This one’s a perversion of Blank Boy Zeta’s recent story. You’ll find the original on his page. I hoped to dumb it down and bounce it up like a pectoral muscle.
Pectoral muscles bouncing brightly like a bull’s beefy tits in a bro’s photoshoot, the once normal guy has found himself transformed into a moronic, sex-crazed jockboy. What’s really hard for normal guys to comprehend, though, is that he still hasn’t really lost any of his intelligence. He just chooses not to use it.
Any why would he want to use it right now? The imposing, undeniable prominence of his alpha ape shape, smooth and horned up, the backward ballcap concealing and shutting down the thoughts of his mind, which are now blissfully oriented towards sex and other men. It feels fucking great, bro. More guys should transform themselves, bro. Reflected in his bit lip and clenched jaw, in the joyful smirk on his face, there is a dominant sexuality in his eyes which he tries to accentuate. There’s a craving for the superiority of a surface-oriented life, an ease that’s only found when the gym and sex are omnipresent, the utter perfection of a horned-up life he’s living to the max.
Don’t you wish to become a man somewhat akin to his equal, a man who would not cower in his presence, a man would would find himself confidently placing a hand on his shoulder? Don’t you wish to suck on his firm jawline, to rut your cock against his abs while licking his Adam’s apple? “You’re fucking perfect, bro,” you wish to say, all as he pins you down and gets his sweaty pecs in your face, bouncing them as you slobber and drool all over them like a bull in heat. You wish to be locked in a padded cell with him for a month, an experimental stud injected with bro-enhancing drugs, with nothing to do except exercise, fuck, and play with each other’s bodies. You want him to allow you to ram your cock in his mouth as he enthusiastically gags and chokes on it. You want him to ride your ass like a cowboy in heat, feeling it would surpass the beauty of the pioneers’ conquest of the American west. You feel he’s the most potent male you’ve ever seen, and that licking his sweat, stimulating his prostate with your fist, and having weeks of sex with him until your minds are both totally empty, until you’re staring into each other’s faces, yourself supine and him prone on top of you, your arms straining with the weight of holding him up, your hands locked in grip, your muscles flexing, saying ‘bro’ stupidly, a streak of drool falling from his lower lips onto your face as he gazes down at you with lust and what feels like love, the stupid expression on his face only making it seem all the more real and profound… you feel deeply and strongly that this is all that matters in our present day reality, here in the immediate now, in the eternity of bliss that comes with every male orgasm that you wish to taste, to feel, to experience in all of its many permutations. You wish to feel and have this all right here and right now, for as long as possible, again and again. You wish to ride the divine coil of his cock, thighs straddling his thighs, as you look down into his eyes and low ‘bro’ at him, knowing your muscle, sex drive, and manhood are all that matter in the world to the both of you.
Cum in these big, hairy nuts is the essence, muscle is the vehicle. You will be sprayed by this bro’s potent sperm up your asshole soon, finding the closet thing to bliss available for a guy like you in this world. You will forget all the dreams and hopes of your ancestors, falling on your knees for this bro to mount you, to grip you, to fill you with his cum, and hopefully, you hope, pervert you into pursuing your own transmutation into a stupid fucking muscle jock who’s as sexed up or even sexier than he is. You crave perfection. You will find true fulfilment only in becoming as handsome, as muscular, as jocked up and as rooted in the everlasting present you can possibly be, finding fulfilment only in putting the beauty of your own body – and all the enhancing potentialities of sex with other men – first and foremost in your prominent, protruding masculine forehead. Jockboy guys be like, we gotta fuck, bro.
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