Whatever Happened to J.J. Watt?

Darren Fells answered his hotel room door in his boxers. The team assistant held up a bag, shaking as he presented it to the large NFL player. “We found them! It wasn’t easy, but… we found them.”

Darren took the bag, stared at it a moment, then gave the assistant a quizzical look. He enjoyed the way the timid little man quavered under Darren’s silent glare. He opened the bag to see its contents: the cleats the airport had lost. They had been gone for four days, bouncing around the country in a series of accidents. He gave the assistant a weak smile.

“You’re lucky,” he said as he backed into his room. “You can’t imagine the world of shit I would have put you through if I didn’t have these by the next game.”

He slammed the door, then dropped the bag on the table by the door as he went to the couch. He took a swig of his beer before his big, muscular body collapsed into the soft leather. It mattered to him that he treated the missing cleats as the inanimate objects they were. He was making a point.

He hadn’t planned on the ESPNews report about the still-missing J.J. Watt. He smirked as it appeared on screen.

“It’s been 2 years since NFL Player J.J. Watt’s disappearance, and police are still without clues. His fans, however, haven’t forgotten him…”

“Hear that?” Darren called to the bag by the door. “Fans haven’t forgotten J.J. Watt.” It was time. He slowly rose to his feet, strutted to the bag, and peeked inside. He ran his fingers over both of the cleats, but pulled out the right one and cradled it in his arm. He ran his strong fingers over its black leather, its red laces, around its sharp tines, and finally slowly along its rim. “You’re just dying from all this, aren’t you?” he said.

He opened the shoe wide, taking another long whiff of its deliciously musky insides--his own foot smell, plus a sharp masculine musk. Then he loosened the laces and slid his foot inside. “Still feels perfect. Nice fit. I was worried you’d be gone forever.”

He wriggled his toes in the fitted cleat, filling it with his own warmth, before uttering a few arcane words: “Achnem, ut’solis, rem’na…”

His voice echoed as he spoke each eldritch syllable. He felt the shoe suddenly reshaping around his foot. It melted like warm wax, exposing his foot, and congealing in a pile beneath it. He smiled as he felt the faint bodyheat of a tiny man beneath his sole. He gently pressed down before lifting his foot away, eager to greet his old buddy.

J.J. Watt lay there nude and only nine inches tall. He blinked his eyes as he got used to seeing light again, then gently patted his hands down his thickly built body. Darren smirked as his little toy got reacquainted with having human body parts. J.J.’s posture relaxed as he flexed his biceps and cricked his neck back and forth--that is, until his hands got to his bare, smooth groin, shiny and featureless as a Ken doll.

“You miss me little man?”

Little J.J. stared up Darren’s--to him--impossibly huge body, falling to his knees and throwing his hands up in worship. He bowed down, then rose and bowed again. He seemed to be mouthing something, but since Darren took away the little blonde athlete’s voice, he would never know what the tiny lineman had to say.

Darren stomped his foot down on J.J., twisting his heel like he was squashing a bug. J.J. couldn’t be harmed, so he just enjoyed the feeling of that dense little body writhing against the pressure, smashed into the carpet, helpless to the enormous foot of his god.

Darren kept his foot pressed down hard for the duration of an entire commercial. He wanted to J.J. to be desperate for the immense force bearing down on him to cease; he wanted the little man to wonder if this would be the time he ended up a stain to be wiped away by a bit of tissue later.

When he lifted his foot, he snatched up J.J. by the waist between his big and middle toes. He savored the feeling of J.J.’s bodyheat and muscle squirming as he kicked his legs helplessly. Darren raised his legs until J.J. had a dizzying view of the room, then spread his toes wide. J.J. waved his arms as he tumbled, but just before he hit the ground Darren kicked swiftly with his other foot, launching the little man across the room.

“D’negg norrh! D’negg duhne romnia!” Darren chanted. J.J.’s body spun through the air, but the tiny man was a cleat again before he struck the wall.

Darren walked toward the cleat, then strode past it to the fridge. On the way back he nudged it out of the way with his toe, aware that J.J. could feel and sense everything that was going on around him. He didn’t approach the inanimate “man” until he was finished with his beer.

Darren loomed over the cleat, casually jostling his junk as he stared at what used to be a massive, powerful man lying motionless on the floor. Then he squatted down, clucking his tongue as he nudged the shoe with the empty beer bottle.

“You know, J.J.,” he said, lifting up the cleat and talking directly into it in slow, deep tones, “I can turn you into whatever I want. I could make it so you have no arms or legs, and you’d just wriggle around as a muscular little snake-man. Or I could make you a big, thick cock with big juicy balls. Would it drive you nuts if I edged you forever and never let you cum?”

Darren rose to his full height as the perfect idea came to him. He chanted the words without revealing what their effect would be, then smiled as he saw the cleat starting to melt and shift.

Instead of a muscular, dickless man, the mass shrank even smaller, forming into a crunchy brown shell with several segmented legs and two antennae waving wildly. J.J., now a cockroach, scuttled around the carpet in confusion, clearly overwhelmed by his new body. Darren wondered what the little guy was going through with only legs, and too many of them, as well as two useless wings, plus antennae overwhelming him with sensory information.

“Just a word, J.J.-roach, you’re not invulnerable in this form, and if you get squashed, your roach soul goes to the roach afterlife!” Darren stomped a foot down and chuckled as the bewildered insect scuttled away in a zigzag. Darren stomped the other foot closer to his prey and watched J.J. reverse directions, heading toward the safety of the couch.

Darren grabbed a magazine from the hotel coffee table and rolled it up, slapping the floor just an inch away from the fleeing bug before it scurried toward the bathroom.

“Run, J.J.! Don’t get splattered!” Darren performatively stomped toward his fleeing teammate. “C’mon, where’s all that J.J. Watt speed? You got six legs now, big man! You should be six times as fast!”

In the bathroom, Darren searched for the transformed defensive end, but got bored quickly. “You know what? I think maybe I’ll just leave you like this. I’m bored as hell of you, J.J. You stay here and try not to get exterminated. Maybe you’ll find a nice female roach to lay a bunch of your egg babies. You think any of them will have pretty blonde faces like their daddy? Hmm?”

He switched off the light and stepped out of the bathroom. “You have five minutes to come directly back to me or I’m shrinking you so small I can’t even see you.”

From the couch, Darren could see J.J.’s little cockroach body squeezing under the door crack. Unsure exactly how J.J. could see, he beckoned the little pest toward him with low, lilting tones, mocking the formerly enormous man for being so small and pathetic. “Come see daddy, you disgusting little vermin. I’ll hold up a mirror, let you see just how fucking revolting you are.”

As the roach circled his feet, Darren uttered the chant that shifted J.J. back into his tiny nullo man form. His chest heaved as he took deep breaths, enjoying the use of his human lungs. He collapsed on his back and rubbed his hands down his abdomen.

“Feels nice to have nice soft skin again, doesn’t it?” Darren gripped little J.J. between his toes again, then stomped toward the bathroom, enjoying the feel of the tiny NFL player flailing and undulating beneath every step. He snatched some nail clippers and some balm, then stomped performatively back to the couch.

“Time to earn your keep, little bitch,” Darren taunted, tossing the nail clippers down to his little captive. J.J. knew exactly what to do. He hoisted the clippers (which weighed more than half what he did) and positioned them over Darren’s big toenail. He squeezed the clippers with all of his might. Then he collected the toenail, big as a boomerang to him, and walked it to an ashtray Darren had set down. As he returned to do the next toe, little J.J. looked around as a few inches melted off his height. Now only five inches tall, the world looked even more massive to him--and using the clippers were an even greater effort.

Darren smiled at his tiny man. This form, J.J.’s human body with a smooth, shiny groin, worked just as any other human body did. Hard work sculpted it, and these many months of hard labor for his giant master had changed J.J. in ways his NFL career never could have. J.J. looked like he could compete on a bodybuilding stage now, his large frame now bulging with muscle on all sides that flexed with every movement. Being Darren’s slave was work, and seeing how eager J.J. was to please him made his dick jump in his boxers.

And that gave him an idea.

After J.J. finished clipped all of Darren’s toes, he grabbed a handful of greasy balm in each of his hands and deeply massaged each toe as Darren wiggled it, luxuriating in the feel of those strong, tiny hands working hard to make his master feel good. After each toe, and the space in between, was thoroughly rubbed down and worshipped, Darren tilted his foot up and J.J. went to work, throwing every measly ounce of his small but hyperdeveloped muscles into massaging Darren’s arch and his heel. He embraced each foot like it was a giant lover, humping it and rubbing his smooth groin uselessly against it.

Darren watched the show in the mirror across the room, wishing he had a close up view of J.J. enormous glutes pumping away as he worshipped the giant feet.

When Darren was finally satisfied, he quickly snatched up his little man, licking the tiny, sweaty body until he was slimy with Darren’s spit. Then he gently kissed J.J.’s tiny face before jamming him down on his dick.

J.J. prepared to be split in two by the enormous cock (which had made J.J.’s eyes bug out in the locker room more than once when he was full-sized) but where the dick touched him, he felt his body slightly liquefy. When Darren pulled his hand away, J.J. found his arms, legs and head extending from Darren’s rock-hard, veiny cock. As the little man flailed, overwhelmed by the feeling of being merged with a dick, Darren flexed his hips and groaned. He wanted to jerk his newly improved dick so badly, but he wanted to savor these sensations.

J.J. looked shocked as his arms and legs slowly receded into the massive dick. All that was left was his head, which sat in the place Darren’s cock head should have been. J.J. looked around, shocked, as his mouth went wide. His hair flew away in wisps as his face became more round. He opened his mouth but a dollop of precum poured from it. He blinked wildly until his eyes sealed shut, his mouth flattening into Darren’s piss slit.

Holy shit, Darren thought, I can feel him in my cock! The merging was so spectacular Darren couldn’t hold back any longer. He grabbed his dick and jerked it, feeling exactly what J.J. was feeling, hearing his panicked thoughts as he lost control. J.J. felt cum bubbling up within him. He wanted to see, to hear, but his body was rocked with powerful sensations. He was hopeless to fight them as his identity as a man slowly melted away. When Darren came, J.J. simply was a cock with a shadowy memory of once being a man.

Darren fired off volley after volley of a massive load, finally collapsing in a heap after one of the most intense orgasms of his life. He would let J.J. sleep as his cock overnight, but tomorrow he would awaken the powerful blond’s consciousness so he could spend the whole day nestled in Darren’s boxers, inflating every time Darren got a little frisky. He couldn’t wait to experience J.J. tasting Darren’s piss, going rock hard at Darren’s whims, spewing forth cum every time Darren squeezed him with his big powerful hand.

And he couldn’t wait to dream up J.J. next delicious form after he got tired of this one.