Himbo on Campus

    Sam was dissatisfied with his life. He was cute, extremely smart and had a very loving family. A family that even supported him when he came out as gay. But Sam’s life was permeated with a sense of longing. He wanted more.

    Sam had always loathed his skinny stature. Sam always prioritised his education and his intelligence over exercise. He liked being smart. But he couldn’t help but be jealous of all the sexy muscular models on his Instagram feed. Their bodies. Their popularity. He envied them. Sam let out a sorrowful sigh and mumbled:

    “Life must be so easy for those big popular jocks. I wish my life was that simple.”

    As soon as the words left his mouth, Sam began to get dizzy. It felt as if the entire room was spinning. Sam stumbled towards his bed. He sat down as the spinning slowly came to a halt. He knew that something was different but he didn’t know what.

    Suddenly, Sam felt his chest began to tingle. Sam hopped up from his bed as the tingling sensation became more intense. Too intense for Sam to handle. Sam began moaning and writhing. He looked down at his chest and let out a big shriek. His chest was inflating. Becoming bigger. Growing meaty and thick. Rounder and fuller. Sam was in shock. His huge pecs were unnaturally large for his skinny frame. It was as if the skinny nerd had developed a hefty set of perky breasts.

    Sam didn’t have time to panic. The tingling feeling began to change his entire body. His legs became defined and beefy. His skinny stomach filled with muscle and a six pack began to form. His biceps inflated becoming the size of footballs. His ass got juicier and fatter becoming more round and voluptuous. His body looked like that of a sexy quarterback.

    Sam looked at his body in awe. He was beautiful. He had the body every gay man dreamed of. He had an ass that every top would want to dominate. Sam jumped with glee causing his new fat ass to jiggle and his new perky tits to bounce. He finally had it all. He had always been smart but now he was sexy and handsome too. He was every gay man’s wet dream.

    Sam heard his phone buzz. He was shocked to see that his phone was blowing up with messages from the most popular girls in his college. The messages were filled with heart emojis and flirty comments. Some woman even sent Sam explicit photos of her breasts. Sam was confused. He was openly gay. They knew he wasn’t interested in girls. Why were they they texting him?

    Sam’s face began to tingle. Sam examined his face in the mirror. His face began to change. His jaw became more pronounced and squared. His brows became more pronounced. His lips grew fat and fuller.

    “Perfect dick sucking lips” Sam joked.

    His face was now the epitome of masculinity. He looked like every stereotypical college football jock. Just when Sam thought the transformation was over, he began to feel the tingling sensation invade a part of him that he hadn’t expected it to. His brain.

    Sam’s brain began to tingling intensely. Sam slowly felt his intelligence drain from his brain. Years of studying and hard work lost. With each IQ digit lost, Sam became more relaxed. More happy. More dumb. His smarts slowly becoming drool that would gather in his mouth and eventually dribble out onto his bedroom floor. Sam couldn’t help but let the drool slowly drip out of his mouth. He couldn’t close his mouth. It felt so natural for Sam to leave his mouth open. It made him look like he was always confused. His dumb vacant expression made it so people could tell that he was just a big booty himbo. A dumb himbo who will never achieve anything in his life. Sam’s expression became more and more vacant until eventually all he could let out was let out a dumb chuckle. He looked at his new self in the mirror and mindlessly bounced his new big tits. He let out a big dumb laugh as his squeezed his pecs together, pretending they were breasts.

    “Me dumb” he chuckled at the mirror as he brainlessly poked his new reflection and made a stupid face.

    Sam stood staring vacantly at his new naked reflection. His hair turned into a light blonde, the perfect colour for a dumb himbo like him. The tingling traveled down through Sam’s body and made it’s way to the dumb jock’s cock and balls. Sam, or Sammy as his bros like to call him, was completely oblivious. The tingling targeted the weaker sperm in his balls. The tingling eradicated any evidence of weaker sperm and replaced it with thick potent alpha sperm. His average sized ballsack inflated, becoming fat and droopy as it slowly filled with new potent cum. His penis shot forwards in length giving Sammy a nice thick 10 inch cock.

    Suddenly, the gay pride flag on Sammy’s bedroom wall began to disappear, being replaced by posters of sexy women who’s breasts were almost bursting out of their bikinis. The jock slowly began to lose all memories of having slept with men or being attracted to men. Sam’s memories of getting fucked by guys were replaced with memories of his new jock body breeding women. As Sammy became straighter and straighter, his body oder became more pungent. He didn’t care for showers or hygiene anymore. In fact, Sammy found body oder funny. He loved messing with his bros by shoving their faces into his smelly pits and forcing them to take a big whiff of his stench. Sammy also loved to burp and fart around his bros. He would chug his protein shakes, whip out his ass and then release a big groaning protein fart onto his bros’ faces and sometimes even their food. But his bros were disgusting too. They found it funny to eat the food that had been subjected to Sammy’s fowl gas. They also found it hilarious when Sammy farted directly into their faces. It was just bros being bros. Sammy loved his bros and they loved Sammy. But more importantly, Sammy loved the hot babes on his campus.

    “I so horny. Need fuck” he grunted like some kind of animal.

    Sammy’s asshole began to be changed by the tingling sensation. Sam’s loose hole that had seen many years of penetration began to close up. It tightened. It became so tight that no penis would ever be able to enter his ass again. His ass would only be used for farting in his bros’ faces and shitting. Not any gay shit.

    Sam’s old personality and his homosexuality were banished into the himbo’s balls. Sammy’s boner does the thinking for him from now on. Sammy dumbly chuckled and browsed through the girls’ messages. When he saw the image of the girls’ big bouncing tits, he immediately shot his potent load all over himself. It was like a waterfall. Along with the potent sperm, Sammy also shot out his smarts, his homosexuality and his old personality.

    Sam was now nothing but an empty headed horny himbo. A big dumb jock who’s only purpose in life is to look sexy and dumb. Just like he always wanted. His life was so much simpler now. All Sammy does is drink protein shakes, work out, fart on his bros and impregnate. How much simpler could someone’s life get?

    To the one who requested Chronivac - Here’s my version of it!

    You look at your friend’s Instagram, horrified at what you see. You had never known Kevin to be the vain type, and yet his gallery was full of selfies of an incredibly sexy man with tattoos covering his ripped, toned body. What scared you is the fact that these pictures were of wildlife yesterday. No more beautiful pictures of Red Foxes, no more artistic shots of Bougainvillea flowers, no more innocent art; only vanity and an unrecognizable Kevin Rayne. Wait, that was his name wasn’t it?

    Your phone begins to ring. It’s Kevin on Skype, wanting to video chat. You accept the request, fully expecting to see his chubby cheeked face laughing his ass off. What greets you is the unfamiliar, yet arousing smoulder of the man in the pictures.

    “Where is Kevin?” You demand, shouting into your phone at the top of your lungs. The man behind the screen just smiles, and says nothing. To you, it looks as if he is pressing buttons on his screen, as his tattooed fingers distort the screen.

    “It’s me bruh. Just gimme a sec.” He continues to fiddle with his phone before you bring to an end his cryptic attitude. But before you could even begin to call out this impostor, you feel a strange tingling in your hands. You glance down to see two uncomfortably large paws where your previously average hands used to be. 

    You scream and drop your phone, terrified at the gigantic palms and long fingers. From the Skype call, you hear Kevin laughing. 

    “Pick me up, bro!” You grab the phone and run into the bathroom across the hall. “Dude, I had to prove to you that this was legit. It’s totally me.” Shocked at the claim, you demand for the Pseudo-Kevin to return your hands to normal size. With the swipe of his finger, they shrink instantaneously. “There, dude. Believe me?” 

    You stare into the screen, dumbfounded. Surely this can’t really be Kevin. “I came across this download. Someone sent it to me in text. When I clicked on it, it downloaded this app. It made me this fuckin’ sexy ass hunk!” You scoff at his insinuation, in denial of the strange occurrences surrounding him. “I gotta share it with you dude. Or better yet…” You watch nervously as he begins to swipe across the screen.

    Helpless, you watch as your entire body structure shifts and realigns. Broad shoulders, long torso, and a hefty 6′1. “There, that’s better. Ooh, let’s try this!” You scream at your friend to stop, before your body inflates with muscle like balloons. You stare down at your huge body, flabbergasted. “Cool. Let’s get you a bit tanner. Maybe a better haircut than that shit you call a style.” Several things morph and twist about your body: feet expand to twice their original size, a healthy beach tan sprawls out across your skin, a typical jockbro hairstyle adorns your scalp, while your endowment grows down south.

    “Fuck yeah, bro. That looks awesome. Just one more thing for ya.” He taps the screen once more, as your head begins to cloud. Your ears start ringing, and your shouts of shock echo in the cavernous room. Just as suddenly as it began, the ringing ceased. “Open your eyes, bruh. Tell me what you think!” You open your eyes to see the sexiest himbo you’ve ever seen. You grope your meaty pecs, and cup your substantial package, dumb laughter accompanying you throughout. Your head feels lighter, as if a huge burden had been lifted from your mind; emptier, clearer, simplified. “Atta boy. Throw on some clothes and get over here. We’re goin’ out tonight!”

    Kevin ends the call, while you stand in awe of your newfound appearance. It’s almost as if you have to snap a picture for your Instagram. Like it’s second nature. After all, himbos gotta have their fans.


    I hired all three of the bodybuilders to dance at my party, and they were a huge hit.

    “Nice job, guys,” I said at the end of the night. They stood before me in next to nothing, just the skimpiest briefs, their bodies slick and sweaty with a strong musky smell.

    “You have checks for us?” said one of them.

    “Maybe next time,” I said. “This was just an audition tonight. You guys were fine.”

    “That’s not what we agreed to,” said another. “You’ll have to pay us now.”

    “Look, meathead, I don’t have to do anything,” I said. What a bunch of idiots. “Now leave before I call security.”

    “You can’t call security,” said the third. “They won’t recognize you.”

    “Why won’t they … uh … what?” I said, my head growing groggy. I fell to my knees, weak and dizzy.

    “You’re just one of the dancers,” said a voice.

    Was I? I looked down at myself. The business suit I was wearing seemed to grow thin and threadbare. Worn-out. It began to fall from my body, leaving only a blue pair of skimpy briefs on my thin frame.

    “I’m not a… I’m not a dancer,” I said, but I wasn’t sure. Who was I? I sure smelled like a dancer, with all this sweat. Or was it them, did they smell? Was their smell rubbing off on me?

    I lifted an arm to sniff – no, it was me, I stunk. I must’ve been dancing all night. Yeah, that’s right. I stared at my arm as it bulked up with muscle, growing thick and strong and hairy. The other arm swelled too, then my chest, my back, my abs.

    Rising to my feet, I felt the muscle growing down my legs, my thighs and calves thickening with strength. My feet stretched, growing long and hairy, giant meaty slab-like feet on my huge hulking body.

    “What did you… what am I?” I said, staring down at myself.

    “You’re one of us,” said the dancer in the red briefs. “Muscle man. Body builder. It used to just me be. But then I started turning bad bosses into good men.”

    “Good men?” I said. I felt so stupid. Why couldn’t I concentrate?

    “Don’t think about it too hard,” said one of the other guys. “We all live in a loft now. Mostly just fuck and work out, get hired for dancing or whatever.”

    “Awesome,” I said. “Am I coming with you now?”

    “That’s the plan,” said the one in red. “Of course, as the new guy, we’re going to have to take you for a test drive.” He stepped closer, reaching around behind me. I felt his finger slide down inside my briefs to my ass crack, then press against my hole.

    “Let’s see how many cocks we can fit in here at once,” he said.

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    A perfect example of one of Eros’ victims was Chris. He was a physics major in college but spent a lot of time online doing roleplays and looking at art of dumb surfer himbos. Always shirtless and barefoot and covered in sweat and sand and sea water. He just loved that fantasy. He had a few dreams about becoming one but of course new he was on his way to his degree, then grad school where he planned to specialize in astrophysics and then his overall goal of working for NASA, so he knew he would never actually trade his success and potential away to be a dumbass.

    While he was out studying on the beach one day, he found himself distracted looking at hot guys. He noticed there was some kind of recruitment table set up for some modeling thing. He stared at it longingly as he noticed the hot guys gathered around. And it was like that, staring and half drooling that Mr. Ross noticed him and walked over, a mischievous grin on his face.

    "Hey there dude" he said to Chris in a deep, almost hypnotic voice. "Couldn't help but notice you staring, you thinking of trying out?" Chris? Try out for a modeling firm? The very idea was ridiculous, he was pale with short black hair, glasses and he was very thin, not muscular or attractive at all, not completely unattractive either but he was the type that could blend into a crowd of people as an average person. "Uh no I was just um" he struggled for the right words to say. "Just admiring my employees?" Mr. Ross said with a grin. "I mean you could use some work but you can definitely come try out" and suddenly Chris wanted to, he stood up and when he did the older man wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

    When this happened Chris felt a sudden warm, pulsing energy flow through his body. The energy ripped through his body and as they walked his muscles burned like he was getting an intense workout. His leg muscles flexed and burned as they sculpted themselves into perfect swimmer legs. His feet began to crack and stretch until they grew to huge size 13, breaking the strap of his flip flops leaving him barefoot. He felt all of this but was being dragged along by the ancient god who was telling him all about the joys of surfing and sex and the beach. The man's voice was hypnotic to the point that Chris couldn't escape his grasp or even struggle, or call for help from the beach goers. His ass bubbled out and grew nice and firm as his mind was blasted with waves of pleasure while his dick grew longer and thicker and regrew it's foreskin. His very thin stomach filled out with muscle and a six pack formed while his body hair retracted. His pecs pushed out until he had a sexy, lean torso. The man's arm moved while Chris' shoulders grew wider. The warm energy spread to his arms while they flexed with muscle. Especially in the biceps. His neck changed while his Adams apple got bigger. "You won't be needing these" the man said, pulling off Chris' glasses while his face molded into a much sexier version of itself and his hair turned blond and styled itself up.

    The god snapped his fingers and Chris' clothes changed, his shirt vanished into thin air along with his boxers, his shorts turning into blue board shorts with stripes. And a snapback cap appeared backwards on his head

    "You are a Hot, sexy, dumb, bi himbo surfer now. Surfing is your life, you live for the surf and the sand and sea" the ancient sexual being said to Chris "your new name is Chad and your the fucking king of the surf. You love to get naked, you love to fuck and get fucked and you love showing off your hot bod" and as all this was said Chris' mind was overwhelmed by the new Chad persona until there was nothing left

    "So you ready for the photo shoot dude?" Mr Ross asked his newest thrall "Huhuhuh sure bruh!" Chad replied as he got into pose. This was the first of many pictures, the advertisement, if people bought the July addition, they would get to see his nudes.


    My boyfriend's a programmer and we've been talking. He told me he's been so stressed lately and he just really wants a break. He's also been wanting to shed a few pounds and get in shape but the stress isn't helping, you know? I want to surprise him! I was wondering if the pink fairy could help him stop thinking so much and turn his cute chub into pure muscle! He'll love it! I'll love it to ;3

    Such a waste of talent, I think. A smart, brilliant young man, with skill and potential to be great, all thrown away on a wish for a bit of a break from all the thinking and all of the work. Oh, honey, it’s too late to back down, now. The magic has already been enacted. Just know that there’s a price to pay, though I don’t think either of you would be particularly dissatisfied by what you end up with.

    You open your eyes and suddenly you’re standing in front of a gym. Your boyfriend is beside you, but he seems almost different. His formerly bright eyes are dull, and he has a bit of a dopey look on his face. He looks around, but his eyes just glide over everything, almost like he’s not really paying all that much attention. And then he sees the sign for the gym and chuckles, the sound deep  and utterly devoid of any intelligence.

    “Bruh,” he grunts. “Let’s go in already. Can’t wait to fuckin’ pump these bitches,” he says, flexing his bulging biceps right in front of your eyes. The sight of it turns you on, and as your cock hardens in your track pants, you feel your mind fogging up ever so slightly. “Bro, like come on, we don’t have, like, all day,” your boyfriend insists.

    Despite your better judgment, you follow him into the gym, and immediately the sound of pounding music assaults you and your senses. A small, brainless smile spreads across your boyfriend’s face and his eyes go unfocused. He stands there for a moment, mouth slightly agape.

    You can hear him breathing through his mouth, and that fact sends another pang of pleasure through your cock. Your mind keeps getting foggier and foggier. You try to grasp for your intelligence, but it keeps slipping away. Your thoughts keep going slower and slower, becoming simpler with every passing moment.

    It feels good. So good to listen. You look at your boyfriend as a smile to mirror his breaks across your face. He grabs you by the hand as he strips off his shirt and his pants, leaving him in just his sneakers and snapback. You do the same, going down to your jockstrap as you walk into the next room of the gym.

    You don’t find a gym, however. You find a veritable orgy. You see couples, pairs, performing typical exercises but in a much more erotic fashion. A guy is doing burpees, sucking on a cock with every rep, and nearby a man is doing push ups, with his cock sinking into a moaning twink’s hole every time he lowers himself to the ground.

    You chuckle dumbly. “Bruh, you should like, probably get on the bikes. You like those, right, babe?” your boyfriend says. You giggle, vapidly. Yeah, you love the bikes. The bikes are great. There are no seats. Instead, there are big floppy dildos that the rider can bounce up and down on while working out.

    Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your boyfriend doing bench presses while a hung personal trainer stands behind him, cock out. Every time your boyfriend does a rep, the trainer lets him suck on the cock resting across his face. It’s so hot you can’t help but spray the bike with your cum, adding to the layer that’s already built up on the equipment.

    Your boyfriend and you are definitely not going to have any trouble with stress from now on, and I bet with the guy like that helping him out, he’ll be hot and cut in no time. ;)

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    Pink fairy, would you mind helping me out? I’m tutoring this jock; he has potential to do really well in class, but it seems like is content cruising by. I try pushing him, but he wants me to chill out. I’m willing to give him a bit of my intelligence to help him out. Can you help us?

    See, here’s the problem with you nerds. You think that academics is the be-all and end-all of things. But that’s not really the truth. It doesn’t take a fairy to know that unless you’re going into academia that university grades don’t really matter. It’s good enough to just take the passing grade and move on. But you’re so used to the expectations on you now that you don’t think that’s acceptable, do you? Well, I’m sorry to say, but I think that your jock friend has the right of it. Why stress himself out chasing after a perfect GPA when there are so many other things that he could be doing with his life?

    Oh, that’s not to say that I won’t take you up on your offer. I exist to fulfil the hottest, gayest fantasies, after all. I’m just saying, don’t be too surprised if it doesn’t have the effect that you want it to. After all, just making someone more intelligent says nothing about what they’ll be doing with that intelligence. You’re not changing his personality, you know.

    Honey, it’s too late to back out now. The process has already started. An equivalent exchange. Some of your smarts for some of his body. And then, on top of that, my price for going through all of this trouble for you. Can you feel it? Yeah, just look down at that homework you have in front of you. What does this big word mean? Oh, you don’t remember? That’s good. I can tell you’re getting nervous, you’re starting to get panicky. Why can’t you figure out how to do this simple division, that basic addition?

    Haha. Don’t worry. You’re feeling fuzzy. Your head is starting to get foggy. I can see your eyes glazing over. You feel hot now, don’t you? Horny all over? Can you feel your ass swelling? Yeah, I thought I’d throw in a nice bonus bubble butt. You’re going to need it, after all, with how dumb you’re going to end up being. Little slut like you will be too stupid to work in any industry.

    You might think that construction work is pretty braindead, but you’ll be wrong. Your dumb ass would be a liability on those sites, so don’t even think about it. Actually, why don’t you stop thinking, period? It would feel so much better. Yeah, just give in to that pink cotton candy getting shoved in your head. It feels so good, doesn’t it? Just slowing your thoughts down. Making sure you don’t listen to them.

    You’re getting so dumb now, aren’t you? Makes it so much easier to just listen to someone else tell you what to do. Makes it so much easier to let someone else think for you. Don’t worry. The jock you’ve been tutoring has always been pretty smart. He’s just never wanted to apply himself. You’ve just made him much smarter. I bet he’ll know exactly what to do with your ass.

    And I bet you’ll love what he does. Well, have fun with your new life my dumb slut. I don’t think you quite accomplished what you wanted. The jock seems to want to focus more on fucking you and using you the way you’re supposed to be used than on his academics.

    But with all the extra brainpower you’ve given him, I’m sure that he’ll find a way to be successful. After all, he’ll have a pretty slutty ex-nerd on his hands. The perfect camera whore. ;)

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    Cliff thought it was pretty stupid. An urban legend passed around from camboy to camboy because that’s just how things survived. Everyone was terrified of even making the finger-guns on-stream because they were afraid it was going to happen to them. The chats usually offered a lot of money for the camboys to go through with it, though.

    Cliff had just finished talking to his chat about it. He’d gone off on a long tangent about stupid people and letting their stupid superstitions cheat them out of their money. A couple of people in the chat were pretty vocal about the urban legend being real, but for the most part Cliff ignored them. At least until they started offering larger and larger tips for him to do it.

    So that was how he ended up with a finger-gun to his forehead. If he was being entirely truthful, there was a small part of him that was afraid something was going to happen. There was a small part of him that advised him not to do it on the off-chance that it might work. But he had just gotten an offer of $5000 to do it, and he wasn’t about to waste the chance to get $5000 when all he had to do was prove a stupid superstition false.

    “Pew,” he said, making a shooting motion with his fingers. A chill traveled down his spine as he felt something sharp and cold lance through his head. His eyes widened and he looked at his fingers in surprise. He moved to type something to chat, but as he looked at the keyboard, he could only tilt his head. He knew that he should know how to type, but for some reason he couldn’t figure it out.

    Cliff looked at the chat and then realized that the words and letters were blurring together. For the first time in his life, his mind was quiet. “Uuugh…” He groaned, feeling his cock growing hard in his pants as he futilely tried to grab at the few stray thoughts making their way through his largely empty brain now.

    Maybe he should have listened to his friends. Oh well, too late now. He’s the lucky winner of the himbo roulette, and as his eyes glassed over, and he slipped his underwear down to his ankles to shake his butt at the camera, the chat realized what had happened and cheered. Not that he’ll ever know that, now. And the $5000 he had been offered? He was never going to get it.

    Follow @KinkyPupEcho for more stories and captions. I have ebooks, too, at the following link: Ethan White @ indieerotica!

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    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. ;)

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    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.

    Follow @KinkyPupEcho for more stories and captions. I have ebooks, too, at the following link: Ethan White @ indieerotica!

    If you want to read more of my work, visit the following links:

    Stories | Captions | Short Form | Long Form

    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.

    Follow @KinkyPupEcho for more stories and captions. I have ebooks, too, at the following link: Ethan White @ indieerotica!

    If you want to read more of my work, visit the following links:

    Stories | Captions | Short Form | Long Form

    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