Super Bowl Trophy

[6 word request: Nick Bosa Enslaved to Travis Kelce]

[Shrinking, inanimate, body modification, animal TF, all sorts of TFs]

Travis Kelce stripped down to his jockstrap and took a look at how tightly packed and sweaty it was. With one hand he jiggled his junk and moaned. “You liking this, Nick?” he said as he watched a small pool of his salty sweat gathering on the locker room floor. He dug his thumbs under the jockstrap and felt what it felt: helplessness, panic, the feeling of being full.

Those were Nick Bosa’s thoughts. He gently rubbed his fingers over the jockstrap. “There there, big guy. Relax…” The caressing didn’t just soothe the panicked athlete-in-jockstrap-form; Travis’ big dick started to rise.

oh god you’re stretching me oh god why does this feel so good oh your dick is filling me up holy fuck you’re tenting me god you’re so fucking big i’m so feel please turn me back don’t ever let this stop i’m a man i’m a jockstrap oh god i need more of your sweat

Travis licked his lips before looking around. It was almost 2 am. He had the entire gym to himself. “You, big Nick, are going to swallow my load, guy.” He reached down and grabbed his big cock, still in the jockstrap, and gave it a stroke.

God it’s so good so good oh please travis turn me back fuck why haven’t i ever felt this good before fuck fuck fuck oh god yeah jerk your dick dump your load in me help me somebody please help me

Travis bit his lip when he actually felt the jockstrap starting to tighten on him. “Aw, Nick, you trying to hug me, big guy?” He gave the jockstrap a jostle, his dick an iron pipe at this point. The straps around his ass wriggled and squeezed. It started to radiate heat. Fuck--was it sweating too, or was that all Travis? The big tight end didn’t need much else to fire out his load. As he gushed through the soaked fabric, he felt Nick’s relief.

Thank you oh thank you travis oh god i love your cum fuck a guy just came in me oh god fuck yes please cum in me again

The blissful calm that each experienced after Travis’ load didn’t last long--for either of them. Travis stripped off the soaked jock and held it to his face, breathing deeply of his musky scent. He could feel the desire in Nick rising again; Nick’s resistance seemed to have faded somewhat as well. The longer Travis kept him in this form, the more Nick leaned into the role. In time, he thought, Nick might forget he was ever a man at all.

“But don’t worry, buddy,” Travis said as he tossed the jockstrap back on the floor. “Okay, be a man again.” The slimy fabric twitched and rippled, melting like wax as it turned from dingy white to the color of tan flesh. It reformed into an action-figure-sized man before it grew back to Nick Bosa’s 6’4” body. Travis leaned forward and grabbed Nick’s face in his hands.

“How was that, big guy?” he asked. Nick blinked, clearly dazed. Clearly the mental transition wasn’t as succinct as the physical one. From the blank look on Nick’s face, he wondered if some parts of his brain were still jockstrap--maybe some tiny parts of him would be like that always.

“You look like a frosted donut!” Travis said, scooping two fingerfuls of his own load off Nick’s face. He fed it to the bewildered defensive end with two fingers. Nick slurped the fingers in hungrily and sucked on them before seeming to come to his senses and pulling back.

“Travis… That was… a really long time…” Nick said as he took stock of his body, checking to make sure it was the one he remembered. “God, how long was I like that?”

“Two weeks,” Travis said. He flicked his tongue at Nick and winked. His whole body was vibrating with the power he had over Nick. His nipples were screaming for attention; fuck it, he’d give it to them. He gently tweaked them as Nick stood on big shaky legs, steading himself with a nearby bench.

“God, it seemed like so much longer…” Nick said. He looked around for something to cover up with. Travis tossed him a towel. “Why didn’t you wash me?”

“You really wanted me to throw you in a washing machine? You, swirling around in that soapy water, then taking a tumble in the hot dryer… That kinda thing might’ve driven you totally batty! I mean, how can you remember you’re supposed to be a man when you’re in the spin cycle with my dirty socks and my cum-stained underwear?”

Nick tied the towel around his waist, then sat down. He looked like he was trying to use yoga breathing to calm himself down, but he was still shaking. Travis admired the man’s thick muscular body. Everytime Nick returned to his form, Travis was reminded why having him under his control was such a prize.

“Can I be a man for a little while?” Nick said, flexing his fingers as he looked plaintively at Travis. “Just for a couple days. The last few times you changed me I barely had time to catch my breath.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “You know, you ask for favors like you still think I see you as a man. You’re not, big guy. You’re a slave. You do what I want, on my terms.”

“Not forever,” Nick blurted out. He looked up with wide-eyed shock; he clearly knew he had said something out of line.

“You know what? I think I want you to be a fart. That’s right. Your whole body’s gonna just melt into one big stinky invisible gas. I’ll open a door and you’ll just waft right out. Air conditioning is gonna suck you in, spray you in a thousand different directions. Maybe I’ll leave you like that for a week. You think you can go a week being scattered around this building? Wafting out the door into the atmosphere? I wonder what that’d feel like. I wonder if I could even find you to make you human again after? Hmm?”

Nick’s head sank between his beefy legs. Travis leaned out and clapped his palm a few times against Nick’s face. “Naw, I’m just playing, buddy. You want to be a man? I’ll let you be a man. Get out there, enjoy yourself. Get drunk! Get laid! You’ve been a good sport up until now.”

Nick’s body relaxed as he searched Travis’ face. Travis blew a kiss at his big studly slave. Just watching him try to figure out if he were serious or not was almost as delicious as what he planned to do.

“That’s right, big guy. Get up. Get dressed. Go enjoy yourself. Remember what being a man’s supposed to be about!”

Travis reached out a hairy hand to pull Nick to his feet. Nick, still unsteady, supported himself with Travis’ sturdy shoulder before finally rising to his full height and starting to walk away.

“Oh yeah, buddy, just one thing,” Travis said, reaching out so quickly Nick had no time to react. Travis’ furry paw went under the towel and grabbed Nick’s dick, giving it a squeeze. Nick knew better than to resist. Travis gave the dick a twist, and it came off in his hand.

He smirked as he presented a disembodied cock to Nick’s astonished face. Travis yanked back the towel to reveal Nick’s smooth crotch. Nick jerked back as Travis ran a hand over the blank spot where his cock and balls used to be, then raised the warm, pulsing cock in his hands to his mouth and blew gently on it before swallowing the head and flicking it with his tongue.

Nick moaned, his legs buckling. “Fuck! Fuck I can’t… oh god…”

“Oh yeah, it’s super sensitive now too,” Travis said as the cock in his hands stretched out into a full-mast boner. Travis slurped on the balls and Nick bucked his hips. “Must be mind-blowing to have all this pleasure come from a thing that isn’t attached to you, isn’t it?”

Nicks hands ran over his smooth pelvis as he moaned. “Stop… stop sucking it…”

“Don’t tell me what to do, big guy,” Travis said. He nipped gently at the balls and Nick yelped. “Imagine if I put this thing in a garbage disposal. Or smeared it with peanut butter and tossed it to some raccoons. If I were you I’d watch my damned tone, big man. Now get out there! Go have fun. Enjoy being a man. At least--as much of a man as you can be without this thing.”

Nick stumbled to his feet, snagged his towel, and slinked out of the locker room.

*

Nick was desperate for sleep but Travis wasn’t letting him have any. Every time Nick would start to doze off, Travis would start sucking his cock again. Frustrated, Nick would paw at the spot where he was experiencing these phantom sensations. The feeling of his own fingers on his blank crotch, combined with whatever Travis was doing to his cock at the time, were maddening.

He wanted so badly to cum, but every time he got close Travis would back. The edging was maddening. Nick was desperate for one bit of friction to get him some sort of relief, but Travis wouldn’t allow it.

“He can do what he wants,” Nick thought as he paced anxiously around his condo. “I’m not going to be conscious for it. He grabbed a couple sleeping pills from his cabinet and slugged them back with some vodka he had in his freezer. His heart pounded in his ears as they started to take effect. He couldn’t wait to sleep, for his mind to finally turn off. Sleep wasn’t possible when Travis transformed him; for the past two weeks he had been perpetually conscious, unable to move, and incredible sensitive as a jockstrap Travis refused to remove. He grabbed the vodka bottle by the neck and upended it again. He couldn’t wait for his overstimulated brain to finally shut off.

Just as he felt himself starting to doze off, Nick heard his phone beep. He knew it was from Travis (who else could it have been?) but he was shocked when he saw that it was Travis connecting for a video chat.

“Just bought this milking machine,” Travis said when Nick connected. He was strapping Nick’s cock into it; he slid the shaft into a squishy ring attached to a piston that would effectively jerk him until he blew (and beyond) while he attached electrodes to the balls. “I’m going to turn it on high and go to bed. Have a fun night!”

Nick’s hands shook as he felt Travis’ administrations of his dick. He could feel the cold metal of the device below his balls. The ring around his shaft was coated in warm, slippery lube. He knew what was coming as Travis’ fingers flirted with the on switch for far too many seconds.

“Just turn the damned thing on!” Nick begged silently. The suspense was too much--but when Travis’ finger flipped the switch, Nick realized he wouldn’t be sleeping at all. The machine was merciless, mechanically jerking his cock with no concern for its effect on Nick. His orgasm came on like a freight train; when he finally got the release he’d been desperate for, he pounded his fists into his bed while his hips bucked, his toes curled. He screamed his voice hoarse.

But the machine kept milking. He moaned and whimpered as his hypersensitive shaft was still stroked with the same intensity, his balls buzzing even though they had just been emptied. He could feel the sedatives working but he knew there would be no sleep for him tonight.

*

When Nick woke, his bed was soaked. He hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. The milking machine had him in such a frenzy, he wasn’t even thinking words by the end, just rolling around and thrashing as he would cum, then shudder as the stroking continued. He came again and again. At some point, Travis had turned the machine off.

Nick was just grateful that his torture was over for the moment. He felt exhausted like he’d had a 12-hour practice. He was more sore than he’d been in a while, just from his body clenching over and over. He stumbled from his bed and stood in the shower.

It was almost worse when Travis wasn’t around. At least with his captor staring down at him, he could anticipate the intensity (and general level of depravity) of whatever Travis had in mind. He almost took solace in that. Being here by himself, he never knew what was coming.

All this started because of a bet between coaches. Nick didn’t know the specifics of the deal, just that there was some sort of dark magic in play with an arcane contract, consecrated by demons and sealed with blood.

Whichever team won the Super Bowl would take ownership over the losing team. The 49ers hadn’t even heard of the pact before the game. It was only afterward, as the players of the Kansas City Chiefs stormed their locker room. He watched as one of his teammates shrank to six inches tall. Another got a pig snout, hooves and a curly tail. Another inflated with fat until he was an 800 pound whimpering pile of flesh.

Jimmy Garoppolo’s shocked expression froze as he turned stiff and shiny, falling over as a painted mannequin that one of the Chiefs grabbed by the wooden leg and dragged out of there. Mike McGlinchey’s body suddenly got incredibly shiny as his limbs seemed to retract. Seconds later he was just a shiny purple balloon, squeaking and twitching as one of the Chiefs grabbed him by the string and took him out of there.

Then Travis had looked at him with a fiery glare. Nick remembered that stare, how he’d never felt so small in his life. Travis had a bucket with him. He grabbed Nick by the back of the head--he’d wondered, at the time, why he hadn’t fought back, but now understood it was because Travis hadn’t allowed it--and forced him into the bucket.

Nick’s mind was blown as he started to melt. He lost track of what parts of his body were what as every big of him drooled off his body, collecting as thick sludge in the bucket. When it was over, Nick stared up from the bucket--”How can I still see?” he wondered, knowing he had no eyes, but now he knew it was because Travis wanted it.

Then Travis took him to his truck, grabbed a big sponge, and washed his truck with Nick’s liquid body.

And after every change, Travis seemed to get even more creative. At first, Nick had worried about his fellow teammates and what they must have been going through. According to his coach, just before the horrifying transformation occurred, it was just until preseason. Then they would all be back to themselves, in shape and ready for the season.

That seemed so far away now.

Nick managed to get through the entire shower without looking at his Ken-doll crotch. He dried himself off, grateful that Travis was giving him a break. In the time since this had all started, it was the longest reprieve he had been given.

But when he wiped the steam from his mirror, he was shocked at the body he had seen. His tall, muscular body seemed like it had blown up somewhat. He looked down at his muscles. They were well-developed mounds like a bodybuilder, not the athletic defensive lineman frame he’d had before the shower. His whole body looked thicker, and wider.

And shorter. He was sure he wasn’t coming up to his usual 6’4” height. His arms and legs seemed shorter as well.

When he returned to his bedroom, he heard his phone vibrating. Travis had called, it seemed, and Nick hadn’t been there to take the call.

Big mistake.

“You’re going to lose one inch in height every fifteen minutes, big man,” Travis said in his voicemail. “Except you’re not going to lose any mass. You’re getting squashed down, buddy! So basically, an hour after this started you’re going to be 6’, but still 267 pounds, just redistributed over your smaller frame. By this afternoon you’re going to be a stocky little fireplug. By tomorrow you won’t be able to even move! But I’ll go easy on you. You get yourself fucked, real good, and I’ll make it stop. Take one big load in that ass and I’ll reconnect you with your cock again, too. The other guys say I’m going to easy on you, playing these games like this. You know Garoppolo has been a spider for the past week? Just gnawing on flies and spinning webs in the corner of Mahomes’ house. I guess the poor little guy freaked out after laying his first eggs. I can’t wait until those fuckers hatch!”

Nick slapped the phone and turned away. He’d been in the shower a long time! He’d already compressed down a little already. He examined his thicker muscles, his more dense build, and glanced around his apartment for a cursory comparison of his size to other object. He felt himself shiver, and watched as his body squeezed down just a bit more. Fifteen minutes must have passed again.

Travis wasn’t unclear. There was only one way out of this. What was going to happen once he got down to, say, two feet tall? One foot? Where would all that mass go? Nick wasn’t willing to find out.

*

The clothes he’d bought to fit his new body were already an ill-fit. The shirt hung too low, the pant legs hanging over his shoes. Meanwhile his shirt sleeves were starting to tear and he was afraid he’d burst through the seat of his jeans if he bent over.

Had Travis offered him these rules on day one, Nick would have said, “Fuck no!” and just let the transformation go on until Travis changed his mind. But all he had been through had convinced him that Travis no longer thought of him as a person; he wasn’t afraid to do anything to Nick. He had no concern for how it would affect Nick--save that he seemed to want it to be excruciating! Nick couldn’t believe he’d already been bent so much that a, “Go fuck a guy,” ultimatum wouldn’t immediately cause him to wretch.

The idea of Garoppolo living his days as a little house spider was pretty shocking too. Travis could always be more sadistic, Nick reassured himself as he bought a new wardrobe and looked up gay bars on his phone. By the time he got to the first one, he’d already compressed down so much that his first outfit looked ridiculous on him. He had to take an Uber to a different clothing store for another one, trying to plan ahead for his body’s new dimensions while choosing something he could wear out of the store.

At first he thought it would be easy; maybe he could just flash his face around the bar and let his celebrity status do the rest for him. The idea of getting a rep as a closet case didn’t even bother him, he was so afraid of what Travis might do to him otherwise.

But by the time he showed up at the bar (“The Hammerhead,” a dimly lit room with a kitschy decor and a half-dozen men sipping colorful martinis) he caught a glimpse of himself in the window outside and realized he was entirely unrecognizable. He had to be only about 5’6” tall, but he was still 265 pounds. He looked like a pro-bodybuilder now, nearly as wide as he was tall, and he walked with a waddle. He could barely make out his own face on the thick simian head sunken into huge bulging traps he now had.

All eyes turned to Nick as he approached the bar, inadvertently knocking over two chairs with his too-wide body. He clumsily tried to right them before a broad man with a hefty, solid gut and a beard stepped in to help out.

“You need some assistance over here little guy?”

Nick looked up at the man as he stroked his thick beard. If Nick had been his full height, he would have towered over this guy who looked down at him so condescendingly now. Maybe he was the one?

“Actually, I do,” Nick said. He felt the shiver down his spine as he lost another inch. The husky guy had leaned over the bar to order two beers, luckily; he didn’t notice as Nick sank down another inch, but he did look down with a smirk when Nick’s arms burst through his sleeves, his massive ass sticking out behind him doing the same to his doomed jeans.

“Whoa there,” the bearish man said. “Looks like you need new clothes.”

Nick glanced around. It’s not like he could hold out for a better option; he wasn’t even sure he knew what that meant. “Actually I need to fuck,” he said. His voice was higher-pitched at this size. He sounded like a chipmunk with a behemoth body. “Like right now. Bathroom stall?”

The bear’s eyes lit up. “Damn, man. I’m not gonna turn an option like that down!”

Nick dragged the guy into the (luckily empty) bathroom. He kicked open a stall and wedged his body inside. His shoulders had gotten so wide that it was a tight squeeze. “Okay, bud, go to town,” Nick chirped.

The bear chuckled. “Let me suck you off first,” he said, his hands fishing down Nick’s tattered jeans. “Least I can do--”

“NO!” Nick said forcefully, although with his lilting voice it sounded far more like a plea than a command. “Just fuck me. Now. Cum inside me. Do it.” He pulled the back of his boxers down to produce his massive, bulging glutes, wiggling them side to side. The bear wasted no time in hopping to it.

Nick couldn’t believe he was getting fucked in a gay bar’s restroom--but more shocking than that realization was the fact that he REALLY LIKED IT. Every time the bear thrust in him, Nick felt his whole body light up, like every nerve in his body lit up with sensual energy.

He looked down at himself as he heard the bear’s balls slapping against his rock-solid ass. He had thought that just the act of getting fucked would start returning size to him, but that wasn’t the case. In fact, after about fifteen minutes of getting plowed, Nick felt himself shrink down another inch--just making his huge butt even thicker and juicier for the bear to enjoy.

When the bear finally came, Nick felt his whole body light up. He couldn’t believe it; he didn’t have a dick to cum, but his whole body throbbed with an orgasm of a magnitude he’d never felt before. Without the release of a load spurting out of him, all that erotic energy just richocheted around his thick little body.

The feeling of the bear behind him started to fade, as did his vision. For a few moments Nick felt himself floating through the darkness, weightless; then, he felt himself crash back to earth.

He couldn’t see. He could definitely hear; someone was breathing heavily above him. It sounded like someone huge! He could feel, too. His tried to move his arms or legs, but they didn’t seem to respond. He tried to take stock of his body; he was worried less about where he was and more about what he was.

He felt giant fingers suddenly tickle down his back. His whole body shivered. He tried to say something, but no sound came out--he had a mouth, he was sure of it, but all he could do with it was drool a sort of slime.

“Just as promised, I reunited you with your cock!” It was Travis voice. Nick tried to get away from his captor; Travis sounded enormous, and he was right above him. Why couldn’t Nick speak or see? He could inch along though, and he tried to build up momentum to get away from the giant man who had all the power.

“Don’t worry, little buddy. I just made it so the cock WAS you. That’s all there is of your body for the moment. Look at you, inching along like a little worm! Let me tickle those balls. You’re not going anywhere.”

Nick felt Travis’ huge hand start to curl around him, roughly stroking him. Nick’s body suddenly went rigid and got longer. “No!” he screamed silently. “Don’t make me hard! I don’t want to be a boner…” But as Travis jerked, Nick felt a warm substance burping from his mouth. The buildup of pressure in his legs (they were balls, he realized) was reaching a crescendo. Nick was going to cum.

“No! Don’t jerk me off! I’m not a dick, I’m a man…” he tried to say, but no sound came out. All of a sudden he felt his balls tighten up and hot load shot from his mouth.

And to his own horror, he realized he absolutely loved it.