The Transformer

It was Game day! The NFL had been really pumping up the hype for their games recently and it had caused a lot of excitement not just in the sporting community, but the writing community! Specifically a few of the TF writing community! While some were avid fans, others were fans of the hot bodies  playing those sports! So when Bryce, Nate, Adam, Henry, JW, and Shaun got an invite from their not so sporty friend Jay to mark the day of the big game with a party they were surprised!

The first to arrive was Bryce! He was excited to see Jay for their big party! Bryce was 5’11 and a bit out of shape, but he shared his friend’s appreciation with the hot athletes in the NFL.

Bryce knew Jay as his not very sporty writer friend. Jay was on the smaller side of height and proud of his Asian heritage! Which is why Bryce was shocked when a blond haired towering man answered the door.  The figure was clad in a football uniform, helmet, pads, jersey and all! The large cleats he was wearing adding to his imposing stance.

“Bryce! Glad you could make it!” The football player said embracing Bryce much to his surprise. 

“Uh… Hi… I don’t- wait you look familiar.” Bryce mutter pressed against the slightly sweaty athlete.

“Oh sorry. I was having fun with some new outfits.” The football player removed his helmet revealing long blond hair, blue eyes, large jaw, and a laid back smile. The light purple tank top he wore showed off his powerful arms and there was a light sheen over his body as if he’d just come from practice.

“You’re Trevor Lawrence! The quarterback.” Bryce gasped. 

“Close! But that gets into what we’re gonna be doing tonight. It’s me Jay! Long story short I found a way to have some fun tonight with the different players in our fantasy football draft.” Jay explained cockily.

Bryce was amazed seeing this 6’6 athlete talk exactly like his 5’6 Asian friend. It was impossible, yet with each word it solidified his identity. 

“H-how is this even happening!? You’re like a foot taller and a brand new race! What could even do something like this?” Bryce asked breathlessly.

“Well I’ll get into the how later. It was so much fun for me. I enjoyed every second! For now just enjoy your change.” Jay said patting Bryce on the back.

“My change?” Bryce said, but soon he was overcome with a tingling all throughout his body. Bryce had not realized as Jay was talking that his own body was changing. He could feel every inch of his skin tingling as it took on a tanner visage. His hair grew into a clean cut shape with some stylish products added as it darkened as well! His own height diminished 2 inches, but his entire body sharped with toned muscle. His face began to reshape, gaining smooth skin and a pronounced Adam’s apple that revealed the deeper moans that came from his body as he changed. His own clothing shifted from that of a guest to a football player in seconds before he stood before his friend completely changed.

“What just happened?” Bryce asked in a deeper voice and a bit of a southern drawl! He couldn’t help but look down and see the tight jersey over his body. His new pecs so pronounced beneath the fabric he’d swear he could bounce them if given the time. And he felt the tight compression pants surrounding his new tight ass, showing off every crevice. 

“You just became Younghoe Koo! The South Korean kicker for the Atlanta Falcons! Gosh his voice really does sound as sexy as they say. You’ve got that twang to your voice that just sounds perfect.

Bryce rushes inside to see himself in the mirror and gasps.

“That’s really me?” Bryce said smiling, examining his features with complete surprise and satisfaction. 

“Yes sir. Down to your last tattoo.” Jay said, tapping at his left arm revealing the detailed artwork. “Feel free to explore your body some more! I know I did. And like I said, I’ll explain more as more people arrive! And speaking of!”

The two looked outside and through the window they could see Nate walking up to the door. The 25 year old was also 5’11 and his pudgier frame showed through his choice of jerseys.

“Oh this is too perfect! He’s already wearing his Josh Allen jersey! I think for him I’ll have him change as he gets closer,” Jay smirked. 

Bryce was confused, but could quickly see what Jay was talking about. He was the same height as Nate. Or at least was. Soon he could see his friend growing. Taller and taller! The once pudgier frame of his now looking lean stretched out to the 6’5 frame of the athlete he was becoming. His brown hair and light stubble grew a bit darker and fuller. His hair styling into an athletic cut and his stubble nearly forming a full beard. All the while his frame was slowly filling with muscle befitting the quarterback he was becoming.

“I’m Josh Allen!” Exclaimed Nate from outside as Jay opened the door for his friend. 

Nate couldn’t believe his own change, but was somehow more surprised when he saw Trevor Lawrence and Younghoe Koo. After a few minutes of frantic introduction Nate finally calmed down.

“Here! I got you guys some beers. I don’t normally drink them, but it felt appropriate for a football party.” Jay said handing them both cans.

“Thanks Trevor… Jay… you…” Nate said laughing. “I still can’t believe this! Can you tell us how this happened? I mean I’m Josh freaking Allen right now! I grew 6 inches and  feel like I could throw a football across a stadium.”

“I guess that’s what being a quarterback will do to you.” Bryce laughed while sipping his beer. “And now that you mention it… I feel like I could kick a football across a stadium… plays and drills are kinda running through my head when I concentrate.”

“That’s part of the change. When you guys arrived at my party not only did you turn into these guys physically but you also gained their abilities! On and off the field!” Jay explained. For me unfortunately that means I know a lot about Crypto now, but also I know how to play football! I’ll finally be able to watch and understand the sport today!”

“Yeah but I know you didn’t just find a way to change us into pro athletes to understand the game. There’s got to be a reason.” Nate scrutinized looking fairly thoughtful with Josh Allen’s face. However, that’s when the doorbell rang.

“Adam!” Jay said answering the door greeting his friend with a hug. The 40 something engineer was confused to see the 24 year old quarterback hugging him. Adam was normally considered pretty tall at 6’1, but that paled in comparison to the buff athlete standing 5 inches taller than him in that moment. He could feel his out of shape form pressing against the solid muscle of he now realized was Trevor Lawrence! However, with each second of that hug he could feel his body change. It was as if he was being revitalized by a simple hug. His body felt more compact. Tighter in all the right places… as his body hardened to match. He felt his hair grow lighter as his biceps peaked from his clothing. Clothing that now shifted into a compression tank top that clung so closely to his body, onlookers could see abs! 

“Or should I say Christian McCaffery!” Jay smirked releasing his friend now a 27 year old quarterback!

Adam was confused, but there was no denying something had changed as the pair released each other from the hug. Turning to a nearby hall mirror he gasped.

“I’m… I’m!” Adam muttered putting his hands on his new youthful face and flexing a bit in the mirror completely in disbelief.

“Yeah yeah. You’re in the body of your dreams, based on your fantasy football picks! You can thank me later. I’m gonna tire myself out if I have to give out these explanations each time! Maybe I’ll make this go a bit faster.” Jay said stroking his square jaw, looking like a quarterback formulating a play in his head.

Adam joined the others in the living room, not knowing what Jay was even considering. 

“Wow. Ok. When Jay invited us here I wasn’t expecting to be surrounded by a bunch of pro athletes. You’re Younghoe Koo! I mean… you look like him.” Adam said nervously still getting used to his new body.

“Yeah It’s me Bryce in here. I just look like Younghoe. And feel like him too… this body feels incredible, but I think we’ll get used to it. I’m feeling more comfortable by the second.” Bryce admits. 

“I just hope Jay knows what he’s doing,” Nate said from inside Josh Allen. It’ll take a lot of explanations on how any of this happened. Does he even know what he’s doing?

They all turned to see Jay in the kitchen looking at a book when a puff of smoke emitted from it followed by a lot of coughing and a smoke alarm.

“There! That should get them here faster!” Jay proclaimed. 

The group didn’t know what he meant, but the remaining guests on their way did. 

Jared was driving back from the office when he heard some strange whispers around him and suddenly a cloud of smoke quickly filled and dissipated from his car! He coughed up a storm, glad he was at a stop light, but was shocked to see what was amongst the cleared remains of himself and his car! He looked down, expecting to see his modest build, the kind spent from years at an office. But that was no more. His lighter skinned body in semi formal wear was now replaced with the darker coloring and powerful build of a quarterback! Now he was wearing a jersey, a hoodie, a backwards cap, and his formerly clean shaven face now had the beginnings of a nice beard! He quickly checked his rear view mirror and screamed. Jalen hurts was staring back at him!  He felt 10 years younger and really confused. But more than that he noticed his car… it was fancy. Top of the line. The kind a rich athlete could afford not him! He sped off down the street to his friends! They wouldn’t believe this.

Meanwhile across town.

Henry was still getting ready in his room! He was fashionably late to his friend’s party, but he was sure they’d understand. But as he got dressed the clothing he put on his body shifted, becoming that of a blue football jersey with the number 88!

“Weird, that's Mike Gesicki number! And gosh this jersey is kinda big on me…” Henry said. He was pretty tall around 6 feet, so he was not used to the unfamiliar clothing being that big… but his body would soon catch up! His arms lengthened! His feet grew! Each word of protest sounded more and more American! Until he stumbled all the way to his mirror and saw the blond haired blue eyed tight end staring back at him. He could see his face reform till no trace of his original self remained. All that stood was the 6’6 athlete he’d admired on TV! Not just that but as he stared, his mirror shifted, becoming that of a nice desk. The changes spread all the way across his room until he sat in a nice apartment filled with football trophies and pictures. 

Back at Jay’s house the group was panicking. After Jay had muttered those strange words it seemed like the whole house shook and reformed. The TV was twice as big! The couch was made of fine leather! There was a liquor cabinet in the corner and there were new pictures of their celebrity athlete bodies on the walls!

“Jay! What did you do?!” Nate cried out, his deeper voice sounding commanding and urgent.

“Is that a spell book!?” Bryce added seeing Jay slowly slide the book into a cabinet.

“Reality… it’s changed… the house, the appliances… our clothes… did you just change reality to match our bodies?” Adam inferred the cause and effect of the events adding up.

“Ok… yes… by accident.. I was trying to trigger Jared and Henry’s transformation remotely! Shaun’s too! But I think I misread some of the book and it made a wave of REALITY changes, rather than just physical changes.” Jay bashfully admitted. The long haired jock looked quite apologetic, shrinking into the corner in embarrassment, a difficult task given his new 6’6 stature.

“Hey I’m not complaining!” Came a voice came as Patrick Mahomes stepped through the door. “Hey guys! It’s me Shaun! I don’t know what happened but somehow I became Patrick- Oh!”

Shaun said looking inquisitive at the gathered party full of athletes. 

“So… I guess everyone is an athlete. Gosh. When I first saw my older self stepping out of the car and adjusting my clothes I was feeling self conscious. But I suddenly started changing before my eyes! Growing huge! Getting these muscles, this tight tank, this cool under armor headband, and getting to see your house change into a legit mansion was awesome.”

“Wait, mansion?” Jay asked, racing outside. He could see his friend was telling the truth! A mansion stood before him the likes of which he’d only ever dreamed! “Oh fuck.”

A few minutes passed. Shaun was still admiring his body in front of the others commenting on how different his new body was. He loved showing off his improved strength and challenged Nate and Adam to arm wrestles that quickly devolved into actual wrestling! All the while Bryce looked on with Jay as Henry and Jared finally arrived. 

“Ok… now that we’re all here, Jay I think you owe us a full explanation.” Bryce said, crossing his arms, looking a lot more intimidating than normal inside Younghoe Koo. 

Jay sighed. “Alright. So I turned you all into athletes so we could have a fun party as members of our draft! I had this whole thing planned out that we’d try new bodies at each point! There was gonna be this great game!... But.. I accidentally jumped the gun and messed with reality too… This book I got… well it’s real magic and I used a pretty powerful spell…”

Jared shrugged. “I mean that’s fine. This is still a great idea. Just tell us next time you change reality again.

“That’s the thing… a spell to warp reality can only be cast once. After that the affected reality sorta… stays… there is no turning back. You guys are all professional athletes now… like for real.” Jay admitted.

It felt like I was about to piss my pants, “Ummm, uhhh…” Was my only response as I squeezed my crotch in order to prevent it. Suddenly there was a jolt in my ass and I sat back in my chair. I spread my legs, “Oh shit.”

“You can try to resist,” His voice remained so calm and steady, “but you won’t succeed.”

Despite his certainty, resist is exactly what I tried to do. I gripped the table tightly, leaning forward and trying to look him in the eye and let him know I wasn’t going to let him win. Unfortunately my mind started to break, and I found myself sounding pathetic as I released an involuntary moan.

I kicked the chair back and stood up with the full intention of telling him I was through. Before I could utter a word, however, the feeling started working it’s way from my ass into my balls. I grabbed myself in an effort to prevent an explosion of fluid into my pants.

“You won’t shoot,” He sounded so sure, “don’t fight it, just give in.”

Despite his reassurance I still felt the need to fight against the feeling. I didn’t want to massively unload inside my pants. Unfortunately, fighting just made the feeling sink in even deeper.

“You’re not in control,” He told me as I involuntarily kicked my leg up onto the table.

“Oh no, oh shit,” I stopped fighting it for just a moment. For just a moment I felt the full pleasure that I was being put through. “Oh fuck,” I shuddered as I tried to resume resisting, this time a little less effectively.

“Stop resisting,” He demanded, as the intensity started traveling down into my dick and up into my torso, “you can’t win.”

My brain became overwhelmed. As my nipples rose and brushed up against my shirt I gave in. I started to shake with orgasmic pleasure. I was so certain that I was about to soak my pants, except I didn’t. I was on the edge, but that’s where I stayed, my muscles seemed unwilling to release the pressure building up inside of me.

“Not a bad resistance time,” He told me as I shook and shivered while wave after wave of not-quite-orgasmic pleasure hit me, “not great but not bad. We’ll try to cut your time down slowly, give you as many chances as possible to lose the fight. Eventually you won’t resist, of course, but that could be weeks away. Until then, welcome aboard. I think you’ll find that the true pleasure is all ours.”

“Aw shit,” Was my only possible reply.

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Four independent vibration units provide haptic feedback to the wearer in any compass direction. Possible uses are directing where to go, or warn where not to go. Finally we also went the extra mile and incorporated a taser into the design, capable of shocking the wearer at 4 different pain levels and at three different points along the inside of the collar.

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During a conversation with @casualpatrolperfection I got curious what happened with Mr. Turns Servants and wrote a little conclusion for Winston. At least read his part #1 for this to make sense.

Arik was scared. He wasn’t often called into masters office, and so far only for punishments. Though it was over a year ago since the last time, he was still inconvenienced every day from it. Then things had been going well, a bit too well, and he had been slacking off with some of the gardening. “You like dicking around? I’ll give you something to keep your hands busy”, master had said, eyes glowing red. “I expect the garden to be flawless from now on”, and waved Arik out.

He hadn’t even left the house for the garden when he felt a wave going through his body, and he became hornier than he had ever been before in his life. Despite his hot body and its generous equipment he only jerked off once a week or so. Normally there wasn’t any women around, and he had no interest in the other guys, while all objectively gorgeous. They were also all straight, to the best of his knowledge. With no internet and no TV he would just spend some extra time in the shower to relieve the pressure. But now he was almost light headed with the amount of blood going into his rock hard cock. Instead of walking out, he turned and went upstairs to his room and into the bathroom. He then furiously worked for almost an hour to finally reach climax, and explode thrust after thrust after thrust of cum. He so wanted to apologize to Akio, if they could ever understand each other.

Arik had worked harder than he had ever done before in his life, and added an inspection round before sunrise to make sure everything was pristine when master got up. He needed to work late into the nights to accommodate for his pre-dawn, morning, lunch, afternoon and evening wank routine. They stole 20 minutes minimum each, but he knew that leaving his new urges unattended just made him do less and less work, until he was pressing his pre-cum soaked speedos against any gardening machine that vibrated. That had happened more than once. As far as he knew the garden had been in immaculate condition ever since though, and he had no idea what he had done wrong now.

“Arik, or should I say Winston? Your time here is at an end and you have done an acceptable job. I’m really pleased with the past year in particular. Now, as agreed you will receive $1000 dollars per week, which comes out to $156,000 for three years.” He handed over a bag. “You are free to count them if you like, of course.”

“You may leave right now if you wish, but as an extended courtesy I’m willing to revert your mind and your body to what it was before you signed the contract with me. Just say the word and I’m happy to do either, both or none, but one spell at a time, please.”

Winston, was relieved. This was what he had been waiting for all these years. All the hard work. The extra muscles added when he complained about the hard work. The drop in IQ when master heard him complain about being bored. He could get back to his old life and pretend like this had never happened. Mind and body both, for sure.

“Zihin!” he said.

“And you shall have your mind back!”, Mr. Turns said, eyes glowing.

“Woha, was that an earthquake? Everything just shifted.”, Winston asked, somewhat disoriented.

“Unless you have anything else to say, we are done here.”

“What about the job?”, Winston said, and tried to clear his voice. It somehow sounded wrong to him.

“We will not be needing any more of your services. I’ll show you out. Don’t forget your bag.”

So I was recently introduced the to concept of RP around a GIF, where you put someone in the actual GIF, locked in a loop in a slice of time. Now, I can’t post the actual image (think of the children!), but you obviously have access to the Internet to find your own. But in a way it is more interesting without knowing the image.

You come back to your computer, curious to see if there are any new messages. You sit down and just as you touch the keyboard you get zapped by what you first believe to be static electricity. But it hurts much more than that, and kind of travels through the body almost instantly to your ass. You don’t have time to react. You feel yourself quickly pulled backwards, as if the gravity shifts. Like in a car collision. It hurts again. The world around you changes too fast for you to take in at once. The light, the sound, the pressure on your back, the smell. Part locker room, part chemical, like plastic and something else. It hurts again, but with a pleasurable finish. You can feel the air against your skin. You can see that you are not yourself. You can see the man that hurts you. But you can’t move. You are stuck in a loop. Each time hurts just as much as the last. Each time presses the prostate, edging you without ever reaching climax.

At first you wondered who he was. The man had been fit at one point. You tried to inspect his tattoos and figure out the significance of each of them. You tried to figure out who you were. This unfamiliar body wearing a few pieces of clothing you would never choose. Was the mind of this boy inside your old body? Where is this locker room? You so wished you could talk to the man. You wished you could move your head and have a look. But all you could do was observe, think and fantasize. And even that was hard. Every second the sphincter would stretch in pain and the prostate send a shiver of horny delight. Thoughts and reasoning that would normally be instant now feels embarrassingly slow with the constant interruptions of unabated sensations. How long could you take it without going insane? You count to 1000 strokes. What is that? 3 hours? Nothing change. You count to a million. Is this hell?

“Until death do us part”, “as long as we got each other”, “love is what home feels like, if it was a person”. I always thought they sounded cheesy and naive. Don’t get me wrong, I married out of love. We had a wonderful wedding were we invited everyone who were important to us, friends and family. Then straight to honeymoon. All inclusive Caribbean cruise, perfect suite, perfect staff, perfect weather. Everything was perfect. Then came Bonaire.

The place is wonderful, I’m sure, but it was the blessing at the voodoo shop that is all I will remember. Well, that’s not the right word, since I can barely remember anything from that day. It’s what stuck with me. We woke up two days later in the back of a well worn Chevy Silverado 1500.

Disorienting doesn’t even begin to describe it. We must have been knocked out for quite a while. Although the truck was parked in the shade it was crammed, sweaty, and the air was stale with the smell of breath, teen bodies and auto repair shop. Then I really freaked out. Gone was my meticulously sculpted body that made me such an effective and imposing negotiator for the bank. Instead was a 16-ish hillbilly grease monkey dressed to look the part. Off brand hoodie and camo cap. I almost swallowed the tobacco, which in itself was a moment of what the fuck.

It was worse for her. She totally lost it, not keeping the “what the fuck” part quiet. She was screaming versions of it over and over for minutes. It took quite a while to work out who we were, originally. She was the one demanding my name, and having no other options I told him. That’s when he suddenly calmed down and told me hers. Then the shock, relief, adrenaline and whatever else these bodies were pumped up with took over and we had the most passionate sex of the entire honeymoon. Up to that point at least.

“Are you changing me again!?” my boyfriend said looking at me suspiciously. “Of course not!” I said, with a small smile as I looked over my boyfriends body taking in his large pecs, just moments ago they were almost no existent. My boyfriend frown and scratched his face, not even noticing a beard quickly growing on my face. 

“Are you sure, I could have sworn I felt the tingling again” he said raising an eyebrow as he looked at me, he shrugged his shoulders as they slowly became wider, all the while his face was beginning to show sings of the age I was giving to him, he no longer looked like the young 18 year old he was moments before. As his hairline began to quickly receded, I could have fixed it, letting him retain his full head of hair, but I didn’t see the fun in that. Concentrating slight I noticed within seconds that his hair was retracting inside of his body until he was bald, the contrast between his no bald head and beard was actually quite good.

In place of the hair on his head, and to compliment the new beard he was now rocking I decided to let some chest hair grow in. Not to much though, I didn’t want him to be too hairy after all. I had learned my lesson when I had turned him into a proper hairy gay bear several weeks ago. It was something that I had been doing for the last few years, about once a month I would transform him completely, for the last month he was a skinny 18 year old Twink, the month before he was and 75 year old sugar daddy.

He knew that I had this power to change him, but I always kept him unaware for at least the first week or so, just so that I can have some fun and let the new bodies personality take over for a bit. Last month he was completely submissive, allowing me to have most of the control, but with this new body I have given him, I have also passed all of that control to him and his new dominant personality,

Did every damn drink have coconut or pineapple in them? It was getting near the end of the week, and all inclusive vacation in the Dominican had been great. But by now he had sampled through the entire beach bar drink menu. Let’s do Mai Thai again. No coconut nor pineapple in that one.

He was just about to press the service button when abruptly everything felt completely different at once. Two things stood out, as they contradicted each other. He suddenly wore lots of clothes and the temperature dropped. He touched the north face jacket with his hand. It felt cool to the touch. This was all overwhelming to him. He didn’t own a north face jacket. As he felt his clothes quickly heating up in the sun he realized that his hand wasn’t tan anymore. It wasn’t even his hand.

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Thank fuck for people becoming habitual cellphone users. I get some vague memories from all my hosts, but it’s sketchy with things as precise as codes. Fingerprint scanners are the best, but muscle memory is pretty good too, so if they use their phone often and for a long time I’m good. Given how people place more and more of their lives in a small rectangle of magic minerals it’s easier than ever to take whatever I want.

But I don’t want any. I did a while back, mostly to prove that I could, but not anymore. I don’t need it, never did. All I want to take nowadays is information and photos. Selfies. This one, Bradly Crow, is pretty good looking. They usually are, for some reason. I’m trying to be better at keeping a record to figure this thing out. Basic contact information, geographic information, things like that. Andrei set up a “react front for a relational database and an S3 bucket on amazon cloud” whatever the fuck that means. I’m good remembering things. I have to be, since I can’t write things down. Or couldn’t at least. Now I have a slack where I can post stuff and tell Andrei what to do, regardless of where I am. Hopefully he can start figure shit out and see if any patterns emerge.

I’ve honestly been too ignorant for too long on how this all works. Obviously the first time it happened was a complete shock. One morning I woke up as Martin Gutmann, visiting his parents in Berlin. I don’t remember many details, but I mostly pretended to be sick and tried to figure out what had happened within the confines of the guest room. And the next time I woke up I was Simon Baker in Tintagel, UK. Then it just continued. A new person every morning, all over the world. Always a mid 20 white male, usually good looking, but not always.

I quickly became bored with pretending to be sick. Some were single, so I could just do whatever, but It’s amazing what you can do when you don’t give a fuck about anyone. Just get dressed and walk out the door. Or don’t get dressed. I’ll admit I was a bit destructive at one point. Got myself in jail I imagine. I wasn’t there for the trial. Every day a new body. No need to go to work. No need for protected sex. No need to worry about hangover, or withdrawal or medical treatments. I suspect that if I die, I die for real, but that never made me wear a helmet.

No one has ever understood me better than the movie Groundhog Day. Although the situation is completely different, the futility and lack of consequences resonated deep. When it came out I watched it probably 10 times. Ironic to see that movie that many times, but it taught me so many lessons. I have been going back between this being a blessing and a curse. Even ignoring the amazing breadth of lives and places I’ve seen, who else have experienced more than one body, let alone thousands?

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Your back hurts and you can’t move your head, that’s the first you realize. It takes a few moments for you to realize most of you can move around fine, it’s just your neck that is held in place. There is some sort of structure around your neck. It feels like metal with rings sticking out, and some sort of flap sticking out the front. You can see it, barely, looking down. You tap it. It sounds solid. You shift around, get both your legs out of bed and unsteadily manage to sit up. You feel the weight on your shoulders, and are happy for any core workout you’ve done recently. Just balancing sitting up is a chore. You carefully stand straight up and slowly walk over to the bathroom to have a look in the mirror.

It’s pretty much what you’ve already figured out, a metal shackle with some locking mechanism around your neck. Sturdier than anything you’ve ever seen. Absurdly so. The locking mechanism in front doesn’t look like anything you’ve ever seen before. For a start, there is no key hole. Slowly you rotate the entire neck shackle and have a look at the hinge at the back. Sturdy, as everything else, and precision made. No visible screws and not a lot of gap to get anything in.

You start getting a bit fatigued standing up, so you carefully sit down on the toilet. You have so many more questions than answers. Who put this on you? Why? How did they do that without waking you up? How did they get in? You should look around the apartment and see if anything else has changed. Sitting down doesn’t really give you as much rest as you’d hoped. You still need to balance you upper body. You lean your back against the back of the toilet, something you rarely do. It’s better, but you still need to balance sideways.

Stating the obvious, the ring needs to come off ASAP. There’s not a padlock as such, so you can’t use a bolt cutter, even if you had one. You need to saw your way either through 2/3 inch tick, 2 inches long metal tongue on the front or through the locking mechanism, 1/3 inch going though the holes and ½ inch on all other sides. But the lock is probably something much harder, like hardened steel. But then all of it could be milled out of hardened steel for all you know. Or magic. In any case you don’t have a metal saw, or angle grinder, or dremel, and you are not really happy about using any power tool inches from your face. Certainly not by yourself. At the very least you need someone else to do it for you.

You hesitate at the thought of contacting someone. It’s not like you would be revealing a embarrassing secret. Your are innocent here, right? It still feels intimate for some reason. You know a few people you could call, but they would have to come here. This thing is impossible to hide. Beside, you are exhausting yourself just by sitting on the toilet.

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It didn’t sound too bad, as curses go. “You can only wear mesh fabric from now on.” Sports stores are filled with mesh fabric clothes. Long sleeve, short sleeve, no sleeve, shorts, hats obviously, but even underwear and socks. All sneakers with at least some part mesh had worked so far, at least with mesh socks in between. Everything else, if it isn’t at least substantially partially mesh cloth, will itch. It starts out OK, but gets worse and worse, and it’s unbearable after half an hour. Water helps. I can go for hours in normal swim trunks, and as long as I sweat all the time, compression gear works too. Regardless, I always look like I’m ready to hit the gym.

But fuck me how quickly it started to affect my life. If you always wear athletic attire people assume you to sport and work out. The way people look at you and treats you make you become self conscious as well, so I felt I had to step up my gym time. And it is one thing to always look like a bro walking around campus, but if you look like that on parties and on more formal occasions too, people put you in a certain box. The jock bro dude. And once in the box you get treated like everyone else in the box. Everything else is defined as an exception. You are the jock bro dude who have seen Spirited Away. You are the jock bro dude who somehow passed linear algebra. It’s suddenly exceptional.

Employments are a bit limited too, if you refuse any other dress code than burpee-ready. Anything with uniforms are off limits, as with safety gear, and anything remotely formal. It’s delivering pizza or selling protein powder, and the latter only when I started to look like I do now.

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You’re finally awake. 

Just start doing crunches while I explain this place. We just call it the Gym. It’s pretty big, for a gym, but you’ll get bored soon enough. There are 11 guys here at the moment, you included, and from what I’ve heard it has been as many as 13. Any time someone leaves, someone else takes their place, like you just did.

Now, this next part is a bit harder to explain. Time and space doesn’t appear to work the same in here. To give you an example, if you go all the way over there to the locker room and exit through the other exit, you’ll end up in the crossfit room over there. It’s like the other side of the gym and rotated 90 degrees. Or perhaps those two actually sit together and this room is fucked. Or the spinning room. Who knows? It’s best to not think about it. And before you ask, no there is no door that leads out. There is no window. Just the Gym.

Continue what you’re doing. I’ll just get some burpees in. 10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 1… done!

So that’s the other thing. You need to work out. If you stop you’ll start to feel sore in a few minutes, and then it just gets worse and worse. It’s slow enough that you have time to power through a shit, but you there is no time for day dreaming.

There’s a vending machine in the locker room. Just press anything you like and it pops out. Protein bar, protein shake, isotonic drinks. You’ll hate it in less than a week, or whatever time notion you manage to adhere to. There are no clocks. No one gets sleepy. It’s just workout.

The vending machine never runs out either. There are always fresh clothes in your locker. The rooms kind of reset when no one’s in them, clean all the shit out, remove dead bodies, fixes anything broken, reracks the weights. Those kind of things. Perhaps that’s where the number 13 comes from. You can observe all the rooms with 14 people, so perhaps there is something that wants to stay out of view.

10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 1… done!

What else is there to say? Oh, yeah. Leaving. The most popular way is to weigh the bar way up and do an unspotted bench press and let go. You have to really commit though, because if you don’t die you’ll heal up pretty fast. There is something freaky going on with our bodies in here. I barely recognize myself anymore, and I’m not talking about all the muscles.