Heir - Blog Posts

My interpretation is that Witches are active and Heirs are passive Magician classes, which involves changing, manipulating, and controlling their aspects.

Likewise, Maids are active and Sylphs passive Healer classes, which involves healing, creating, and (re)generating their aspects.

As far as “giving” goes, that’s something Rogues already do. Thieves technically can give, too, as I see Thieves and Rogues as classes that involve aspect allocation and redistribution, but Thieves are mostly inclined to take, while Rogues are inclined to give or share.

For now, I’ll link some of my related posts:

John the Wizard touches upon the Witch/Heir connection with magic.

Healer Classes: Maids, Sylphs, and Revival describes the Maid/Sylph connection with healing.

Classes Chart is my take on the class meanings, pairings, etc.

Useful Classpect Tools and Resources has links to more information from others (including @dahniwitchoflight​).

It’s not much, hopefully it'll provide some insight.

Homestuck theory: Heirs are the “passive giving” class.

IE: Heirs are diametrically opposed to Thieves: they give their aspect and inspire others to do the same.

John:

All evidence that Breath/Breeze is connected to delivery comes from John, Tavros has flags, but not the mailbox kind.

John uses the Breeze and parcel pyxis to invite giving through breath (note that I’m also assuming that Equius and Mituna had and aspect driven parcel system on their planets).

Upon receiving the ultimate freedom (retcon zaps are said by many to mean breath) and being faced with drowning in oil, John instead zaps the oil away (gives his breath) in order to take on the responsibility of completing his personal quest (in which he also gives the fireflys freedom). It’s noted by Jade that he does this instead of zapping away himself, something which I think is a defining moment for his character.

John fits the messianic archetype, so it would make sense if he would give spirit and freedom in return for responsibility, friendship and warrior spirit (Blood).

Is “giving spirit” something the natural leader does? If so, Roxy and Kanaya talking about John being such a great motivational leader that he makes others better leaders at the same time counts as evidence towards John giving and inviting the giving of Breath.

John takes on warrior spirit when doing the windy thing? This is a bit of a shaky one I admit, but the thing is we often see John sort of “not taking things seriously” and making unnecessary jokes and observations, as if the graveness of his situation hasn’t really set in for him. The only time he comes down off this cloud is when he’s airbending.

When John decides to not go through the gate and is instead pulled back down to earth (in a moment which is cited to show the Breath/Blood dichotomy) thanks to alt Dave’s influence, alt Dave gets wings (as in John gave him freedom/Breath).

Equius:

In this page Calliope mentions that people with opposite classpects can have similar abilities, so Equius might possibly have Thief of Light powers (as in, if this theory is correct Equius should be able to theoretically steal light from everyone by giving them void).

So while Vriska steals the spot-light (ie: relevance, ie: Light) by creating Bec noir, Equius has become part of the most important character in homestuck: Lil'cal, and gives the alpha kids a lack of showdown (bear in mind though that Equius does this to help the humans, whereas Vriska does it to stroke her ego, fitting what we know about passive classes working for the team and active classes working for themselves). 

Vriska is also accused of stealing light in the form of agency when she controls trolls, and Equius controls Nepeta’s actions in some respect at the start of Hivebent and also stops her from joining the red team (again because he believes it’s in her best interests). Deceiving his team-mates and becoming the blue team leader counts as giving lies and also another count of stealing relevance.

Equius also gives fakeness in the form of Vriskas arm, Aradia’s body, and Tavros’s legs. Also as Lil'cal he arguably teaches Dirk how to build robots and therefore invites the giving of fakeness?

Equius is probably also the reason the ring of void moved from the human’s alpha session to caliborn’s, ie: he delivered void. 

Mituna: 

I don’t actually have much to say about Mituna, as we don’t know much about him or his arc. Although…don’t you think it’s funny that the Thief and Heir of both troll sessions had aspect pairs that we pretty much know where opposites? 

The Ψiioniic though, fits this theory pretty well. He gives/delivers the ship using his death, and often very gave death to aliens in the form of the Condesce (and invites her to give death).

Medieval connection:

The Heir class represents a medieval aristocrat passively giving away all their inherited fortune. Inheritace itself is them inviting giving.

John the Wizard

Remember after the Trickster arc (A6A5A2), how the story returns to A6A5A1? Caliborn yells at Hussie for going "BACKWARDS BY AN 'ACT'." He thinks the Trickster shenanigans were "erased," to which Hussie responds:

What are you talking about? I didn't erase it. It was still a thing that happened. Do you really think I have the power to make something unhappen?? I would have to be a wizard to do that.

Well, it turns out someone does have that power:

Which means John Egbert is a wizard.

John already has plenty of wizard allusions:

DISREGARD THE UNIMPORTANT MALE GHOST BEHIND THE CURTAIN.

An obvious reference to the Wizard of Oz saying, "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain."  

JOHN: let's all go see a big pompous wizard to solve all of our problems.

JOHN: we didn't realize it at the time, but there were still a bunch of problems waiting to happen. [...] JOHN: but don't worry, i'm working to overcome all those problems right now. JOHN: that's why i'm here!

  Frigglish bothered his beard, as if unkinking a hitch in a long silk windsock. [...] As a matter of fact, his cadre of fellow wizards were all putting similar moves on their beards as well.

Thanks to John's god tier hood (wind powers help, too), others (mostly Roxy) continually mention windsocks with reference to John.

ROXY: im all ears johnny windsock

Even the Magician's Hat John wears as part of his "Clever Disguise" and the Bunny Sassacre Fedora---one of the first items he alchemizes---are wizardly.

  One of the very first snippets of information we learn about John is that he's "an aspiring AMATEUR MAGICIAN." While it appears to mean a magician in the sense of an "entertainer who is skilled in producing illusion by sleight of hand, deceptive devices, etc.," a magician is also a "person who is skilled in magic" or a "sorcerer"---in other words, a wizard. Couldn't it mean both?

If Heir is indeed the passive counterpart to Witch, both classes who "change, manipulate, and control (with/through) their aspect"---which I like to call the Magician Classes---wouldn't that make the Heir of Breath a magician or wizard, anyway?

John and others continually refer to John and his abilities as "magic":

EB: everyone i know is turning magic, it's ridiculous. EB: including me! i'm magic now.

("Everyone" specifically alluding to Jade and Rose, an actual Witch and a Seer with the inclination toward Witch inversion.)

John calls his retcon abilities "weird retcon magic," and describes it as "some kind of surreal, history altering... reality hopping... magic power.” Roxy calls it “magic ‘fix literally everything' powers.”

Although John aspires to become a SKILLED MAGICIAN and a CUNNING PRANKSTER, he is “neither of these things” for most of the story.

At first, John has no control over his magic powers (first wind, then space-time jumping retcon abilities). However, eventually he learns and masters his powers, becoming a SKILLED MAGICIAN.

JOHN: i've noticed whenever i learn to do new things with my powers, it's usually in response to something. like something important that has to be done.

JOHN: i learned how to turn into wind and swoosh around about a year ago. [...] JOHN: i thought for sure i was a goner, when suddenly i poofed away from his tentacly grasp like houdini's slippery ghost. later i rematerialized to seize the tactical advantage!

JADE: he dispersed every drop throughout existence

JADE: leaving a little mark for anyone who might notice, signifying his final mastery over his confining reality

Thanks to his powers and Terezi's scarf instructions, John becomes a CUNNING PRANKSTER, as well.

JOHN: i am like the ultimate prankster now... nanna would be so proud!

Previously, John was neither a skilled magician nor a cunning prankster. Now he is both.

John, a magician, the wizard with the “power to make something unhappen."

Bonus points for shipping fodder: Roxy LOVES wizards.

John = Wizard. CONFIRMED.

Hi! I was wondering if a Knight of Mind, Heir of Blood, or Seer of Heart would be a better leader?

Well, it would depend.

A Knight of Mind would be good at using façades and choices, exploiting and maximizing the usefulness of thoughts, rationale, and the outer self in order to get things done. If balanced, they could also use their Rogue of Heart inverse to obtain, redistribute, and share souls and inner desires.

An Heir of Blood would be good at influencing and inviting change relating to bonds, pacts, and connections of a group. If balanced, they could also use their Mage of Breath inverse to understand what direction the team should take—their goals and quests—and use that knowledge to act or lead.

A Seer of Heart would be good at understanding the core of each person in the group, such as their strengths, weaknesses, fears, and inner desires. They would then guide the team using that knowledge. If balanced, they could also use their Witch of Mind inverse to change others’ minds—their rationales and decisions—and their outer selves.

I’m inclined to think an Heir of Blood would make one of the best leaders in general, but there are a lot of factors to consider. It’d depend on the individual leading, the group dynamic, the purpose and goal, and what the team actually needed. It’d also depend on how “realized” (and competent) the person is.

Certain classpects are probably naturally better skilled and equipped to lead than others, but each classpect has the potential to be a good leader (or a poor leader), depending on the circumstances.

Classes Chart

Here's a chart of all the classes, both Standard and Master.

My goal was to define, describe, and categorize them as efficiently and accurately as possible, based on my understanding of the classes. I based as much as I could on canon information, while inferring the rest.

(For clarity, "–" denotes Active, and "+" denotes Passive.)

(Note: If chart looks distorted/shrunken, right-click and View Image.)

Special thanks to bladekindeyewear, dahniwitchoflight, infinitywhale and probably others for their insight and information, helping me understand the classes and aspects. I couldn't have made this chart without them.

Some clarification: I am aware Hussie essentially said any gender can have any class (i.e. female Princes). I don’t like the idea of gendered classes, anyway, and I think it’s needlessly restrictive, not to mention sexist and stereotyping.

However, my chart reflects what’s been depicted in comic, based on what Calliope states, looking at the characters’ classes and gender distribution, and then making some inferences based on Hussie’s penchant for balance and based on class names and god tier outfit designs.

My classpects (all aspects)

I was tired of redoing the search everytime my Extended Zodiac results or just my own conclusion changed. So I did it for all the aspects to get that part out of the way.

Witch of Doom Mage of Void Seer of Light (Same as Rose) Prince of Time Seer of Breath Knight of Rage Heir of Mind Thief of Hope Seer of Blood (Same as Kankri) Page of Life Thief of Space Sylph of Heart

Can you pls elaborate on those tags about the Derse kids feeling more like siblings than the Prospit kids?

I mean

hang on. /flips down mic. TED Talk Time.

Booty Text

--- Originally posted on 2019-03-11 by dumb-and-jocked ---

Text Message Sent 10:36 PM

David: Hey! Sorry to text you so late, but thanks for the present!

Matt: No probs bro. It’s for helping me study math

David: Well, if you ever need help in the future I’ll be there

Matt: ya can help me rite now by trying it on and send pics

David: ?

Matt: trust me bro, I got you the best cologne out there, and the socks have scented soles

David: uh ok?

Text Message Sent 10:39 PM

David: the socks are definitely to big, but they look nice

Matt: they’re the perfect size, you’ll see, how bout cologne?

David: dude, you didn’t tell me how powerful it was

Matt: but ya love it rite bro?

David: yeah but it’s a little hard to concentrate

Matt: spray som more and smell, it helps

David: ok, one sec

Text Message Sent 10:41 PM

David: woah dude, u were right

Matt: ikr bro, u always should listen to me

David: I think I’m seein things, my body’s looking big

Matt: it’s not lookin big bro, I bet it’s swole

David: yeah, swole, ur right

Matt: yup bro, smell the socks and txt back

Text Message Sent 10:44 PM

David: bro, I’ve been smelling the air and socks and I think I’m losing it

Matt: wdym

David: my whole bodies expanded, it looks I went through puberty again

Matt: what?

David: I took of all my clothes except my compression shorts and like my body’s all buff now and my hands look like mitts and bro my abs are poppin

Matt: what else?

David: I got these huge pecs and super defined calves, I also have hair sprouting out everywhere

Matt: is that all?

David: almost, it seems like my feet have expanded too, once I’m done smelling all out my socks back on and see

Matt: listen to me david, just like usual

David: of course

Matt: spray more cologne and keep smelling the socks, check back in bro

David: sure thing bro

Text Message Sent 10:49 PM

David: hey bro

Matt: how you feelin?

David: foggier than before, and other things have changed

Matt: like?

David: my hair and head get longer and now I got this sick beard and my Adam’s apple grew so big and now I got this deep voice

Matt: and?

David: bro, I have hair and huge musk everywhere like my abs and legs are super hairy and my pits are forests that are so RANK I can barely smell the cologne don’t me get started on the pubes

Matt: what about the pubes?

David: the more I smell my pits with the cologne, the hairier my crotch gets, and my dick and balls are both expanding

Matt: how much?

David: bro, my pouch is huge

Matt: nice

David: oh my butt just got bigger too it’s like 2 bubbles

Matt: perfect

David: you gay or something bro?

Matt: you’ll soon be

David: ?

Matt: just keep sniffing bro, especially the socks, check back in once ur redy

David: bro I think ur crazy?

Matt: everything I say is right, isn’t it David?

David: oh, uh yeah

Matt: then just sniff

David: ok bro

Text Message Sent 10:55 PM

David: bro

Matt: yeah?

David: I just remembered how hot it was

Matt: you blasted that jock cock to the thought of ur self, didn’t you?

David: yeah, cum all over the walls

Matt: well, that big dick does blast testosterone, how long is it again?

David: bro, how did you forget it’s 8 inches

Matt: I don’t know, can I ask ya something

David: always bro, and if you wanna bang it’s always yes

Matt: yeah, but different question, are you missing anything?

David: one sec bro...

David: nah, im missing nothing when im with my bro

Matt: that’s correct! babe send me a pic of ur self I wanna see what my present looks like

David: of course bro

David: now u know why I nutted

Matt: of course ya meathead

David: the cologne smells great and the socks fit perfectly, howd you know?

Matt: ive been to town on those feet, they’re my best bros, so when I found a pair of size 14 socks I knew they were a steal

David: well thx again

Matt: of course bro

David: so you coming over to beat my meathead?

Matt: yeah of course, i wanna eat those cheeks too, i like you as my booty call

David: wouldn’t this be a booty text?

Matt: wow, I thot I was the smarter one

David: yeah you are, I haven’t passed remedial math for two year now

Matt: I was just joking dummy, I gotta call mark and then I’ll be there

David: oh and after we swallow loads help me with math, I hate that crap bro

Matt: of course bro of course

What the Athletic Department Needs

Bringing back Coach Sorenson as requested

Tony Reardon anxiously paced back and forth inside of the coach’s office. It was strangely large and well-decorated, looking similar to something he expected from a therapist. One large loveseat, a coffee table, and a chair with an extra wide cushion were the only items in the room. There were also multiple pictures of championship victories, a few caps and balls hanging as mementos, an array of cabinets, and large windows overlooking the university. He wished literally anyone was here with him. His girlfriend, his advisor, even his mother! But he was completely alone, unprepared to face what he assumed was going to be the coach’s wrath.

As a lead writer for the university’s newspaper, Tony should’ve known better than to expose the article. He’d been in the business for almost four years now through high school and into college, so he could admit it was rather idiotic of him to let his segment leak. He had written an editorial about the recent declines in the university’s academic departments and its odd correlations with the climbing numbers in athletic enrollment. Somehow, while the average grades had been plummeting, the football, soccer, basketball, baseball, and hockey records had been exploding, with a new star player added to each team every week. Not only that, but the swimming team had expanded for the first time in 20 years, and there were now four golf teams instead of two. Somehow, all these events had to be connected with the academic slump, and that’s what Tony’s article was going to explore.

For the next month’s publication, he began researching the link between the fall of academia and the rise of physical activities. The chase had led him through a plethora of unexplained student disappearances, skyrocketing mid-semester registrations, and a barely-quantifiable amount of seemingly illegal activity. The most prominent example had been the creation of some cologne called “Heir,” a seemingly simple concoction invented by the new Assistant Football Coach Mark Richardson. Ever since the beginning of the rises and declines, there had been a huge amount of the chemical shipped to the university almost every day. Tony knew that this cologne had to be the answer he was looking for, but before he had a chance to investigate further, his article had been exposed to the faculty, including the head of the Athletic Department: Coach Sorenson.

And this was why Tony was cowering slightly as he waited for the coach to enter. What would he do to Tony, or with Tony? He had definitely gotten himself in way too deep, but there was no way he could escape now. Tony took a long breath and tried desperately to cool himself down. There was no way the coach would be able to harm him in any way. Tony was only a sophomore, not even 20. He was going to be fine, and he just had to keep telling himself that. He just had to get through this and then he’d be on his way.

Suddenly, the door from behind him opened. Tony quickly stood at full attention, almost as rigid as a soldier.

“Stand down,” Coach Sorenson chuckled. “Please, take a seat.”

Tony followed his instructions, nervously twitching as sat down on the white couch across from the coach’s massive chair. His eyes quivered as the giant of a man strolled past him. Tony assumed the coach had to be almost 6’5 (at least a foot taller than him) and even though he looked to be in his forties, he had to be in better shape than any other man above 25. Bulging biceps and triceps, juicy quads, and thick calves were all exposed as they strained the light blue compression shirt and tight, white mesh shorts. Not only that, but the two massive white Nike sneakers did nothing to hide the giant feet as they stomped their way around the other side of the table. Tony also unhappily noticed a massive cock swinging back and forth between the coach’s legs like a pendulum trying to break out.

As the coach sat down, Tony looked over his own body in dread. He’d dressed a little more professional for the situation as he was talking with the head of the Athletic Department. His plaid button-up was fairly flat, showcasing his lack of anything in his torso region. His khakis gave a similar performance as they loosely held onto his legs. His briefs hid any existence of his dick, which was currently sitting at about 3 inches soft. Barely tapping his small shoes quickly against the tile floor, Tony sunk a little further into the loveseat. His butt barely covered half a cushion as he brought his legs together, hoping to stop the shaking.

“To get right to business,” Coach Sorenson’s deep, melodic voice began. “We both know why you’re here in my office.”

“I’m so sorry!” Tony exclaimed, his tenor voice sounding wimpy and childish. “I had no intention of harming the Athletic Department’s reputation in any way at all. I swear, the article is just an editorial–opinions, not fact.”

“I understand.” Coach Sorenson leaned back into his chair and crossed his meaty arms. He pushed his legs out until they were far apart, the man-spreading showcasing who was in charge in the room. He seemed to be dwelling over a thought in his head.

“I promise, it will never be published if that is what you’d like.” Tony gulped at his own proposal, upset at what he was sacrificing.

“No, no,” Coach Sorenson started. “The article can still be salvaged.”

“Salvaged?” Tony questioned hesitantly.

“Well of course,” Coach Sorenson chuckled again, only this time it was a little more menacing. “But if you want to get this thing published, you’ll want both sides of the story.”

Tony pondered the idea for a moment. “What does that entail?”

“I know you’re a smart boy, Tony.” The emphasis on “boy” made it seem more like an insult. “I’ve seen your transcripts. Quite impressive really.”

“Thank you?” Tony was lost, not finding the point.

“You should know that the greatest editorials present sources from both sides. If you want to publish this article, you’re going to have someone in the Athletic Department. I would be willing to fill that responsibility.”

The two sat there in silence for a moment; Coach Sorenson waiting for Tony to take the bait.

“Alright,” Tony agreed. “Are there certain questions you’d like me to ask?”

“Well, first, I have a strange request for you.” The coach’s tone suddenly shifted from authoritative to friendly. “My son made a comment the other day about my body odor, and I’ve been quite self-conscious about it since.”

“I can’t smell anything,” Tony replied honestly, hoping to move forward quickly.

“I just want to make sure.” Coach Sorenson pushed his muscular body out of the chair, the giant frame once again showcasing its massive form as it ascended upwards. The coach then made his way over to the loveseat, taking a seat right next to the very uncomfortable Tony. Compared to the coach, the sophomore now looked even smaller than before.

“Can you smell me when I’m sitting right next to you?”

Tony, now even more intimidated then he had been the entire time, took a theatrical sniff before sputtering out a meek, “N-n-no.”

“Alright,” Coach Sorenson shifted over, getting close enough that his gigantic arms and legs were rubbing up against the beanstalks Tony called limbs. “How about now?”

“S-s-still n-nothing!” Tony squeaked. The coach smirked and casually raised his arms behind his head, stretching out his compression shirt and allowing tufts of wet armpit hair to spill out. Now Tony began to smell something pungent, repulsive, and… addicting. His eyes began to water from the stench as he gradually lost focus.

“Really?” Coach Sorenson insisted, slowly leaning one of his pits into Tony’s face. “Are you sure I don’t smell?”

With logic disappearing quickly, Tony decided this had to be a test. All he had to do was show his obedience to the coach and he would get to publish the article. Without a doubt in his idea, he confidently moved his nose right into a damp forest, the stench almost hitting him immediately. Although he now knew his answer, Tony didn’t stop sniffing. For some reason, he kept going. He had had three words to describe the flavor of the coach’s body odor before, but now the only one that came to mind was-

“Addicting, isn’t it?” The coach cooed, wrapping an arm around Tony and pushing his head in further. “Mark really made sure to make his cologne captivating, that way you’d have no chance of escaping.”

Tony should’ve been panicking; he should’ve been screaming and trying to escape. But he couldn’t, and not because he was being physically held down. He could slip out in seconds if he wanted too, but that was the problem: he didn’t want too.

“After I discovered your little essay, I had to assure your disappearance would be quick and much more hidden than the other students.”

Tony was too captivated in the tangles of pit hair to hear or understand what was going on.

“Although Heir probably would’ve worked, I decided it would be best to be extra cautious. Mark had informed me a few weeks ago that he had made a new detergent for his uncle, the CEO of TenHaken Industries. Apparently it was a success, as its main purpose was to give the employees a few extra decades.”

Tony, who was still feverishly sniffing, began to feel pulsing tingles race across his limbs. He twitched violently but continued to dedicate his attention to the pits at hand.

“So, in hopes that Tony Reardon would vanish from the university while also becoming an advocate for the Athletic Department,” Coach Sorenson smirked proudly. “I decided to mix Heir with Maturitatem, the aging scent that Mark made for his uncle.”

The coach pulled a small, empty cologne bottle out of his pocket. It had two labels on it: one that had been originally attached and one that had been taped on. Tony wasn’t able to see either, but he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was smell the coach’s greasy jungles of pit hair.

Lost in bliss, Tony didn’t notice how the tingling from before had now spread to every part of his body. With every passing second, it seemed to be expanding, pushing outwards as if it was begging for release. In its attempts to escape, the energy pulled at Tony’s mass like taffy, stretching out his limbs and torso as they were pulled further apart. Satisfied with how the process had begun, Coach Sorenson had to readjust his arm to make sure the larger Tony could fit under it. Once the stretching had stopped, the lanky boy now stood at 6’4, just under the coach. He now had to crouch a little with his feet planted firmly on the floor so he could keep inhaling the intoxicating scent.

Now that he was of proper height, the tingling began to focus on certain areas of improvement. The first were the arms, which immediately bloated outwards as mass began to develop. Thick, juicy muscles pushed outwards to create firm biceps, triceps, and forearms. Veins snaked their way downwards to process more flow of testosterone and other hormones. Tony’s hands, which were previously delicate enough to make a typewriter silent, ballooned out as extra flesh made each of his fingers into calloused sausages. They were now only meant to throw, grip, and squeeze.

The tingling then moved across the shoulders and into Tony’s torso. Straight, strong shoulder blades popped out as his chest began to inflate with each huff. Two sturdy pecs pushed against his shirt fiercely, causing the buttons to eventually fly off in random directions. After the pectorals had arrived, they were followed by a magnificent eight-pack that was sure to impress crowds. A hard, defined core helped Tony’s stature become more masculine, giving him a stronger alpha presence to compare to the coach’s.

With the torso improved, the tingling split into two. The first colony swam south, spreading across Tony’s extended legs. The twitching began much more as the Coach eagerly watched the khakis strain at the seams before ripping. As they slipped away–along with his briefs–two sets of gloriously crafted trunks were revealed. Beefy quads were taking in their first light just like the sculpted calves below. A pair of succulent buttocks had also appeared below, hoisting Tony up a little further into Coach Sorenson’s armpit. The sheer size of Tony’s legs forced him to subconsciously push them apart to allow room for his below-average pouch. Although Tony wasn’t a true man yet, his newly-permanent manspread said otherwise.

The tingling also made sure to target Tony’s feet, giving off a similar feeling as if they had fallen asleep. The two soles began to slowly pulse outwards, gaining mass and girth with each increasing centimeter. It wasn’t long before Tony’s shoes were simply destroyed, losing their shape as they were torn into multiple pieces. Coach Sorenson watched on proudly as he swiftly pushed the remains of all the destroyed clothing underneath the coffee table. With surprise, he noticed that Tony was still wearing socks. They had once been knee-high, but now rested right at the ankle, just barely managing to cover the Size 16 feet.

The second group of tingles had now moved upwards, quickly bringing along a flurry of changes as it zipped by. Tony’s neck grew outwards to support larger, broadening vocal chords, which now provided a grumbling bass voice similar in timbre to the coach’s. Tony’s head lengthened out to give him a wider, more prominent chin, allowing for a sharper jaw in return. His ears perked out a little more, along with giving him a bigger nose, wider lips, and piercing brown eyes to replace his shimmering blue ones. His hair also tidied itself up, pulling back up and flopping over as it now had a modern, but natural lift to it.

“Yeah, you’re looking real good,” Coach Sorenson murmured, shoving Tony a little deeper into his pit. “Now, let’s see the namesake of Heir…”

The tingling returned to its roaring presence across Tony’s body once more, except this time it felt more like itching. Sprouts of hair follicles began to explode forth from Tony’s skin, blooming all across his legs, chest, and pubes. Hefty tufts swirled around each other on Tony’s forearms and thighs, while dense forests now covered his calves, chest, and the tops of his feet. Tony’s upper arms were pushed out just slightly to make room for the emerging jungles of pit hair, which now filled in a space Tony had no idea existed before. His face also gained a rather gracious smattering of hair, as he now adorned an extended goatee that could grow back in less than 24 hours. A strong odor began to erupt out of Tony’s body too, a masculine funk coming from his pits and feet that demanded authority.

“…and of Maturitatem.”

Coach Sorenson hadn’t exactly known how much of the detergent to add, but he had assumed a few drops was enough when he had mixed it into the cologne. By the looks of it, he had put in the perfect amount, as the effects were rather minor but definitely noticeable. Tightening of muscles all across Tony’s body came first, followed by the tiniest of wrinkles and weathered skin. Tony’s hairline fell noticeably back, and his once full head of hair lost its youthful thickness. His marvelous eight pack thrusted forward into a powerful muscle gut, almost identical to the coach’s. Finally, Tony’s body hair became a little denser and coarser, adding a few more playful curls across his limbs.

“You’re looking much better,” Coach Sorenson commented as he slowly brought Tony out of his armpit. Tony was startled and bewildered, the smell of the coach’s pits still potent in his nose.

“Now, let’s get you changed into, well, something.” The coach quickly maneuvered his lumbering body across the room to a cabinet, opening it to pull out a set of clothes.

“I always have a few spare shirts and shorts,” Coach Sorenson began as he plodded back over to Tony. “And looking at you, I’d say we’re pretty close to the same size now.”

As Tony was still in a daze, the coach had to help him put on the clothes. First, he carefully placed a tight, gray compression shirt over Tony’s chest, struggling a little at the pecs but eventually making it over. Then, he proceeded to shimmy a pair of blue compression shorts up Tony’s bare lower body, not bothering to grab him any sort of underwear. The coach knew he would rather be commando in the end anyway. Coach Sorenson also grabbed a black baseball hat that had been hanging on the wall and placed it on Tony’s head, making sure to twist it. Although Tony now looked to be around 30, he could still rock a backwards cap.

“Alright,” Coach grunted as he collapsed back into the loveseat beside Tony, the two barely fitting now. “There’s just one more thing we have to do.”

“One… more thing?” Tony’s sonorous voice seemed lifeless. His head had just begun to clear up, but at such a tedious rate that even the simplest of thoughts were difficult to comprehend.

“Yes, I’m surprised you didn’t know that this process had two steps.” Coach Sorenson grinned, glistening in the warmth of his own arrogance.

“First, there’s the cologne, which you’ve already experienced.” The coach brought up one of his feet onto the coffee table. Tony nodded in response, still unable to think straight.

“And then,” Coach Sorenson yanked off one of his sneakers. “there’s the sole of the shoe. It’s specially designed to help you mentally process the transformation.”

“Wait… what?”

“Yeah,” the coach replied, nonchalantly shoving the sneaker into Tony’s face. “When I read your article, which wasn’t half bad might I add, I was surprised to find that you had missed a whole component of our project.”

Tony, who had finally started to make it out of the haze, was sucked right back in as he passionately inhaled the coach’s foot funk.

“But, it doesn’t matter anymore.” Coach Sorenson demeaningly patted Tony’s back. “In a few minutes, you’ll barely be able to read an article, let alone write one. You’ll be just what the Athletic Department needs.”

To the coach’s delight, Tony had now grabbed the gargantuan shoe and was holding it to his own nose. His frantic sniffing was quickly replacing his personalities, values, and morals; shifting them out with thoughts crafted for a team player. Years of academic clubs, races, and scholarships fell away into the abyss, only to be replaced with numerous sport outings of various kinds. His saxophone lessons had changed to baseball practices, his writing seminars had switched into working out in the gym, and his tutoring sessions had flipped from him being the tutor into him being the tutored.

An extra ten years were also added onto his mental plate, giving Tony a whole new history. For years after (somehow) graduating from the university with a Sports Education degree, he had worked as a personal trainer at a local gym, climbing the ranks until he had become the assistant manager. That’s when Coach had dropped by to check on him, with his true intent to offer him an assistant coaching position back at the university. Tony had agreed to an interview not only because it would put his degree to good use, but he’d also get to work with Coach again, and under him. Tony suddenly recalled all the late nights he spent with Coach, lots of one-on-one brojobs, handjobs, and of course, offering his hole whenever Coach needed it. And if Tony got to train his own team, he’d have a group of young boys at his sexual disposal. Just thinking about it made his cock spring to life.

Speaking of his cock, all the information that was being replaced had to move somewhere else, with the only available option being Tony’s balls. With all of his former intellect and memories now stored there, the once previously grape-sized testicles had now bloated into two ample tennis balls. In response to the new volume, Tony’s sack began to ferment the material, slowly dissolving it down and reconstructing into pure jock seed. As the new production began, testosterone dispersed throughout Tony’s pouch, affecting his dick instantly. It was already hard at 5 inches, but it hastily expanded forward into his shorts, becoming as thick as a beer can as it now stood at 9.5 inches.

As everything that made up Tony was now accumulated in Tony’s balls, Coach Sorenson knew it was time for the final step. He gently grabbed the man’s giant cock, gave a good, long squeeze, and let go. Tony in turn took a deep, heavy inhale of the coach’s shoe before exhaling slowly, allowing for a giant wet spot to appear on the front of his shorts. The coach then leisurely made his way back to his own chair, taking a seat and getting into position. Now given more space, the new man hiked up both of his legs arrogantly on the coffee table, spreading them as far apart as possible to take up as much space on the loveseat as he could. Although he knew Coach Sorenson would always be superior, he wanted to make it clear that he could be an alpha too.

“Thank you for coming in today, Tony. I’m glad we could get you here on such short notice.”

“Of course, bro,” Tony responded. “I’d do anything for you, Coach.”

“Good to know,” Coach Sorenson winked before continuing. “Because I know you’re not that bright, we can skip past the logistics and get right to the basics.”

“That’s sick! Thanks, Coach.” Tony gave a dull guffaw.

“Now, Tony,” Coach accentuated the name, chewing on it intently. “Tony isn’t a name that demands respect, authority, and masculinity, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Coach.”

“To be a coach, you know how important it is to give the right impression. You need to be an example to these boys, someone they can look up too.”

“Yeah, Coach.”

“I know you want my advice.  I am a good mentor.”

“Yes, Coach, you are a good mentor.”

“Professionally, I think you should introduce yourself as Anthony Renz.” The change inside Anthony’s head was instant

“Yes Coach,” he replied proudly.

“Try it on me.”

“Hello, my name is Anthony Renz.” Any existence of the name Tony Reardon ceased to exist as Anthony Renz came into place.

“Very good, Anthony.” Hearing Coach say it, as though it always had been, made Anthony cum just a little more inside his shorts.

“One other thing,” Coach Sorenson added.

“Yeah bro?”

“Are you missing anything?”

Anthony thought it was an odd question, but he decided to respond to it truthfully.

“I’m missing nothing when I’m with my Coach!”

“Perfect,” Coach Sorenson replied. “Welcome to the team. Before you head out, let’s talk pay.”

Coach Sorenson proudly looked over his new Assistant Baseball Coach, happy that he’d gotten rid of a nuisance and filled a seat on his board. No one would come looking for Tony Reardon, but if they did, Coach Sorenson would know just what to do with them. Maybe Assistant Coach Renz would have some coworkers in the near future.