Coach's "Program"

[6 word request: Disobeying Teams Towel Boy Transfers Size]

[note: once I’m caught up on my queue I’ll be continuing this story]

After their crushing defeat, the Granite State Goliaths headed back to their locker room feeling lower than ever. Other than the sound of their large bodies shuffling around, the locker room was silent. They all glanced over at Coach’s office, where he was chatting with Tyler, the towel boy. Some of the players focused on the conversation, trying to read lips. Others just ignored it, shedding their gear with a pit in their stomach.

Anders, the team’s big tight end, cried out when he opened his locker. Inside was a uniform that wasn’t his. He yanked it out and held it up, examining the jersey and tight pants, made for a man half his size. He tossed them to the ground. “Who the fuck put that in there?” he yelled as some of his teammates smirked and laughed at him.

“It’s gonna be you,” said Ellis, the wide receiver. “It’s your turn, bro. Plus, you dropped that pass, man! Coach is gonna have Tyler take you out for sure.”

Anders, a 6’5” broad-shouldered tower of sinews, kicked the small uniform away. “It ain’t gonna be me, man.” He stripped down defiantly, determined to keep his head held high as he hopped into the shower--and passed by Tyler, who would be waiting to deliver his curse on whoever the coach had chosen.

No one knew how Tyler got his power, or when coach first discovered it. The legend was that Tyler was getting his ass beat in high school by the biggest guy in his school, when BAM, the guy ended up five-foot-nothing, swimming in his clothes. Tyler, now a 6’5” brute, pummeled the shrunken man easily. The two stayed like that until summertime, ending the big guy’s football career, as well as his chance to play ball in college. The way most guys tell the story, Tyler liked to visit the dude every Thanksgiving and swap their sizes again. The big guy was more fat than muscle now, managing a gas station, but Tyler always left him a doughy little butterball, strutting around town with about fifty extra pounds of muscle on his frame.

Supposedly, Coach originally offered Tyler a spot on the team, with plans to put that weird little gift to use on the field (“No rules against it!”) but Tyler had no interest in playing. But being the towel boy, and exacting Coach’s punishments on the team after a loss, were opportunities Tyler apparently couldn’t pass up. The rules were simple: if the team loses a game, one of the guys loses all his muscles and brawn and spends the next to weeks as a scrawny little shit while Tyler struts around built like a clydesdale.

That’s why the Goliaths regarded Tyler, normally 5’6” tall and about as big as one of the lineman’s thighs, with much respect and even more fear. Tyler knew the power he had over these big beasts, especially since he was backed by the coach, and he used that to his advantage.

After leaving Coach’s office, Tyler strutted through the locker room, seeming to bask in the power of what he was about to do. Gendron, the kicker, nodded at Tyler as he passed by. “So, uh, Tyler, who’d coach pick this time?” Gendron’s fearlessness, of course, came from the fact that there was no way Tyler would steal Gendron’s short stature and relatively compact frame. Tyler just winked at him.

“Oh, you’ll find out,” he said, rolling the cart of fresh towels over to the showers.

One by one, the Goliaths walked out of the shower nude, dripping wet, tentatively collecting their towels from Tyler before hustling past, lest they catch his attention too much. Westinghouse, the quarterback, froze up as Tyler handed him his towel, his posture dissolving once he realized he was in the clear. Paciello, the runningback, squared up his short, stocky frame as he snatched the towel, audibly sighing once he passed unchanged.

Anders had done his best to ignore the team’s whispers that it would be him. He pounded his big fist against his meaty chest (as if to take it in one last time before it was gone) then took the towel, closing his eyes as he expected to meet his fate. Tyler just chuckled.

“Anders, get your big swinging dick out of the way, you knucklehead. Other guys need towels.”

Anders smirked, looked around, and pumped his fist, grateful to still be a big muscular jock.

Once Anders had passed, a buzz rose in the locker room. Everyone had been certain, after the missed pass that cost them the game, that Anders would be pint-sized and scrawny for the near future. Now that he was safe, who was on the chopping block?

Coach, a former lineman himself, emerged from his office at that point, stunned as he saw Anders getting dressed, still full-sized. “Tyler,” he said as he approached. “Tyler, we discussed this. What are you playing at?”

As if in response to Coach’s query, Tyler winked at the big bull of a man, then turned to Connors, the team’s Defensive End, and held up a towel. “Big guy like you,” Tyler said to the thick-necked pile of hairy muscles, “you usually need two towels, right? Let me remedy that for you.” Then Tyler snapped his fingers. In a moment, the 6’6” shaven-headed mastodon of a man vanished. Instead of Connors’ 330 pound form, there stood a bald, shivering little wisp of a guy just over five feet tall.

Almost as shocking as the team’s biggest player deflating into a runt was Tyler’s sudden explosion of growth. His clothes burst to shreds as he sprouted out and up. All that bulk that had evaporated from Connors’ frame had appeared on Tyler, who stood admiring his massive arms, bouncing his big pec shelf and giving his newly huge cock a jostle.

“Dammit, Tyler!” Coach said as he pushed passed the confused players, grabbing tiny Connors by the shoulders and looking him in the eyes, The shrunken man looked terrified to be looking UP at so many men, and his eyes went wide as a man three times his size grabbed him in his thick paws. “Connors holds every lifting PR we have! That’s not what we agreed on! Change him back right now!”

Tyler gave his tree-trunk thighs a slap before shaking his head. “Coach, you’re scaring the little guy! It’s probably been a good ten years since Connors wasn’t the biggest guy in the room, and to get manhandled by someone over a foot taller and two hundred pounds heavier has got to have his tiny little heart fluttering…” Tyler snapped his fingers again. In a blink Coach’s stature fell in upon itself. His pants, still belted, hit the floor, his polo shirt hanging like a dress.

He still had his signature crew cut and moustache, but the big brute was now just as small as Connors. It was a toss-up who looked more ridiculous: Connors wrapping a huge towel around his scrawny frame or Coach holding up a waistband that looked about twenty inches too wide.

“You sonuvabitch!” Coach said, looking at his slender fingers, before taking in the absolute MONSTER Tyler had grown into. The little towel boy was no just over seven feet and so wide he would be turning sideways to get through doors now! The juggernaut flexed his enormous hands and examined his enormous musculature--every inch of him veiny and bulging.

“Holy shit! He’s like the literal hulk!” Anders said. The tight end cried out as a hand reached out and snatched grabbed Anders roughly by the arm. In his other huge hand he grabbed Coach by the shirt; his pants and shoes fell away as Tyler lifted the two of them up.

“So, here’s the thing, Coach,” Tyler said, holding the two together. Both Anders and Coach were terrified, but as Tyler pressed them together like dolls he was making kiss, the tight end looked mammoth in comparison. “You want to make this tall, strapping man into a little wimp? You tell him to your face. Tell Anders why he deserves to be tiny!”

Coach, hanging limply from Tyler’s grip, seemed to search hard for the right words. “Look, Anders, buddy, you know the system. And you dropping that pass was a really big deal. You know that!”

“Yeah, Coach, I know,” Anders said, his eyes darting back and forth between the gargantuan musclebeast holding him and the little twiggish man held just inches away. “I get it, honest, so… whatever’s for the good of the team!”

“See, here’s the thing,” Tyler said, dropping both men roughly. Anders landed on his feet but Coach collapsed in a pile. “I think it’s time Coach feels what it’s like to be little for once. How many of you guys lost your size to me and never could say a thing about it?” The other players, crowded around, started murmuring. “So let’s have Coach spend some time too weak to lift the toilet seat and see if he still wants to keep his system running when it’s over.” Tyler started striding away, his enormous cock swinging with each step.

“B-but you always got to be big!” Coach said to Tyler’s rippling back. “I gave you the biggest men on the team! You always got the biggest strongest muscles on the campus thanks to me!”

Tyler froze, then spun on a huge heel. “Listen, pipsqueak,” he said, his voice a low growl. He poked a sausage-sized finger into Coach’s scrawny chest. “I can have whatever muscles I want, when I want, so don’t act like you were doing me a favor. By the way, I quit as towel boy. Maybe you can fill in in the meantime?” He grabbed a handful of towels and tossed them at Coach with such force that the little guy toppled over.

“B-but why me?” Connors said, peering out from behind Westinghouse’s long legs. “Why did I get shrunk?”

Tyler shrugged. “You’re the biggest fucker on the team. I wanted to try on your size. Deal with it.” As Tyler stomped away, with one towel held down as a loincloth over his huge dick, the rest of the team could have sworn they could feel the earth shaking with every footstep.