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Content: Growth and shrinkage of muscles and genitals. Asian transformation. Intelligence and personality changes. Jockification. Twinkification. Dominance and submission. Increasingly crazy reality bending shenanigans.
*** Jockhole ***
Everett was in need of new pants – his old jeans all falling to pieces.
The blond, skin-and-bones boy entered a store, offset from the main commercial street. It was called Jockhole and a cardboard cutout of a shirtless jock's backside with sagging pants had Everett think he should have a look inside.
The tiny store was crammed with shelves. Techno music sounded from the ceiling. Everything on display was flimsy – mostly thongs.
"Hey there."
The boy whipped around. The shopkeeper was a young man in shorts and a tank top. He had the general stature and face of a generic `jock', but his teal colored undercut made him memorable, as did the three slits shaved into his right eyebrow.
"Um," Everett made. "I think I'm in the wrong-"
"I know what you're looking for," the man said and pulled a thong off the shelf.
"I don't think that's..."
Everett found himself shoved toward the changing booth – a generous cabin separated from the store by a curtain too short and thin to keep anyone undressing actually hidden.
"Just give it a try," the rude shopkeeper said and threw a black thong at the boy before drawing the nearly pointless curtain.
Everett looked down at the tiny piece of fabric. It was pure black with "Jockhole" in tiny, white handwritten font on the side. There was no price tag.
What was the harm in trying?
He stripped under the warm light from the high ceiling. His scrawny, lanky body with blond, patchy body hair all over was at least given a healthy color by the light. He appeared almost tan.
Fully naked, Everett nervously glanced back at the huge gaps between curtain and booth wall, but the salesman wasn't trying to glance inside.
The boy slipped into the thong.
It fit perfectly over his thick bubble butt. He could almost imagine his ass growing as he cupped it. An odd trick of the mind.
The fit was also great on the front where his package suddenly looked twice its usual size.
Everett's hands wandered over his heirless well-tanned skin, where the veins of his rippling abs vanished into the thong – his whole athletic torso an arrow pointing down at his new favorite item of clothing.
He turned and twisted in front of the mirror. His smooth, lean teen muscles bulged as he flexed, laughing at himself. It was as if he saw his gorgeous athletic muscles for the first time, even though he obviously had always had them.
Somehow the thong must have worked to bring out his natural charms. Everett imagined his neck had grown shorter and thicker, to match up with his edgy jaw. Must have been some trick of the lighting.
Slipping back into his sneakers, Everett pulled the curtain back.
"So what do you think?" the teal haired man asked.
"I love it," Everett announced with his voice that rumbled deeper than it should have on a short teen. "I need to have it. It really brings out my... everything."
"Let me just scan it then," the vendor said and made his little lasergun blink at the thong where the writing was. Or... hadn't there been writing? Well, Everett preferred it in uninterrupted black.
He looked back one last time, to see his bubble butt bounce in the mirror. Absent mindedly, he stroked over the tattoo on his neck – "Jockhole" in handwritten font.
The salesman grinned. "Looks like this is the sample for the display. It was the last one we had. I can't charge for that."
"Oh wow," Everett said, hardly believing his luck. "I can just have it?"
"Maybe you'd like to buy something else. Have a look at the jewelry case."
The smooth, tanned muscle jock teen wandered to the display of chains, rings and piercings. There was only one empty spot, right in between nipple studs.
Looking down on his own nipple studs, that he had gotten... somewhere some time ago, Everett said, "Thanks I'm happy with what I have."
"Okay, have fun with your product. Goodbye, Everett."
"Wait, I forgot my shirt!"
The shopkeeper handed the muscle teen a white tank top. "You came in wearing this."
"R-right," Everett said and slipped into the skintight top that ended just below his navel. "Thanks."
"Bye bye."
The teen jock left as the shopkeeper picked up torn jeans and some other clothes that somebody inconsiderate must have left behind in the changing booth.
*** Made in China ***
The torrential rain came out of nowhere, leaving the trio of friends racing for the nearest shelter. They had been walking by a place called Jockhole which turned out to be a small place crammed with underwear and sports gear.
A man with teal hair in cargo shorts and a polo shirt approached them. "What can I do for you?"
Braden, Ariel and Lawrence looked at each other. Braden spoke up. "Uh, just looking."
The vendor squinted at them. "Are you three brothers? All tall, skinny, brunet, blue eyed."
Lawrence laughed. "Ha! We look totally different. What do you think we are? A bunch of ching-chongs?"
"Hm... in that case. Oh, I already know what you should try."
The shopkeeper tore open a pack of three identical items and pushed one into each boy's hands.
Braden looked at the thing: a jockstrap with white straps and a bright red pouch carrying a yellow star in the middle. The hem said "Jockhole – Made in China".
Ariel scoffed. "Low quality then. Prolly gonna fall apart when I put it on my fat cock."
Lawrence chuckled. "Yeah, look at that package. Clearly made for Asian mini dicks."
The vendor smiled. "If you try them on and like them, they're free."
Ariel rolled his eyes. "Told you, low quality. No one gives good stuff away."
Braden shrugged. "Free is free. Where's the changing booth?"
The trio marched toward the booth and stripped down to their underwear. Sliding their pants down hairy thighs and their shirts over their thin torsos, the three chuckled at the silly situation.
Once the boys were nearly nude, Lawrence jumped into the cabin first.
The boys outside could see him drop his boxers and slide the jockstrap over his absolutely hairless, ochre legs. He wiggled his body, struggling a bit to get the straps into place – he had always had a beefy ass, so it was no wonder.
"How's it going Lawrence?" Braden asked and got no response. "Hey, what's up Lawr... uh, sorry I mean Cheng. How's it looking Cheng?"
The big assed teen left the booth, his pecs vibrating as he walked.
Despite being quite short, Cheng had an impactful aura. His round face radiated friendless with a bright smile and eyes that almost vanished into slits.
"Fits a lot better than expected," Cheng said. "I was afraid the cut would be too small to hold my package but even as big dicked as I am, it fits well. You guys should try it."
Ariel went in next, stepping out of his underwear as soon as the curtain was drawn. He pulled the jockstrap over his thick, smooth light-caramel calves, already struggling when he reached his thighs and the view was obscured by the curtain.
"So what do you say, Ariel?" Braden asked. "Uh, sorry. I mean Peng. Does it fit you, too, Peng?"
Swiping away the barrier, Peng stepped out with his trademark smirk that fit well on his flat, edgy face. His nearly black eyes sparkled even as they were half covered by his dark shiny hair.
The teen turned around, showing off how the jockstrap followed the couture of his ultra-lean body. If it wasn't for his legs, Peng might have looked skinny. It wasn't just the legs' mass, they were also long – making up much of his body's short length.
"I'd say it fits amazing. Cheng was right about it holding big packages well."
Braden could hardly wait to try.
As he stepped into the cabin, his friends outside switched back to Mandarin.
He took off his underwear and slipped into the jockstrap. There wasn't much fanfare. It simply fit well, covering his crotch right up to the pubes – the only noteworthy hairs on his body.
Other than that he looked just the same, but the lighting made his face appear more even. The strongly slanted eyes, the flat button nose and the thick lips all looked better in the shadow off his black hair. Yeah, good lighting indeed.
He stepped back out.
"Works for you, Heng," Peng said.
Heng gave a thumbs up. He was a little embarrassed to let the shopkeeper hear his thoughts so he spoke in Mandarin. "I'm liking the fit but it's making me insecure that I'm by far the shortest of us."
Cheng shrugged. "I've personally always been jealous of how buff you are."
"Nah, I'm not that big."
Peng nodded. "Pretty sure we all have similar weight, even though you're shorter than us. Not that it matters."
Heng turned to the vendor and switched to English. "You said they were free, sir. Was that for real?"
"Yes, let me just scan them. Why don't you have a look at the jewelry in the meantime?"
The trio put their shoes back on to walk over to the shelf and the man ran his scanner along the straps where it said... Heng could have sworn there had been writing on the jockstraps.
But of course the only letters on him were the identical tattoos the three of them had gotten. A simple "Jockhole" on the back of the neck and, in the same font, "Made in China" on their right pecs, just above the heart. They were a unit.
"Do we want jewelry?" Cheng asked. "There's a lot to choose from."
"Yeah," Peng said. "Is there anything in triplicate?"
"Only these nipple rings but the boxes is empty."
Heng shrugged. "We already have nipple rings exactly like those, so there'd be no point."
"By any chance," the shopkeeper said, "would you like the last sample of pink hair dye? I've had this package around for ages. Oh... looks like it was empty all along."
Cheng grinned. "No problem, sir. As you can see, the bright pink strands in our bangs are still fresh. We like to keep those touched up."
The vendor glanced at the window. "Oh, looks like it stopped raining. Well, was nice to meet you boys."
"Likewise, sir," they all said.
Cheng, Peng and Heng left the store. Despite how different they all looked in terms of faces, height and weight distribution, their fashion now matched perfectly. Maybe someday people would even confuse them for each other.
Up next: Twinkification, romance and Japanese transformation.