series: Juiced

Juiced 2: EKT boogaloo

By Ziel  Patreon Website Twitter
3 parts
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Part 1

The transition from high school to college had been jarring for Connor to say the least. Back at home he had been a big fish in a small pond, but at college... at college he lived up to the joking moniker bestowed upon all entering freshmen. Here he was just a fish. Back home he was a star player on the football team. He had trophies on his walls and championships under his belt, but here he didn’t even make the first string. He wasn’t even second stream. He was a third string player at best and didn’t have much hope of moving up until the current lineup graduated off the team. Back home he had been the school heartthrob, but here at college his brown-haired, brown-eyed, boy-next-door looks and stocky build did him no favors.

The one small glimmer of hope he had to not spend his college career middling about in obscurity came in the form of his new home—the Epsilon Kappa Tau frat house. Connor knew that anyone who was anyone on campus was tied to some Greek organization or another, and EKT happened to be the best there was. With them at his side, he was sure to move up the social rankings in no time.

Things seemed to be looking up for him. He had made some new friends around campus, and a few of his frat brothers seemed genuinely interested in helping him get set up in his new home. Even so, it looked like it would be a long slog through the social standings before he managed to be anything other than a small fish... that was until a surprise package changed everything.

It had all started seemingly harmless enough. A couple of the brothers came in carrying a huge pallet of what appeared to be protein shakes, but these weren’t your average store bought variety protein shake. For starters, the label on the bottles didn’t match any of the brands that Connor had ever seen before. The label seemed like something someone had thrown together on their bedroom computer and printed at Kinko’s. The side of the bottle was completely black and the only thing that the bottle had as far as a product name or even a product label was a single word—”Juice”.

“What’s this?” Connor asked.

“This is the new hotness.” Said Marcel, one of the third year students. He was one of the two guys carrying the pallet into the main room of the frat house. Marcel was one of the nicer dudes in the frat... once you got past his extremely loud and boisterous personality.

Marcel was a much smaller guy than Connor all around. Not only was he a few inches shorter, but he was a lot slimmer as well. That didn’t mean he was skinny though. Marcel had a bod built for track and field which is exactly what he used it for. He had set records around the track, and as such he had a bit of a fan club around campus. It wasn’t just his skills that got him so many admirers though. The way his sweat made his dark skin glisten in the sun after an intense sprint made his dense, sinewy muscles even more amazing, and his propensity for forgoing underwear while dashing around the track showcased the one place where he was far bigger than Connor could ever hope to be. The way his thick cock bobbed and swayed in his skimpy running shorts had captured the hearts and minds of much of the student body as well as quite a large chunk of the faculty.

David, the other guy hoisting the pallet, merely rolled his eyes in reply. “Don’t say it like that...” He grumbled.

Like Connor, David was also on the football team, but unlike Connor, David was actually on the first string. He had done his time as a bench warmer and had practiced hard to work his way up the ranks and secure his spot as the first string running back, and he had the body to match. He had it all; thick muscles, thick curly hair, and an incredibly thick dick. Connor had seen the beast in the locker room a few times before, and David lived up to his nickname as The Italian Stallion on and off the field. The fat cock was easily eight inches soft—a solid two inches longer than Connor’s stiffy!

“Why not? It’s true though.” Marcel countered.

“It’s not true. As far as we know it’s just a stupid gimmick to sell this stuff.” David replied. He sounded annoyed, but even so he had a slight, bemused smirk on his face.

“A gimmick? So they were passing this stuff out around campus?” Connor asked.

“Ha! Hell no. It was delivered right to our doorstep.” Marcel replied.

“For free? Doesn’t that seem a little suspicious?” Connor asked. He had to admit he was a little curious about this sudden arrival, but he didn’t want to come off as sounding that way. He already got enough flack from the frat bros about being an impressionable bumpkin. The last thing he wanted to do was give them more ammo to use against him so he continued to play the skeptic card and let thing unfold around him.

“Spoken like a true fish.” Marcel replied.

“Not suspicious at all. We’re frat bros. Free shit is part of the gig.” David explained.

“And besides, it’s not like it’s completely free.” Everett chimed in.

The other three looked up to see the chapter president and head frat bro, Everett, casually strolling into the room while reading a small black pamphlet. The pamphlet had the same shoddy clipart looking ‘Juice’ label that the bottles had on them.

Everett was everything one would expect from a frat bro and then some. He wasn’t just hot. He was insufferably smug about it to boot, and he had a lot to be smug about. Everything from his perfectly wavy blond hair, to his chiseled jaw, to his toned bod which was decked out in the most stylish duds money could buy screamed that he was a dude with a pedigree. Everett was the quintessential country club kid. It was no secret that he had bought his way into the frat, but that was to be expected. It’s what his father had done, and his father’s father before that. Everett was a legacy pledge, and his legacy reeked of money and power. That wasn’t to say that all of his poise and pride were store-bought though. Money couldn’t buy the thick salami he had between his legs. That fat cock—much like his piercing blue eyes—came from centuries of selective breeding.

“So what’s the catch?” Connor asked, once again playing the skeptical card to hide his curiosity.

“The ‘catch’“ Everett said with noted emphasis on the word catch to showcase his intellectually superiority, “is that these are testers.”

“So we’re guinea pigs?” Connor asked.

Everett let out a haughty laugh that made Connor’s gut churn. This guy was douche given human form. His every word dripped smug superiority. Connor felt like he was going to go crazy if he had to listen to one more condescending syllable, but fortunately he didn’t have to. David stepped in to clear things up.

“You know like the lotion pumps at the store? The ones they let you use?” David asked.

“Uh, yeah. The free sample things.” Connor replied.

“Yeah. Those are testers. They let people try it out before they buy it.” David explained.

“Oh. So they think we’ll buy more after we try it.” Connor replied and nodded along as if he understood everything perfectly even though he still had some doubts.

“More than that.” Everett added in his custom, patented, better-than-you way. “We’re the popular guys, in case you forgot. If we like it, everyone else will like it by extension. It’s the perfect way for a start-up like this to get their product out there.”

“Sounds great. I was thinking about adding some protein shakes to my work out anyway.” Connor replied as politely as he could muster. After all, the last thing he wanted was for the head honcho to realize just how annoyed he really was. He was still the new guy. The last thing he wanted was to start shit with the upper echelon.

Much to Connor’s chagrin, his comment was once again greeted by a haughty chuckle from the man in charge. “A protein shake, he says.” Everett scoffed.

“That’s what they are, right?” Connor asked.

“According to the manual, these are the greatest muscle building substance ever created.” Everett explained in his typical condescending manner.

“Like... steroids? Doesn’t that shit shrink your junk?” Connor asked.

“Hah. I wouldn’t worry. You don’t have that much to lose anyway.” Marcel quipped.

Connor shot him a nasty glance but said nothing in reply. He wasn’t given the chance anyway. David was quick to interject.

“We can’t be taking steroids. If our piss is so much as half a shade off color when they do drug testing we’re off the team.” He said.

“Relax. According to the manual there’s no steroids in it. It’s all just a supplement. Perfectly legal.” Everett explained.

The frat bros looked back and forth among one another as they all digested what they had heard. There was a strange tension that fell over the room as they all waited to see who would make the first move. In the end it was Connor who stepped forward first. He was partly motivated by a desire to seem braver and therefor cooler than he really was especially in the eyes of his senior brothers, but there was more at work than that.

Connor dug his fingers into the plastic wrapping and pulled back a clump of it large enough to pluck a bottle out from and then took a bottle in his hand. He turned it over in his hand for a moment as if inspecting it. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something strange. It was all too good to be true, but if what the older guys were saying was true, then free shit like this was all part of what made being a frat bro so great. There was another factor spurring Connor on as well. The coach had said that Connor had the skill and the raw talent to be great on the team, but his size was holding him back. He had been a big fish in a small pond back when he played football for a rural school, but this was the big leagues. He just simply did not have the muscle mass to trade blows with the big boys. He needed to bulk up if he ever wanted to be on the first string, and if this stuff was even half as good as the booklet claimed then it might be just what he needed to move up on the team.

“Well... let’s at least see how it tastes.” Connor said and then pulled off the cap and knocked back a solid swig of the milky white swill.

Part 2

The other guys around the frat were slow to try the new protein shake, but after Connor started seeing results the rest of the guys were quick to start hoarding bottles for themselves. The changes were amazing. Connor had noticed the pudge he had packed on—the so called “freshman fifteen”—melting away within the first couple of days. By Tuesday he had a flat belly, and by Friday he could actually see clearly defined abs forming on his midsection. He had gone from slightly chubby to fit as fuck in under a week! And as the days went on the changes became even more pronounced. By the time Sunday rolled around, the rest of the guys in the frat were starting to see some changes as well. Even the dudes who were already jacked before starting Juice were steadily bulking up every day.

Connor trudged back to the frat house late in the afternoon. He had spent a large part of the day just hanging around campus. He had finished his classes hours before, but he just hadn’t felt like going back home yet. He was enjoying himself far too much for that. It seemed like no matter where he went or what he did people could not help but stop and stare at him, and it was no surprise why. Connor filled out his T-shirt and jeans perfectly. It was hard to believe that just a week ago the only place that his shirt had been tight had been around his belly, but nowadays his shirt strained and stretched across his thick, well-defined pecs. His shirt was still a little tight around the midriff, but that was only because of his eight pack abs which now showed clearly against the front of his shirt.

Connor filled out his jeans just as well as he filled out his shirt. His growing quads strained against the sides of his pant legs, and his beefy butt pressed hard against the seat of his pants. His jeans look like they had been painted onto his swole legs. Even his calves looked a little cramped inside his pants. In fact there was only one part of his lower body that didn’t strain against the fabric of his jeans, but Connor was not at all surprised to find that he hadn’t seen any gains down there.

Connor had been getting plenty of gazes from guys and girls alike for the past few days, and he loved every second of it. He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to take his time and soak up the silent adulation for as long as possible, but he knew he needed to get back to the frat house. Still, that didn’t mean he had to run. He could afford to take a slow, casual stroll all the way back to his new home, and that is exactly what he did.

By the time Connor made his way into the front room of the large frat house, the weekly Monday evening meeting was already in full swing. Everett had been rattling on about one topic or another, but it was clear that no one was really paying much attention. They had all just been lazing about on the various couches and chairs as they waited for their fearless leader to get through his speeches and get over himself.

Everett turned and glared at Connor when he heard the door shut behind him. “Oh. I was wondering if you were going to show up.” Everett said. His casual tone wasn’t fooling anyone. There was plenty of derision aimed at the latecomer.

“Study session ran long.” Connor replied nonchalantly. Connor could feel Everett’s ire aimed right at him, but fortunately it didn’t look like Everett was in the mood to start any shit which in and of itself was pretty rare actually. Everett merely sneered at him as he waited for Connor to take his seat.

Everett cleared his throat and moved onto his next order of business. “As you all know...” Everett began. He waited a moment for the chatter to die down and then he continued his sentence. “... this Friday is our first official frat bash of the school year.” He added.

This time all eyes were on Everett, and all conversations had slammed to a halt. This was a topic that everyone had a vested interest in. Even Connor, who was not legally old enough to drink, was looking forward to getting absolutely shit-faced this coming Friday, and even if he didn’t plan on getting completely blootered in the first five minutes, he was excited for the chance to show off his new bod for all the smoking hot co-eds that were sure to be cramming into their halls this coming Friday.

Conner looked around the room and took stock of his frat brothers. He was going to have a lot of competition this coming Friday. Plenty of the guys were just as buff as he was, and there were a few who were even more jacked than he. Even Everett who had never been the beefiest guy on the block filled out his clothes remarkably well. His pecs had grown so huge in the past week that he had to keep the top four buttons of his formerly perfectly tailored shirts left unclasped because there was simply no way to close the front of his shirt overtop of his enormously enlarged pectoral muscles, and his pants were every bit as packed as his shirt... or almost every bit as packed.

Everett’s big dick strained against the inside of his pant leg. It was certainly huge, but something seemed off about it. Connor didn’t have time to really study it in too great a detail though. The last thing he wanted was to be caught checking out another guy’s package so he was quick to direct his attention elsewhere.

Everywhere Connor looked he saw huge, beefy guys just hanging out. Even Marcel had gone from lean and lithe to thick and swole in the span of a week. He was looking less like a runner and more like a power lifter with each passing day, and he was one of the slimmest guys in the frat nowadays!

“... so be sparing with your invites. We want this to look like we’re only inviting the best of the best. Of course the riff-raff will weasel their way in anyway, but we want to at least have the appearance of being selective with who we allow to attend.” Everett concluded.

Connor quickly snapped out of his lurid ogling of the rest of his frat bros. He had been so fixated on how hot and huge the other guys in the frat had gotten that he had completely missed most of what Everett had been saying. Connor wasn’t about to ask Everett to repeat some of it though. There was no way he’d admit to not listening, and he didn’t particularly care enough to hear it again anyway.

“Before we wrap up, did anyone else have something they wished to discuss?” Everett asked the rest of the frat. Most guys stayed silent. A few murmured a quick, “naw” or something like it, but there was one guy who actually stood up to speak.

All eyes were on the guy but not because he held any real power or prestige in the frat house—quite the opposite in fact. Theo was as meek and timid as they come. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the halls of dripping machismo that was the EKT frat house. The only reason he was even there was because his parents had money and power. He was a legacy pledge, much like Everett, but that was where their similarities ended.

“Hey so... I know everyone here has been trying that new protein drink...” Theo said awkwardly. Theo had always been a short, scrawny, gangly little thing, but even he was starting to show some serious definition from his days on the juice. He had been one of the last guys to come around, but even in the three days he had been drinking he had gone from being a scrawny nerd to having the body of a professional swimmer. He had only just begun to pack on muscle, but it was clear he would be bulking up in no time. Yet somehow he didn’t seem too excited about the prospects.

Everyone waited intently for him to continue. There were none of the normal jeers and whoops one would expect when someone starts talking about the substance that had become an overnight favorite in the halls of the frat house. It was rare for Theo to stand up and say anything so everyone was genuinely curious about where this was going and what it had to do with their favorite drink.

“I just... well... if it’s just me then... I’ve noticed... well I think I’ve noticed...” Theo stammered awkwardly. Groans and murmurs of annoyance rippled through the room. Everyone was quickly losing interest in Theo and what he had to say, and no one knew this more than Theo himself. He tried his best to choke back his anxiety and say his piece.

“It’s just... I feel like... It seems like... my dick... seems smaller... I don’t know... It could just be me...” Theo muttered nervously.

The attitude in the room immediately changed. There was an awkward silence that fell over the frat. All the guys stopped to look at one another as if trying decide what they should do with this new information. There’s no telling where things would have gone from there had Everett not been so quick to diffuse the situation.

“Now, Theo... You’ve always had a kid dick. You’re not fooling anyone by blaming it on Juice.” Everett chided in the most smug, self-assured tone he could muster. He was so haughty and snide that it was almost uncharacteristically assholeish even for him... almost.

“Hah! Yeah! Just because the rest of your body is finally looking like it graduated middle school that doesn’t mean your dick is gonna finally hit puberty too.” Marcel chimed in.

The barb was so sudden that Theo actually recoiled in shock. He had expected something like that from Everett but not from Marcel. Marcel was always quick with a joke and had a tendency to poke fun at people, but he wasn’t the type to go for such a visceral takedown like that. The few times he did actually say something unintentionally snide he would quickly apologize for taking the joke too far, but today he was actually glancing around the room with a pained smile as if looking for same validation with his gibe. A few guys awkwardly chuckled along and a few more even made a few passing comments. Theo’s already reddish cheeks turned a few shades redder as he took his seat

Everett grinned. His smug sense of self-satisfaction was clearly visible on his face. He could have called the meeting to order sooner, but he was enjoying watching Theo squirm. Eventually though, even Everett got bored of the commotion.

“If no one has any real issues to talk about, then I’ll go ahead and declare this meeting adjourned.” Everett said dismissively.

This time nobody bothered to step forward. In fact, nobody seemed interested in saying much of anything at all. An almost unnatural silence had fallen over the room and the occupants. The guys didn’t even want to talk to each other. They all got up from their seats and went their separate ways with only a few furtive glances here and there.

Connor went right back up to his room after that. He couldn’t get what Theo had said out of his mind. Could a guy’s dick really shrink? And if so was it really related to the drink they all had been using? Connor wasn’t sure what to believe or what to think. This was the first he had heard about it from anyone else, but then again, he had been using the stuff a lot longer than the rest.

Connor had noticed something odd the past few days. He wasn’t sure, but he thought his dick might be looking a little smaller than before. He had chalked it up to it just being some trick of the light or an optical illusion. After all, his thighs were looking thicker than ever before. It only made sense that his dick would look smaller by comparison, right? His cock couldn’t actually be shrinking, could it?

Connor didn’t want to even think about it. He didn’t want to even entertain the notion so he pulled out his laptop and did what he always did when he needed to clear his mind of everything else—he started stroking it to porn. Unfortunately that did little to take his mind off of his other problems. The second he pulled down his boxers and his dick flopped out his gaze drifted towards his cock. He tried to focus on what was happening on his screen and not what was happening with his peen, but the whole time he was trying to fap his mind kept drifting towards his cock. Soon his dick was rock hard, but even though it was as rigid as it had ever been, it just didn’t seem as large as it should be. Connor was never the biggest guy below the belt, but he had had enough schlong that he could wrap a hand around his dick and have some space left over, but tonight he had his hand against the base of his cock and the tip of his dick just barely poked out past his palm.

Connor was so fixated on his own dick that he couldn’t even enjoy the very loud porn that was playing on his laptop. He had completely tuned out the moans and groans and grunts and gasps as he stared at the little bit of cock that he had poking past his palm. It couldn’t just be an optical illusion. His dick had to have gotten smaller, but how? And how small had it actually gotten? Connor didn’t want to know, but at the same time he knew he needed to. Some perverse fascination had taken hold. He just couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing.

Connor hopped out of his bed and trudged across the room to his discarded gym bag. He rifled through the contents until he found what he was looking for, a small rolled spool of soft measuring tape. Connor felt a pit form in his stomach and a lump form in his throat as he stared at the numbered tic marks on the small roll of tape. He had bought the thing to measure his muscles. He had wanted to chronicle and calculate just how big his biceps were growing as the juice worked its magic. He had wanted to use it to measure his gains, but now he was going to use it to calculate his losses.

Connor stood in front of his mirror and lined the tape up with his dick. Despite the fact that his nerves were going crazy his dick was still as rock hard as ever. There was something strangely exciting about finding out just how small his dick had gotten, but he didn’t want to say that out loud. He didn’t even want to admit it to himself, but the proof was in the penis. His cock was rock hard and ready to blow as he lined the measuring tape up with the base of his cock.

Connor gasped as he looked at the final ruling. The tip of his dick fell just shy of the four inch mark. There was no doubt about it. His dick had shrunk! Connor had never been the biggest guy at the frat house, but he had always been pretty secure in his size. Whenever he was asked about it he had always claimed he had a solid, respectable six inches, but the truth of the matter was that he typically missed the mark by a few tics. He was most assuredly well over five though. Even the most humble measurements put him at five and a half, but now he didn’t even hit four! He was even pressing the little metallic bit at the end of the tape as hard as he could against his crotch to eek out a few more millimeters, and he still fell short of the mark!

Connor flopped dejectedly back onto his bed. His cock was officially small. He just had to accept that, but what did that mean going forward? Part of him knew he should quit Juice, but what would happen if he did? What would happen to his muscle? Would they melt away as quickly as they had sprung up? What would he have then? No muscles and a small cock? He’d be a joke, and he could kiss his spot on the football team goodbye. The coach was so close to making him a starter. If he reverted back to his old, slightly chunky physique there was no doubt that that position would be given to someone else. Connor knew he had a lot to think about, but for the time being all he really wanted to do was deal with his raging hard-on. Connor pulled his headphones back on over his ears, tapped the keyboard a few times to snap his laptop out of hibernation, and wrapped his hand around his cock—his cock which now only barely poked past his palm—and set to work relieving at least some of the tension.

Part 3

Connor woke up the next morning and once again checked himself in front of the mirror. He was looking fit as fuck, there was no doubt about that. His thick, muscular pecs puffed up like pillows in front of him as he flexed for his reflection. His biceps bulged out bigger than softballs. His abs were so defined that his belly looked like it had been photoshopped. Even the mound of his traps was looking plenty thick. About the only place he didn’t look all that thick was in his shorts. His briefs were stretched to their max as they struggled against his huge, muscular ass, but even then he hardly had anything resembling a bulge up front.

Connor cringed at the sight of his lackluster package. He knew he had to learn to accept it. He had a small cock. He was below four inches when fully boned. He had the kind of cock he had teased people about in high school. His cock size was the subject of scorn and ridicule the world over. Even with his amazingly muscular bod, how could he claim to be a real man when he was looking like a kid downstairs?

Connor shook the notion from his mind. Moping about wasn’t going to fix anything. The best he could do now was focus on moving forward. So what if his dick was a little small? It wasn’t the end of the world. He was still built like an Olympian... right down to the comically small cock Greek sculptors liked to adorn their statues with.

Connor tried his best to tune out his own mind. He tried to ignore the pervasive thoughts that kept nagging at the back of his mind. He went about getting ready for his day as best he could, but he didn’t have any real reason to be getting dressed yet. He didn’t have any classes today, and football practice wasn’t until the afternoon, but the act of dressing helped get him out of his head and helped him focus on the coming day.

There were a few other guys in the common area when Connor made his way downstairs, but he really wasn’t in the mood to talk to any of them, and they in turn did not seem too keen on talking to him. There was a strangely tense air hanging over the frat house, and Connor had a sneaking suspicion he knew what was causing it. No doubt Theo’s outburst at the communal chat had a little to do with it. Everyone had shushed him and shooed him off last night, but Connor was sure that just about everyone had taken the time to take stock of their own endowments after they had retired to their own room.

The atmosphere in the dining area wasn’t much better, but that was solely Connor’s fault. No one else was in there with him to raise or lower the spirits in the room. It was just him.

Connor set about getting together a decent breakfast. He grabbed a few eggs out of the fridge, but before he could even fill the pan with water to start boiling them he changed his mind. He just wasn’t feeling it today. He needed something different—something creamier. He instead chose to get out a jug of milk and pour himself some cereal, but again he hadn’t even managed to get the cereal from the pantry before he grew tired of that idea as well. The crunchy flakes didn’t appeal to him. As he stared at the shapes of the cereal on the box he couldn’t help but think how much they looked like dandruff. How had he ever found those appetizing?

Connor was just about to shut the cabinet and call it a bust when his eyes fell upon something else stocked away in there—a small, cylindrical container. It wasn’t right to call it a bottle, but he wasn’t sure the best word for it. It was more like a milk carton only smaller and with a pour spout on the top. The official terminology didn’t matter. What mattered was what was inside. Connor didn’t even need to see the name of the stuff written on the side to know. He had drank from many such containers over the past week. This was Juice...

Connor’s hand shook as he reached out to take one. His mind was racing as he considered his options. He knew he should stop or at least cut back, but he was absolutely famished. He needed something inside his belly. His gut was practically roaring at him he was so hungry, but the mere thought of other foods made him sick to his stomach. There was only one thing that could sate his hunger, and Connor knew this.

Connor held the small container in his hand. It was little more than a juice box, and yet this was the source of his troubles. He knew he should just put it back. He knew he shouldn’t drink it, but even as he unscrewed the small cap on the drink he was already thinking over his next course of action.

“One more won’t be so bad...” Connor said to himself. He tried to psyche himself up even as he felt the stuff wash across his tongue and slide down his throat.

“It’s just one more... What can it hurt? It’s not like I lost all those inches overnight. What harm can there be in one more? So what if I lose another inch? I’m already tiny...” Connor thought silently to himself as he finished the bottle.

Connor felt invigorated and renewed almost the second the stuff hit his gut. He felt his worries wash away. Sure he still had to deal with the aftereffects, but at least now he was going into it refreshed and revitalized. It was so much easier to quit on a full stomach after all, and that is exactly what he intended to do. He was already buff as hell so there was really no need to keep on drinking the stuff... or at least that is what Connor told himself...

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