Footballer - Getting Into the Game

There was a strange rhythm to the game that Alex enjoyed. Even with his eyes closed he could picture the game perfectly: the thump of the football being launched by a boot, the cheer of the crowd rising until it was about to burst, before dissipating in a frustrated groan as the shot went wide. Alex clapped along with his fellow supporters at his local grounds, joining in with a few encouraging cheers, but for him they felt hollow.

Alex looked down at the players, knowing that he wanted nothing more than to be there on the pitch alongside them. Not as a fan, but as peer, able to support the team with his skills rather than shouts. The weekend before, Alex had taken part in a trial for new players and was rejected. He knew the coach and captain were just doing what was best for the team and that they picked younger, fitter players than Alex, but knowing the reality of his situation didn’t stop it from stinging. He felt too distant from the fans surrounding him, knowing he was capable of something better, but at the same time being part of the team was an impossibility. Returning to the ground was a habit, and one that was a reminder of his failure.

Too absorbed in his own misery, Alex barely realised the final whistle blew, followed by a steady filtering out of many of his fellow fans, shuffling past him after another disappointing loss and back to their homes. It was only when Alex heard a second whistle did he snap out of his daydream. A new set of players were on the pitch, fresh to the field and ready to play. Alex looked between them, trying to see if he recognised any of them, and eventually he realised why he did not. All the players were women. Alex, a little shamefully, didn’t even realise that his local team had a women’s section. From the absence of fans in the stands, he realised that few others did either. With nothing better to do, Alex watched the game.

He wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t view the women’s team as competition for his own dream position or if he was just finally paying attention, but Alex found the game enthralling. The tiresome diving and petty arguments with the referee seemed to be missing from the sport. He found himself cheering as a technical play around a defender saw the ball flying towards the opposing side’s goal, only to be deftly touched over the crossbar by her fingertips at the last moment. It was exhilarating, far more than any time he had watched men play the sport. When the final whistle blew, his team had won, scraping a narrow, well-deserved victory. Alex was cheering louder than ever.

One of the players waved at him with a smile, beckoning him down towards the pitch. Alex looked over his shoulder sheepishly, but the stand was practically empty. The footballer wanted to speak to him. With a lump in his throat, he made his way to the pitch.

“Hey! Thanks for coming along”, the woman said, grinning from the adrenaline of the win. Her breath was still ragged, slowly returning to normal. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, have I?”

“No! It’s my first time watching. I mean, not the first time watching football, obviously!” Alex said, suddenly aware of how nervous he was, the words stumbling out of his mouth before he could properly think about what he was saying. The woman was tall, athletic, with a sheen of sweat over her skin. She was beautiful, and it strangely scared him. The woman chuckled softly and all of Alex’s fears vanished in an instant.

“We don’t get many supporters”, the woman said, nodding behind Alex at the empty stand. “So, I appreciate you coming along.”

“Thanks! I mean, it’s cool!” Alex blurted out. He hated how nervous he felt around the woman but felt powerless to stop it.

“I’m Becky, by the way”, the woman said, extending one hand to shake his. “I’m the team captain.”

Alex shook it, remembering the quiet words the woman was having to other players on the pitch and some skilful plays that originated from a subtle hand gesture, pointing out the opposing team’s vulnerabilities.

“I’m Alex! Good to meet you. I usually watch just the men’s team, but I’m glad I stuck around for yours.”

“We hear that a lot!” Becky said, laughing once again. Despite having just played an intense game for over ninety minutes, Alex was amazed by the energy she still possessed. Becky looked at him for a moment, sizing him up. “Did you do try outs last weekend? I heard they had to turn down an Alex”, Becky said sympathetically.

“Yeah, that’s right”, Alex said, trying to smother his disappointment, though he felt as though Becky was able to see right through it.

“I wouldn’t take it personally. I didn’t make it onto the team on my first time either!” she said with a smile.

“Really?” Alex asked. It was difficult for him to imagine Becky being anything other than a footballer, she seemed to live and breathe the sport.

“Really! You should do some training and see if you make it next season, I’m sure you’ll have a better chance then”, Becky said, grinning. “I’ll tell you what: why don’t I coach you?”

“Coach me?” Alex asked, incredulously.

“Yeah! You can watch my games, then afterwards we can work on building you up to a competitive level.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Why not?” Becky said with a smile. “It’ll be like a cool down for me, and a big workout for you. What do you say?”

Alex took a moment to think. Becky’s offer was tempting, but it came with it the implicit risk of embarrassing himself once again next season. Would he be able to cope with that disappointment a second time? He looked at the bright green pitch beneath the studs of Becky’s boots, and realised it was worth it.

“Let’s do it”, Alex said.

“Great!” Becky responded, swiftly climbing over the small barrier on the edge of the pitch and walking into the stands.

“What are you doing?”

“Your training starts now – I’m starving!” Becky said, moving quickly between the seats and towards the exit of the small stadium. “Let’s get some lunch!”

Soon, Alex and Becky fell into a comfortable routine. He’d watch her game, get some food, then do some training together. Absorbed by the force of her personality, he felt that he could do little to resist spending time with the footballer. Eventually, he would forgo watching the busier male game before the women played, soon growing into one of the team’s most fervent supporters. Between the snippets of gossip that Becky mentioned during their healthy lunches and watching the players themselves, Alex felt as though he knew them all far better than he had ever known the male team. They weren’t just untouchable players that he aspired to be like, but fully realised people that he knew he would enjoy spending time with off of the pitch, as well as on it.

If the lunches with Becky were relaxing and enlightening, her training sessions were the opposite. The quiet ferocity that he had managed to glimpse from the stands was unleashed in the gym or on the track. At first, Becky’s motivational speeches seemed cutting and personal, critiquing his performance, but as the months wore on Alex realised that she wasn’t just taking out her frustration on him, but genuinely wanting to see him improve. The two set the goal together of Alex making it into the men’s team during the next try outs, and the lofty aim became the driving force for both of them. For Alex, it would finally show that he had achieved something he set out to do, and for Becky, being able to show that her training was effective enough to turn a rookie into a player that made the squad would improve her standing with the whole of the club.

Alex realised that training for the game was far more than just kicking a ball around. For weeks, Becky didn’t even let him touch one. Instead, she built up his cardio, her voice constantly behind him, urging him to continue when it felt like he couldn’t move another step, the taste of lactic acid across his tongue. She improved his agility through speed exercises, quickly dismissing his concerns about how ‘girly’ skipping felt and slowly making his feet nimbler. The main reason that Alex felt as though he was able to keep up with the harsh training regime (alongside the accompanying strict diet plan that Becky had custom made for him), was that he was starting to see results. Every time he ran, he was slowly seeing numbers get chipped off of his personal best. Gradually, he found that the milestones he had once set himself of a certain number of laps or a landmark that Becky made him speed by were surpassed, each time Alex finding it easier to breathe, his cardiovascular fitness building up to a much more athletic level. By the time he put on his football boots and began to work on his dribbling, he was already finding it easier than he remembered, the natural strength and dexterity of his body making each movement a breeze.

Their friendship grew almost as much as Alex’s abilities did. Alex was envious of Becky – the exercises that managed to exhaust him for hours seemed simple to her, the woman moving through runs and ball challenges as if they were second nature. Despite her assurances that it didn’t come naturally and that she had to train for every bit of skill she had, Alex struggled to believe her. She made it all look so easy.

Soon, the fateful day arrived and Alex had laced up his boots, ready for the try out. He felt less nervous than he had done previously. Becky’s training had made him feel confident in his abilities, and the try outs would be the same as last time, just now he had the benefit of already trying and failing at them once. But, after an embarrassingly short time, he found himself dismissed and asked to return to the changing room. A new batch of younger, fitter players were his competition, and he had failed. Their natural gift and speed was far superior to his hard fought skill. Despite the assurances of the team captain that he had clearly improved and to try again at the next session, he returned to the changing room with a heavy heart.

Becky was waiting for him outside. By now, she could read him easily, and soon embraced him in a warm hug. There was never any sexual connection between them, and Alex was glad about that now. At that moment, he just needed someone to hold him.

“I’m sorry, Alex”, Becky said, her face muffled into his shoulders. “We’ll do some more training and I’m sure you’ll get in next time.”

“What’s the point?” Alex said back. “Another few months of exhausting myself, only to be reminded that I’ll never be good enough.”

“I don’t think that’s true!” Alex said, pulling away from him with the kindly smile that had drawn him to the pitch in the first place. “You are a talented footballer. You’ve proven it to me, you just need a chance to prove it to them.”

“Well, I tried that, and look where it got me”, Alex said, grumpily. He knew that there were more important things in life than making it onto his local football team, but it was just another failure to add to the ever-increasing pile.

“What if it’s not you? What if it’s the team?” Becky said, as if struck by an idea.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to play with those guys, or are you just interested in playing?”

Alex took a moment to think. Initially, he realised that his desire to join the team was just so that he could be as popular as the other players. Through Becky, he had developed something more important than his skills: a love for the game. He wanted to play football, no matter where or who he was playing with.

“There’s no other squad I can join, though”, Alex said sadly. Becky grinned, beginning to walk down the corridor.

“Come with me!” she said, pushing through the door of the women’s changing room. Alex froze.

“I can’t go in there! That’s for women”, he said. He heard Becky scoff from inside the room and soon her strong arm reached out, dragging him inside.

It was the perfect match of the men’s room, though far cleaner. A bright pink bottle of an unlabelled sports drink was resting on a bench, alongside a neatly folded kit.

“What if I told you that you could play with me on the women’s team?” Becky said.

“How would I do that?” Alex said, walking in behind her, the click-clack of his studs on the floor echoing.

Becky pointed to the pink liquid, swirling in the plastic bottle.

“Drink that, and it’ll turn you into a woman. Temporarily, of course, but enough time to complete a try out for the women’s team. We always start after the men”, she said confidently. Alex paused for a moment, trying to discern whether or not she was joking. Becky had never really joked around with him before, and it would be odd to throw a prank on him right when he was feeling vulnerable. But, her claim was so ludicrous that it had to be a joke. Alex couldn’t help but laugh, but Becky’s face remained serious.

“I’m not joking, Alex”, she said, frowning. “If you don’t believe me, take a sip.”

“Oh sure”, Alex said, still laughing. Becky’s face didn’t move. If only to prove her wrong, Alex grabbed the bottle, flipping open the cap and taking a swig. It tasted sweet and sugary, like the many high glucose drinks he had chugged throughout his training. He swallowed, pausing for mock effect.

“See, nothing. Thanks for trying to cheer me up, but I think I need to realise that the footballing life isn’t for me”, Alex said.

A smile crept to Becky’s lips. Unthinkingly, Alex brushed something away from his face as he felt a tickle on his cheek. Alex’s hand stopped, and he grabbed what he had just touched, tugging at it slowly. He felt a corresponding pressure in his scalp, and looking at his fingertips, he gasped as he saw a strand of long blonde hair. His mind was racing, trying to work out a possible cause, but he knew the answer. Becky hadn’t been lying about the bottle.

“I’ll see you at try outs, Alex”, Becky said slowly, touching him softly on the arm. “I’ll leave you to get changed”, she added, motioning to the kit and heading out of the changing room.

Alex’s body felt bizarre, his skin softening every moment. Every nerve ending felt alive. He quickly glanced in the mirror to see his hair had now grown longer, spilling over the shoulders of the kit in a brilliant blonde. There was a strange feeling deep within himself – the changes didn’t just feel weird, they felt right, as if his body was naturally suited to being in this shape.

Beneath his kit, Alex felt what little fat remained after his training shifting. The muscles he had built grew more compact, but no less powerful, well proportioned and graceful across his body. Alex was desperate to see what was happening as he spotted the fat bubbling and moving beneath his tight kit, painlessly adjusting beneath the skin. He tore off his clothes, standing nude in the changing room as he watched the transformation continue, after taking another swig of the drink.

The fat was coalescing. His thighs grew thicker, swelling until they were broad and thick, though more from the bulk of the muscle beneath them rather than the layer of fat. They were perfectly formed to launch the ball across the goal line or to clear it away from the defender’s box. Running his hand on his rear, Alex gasped as he felt how pert and athletic it had grown.

The fat surged upwards, and Alex felt his nipples grow hard as the flesh beneath them softened. With another mouthful of the delightfully sweet drink, Alex watched them grow into a pair of perky breasts. He let out an unexpected giggle, feeling his shoulders slim down and adjust to the weight of them. With a dull, painless crack, his hips expanded, bringing a slight curviness to Alex’s athletic figure. He felt a twitch in his jaw, and ran over to the mirror, watching his face closely, almost excited to see what would change next.

Alex’s jawline was gone, shifting his whole head into a more oval shape with cute dimples now present on his cheeks. His nose thinned, followed by his eyebrows. A gentle covering of makeup appeared around his eyes, giving them the illusion of being larger than they were. Somehow, Alex knew that the makeup would be especially chosen to last on the pitch. He looked over his body – it was indistinguishable from that of a young, athletic woman, with one exception.

Alex looked down at his shrinking manhood between his legs. In any other circumstance, he knew he should have been panicking. Strangely, he didn’t mind seeing it go, remembering Becky’s words that the change would just be temporary. She hadn’t lied about the transformation so far, so why would she lie about that? Alex slurped the last of the drink, watching his shaft vanish, soon replaced by a fresh blossom of womanhood. Alex laughed, hearing her voice now higher.

“Oh my god”, she mumbled, one small hand swiftly covering her lips. Far off, she heard a whistle blowing, and immediately remembered the try outs – the whole reason for the change. Frantically, Alex threw herself into the kit. Becky had left more than just the kit, tucked up inside. Alex squeezed herself into a sports bra, finding her breasts compressed in the tight fabric, and slid a pair of athletic panties up until they sat comfortably on her rear. The shorts and shirt were familiar to her, but seemed to be closer fitting than the men’s kit that she was used to. After pulling the socks up over her slender legs, Alex fastened the boots and ran out onto the pitch.

Becky was busy leading a warm up and seemed to barely take notice of the extra player. A slight raise of her eyebrows was all that she gave in acknowledgement, and Alex grinned as she worked through some stretches. She wasn’t going to get any special treatment, and that excited her. She looked at the other potential players beside her, hoping she was good enough to beat them.

Becky’s whistle blew once more, and the women went about their exercises, followed by a brief mock game. Alex thrived. She wanted to believe it was the training that was finally paying off, but she knew the cause of her sudden skills couldn’t solely be put down to it: she felt better in this body than she had ever done in her old one. She was confident, fast, and powerful, easily dribbling the ball around defenders or trying daring manoeuvres that she would have only dreamed of as a man. By the time the trial finished, Alex’s place on the team was secure. Before she had time to celebrate, she rushed off back to the changing room, anxious that she would change back into her male body in front of everyone else.

“Congratulations, Alex”, Becky said smugly when she caught up with her friend. Alex was back to his old body, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. “I hope that wasn’t too much of a surprise.”

“No! It was good! Really good”, Alex said. He went to brush his hair behind his ear, subconsciously not realising that it was now back to its short length.

“I’m glad”, Becky said, touching his hand softly. “I was thinking – I brew up a potion like that every time we have training or play, and you’ll get the chance to truly get into the game. What do you say?”

Alex took a deep breath, thinking. It had been a day of wild surprises, but he knew that amongst those surprises he had learned something about himself that he had never before realised. He was happier in that new body than he had ever been in his old one.

“Let’s do it – on one condition”, he said, trying to pick his words carefully.

“Sure! What is it?” Becky asked.

“Do you think I could be in that body off the pitch too?” Alex said sheepishly. “Forever?”

“Forever?” Becky asked, musing. “I suppose I could brew something special that would lock in the transformation. Is that definitely something you want?”

“Definitely”, Alex said, smiling. He turned, quickly moving towards the stadium’s exit.

“Where are you going?” Becky called after him.

“I’m starving – let’s get some lunch!” Alex said, excited for the new life that awaited him as part of the squad.

=====

A wholesome commission for MattMartina! As I am a Bri'ish writer, any American readers will have to cope with the fact that this is football, not handegg. Sorry.