you’ll forget all about sex.” Brad felt his once thick legs now slender, almost smooth but very tan sticks. His calves and thighs were toned and sizable from surfing but they were nothing compared to what he once had. Brad walked forward, stepping out of his too large clothes, even his shoes and socks were ridiculously big on him and fell right off exposing his small, slender size 7 feet which were just as tan as the rest of him. His socks and size 14 boats vanished into thin air leaving him cold and stark naked in his brother’s room with a mind and body that were quickly turning against him. Brad felt his hands move on their own accord as he eagerly grabbed a pair boardies identical to his brothers and slid them on over his tan legs, they felt so awesome. Andy found a pair of old flip flops and helped his brother into them, they fit perfectly, hugged every curve of his feet. He wiggled his toes, Chad in almost full control of his body. “Please dude, I mean Andy you gotta like stop thissss is so sweet!” Chad’s eyes rolled back as another wave of changes racked his body and mind, his nostrils caught the sweet scent of weed, he sniffed the air finding to his pleasure and humiliation it was coming from him. He watched in the mirror as within seconds his eyes dilated. Though they remained green, there was now something different about them. The keenness and sharpness was lost, like nobody was home anymore. His shoulders slouched as his overall posture became forced into that of a carefree stoner. A general disregard and goofiness gripped his façade as a witless smile permanently etched itself onto his face. His blonde hair continued to lengthen until just past his shoulders, becoming thick and messy.
A tickling feeling brought his attention back to his face where, to his horror, scraggly blond hairs were popping out his chin, one by one. He plucked and pulled but to his bewilderment they grew faster than he could stop them until he had a shaggy stoner goatee. He ran a hand through it slowly, hesitantly, enjoying the feel, wondering if he was already lost. Part of him couldn’t help but enjoy the changes, they felt so right, he felt so relaxed, calm, his life had always been stressing about the next big game, the next test. He made no motion to stop his brother as he lit a blunt and stuffed it into Chad’s waiting mouth, a few puffs were all it took to drive the rest of Brad deep deep down, trapped until the change was over. So good, they thought, as Chad/Brad held the smoke in his lungs like an expert, letting the chemicals take over his mind. As he felt Chad overshadow him he thought, at least I won’t have to worry about anything… The new Chad put an arm around his awesome brother. “Dude, pot is sweet; we gotta chill more often bro!” Andy smiled. “We will, I’ll make sure of it.”

















