You don’t remember why you ended up here, only how. You came home with the guy. He was cute. He was hot. Incredibly, even. You would say far above your batting range, but he had taken some interest in you. Not to mention, he’d been so charismatic, so charming, so earnest, that you just couldn’t bear to say no to his cute face.
As you followed him through the pristine halls of his home, you felt lighter, happier, better than you had felt in years. If there had been mirrors around, you would have noticed yourself getting younger, settling down at around what you looked like at 20 years of age. It wasn’t saying much. You were pretty bad at the age of 20, having not a care in the world, not really paying much attention to how you looked or how you dressed, but you were changing.
What fat you had was melting off you, and what you lacked in muscles were beginning to grow in. Your shirt was tight as you started growing, the seams straining as you filled out, as you turned into the idealized version of you at 20. You felt your shirt loosen, but not that much, just enough to accentuate the new muscles that adorned your body. You would have freaked out and run, but you were feeling too good to give up the sensation.
As you walked, you also felt your face shifting around, changing. If you could have seen, you would have noticed the hair on the top of your head changing, growing thicker, healthier. If you had any gray hairs at all, they returned to your natural color. And your face, the asymmetries and the acne and all the pits and scars that had bothered you from your teenage years disappeared, leaving you fresh-faced and clean-shaven.
Your mind also began to regress, losing all your years of wisdom, all the knowledge that you had accumulated. Maybe you try to hang on to some of it, but it all invariably slips through your fingers. It’s at this point that you begin to worry, but you can’t figure out why. Your thoughts flit at the edges of your consciousness, teasingly darting in within reach and then out as you try to grasp them.
You feel slow, you feel dumb, but you also feel warm, light, happy, and fuzzy. It feels good. You’re stupid now, but it feels good. You let him lead you around the house, going around and around in circles, never suspecting, until he seems satisfied with your progress. At that point, he pushes past two large double doors revealing a room with a tiled floor and a large marble tub in the middle filled with foam.
You see wisps of steam rising from the placid surface, and you let go of his hand. You stop. You watch as he descends into the pool, wrapping himself in the foam. You can smell salt in the air, like the sea, and you notice that the pool is actually the lower half of an enormous clam.
You look at the man that had slipped into the tub. He speaks no words. Just looks at you. Watches you as you sway, no thoughts in your head, your cock getting hard. You hadn’t even realized that you were naked. Your cock rises between your legs, but you feel it shrink away, become irrelevant, little more than a nub. Your ass fills out, you feel your hole twitch. His eyes burn into yours with an intensity that makes your knees feel weak.
From the foam, you see his cock rise, breaking the surface of the water, like a delectable pillar of flesh that draws your attention and makes your feet bring you, unbidden, to the edge of the pool. You stop, apprehensive. Somehow, you know that once you bathe in the water, all of this would be permanent. You would be forever in the thrall of the being before you.
But your dulled mind can see nothing wrong with that and you take your first step into the warm water. Your cock spews between your legs, the pleasure overwhelming you, shattering what little is left. You dip your other foot in. You keep shooting as you walk toward the man, your mouth loose and open, drool dribbling from the tip of the tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth.
When you stand in front of him, you sink to your knees in worship and kiss his cock. “Good boy,” he says, rubbing your head. “Good boy.” And you lower your head and envelop his length. It is the most intense sensation you have ever felt. Who could have known worship at the feet of a god, one risen from the foam, could feel so good?
And if you want to follow my captions, shenanigans and such on the journey to becoming the dumbfuck himbo pup I was meant to be, then follow me at @DumPupEcho
Rob had worked hard on his body. Fifteen years of training and strict diet had given him a body to die for. Huge arms and legs. An abdomen of steel. It only sucked that he had to make do with a stupid desk job. He was good at it. It paid well. It wasn’t mind-numbingly boring. But it wasn’t what he thought he’d be doing at this age.
He was working when it happened. He had been feeling a bit ill-at-ease even before coming to work. Especially after the gym. He’d seen quite a few of the bubble boys on the treadmills, and they had all looked at him as though they knew something he didn’t.
Halfway through typing up an email, he felt like his clothes were unnecessarily restrictive. He ignored the sensation. It was okay for a while, at least until it felt like his clothes were strangling him. He tore off his shirt, first, not noticing that his broad chest had shrunk, that the sleeves were hanging loosely around his smaller-by-far biceps.
Rob’s pants were the next to go. Then his boxer-briefs. He nearly screamed when he saw himself in the mirror, all the muscles he’d worked on for years gone all of a sudden. All of his body hair had disappeared, too. He nearly panicked, but then a new sensation, a new overwhelming drive took over.
He fell to the floor with a loud thump, unable to help it as his hand travelled down his slender side to cup his ass. He felt like there was a fire inside him. And his throat was parched. He knew what he needed, but there was none of it nearby. He moaned, loudly, like a wanton whore, while he fingered himself. It would have to do for now.
Sudden-onset Bubble Boy Syndrome, it was called, the responding paramedic explained to Rob’s boss, and to Rob himself, while Rob was suckling on his cock and his colleague was ramming the new bubble boy hard. Old Rob would have understood what it all meant, but he was too busy thinking about cock and cum.
He would always be too busy to have another smart thought. For the rest of his life.
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What’s a pool party without bubble boys to fool around with? Ever since the virus struck and spread throughout the population, things have been somewhat different. Looking into the virus, its causes, possible cures, and methods of prevention stopped a long time ago when it became pretty clear that asking too many questions about the virus got you infected with it.
There was talk of quarantine, of course, even after the first few proponents of it ended up brainless sexed-up sluts. But by then, so many were infected and undergoing the change that it was a logistical nightmare that no one wanted to deal with, so it was left alone. The bubble boy virus became just another fact of life, but its pervasiveness brought with it a tide of cultural change.
One of the more dangerous new fads are bubble boy pool parties. Although they started out innocently enough, pretty much as an excuse for the immune to have a bit of fun with bubble boys in the summer. Not that bubble boys needed much of an excuse to have a little bit of sexual fun in any season, but the idea of pool parties seemed to appeal to them in the extreme.
It wasn’t until the uninfected started getting in on the fun that the real trouble started. No one knows how the first uninfected bubble boy pool party started, people think it was men who were jealous that the immune could so freely have fun with bubble boys, or maybe it was someone who just desperately wanted to play with bubble boys, but the end result was the same.
Bubble boy pool parties became a huge fad, especially among groups of the uninfected that had a dumbing down kink that wanted to contract the virus. These days, those parties are a veritable Russian Roulette, and it usually took a few weeks before anyone realized who had gotten infected.
These guys managed to get four bubble boys to attend their pool party, although they couldn’t quite wait for their friends to get there before getting the fun started.
I wonder if they’ll get infected. Oh well, guess we’ll find out soon enough. 😉
And if you want to follow my captions, shenanigans and such on the journey to becoming the dumbfuck himbo pup I was meant to be, then follow me at @DumPupEcho
Ian was a red-blooded man. He knew it. He just knew it. He had fire in his veins and that couldn’t have made him anything more than an Alpha male. It’s why he had chosen to work out on one of the platforms in the gym. Show off for the bubble boys that were busily trying to lift their pansy weights while really just wanting to do squats over the much-contested dildo-poles that made up a large portion of the gym floor.
Near everyone was naked, but that wasn’t much of a surprise anymore. There were still a few holdovers from the old world, pitiful, repressed, conservative men who thought that everyone should wear clothes. Public nudity laws had been pretty much repealed because they became unenforceable. What were the cops to do? Round up all the bubble boys who loved to strut practically or actually naked in the streets? Nah. There were too many, now.
Ian was one of the first generation of men that had never known women. He knew that his father had been an omega, but that didn’t matter. His father had been a surrogate. He had been raised by two Alphas that had, against all odds, fallen in love with one another. He had drank in their masculinity and he definitely had the body to show it. He wasn’t no bubble boy and he made sure the gym-goers knew it.
And he knew that the bubble boys loved men in gear, so he wore some whenever he decided to work out. He had every intention of taking home one of the bitches, bedding them, and showing them how a real man’s cock could make them squeal. But little did he know that there was another man, an actual Alpha watching his displays of superiority from the shadows, snickering.
Mark had amused himself long enough watching Ian pretend to be a real man. He was a carrier for the virus, and anyone who didn’t have the Alpha gene immunity would succumb as soon as he bred them. By the end of the day he was sure that he would have Ian bent over the platform, making the bubble boys envious as he pummeled that sure-to-be tight hole with his large, leaking, superior alpha cock.
When Mark was done with Ian, Ian would realize that muscles didn’t make him an Alpha when there was a dripping boycunt between his ass cheeks. And he was going to enjoy fucking the brains out of Ian a lot. The pretender had liked to boast about his intellectual prowess, lording his superiority over the bubble boys. But not for long. Mark was going to fuck Ian so hard, Ian’s brain was going to turn to mush.
And if you want to follow my captions, shenanigans and such on the journey to becoming the dumbfuck himbo pup I was meant to be, then follow me at @DumPupEcho
He had once been a promising athlete. A quarterback, even. His biggest asset was his height, and his bulk. Even in high school, he’d been a pretty big guy, easily the most intimidating person on the field. In college, he was the stuff of other players’ nightmares. His own team’s wet dreams, yes, but he was an utter terror to the others.
All that has changed, now. He had been a pretty homophobic dick, and he had shown no humility with regard to his near-perfect GPA even when he was investing a lot of time and effort into his football career. He’d taken every opportunity to loudly and boisterously boast. He tooted his own horn almost aggressively. No one in their right mind spoke up against him, though. No one wanted to get snapped in half over his knee.
But with the advent of the bubble boy virus, the world quickly changed around him. With football players succumbing left and right, people started looking at him as though he’d be the next. He got angrier and colder. He even beat someone up calling them a fag at one point, which got him suspended. Eventually, the rumors came true, and he lost everything that he once prided himself on. He remained tall, but his muscles melted away, leaving him mostly gangly. It was like all the meat went to his ass.
His brain melted, practically dripping out of his ears in the middle of class. He had to be tutored. Then, he had to take remedial classes. They weren’t very effective. He listened through one ear, but it went out the other. There was nothing to catch the words in between anymore, after all. Most tutoring sessions ended like this, him naked, bent over something, begging quietly with his eyes and a bit lower lip to get fucked up his new favorite toy—his ass.
And if you want to follow my captions, shenanigans and such on the journey to becoming the dumbfuck himbo pup I was meant to be, then follow me at @DumPupEcho
Rick was exactly the worst type of model you could find, cocky, sexy, and always wanting to show off his body whenever he could. It got to the point where his own agents could barely stand him as they watched him pose for the photographer, making sure to accentuate his lean body the best he could.
“Alright are we done here?” whined Rick. “I got some girls who liked my pictures from last month and they really want to meet.” The photographer rolled his eyes.
“Just a few more shots, keep posing,” declared the photographer as he ignored Rick’s scowl and got back to snapping pictures. By the time they were finished it was only because Rick refused to pose any longer, instead deciding to almost tell the photographer to go fuck himself underneath his breath as he started putting on his clothes. “Well thank you very much, Mr. Wellick. It’s been such a…pleasure working with you. I wanted you to have this.” The photographer mumbled, trying to make sure any vitriol in his voice as he took out an odd book that he had kept in his bag for later, but he felt that now it was needed.
Rick took the book, looking at the title.
“Very funny, but I don’t need this caveman shi- sh-” Rick stopped as he saw the photographer beginning to leave the building, looking down as he wondered why it was suddenly so hard to speak as an odd thumping like a heartbeat began in his own two hands.
“Enjoy, Mr. Wellick,” said the photographer as Rick looked down at his own hands, watching as they started to grow larger, the knuckles cracking and the fingers almost becoming too big for his own palm, to the point where it almost weighed him down. Even still, he couldn’t let go of the book as something else began thumping with the same throbbing and hot sensation, only being cooled down by an odd feeling of something wet and leaking as he looked between his legs.
His own skinny jeans were being stretched to their limit as hair began to grow on the back of his hand, so much it almost felt like it was fur. But no, Rick saw that it was clearly brown human hair and he couldn’t help but mumble and moan at the mounting pleasure of his throbbing cock but the fear of his changing hands.
“W-What the fuck is happening to me?” Rick cried as he quickly tried to go over towards the door, trying to pull it, but it didn’t budge. Was it locked? Rick tried to again and again only to feel as if he was growing too dumb, lacking intelligence that was being sapped away by the throbbing length as he started to feel dumber and dumber, so much so he couldn’t even open the door. “G-Gotta do something, this fucking book might help.”
Rick moaned and fell back as the first tears began to show, his own ass started to swell to the point where it was sagging him down with his great round cheeks that just begged to be filled.
But I’m not gay…don’t…don’t need a…need a…cock…fuck
Rick grasped his head with one hand and the book with another as he fell back and spread his legs apart to allow his thick shaft enough room to leak a puddle of pre-cum between his growing thighs.
The skinny jeans ripped and teared easily after his own ass swelled out of his underwear and pants. Hair continued to sprout along his fine legs, giving him a more animalistic and unkempt look as his own thicker thighs swelled with muscle and a bit of fat.
“Oh no! No! Not my abs!” Rick grunted in his newly deep voice as he felt his own torso beginning to change slightly, as hair began growing on his own clean shaven chest, he watched that he lost his lean muscle in favour of just a skinny body. “Fuck no! This can’t be happening…must…stop!” His cock continued to sway back and forth almost hypnotically as Rick began trying to read the words, to his shock and horror the book was composed of “spells” and on the page his thick fingers managed to comb through he found a page for “caveman” and another word he couldn’t understand.
“Found it!” Rick moaned as he started to read the reverse spell, even as his once rich brown hair grew darker and shaggier, as his face changed to be more prominent and hairy and his cock continued to bounce and distract him. “Iter-Itermum e-ev-e-OH GOD!”
Rick moaned as cum blasted out of his cock and sprayed all over the book making it unreadable both literally and mentally as the last of Rick’s intelligence sapped away as he clung onto the wet and dribbling book. He looked confusedly at everything around him and his more hairy body, deciding to grunt.
Rick may have been a sexy guy, but he was far too dumb to remember any of that as he sat there and played with his long thick cock.
Mitch watched from the window of his old room as his little brother Carter and his friends argued over their game of street football. Unlike his athletic little brother, Mitch was quiet and nerdy. He was almost done with his biology degree and was home for the summer but was constantly annoyed at Carter and his friends making noise, running around half naked and reeking of sports. Tonight it seemed one of Carter’s friends didn’t show up leaving them with an odd number and unable to play football. Mitch stomped down to see what all the yelling was about. Carter sarcastically apologized and promised if Mitch would fill in for their game they would never bother him again. This was tempting but Mitch didn’t even own any athletic wear so Carter talked him into putting on his extra pair of mesh shorts. Grumbling, Mitch agreed, stretching the shorts over his small gut and joining his brothers team.
“You have to take your shirt off Mitch, were skins!” One of them shouted. Mitch groaned, shy about his body but slowly removed his shirt and they started playing. As he caught and passed the ball he didn’t notice a gradual tan spread across his bare body. A slight red tinted his exposed arms and shoulders from long days in the sun. He even started enjoying the game and becoming better.
“Good job bro” Carter shouted as he high fived Mitch. Mitch’s spindly hands shrank down, the long fingers got stubby and calloused. Mitch didn’t even realize he was getting shorter and more muscular. His belly shrank in forming a hard flat stomach and a fresh treasure trail formed leading down to his shorts while his pecs became slightly larger and firmer. His long greasy hair retracted into short, sweaty spikes that framed his round boyish face that was looking more and more like Carter’s. As Mitch got younger he also got dumber sweating out all that useless college knowledge and intellectual stuff becoming a jock boy like his twin brother…
“Fuck bro I feel great let’s wipe them” the new Mitch shouted unaware of how reality changed around him, not that he’d care if he ever found out.
Robert rolled his eyes as he walked through the mens care store. It was stuffed with vitamins, douchey hair gel products, axe body spray and skinpy work out clothes. Items that the nerdy 16 year old would never use in his life or so he hoped but this was the last store on his application roadtrip and all others had rejected him so far. He really needed this summer job to save up for a new gaming pc. The large man working the counter glanced down at him with humor in his eyes.
“You sure youre in the right place son?” He chuckled kindly before offering Robert a vitamin which he graciously ate hoping to improve his odds of being hired. After selling his case as best he could the man simply shook his head. “Sorry but you’re not ready for this job yet, come back when you are.”
Robert fumed at his casual rejection and the stupid store, storming home to hop on a game. The anger must be ruining his focus he thought because every match he played he did worse and worse as his teammates mocked him. Eventually, he just couldn’t focus on this game, it was suddenly so boring to him. Even his stupid clothes weren’t fitting right.
His button up was stretched out and his feet ached in his shoes. He decided to turn on the TV and turned it to ESPN, a strange choice for him. Somehow he followed every word and got into the steam room talks about whose who in the athlete world. Normally he’d find sports gossip a bore to listen to but he clung to every word, not noticing be was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, letting his suddenly bronzed chest finally breathe. He felt great with the air against his chest, why the hell was he wearing a shirt? His formerly thin chest was now graced by two firm, protruding pecs and hardened abs. The start of his teenage treasure trail was expertly waxed to show off his hard work. Hair only covered muscle. He casually yawned, pulling the shirt completely off and flexing as hard muscles poked out of his darkening arms and his fragile gamer fingers got tough, calloused and thick. Standing up he didn’t realize he was now 6’2, nor that his now size 12 feet hard already torn through his too small shoes.
He lazily kicked off the remains, breathing in the sweaty jock scent that slowly permeated his room, it washed over his action figures and comic books making them sports magazines and play boys. His computer evaporated and was replaced with wrestling and baseball trophies. He grew slightly older. The now 18 year old Robbie grinned at the new full length mirror in his room, showing a bright cocky grin as he spiked up his hair into a typical messy gym boy style. He grasped his now monstrous package, moaning and closing his now dark somewhat blank dull eyes. When he opened them his faced changed and his new pretty jock face was staring back at him, the face that fell man and woman alike to come back after a work out session to ride a real gym machine.
A sudden phone call snapped him out of his self admiration. Shit, it was his boss, he was late for work again. He walked back down to the store, enjoying the glances he got being barefoot and shirtless as only his shorts survived the change. Smelling like the hormone driven man he was. His boss was such a cool guy, he provided him with a brand new uniform singlet and shoes when he showed up and then it was back to work. Showing everyone the body they can get by shopping here he pulled mad sales.
I was in love with my teacher. He always wore such tight clothes that showed off his body that could be likened to that of a god. Naturally I had no chance with him because he was twice my age, but a guy can dream.
One day while browsing in the library I saw a dust covered book that looked as if it hadn’t been touched in quite some time. As I pulled it out I saw that it was titled “Potions and Spells”. I assumed it was nothing more than a fantasy book, but I continued to read it nonetheless. Part way through I saw a recipe for a potion titled “The Fountain of Youth”. It claimed that this potion could regress someone’s age. Even though my mind was telling me it was just a fantasy book and didn’t actually work, I photocopied the page and got to work that night trying to create the potion.
One week later it was time for my school camp, with my favourite teacher coming on the camp too. During a hike, I had held to the back of the group as I knew it was my favourite teacher’s job to look after those at the back. I saw him go to grab a drink of water and his realisation that his water bottle was missing. I realised it was my time to strike. I handed him my water bottle with a smile and he happily used it to quench his thirst. Little did he know that it wasn’t just water that was in that bottle. As he took his last sip, I saw the realisation on his face that something was happening. He looked shocked as he began to shrink in height, his facial hair receding, in fact most of his body hair was receding. His face became more youthful and his tramping pack turned into a school bag. Before he had a chance to fully comprehend what was happening, I saw him blink and then all of sudden he seemed to forget everything that had just happened. “Phew, it’s hot,” I heard him say as he took off his shirt, revealing his toned and hairless body underneath.
As he put his school bag back, on he started to run off towards the rest of the students. “Come on, we better catch up with the rest of the class, we wouldn’t want to get told off by the teacher!” he shouted back to me. I stood there in disbelief as I realised that the potion actually worked. My teacher had been regressed to that of a teenager, a smoking hot, age-appropriate teenager. The regression of the mind was unexpected, but I guess it’s better that way. Just as I was about to run over to catch up with him, I saw him checking me out. “I guess the extra potion I added to make him gay worked too,” I thought to myself as a smile began to appear on my face. I should probably be thinking about the consequences of what people will think of having lost a teacher but somehow gained a student, but for the time being, I’m just going to focus on the teacher – or should I say student, that is waiting up ahead for me. It’s going to be a fun school year.
That’s easy enough. It just starts when you go to the gym. You might not even notice it at first, but your workout clothes are starting to change. As you lift weights, your shirt fades into a sheer tank top. Your sweatpants shorten, creeping up your legs until they’re tight short-shorts. By the time you finish your first set of reps, you look in the mirror and you see a little twink in slutty clothes looking back.
That’s when some of the other weight lifters notice you. They’re big beefy guys, tall, broad, so strong. So sweaty. One of them comes over to stand next to you, pretending not to notice you as he lifts a dumbbell up over his head. With his armpit exposed, you smell his sweat and it makes your head swim.
You grab some dumbbells and start lifting too. You can see your self changing in the mirror. Every time you lift it, your arms get thicker, and stronger. But something’s draining out of you: your mind’s getting dull, stupid, giddy.
“Looks good bro,” says the bodybuilder.
“Thanks dude,” you say in a deeper voice than you’re used to. What’s going on? You should stop. You know you should. You’re getting so stupid. But you can’t – with each lift, your body’s getting hotter and hotter.
“Gonna turn yourself into a real dumb gym bunny if you keep going,” the bodybuilder grins.
“Fuck yeah,” you smile back, your big buck teeth showing. Did you always have those? You can’t remember. Who cares. Just lift. Keep going. Keep counting. What number comes next? You forgot how to count.
You set the weights down and when you look back up in the mirror, you see whiskers on the side of your face. You laugh. Dumb bunny.
“You wanna spot me, bro?” you ask your new friend, and he nods.
You lie back on the weight bench, and he stands above you, his crotch touching your forehead. You grasp the barbell to do your bench presses. With each thrust, you feel your ears twitch and grow and surge. Furry. Tall. A dumb gym bunny’s.
By the time you set the bar down, your ears are fully grown. You sit up and feel a twitch over your ass – reaching back, you feel your new tail. It’s a thick puff of fur, and it matches the tail on your new friend. “Nice,” he says. “You wanna get your paws next?”
“Yeah bro,” you say, and soon you’re doing squats, feeling your thighs thicken with muscle and your feet expanding in your shoes. The canvas of your sneakers tears away, revealing huge floppy furry paws. You set down the barbell you’re holding and reach down to feel them – so big and strong!
“You’re so fuckin hot as a bunny, dude,” says the bodybuilder, and you flex your powerful new body for him.
He falls to his knees to smell your crotch – so musky and damp. There’s no mistake – you’re an alpha gym bunny. It’s what you were born to me. In charge. Huge. Strong. Stupid. Free of your dumb human life.
Read more tales of sexy gay transformation by Douglas Benjamin: http://bit.ly/DBGPlus
Muscle Tf Lover 