Line Change

The waitress brought Kirk another vodka tonic before he’d realized he’d gotten to the bottom of the one in his hand. “Thanks,” he said, flashing her a smile. She licked her lips as she passed, eyes locked onto his t-shirt clad torso even after she walked back behind the bar.

“You and that waitress have a thing going on?” Garrett Bradbury asked, giving Kirk a rough slap on the back.

Kirk grinned. “Can’t help it if she likes me,” he said with a sheepish grin.

Mason Cole slammed a mountain of gooey cheese nachos on the table Kirk sat at. “Hey, QB! Nachoes–on me!” he said, slugging back the rest of his Budweiser.

Kirk pushed the plate away, head cocked to the side. “Sorry, guys. Can’t wolf down food like you O-line guys do,” he said, patting his shirt.

Brian O’Neill took another shot on the pool table, sinking the ball he’d been aiming at, and let out an audible sigh. “Fucking skill positions,” he grunted. “Always on a fucking ‘diet’--christ, you’re worse than my girlfriend.”

“Since when do you have a girlfriend?” Garrett said. Brian suddenly blushed and turned away. Garrett and Mason bumped fists and Kirk wondered if he was witnessing an inside joke he knew nothing about.

“Anyway,” Kirk said, “I’m really glad I decided to come out with you guys tonight. This is a really good time. We haven’t hung out since…”

“Ever,” Mason interjected.

“Well, yeah, that’s true,” Kirk said. “But I’m glad you thought of it, G.”

Garrett shook his head. “Coach’s idea,” he said, shrugging his big shoulders.

The waitress came out with a tray of shots. Garrett smiled and gave her a thumbs up. “Thank you, sweetie,” he said. She lingered in front of Kirk, but he shooed her away.

“Damn, Garrett, she wanted to hang out,” Kirk said, watching her return to polishing vodka bottles and spying them from afar.

“This is ‘Guys Night’ bro,” Garrett said as he set the shots on the table. Kirk could smell the menthol stink of the chilled jagermeister from feet away. He watched the murky liquid with disdain as Garrett started handing out shots.

“No way,” Kirk said. “Fucking hate that shit. I’m out.”

“C’mon,” Garrett said, sweeping Kirk up with one beefy arm, pulling him into an aggressive hug. “This is Coach’s idea too. Hang with the o-line. Become one of us. Coach bought the shots.”

Kirk looked at the O-linemen, all watching him with especial interest all of a sudden, and reached for a shot.

“Nope, this one,” Garrett said, plucking a different shot glass with his thick fingers and holding it up to Kirk’s mouth. Like a baby bird being fed, Kirk tilted his head back as Garrett poured the shot in.

The other O-linemen cheered as Kirk winced and swallowed. He hated the taste of Jager–and that shot had something chalky in it too. “Damn, was that a dirty shot glass you put that in or something?” he said, swallowing some sediment. “Ugh, gross. I’m gonna need antibiotics, stat.”

Brian had set down his pool cue and was staring at Kirk. Mason had pulled his stool over to Kirk’s table and begun watching him intently. Garrett was staring at his watch.

“What the fuck are you guys…” Kirk asked after nearly a minute of awkward silence.

“...3…2…1…” Garrett counted.

Kirk opened his mouth and a loud belch escaped, deep and rumbly like it had started in his feet. He slapped a hand over his mouth, shocked that he had burped so vigorously without even knowing it was coming. The waitress was looking at them again, this time with a disgusted look on her face.

“Man, you’re a fucking pig,” Mason jeered, giving Kirk a shove. Kirk shoved back, nowhere near matching the strength in the 300 pound lineman’s arm.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m–” Kirk’s eyes went wide as his stomach rumbled as loudly as a water cooler. Before he could react, a loud fart thundered out of his jeans-clad ass. The linemen laughed. Mason bent over and slapped his shins. Brian fanned the air with a look of feigned disgust on his face. Garrett had his phone out, recording now.

“Fucking turn that off,” Kirk said as he watched the waitress retreat into the back room.

“Take a look at that tight little QB body,” Garrett said, smirking. “Because this is the last time you’re ever going to see it.”

“What are you–” With a sound like rubber stretching, Kirk’s belly suddenly swelled to the size of a beach ball. He stared down at the sudden growth in horror and disbelief. He grabbed onto the massive bulge and was surprised that he could feel its heft. He couldn’t even reach his navel anymore. He lifted the weight, shocked at how heavy it was, and let it fall back down on his lap.

“You look like you could use some nachos now, abs-boy!” Mason said, pushing the plate closer.

“Guys, why aren’t you… this is… this is serious!” Kirk said, fumbling for his phone. He had to call a doctor or something! Another belch bellowed forth, and as his teammates burst into laughter again, Kirk felt another burst of swelling–this time behind him. His buttocks blew up so much he felt like he was rising out of the chair. He looked behind him, shocked at the big, bulging rump he suddenly had, now wedged between the chair’s arms. He wiggled and the arms snapped, releasing him from the seat. He stumbled forward, his center of gravity entirely off; his massive gut pulled him forward while his humongous glutes felt like he was towing a massive weight strapped to his hips.

“You guys, what am I… what am I…” His pants split down the rear. Mason gave his blubbery buttocks a slap. Kirk scooted away from him, causing the pants to shred more as his legs thickened. Another burp and his torso inflated, his arms shredding his sleeves.

“Look at these cheeks!” Brian said, pinching Kirk’s suddenly bloated face. “Nice double chins, fatboy!” he said, tickling the folding flab on his neck.

Another baritone fart punctuated Kirk’s next growth spurt as he found himself actually growing taller. His eyeline, once in line with Garrett’s, shot up. He was shocked to find himself looking down on Garrett, a few inches taller than the thickly built center.

Brian gave Kirk a shove. “Check it out, you’re as tall as me now!” the 6’7” tackle said. He raised his fists to shove Kirk again, but this time the quarterback raised his own arms, blocking the move. “Oh, wow, look at big fatboy here, getting aggressive!”

Kirk was shocked that he’d been able to block his mountainous teammate, but as he looked down at his body–now clad only in his boxer briefs, stretched to the limit, and the neckline of his t-shirt, the rest of his clothes in tatters on the ground–he realized why. Muscle, as well as fat, had bulked up his body. He couldn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore, his smooth jawline and handsome good looks replaced by a bulldog visage, blocky and thick.

“What did you guys do to me…” Kirk said, pawing at his face with pudgy fingers. He was suddenly itchy as hair sprouted all over his usually hairless torso, thick brown growth all over.

“You look good,” Garrett said, sizing Kirk up. “Nice and big. Careful, Brian, he’s gonna take your spot!”

“You’ll have to arm-wrestle me first,” Brain said, letting out his own belch before slapping his big arm down on the table.

“I’m not armwrestling you!” Kirk said, backing away. “I gotta… gotta go to the doctor or something! We gotta fix this!”

“First,” Garrett said, finally ending his recording and putting his phone away, “we gotta get you out of this bar. Once that waitress comes out, she’s gonna be mighty sad that her cute little QB is gone and this big hairy manbearpig is nearly naked.”

“HA! Manbearpig!” Mason said, giving Kirk a poke in his big hairy gut. “Cuz you’re a big fat hairy man who’s strong as a bear!”

“You are strong,” Garrett said. “Can’t wait to give it a shot in the gym. We’ll try it out later. But now, let’s get you home, get you in some size XXXL clothes, and we’ll have a chat about what’s going to happen.”

“No,” Kirk said. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.” He doubled his fists, flexed his newfound bulk, and pushed Garrett away. The center was shocked as the triple-sized quarterback actually moved his mass a few feet. The shock didn’t last long.

“Aw, you like being big, Kirk? Fun, isn’t it? All that size and brawn. You can push people around pretty easy! But here’s the thing.” Garrett moved forward as Mason and Brian flanked Kirk, boxing him in with their barrel-shaped bodies. “You’ve been big for all of five minutes. We’ve been big for all our lives. Who do you think is gonna win out here?”

“Coach said we don’t have to go easy on your face anymore,” Brian spat. “He said we can bruise that pretty mug if we have to.”

Kirk blinked as he looked at the glowering men around him. “Wait, coach knows about this?”

***

Kirk sat in the passenger seat of Garrett’s truck, staring down at the seat belt bisecting his meaty manboobs. He gingerly squeezed one, grateful to feel dense muscle underneath the layer of softness. Somehow that reassured him despite everything else that had happened. Regardless, he longed for some clothes that fit his massive frame.

“Yeah, it’s all done,” Garrett said into his phone as he drove. “Yup. No witnesses. Bar was empty, just like you said. We didn’t even have to bribe the staff. They weren’t in the room.”

“Who are you talking t–” Kirk began, but Garrett pointed a finger at him and Kirk fell silent. It surprised him, how easily his will to speak died out in him from just a gesture from Garrett. He wanted to speak, but found he no longer could.

“Oh, he turned out HUGE. You’re going to be happy,” Garrett said, giving a glance over to Kirk, who felt even more uncomfortable under the center’s appraising gaze. “I’m bringing him back to his place now. We’ll get him all squared away for practice tomorrow.”

“Practice? I can’t practice like this!” Kirk protested, trying to imagine maneuvering on the field with all of that bulk. Garrett gave him a stern look and Kirk sat back in his seat quietly, like a reprimanded child.

After Garrett hung up the phone, he patted Kirk’s huge belly. “Good news, big guy. Coach is psyched about your transformation. He sees big things in your future.”

“Coach KNEW about this?” Kirk asked.

“Coach ordered this,” Garrett said. He pulled up outside Kirk’s house. “Go inside, grab anything you absolutely need, and get back in the car. We’ll send over movers for the rest later.”

Kirk stumbled from the car. As he walked to the door, he heard a loud rip from his underwear, feeling a cold burst of air on his oversized rear end. “Fuck!” he said, throwing back his big paws to cover up the exposed crack. Garrett grinned.

“Don’t be shy!” he called from the driver’s seat. “Nothing I haven’t seen in the showers anyway.”

Everything in Kirk’s house felt too small. He hit his head on the top of doors and clipped walls with his elbows. The sound of his heavy feet hitting the ground, shaking the whole house, made him incredibly self-conscious. He felt like a bull in a china shop, a massive change from the way he was used to gracefully moving his tight, athletic build before.

In his closet, he held shirts up against his chest and grimaced when he realized how tiny everything–even his largest shirts–looked against his massive body now. He managed to squeeze into a baggy pair of sweatpants, but his feet seemed to have doubled in size, so shoes were out of the question.

He finally emerged from the house with a duffel bag roughly packed with toiletries. As he crammed himself back into the passenger seat, a question dawned on him: “Wait, why am I going with you anyway?”

“Coach wants me to acclimate you to your new body,” Garrett explained. “You notice how you’re letting me call the shots? All part of what we gave you. It’ll help me retrain you to be what you are now.”

“I don’t get why this is all happening,” Kirk said. “You’re talking like… like this is permanent…”

Garrett gently stroked Kirk’s chubby cheek with the back of his hand. “Don’t be sad, big guy. Just remember… next time you give an interview about why the team lost, maybe don’t blame the O-line for all the sacks? We’re going to teach you to respect your linemen, and this is the best way to accomplish that.”

Kirk was no stranger to Garrett’s house. It was late and he was tired (and still a little buzzed from the booze, AND the massive transformation). Garrett directed him to the guest shower, where Kirk lathered up his huge frame and took time to explore it. He just couldn’t believe how brawny he was now. The amount of space he took up was absurd. He was most shocked when he fiddled with his fat little cock, which had stumped down while the rest of him had blown up, and his big ass. Just placing his hands on the wide rump made his skin tingle, and when his fingers curiously slipped into the crack, his knees grew weak and he saw stars…

After his shower, he found a new outfit laid out for him on his guest bed. He held up the boxers and sighed. They were as big as a pillowcase–but when he slipped them on, they fit comfortably. When he slept, he dreamt he was on the field but the other players were all miniature. He stomped on the six inch tall opponents and flicked them out of the way as he stomped his way to victory, feeling like a giant beast the whole time. When he began scooping up the tiny players and shoveling them into his mouth, he woke with a start. His big belly was rumbling.

Kirk was anxious as they approached the locker rooms. How was he going to explain all of this to the rest of their team? Garrett grabbed him by the shoulder and directed him to Linemen alley, where the other gargantuan men changed. “You’re over here with us from now on,” Garrett explained. “By the way, everyone’s going to be treating you like a new teammate until they get used to the change. So don’t be surprised when they don’t acknowledge you as their QB, got it?”

What else could Kirk say? Several times he tried to summon the strength to resist Garrett’s firm guidance, but he couldn’t act on it for some reason. As he watched the other players filtering through the locker room, his stomach sank as he realized he’d be going to the weight room with the other linemen.

“Strength training for you, big boy,” Garrett said with a slap on his ass. “Let’s see what that big body can do.” As foreign as it felt to be taking to the gym with Mason and Brian flanking him, Kirk was excited to see how his new muscles would perform.

“That’s it, big guy! That’s it!” Garrett growled as Kirk squatted over four hundred pounds for twenty-two reps. Kirk had never worked this hard before! “Fuck, you’re a powerhouse! We should’ve unlocked that big body a long time ago!”

As they stumbled away from the gym, exhausted, Kirk saw the rest of the team meeting a young, athletic man. “Boys, meet Jarrett, your new quarterback,” Coach informed them. Kirk studied the young, fit man, instantly jealous of his long, lean limbs and his angular face. He felt a new emotion, somewhere deep in him. The quarterback’s icy blue eyes, his confident smile. Kirk felt his eyes sinking down to the man’s groin, and the bulge in his shorts.

“This… this isn’t temporary, is it?” Kirk asked Garrett, his legs still screaming from their unbelievable workout.

Garrett just wrapped him up in an ursine hug. Something about the feeling of all that warm bulk surrounding him, pressing up against his own broad body, immediately comforted Kirk. “Don’t even think about it, big man,” Garrett said in a sweet tone that differed from the commands he’d been barking for the past twenty-four hours.

“Yeah, your job’s different now,” Brain informed him. “It’s way easier. Just do as you're told. You’re a wrecking ball now. It’s a lot easier!”

“Do a good job, and maybe your QB won’t rag on you on national television,” Mason sneered.

Garrett turned around to face his half-ton teammates. “All right, boys, linemen gotta eat. Chinese buffet time.”

Kirk’s heart pounded. He was SO hungry he couldn’t stand it. “God damn,” he growled. “Are you guys hungry like this all the time?”

Mason and Brian laughed as Kirk’s keg-belly loudly rumbled.

*

Kirk lumbered out of the restaurant feeling like a bear on the verge of hibernation season. All he wanted to do was sleep. It was shocking how often he kept forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to be like this. Every few minutes his instincts would take over, he’d naturally embrace him, and something would softly scream in his head that he was Kirk Cousins, a fit quarterback, not some oversized gorilla.

In Garrett’s truck once again, the center looked at him with a soft expression. “So, lots of women in that restaurant. Did you notice?”

Kirk shuddered. Of course he’d noticed–that they hadn’t noticed him, at all. He was so used to being the focal point of the women in every room; now, they didn’t even glance at him.

“No,” Kirk lied, but his eyes had fallen on Garrett’s thick fingers, his broad face, the density of his body, the large mound in his pants…

“You noticing anything different now?” Garrett asked, one beefy mitt sliding down to arrange the tent in his pants.

A bead of sweat dribbled down Kirk’s forehead. A part of him longed to somehow get back to his old self–to lead the team, to stand confident in his quickness and skill, to be admired by men and women and not stared at as some gargantuan oaf.

Another part of him wanted Garrett on top of him. He wanted to feel the weight of that man bearing down on him. He longed to be in Garrett’s power even more than he had been the last day.

“Is this…” Kirk asked as he found himself leaning in, drawn to Garret’s lips. “...part of the thing you did to me? Did you make sure I’d… want this?” he said, his sausage-fingers interlocking with Garrett’s.

“Does it matter?” Garrett asked as their mouths grew close.

It didn’t.