Hyono sub

look at dese two big dumb jocks right here absolutely drippin after destroyin da gym. dat shiny ass skin? dat aint no baby oil bro dat pure sweat from goin full retard mode on da weights. dese bros been in dere sweatin their brains out n i love it.

real talk if u leavin da gym n u aint lookin like u just got outta da shower wit all ur clothes on den u didnt push hard enough fr fr. me n my crew hit legs n chest today n i was leakin sweat like a broken faucet da whole time. shirt stuck to my back, shorts soaked, forehead drippin in my eyes burnin but i kept goin. brain went completely empty after da first 30 mins jus pure musclehead mode lift eat sleep repeat.

if ur towel aint completely drenched n u can still think straight after leg day u gotta turn around n go back in bro. real jocks leave da gym lookin like dey ran thru a car wash. dese boys in da pic get it — shiny, red, stupid grins, flexin in compression shorts cuz dey earned dat pump. sweat pourin off every inch a dat muscle. dat how u know u actually worked.

i aint leavin till im a walkin puddle. till my head so fried i cant even spell my own name n my clothes feel like dey glued on. if u aint sweatin ur brains out every session u never gonna look like dese jacked up meatheads. simple as dat.

Ben had always played it safe. He was twenty, lean and bookish, with sharp cheekbones, a clean style, and an academic scholarship that kept his parents off his back. He was the type to keep his calendar color coded, to eat clean, to work out just enough to stay fit without bulking. Everything in his life was about balance. He wasn’t out looking for anyone to take control of him. In fact, Ben liked to believe he was the one in charge. But some part of him, (the part he barely acknowledged) craved something heavier. He just didn’t know what yet.

He downloaded a hookup app one night, not for anything serious, just to blow off steam. That’s where he matched with Jay. Jay was twenty-six and local, a shaved-headed gym lad with thick arms, heavy ink, and a profile full of grainy mirror selfies in Nike techs. No description, no bio, just a location and a smirk. It wasn’t Ben’s usual type. Still, something about the guy stuck. Maybe it was the confidence. Maybe it was the way he looked like he didn’t have to try.

They agreed to meet up. Ben dressed casual clean jeans, sneakers, a neutral tee. Nothing fancy. Jay opened the door shirtless, in grey tech fleece joggers and white TNs. A thick gold chain lay across his collarbone, and even from the doorway, Ben caught the smell of him sweat, weed, something musky and raw that hit like a slap. It wasn’t gross. It was magnetic. It made Ben’s thoughts go slow.

Jay didn’t greet him with a smile or a hug. Just jerked his head toward the living room. Ben followed, already feeling like something had shifted. They hooked up, but it was calm, not aggressive. Jay was quiet but in control, hands firm, grip confident. He kept his sneakers on the whole time white TNs, spotless, heavy. They brushed against Ben’s legs while they kissed, while they moved, and something about the weight and scent of them made Ben ache deeper than he expected.

When he left later that night, his own shirt still faintly smelled of Jay. He breathed it in on the train ride home, heart pounding for no clear reason.

They met again two days later. Jay hadn’t asked him to come he just texted his address and a time. Ben didn’t even think about saying no.

Jay had a pair of old Adidas trackies laid out on the bed, creased and worn. “Put these on,” he said, not even looking up from his phone. Ben blinked. “What, like now?” Jay glanced at him. “Yeah. You’re not wearin’ your posh little jeans ‘ere.” Ben swallowed, then nodded. The fabric was rough, slightly damp. The waistband sagged low on his hips. Jay just grinned. “Looks better on you already.”

They didn’t talk much that time. They didn’t have to. Jay pressed Ben’s face into his armpit at one point, laughing when he moaned. The smell was stronger now thick, heavy, and intoxicating. Ben left in the trackies.

The third meetup changed everything.

Ben arrived in a hoodie and jeans, but Jay took one look and shook his head. “Nah. Strip. Wear this.” This time it was a full outfit, trackies, hoodie, cap, even socks and a knockoff gold chain. “Go on,” Jay said, voice low and calm. “Just for fun.” Ben didn’t argue. He changed. Jay made him sit down in front of the TV. A video loop started. Loud grime music, flashing words: Obey. Submit. Scally. Chav. Dumb. At first, Ben chuckled, thinking it was some joke. Jay sat behind him, pressed his sneakers into Ben’s lap, and leaned in close.

“Relax, mate. Just breathe it in.”

The scent hit Ben hard. Weed, sweat, old cologne, and something deeper. Masculine. Animal. It crawled into his brain, melted his thoughts. Jay kept whispering things. “You like wearin’ that gear now, don’t ya?” Ben nodded, not even thinking. His heart was racing. His cock was hard. His thoughts were gone.

From that night on, the changes stuck.

Ben stopped changing back into his usual clothes. The trackies felt better. His reflection looked more natural. The sharp cheekbones softened. His skin tanned slightly. He stopped trimming his brows. A faint patch of facial hair began to form, scruffy, unkempt, chavvy. Jay noticed. “Gettin’ rough round the edges, yeah?” he grinned. “Good. Gotta look the part.”

Jay gave him a cap and told him to wear it everywhere. “Helps the mindset.” And it did. Every time Ben put it on, he felt himself slouch more, talk slower. His voice began to shift, the poshness replaced by a lazy, thicker accent. His workouts stopped being about leanness. Jay had him do bodyweight stuff, bulk up his arms. “Scally lads don’t skip chest day, bruv.” Ben's body responded fast. Shoulders broadened. Abs thickened. His ass filled out the trackies. His face grew plainer, but in a way that felt right. More real. More local. Jay’s scent still triggered him every time. A whiff of it made his dick twitch and his head fog over. It was a shortcut. The key that unlocked whatever Jay had started in his mind.

Soon, he stopped being Ben.

Jay started calling him Kyle. “Ben’s dead, mate. You’re Kyle now. Me dumb chav pup.” Kyle nodded, grinning. He’d started wearing Air Max 95s everywhere—Jay’s old pair, still warm from his feet. They stank. Kyle loved it. He sniffed them when he was alone. Sometimes he wore them to bed.

He stopped going to uni. Said it was “long” and “waste of time.” He told his tutor to piss off. He didn’t even remember why he cared about grades. He started showing up to Jay’s flat early, sometimes just to sit in his gear and smoke. Jay let him. Sometimes he made Kyle worship his socks while they played FIFA. Kyle would nuzzle up against his master’s foot, eyes half-lidded, stoned and hard.

Jay started making him repeat things. “Say it. Out loud.”

“I’m a dumb scallyboy.”

“I live for me Master’s sneakers.”

“I don’t need brains, just gear and your scent.”

The more he said it, the truer it became.

By summer, there was no sign of Ben. Kyle was unshaven, thick-accented, unemployed, dumb and happy. He wore the same trackies for days. His room smelled like weed, sweat, and his master’s trainers. He didn’t read books anymore. He didn’t need to. Jay had filled his head with something better. Simplicity. Pleasure. Obedience.

One evening, Jay came home to find Kyle shirtless on the couch, playing FIFA with one hand and sniffing his Air Max with the other, a mindless grin on his face.

Jay smirked and sat beside him. “You happy like this, bruv?”

Kyle didn’t even look up. Just nodded, eyes glazed.

“Yeah, bruv. Don’t wanna be no one else. Love bein’ your dumb chav pup.”

Jay put a hand on his thigh, leaned in close.

yo like uhhh listen up all u pathetic lil brainlet nerdz sittin in ur mommy basment scrollin tumblr like sum sad virgin loser thinkin ur sooo smort n deep n shit LMAOOOOO this aint for u weak ass keyboard warriors but i KNOW u gonna read every single word n ur tiny peanut brain gonna be hurtin so bad tryna keep up uhhh like u probly soundin out the words slow as fuuuck n still missin half em HAHAHA get rekt

bein a DUMB JOCK aint no fuckin KINK broooo its a whole ass LIFESTYLE u get me or do i gotta spell it out for ur slow ass?? uhhh u cant just throw on sum tight compression shorts for like ten minutes while u beat ur lil meat to jock porn n then go bak to bein a scrawny overthinkin nerd. NAH MAN this shit 24/7 365 no days off no brakes BRO. i wake up pumped AF smashin the gym every mornin my bros high fivin me n flexin in the mirror watchin my pecs bounce like YOOO these gains hittin different

u probly sittin there right now like “b-but i roleplay as a dumb jock n its so hawt” SHUT THE FUUUCK UP U POSER u aint foolin NOBODY u just a lil calculator boy who cant even add 2 plus 2 without ur phone helpin u like a baby lmaooo. real dumb jocks like ME we LIVE this shit we dont pretend. i skipped class AGAIN today uhhh who needs dat dumb book learnin when coach waitin for me to deadlift twice my bodyweight n the cheer hoes watchin my fat ass in these tiny shorts?? my GPA like a 1.2 but my bench 315 n my abs look like a washbord uhh u even know wut a washbord is or u googlin it like the retard u are??

like dont get it twisted i AINT mad about bein DUMB its the BEST part BROOO. my brain got zero room for all dat thinkin n worryin n future bullshit uhhh i just smash sets chug protein shakes n high five my bros after we CRUSH the other team. u ever tried not thinkin for a whole day?? nah u couldnt last 5 minutes ur lil anxiety would explode cuz u too busy cryin about bills n college n all dat gay shit. me?? i just worry if my shake got enuf peanut butter n if my bros wanna hit the bars later like REAL problems u know??

n yeah we party HARD every weekend straight up black out off cheap beer wake up in sum random chick bed with my bros laughin at how fucked up i was but guess wut?? i dont give ONE single fuck cuz tomorow just another day to LIFT n look better than all u scrawny internet trolls put together uhhh like u even touched a barbell or u still scared the big guys gonna laugh at ur twig arms?? newsflash they ARE laughin at how pathetic u look tryin to act like one of us u lil tryhard

so next time u see some hot jock walkin by flexin n grinnin like a idiot u better bow down n admit ur just a weak lil smart boy who wishes he could be this retarded n free. uhhh like stop pretendin u smart n deep n shit just embrace it bro turn ur brain off n join the gains train or keep bein a sad ass loser forever LMAO get on my level or stay mad uhhh

yo like uh hey bros n uh all u normie dudes still stuck in ur smart lil heads out there whats good haha 💪😵‍💫

u wanna start gettin retardid like me here’s exactly what u gotta do evry single day no excuses 24/7 365 like i said before this aint a kink its a whole lifestyle bruh

first get rid of all the smart crap that feeds ur head info. delete every news app, unfollow all politics n science n whatever normie shit u follow. no more podcasts, no youtube vids that teach u stuff, no readin articles. like poof gone.

then fix ur algorithm right now. only follow dumb jock stuff: gym bros liftin, bodybuildin tips, football highlights, hot guys n girls flexin n partyin, whatever ur into. scroll instagram n tiktok for hours till ur feed is nothin but gains, asses, abs n hype music. that’s it.

while ur in the middle of doin ANYTHING pull ur phone out n scroll. like cookin? scroll. studyin? scroll. takin a shit? scroll. waitin in line? scroll. u gotta train ur brain to never focus for more than 10 seconds.

every time u feel a smart thought comin just open tiktok n let it melt away. do this nonstop n ur attention span will be completely destroyed in like a week. head empty, no thoughts, just vibes n gains n horny shit.

blast dumb jock hypnoes or goon audios in ur ears when u can. even during gym time.

edge for hours to porn instead of quick nuttin

play super simple phone games n just tap mindlessly for hours

repeat dumb mantras out loud like “head empty muscles big” when a smart thought pops up

only talk in short bro sentences n use tons of uhh n like n never read anything longer than a caption

Caleb reluctantly took the keys from the brute of a man at the rental shop who grunted something about the Challenger being the "perfect car for a man like him" and promised he’d be comfortable with it in no time. Looking at the aggressive lines of the car, he knew the overpowered vehicle was definitely NOT the car for him. Caleb just sighed. He was going to be stuck with this obnoxious, gas-guzzling monstrosity until his sensible hybrid was repaired.

Episode 1 : The T-Shirt

The new t-shirt you bought felt weird, some parts of it were wet. Like the underarm region and chest region. You just thought you'd have to wash it, but it wasn't that simple. You had company that day so you had to greet the guest. You let them inside, you all stood there at the door talking to each other, getting to know each other more. Your wife had just brought them over to hang out. She was at the store buying food for everyone, she wouldn't be back for another 2 hours or so. So you had to entertain the guest until she got back.

The whole time the new shirt was bothering you. While sitting the guest you got a rapid itching sensation in your nipple, you shrug the itch off and continue. Once you head to the kitchen to grab some drinks, you feel the shirt get tighter and more damp. You lift your underarms and get a wave of musk to your nostrils. You groan at the smell, you tell the guest that your going to the bathroom and you'll be back soon.

Once you start heading up the stairs, you can feel your pecs bouncing on every step. They feel heavier than usual, and you don't normally work out so how would they have enough meat to bounce? You shrug it off once again. Once you get to the bathroom, you notice your face slightly changing. Your beard is slightly fading and your hair is growing on your head faster than usual. Instead of the straight hair you used to have, you now have this curly wet hair. Where did this come from? You try to find a scientific reasoning for it.

But there are none ,

You look down at your arms in the mirror, they look even bigger than usual. Your biceps grow huge when you flex, just like a body builder. You never had muscle like this but it sure felt good to flex them. Your shirt felt even more moist now, it clung to your chest and abs. Almost like it was imbedded on you now. You feel a sharp heating sensation on your pecs, they stretch and expand on your shirt. It feels like they're going to break the shirt with how big they're getting. You press your palms on your pecs and feel how soft they are and you mind is completely melted by them.

More sensation can be felt, it feels like something's drawling on your chest. You look in the mirror with your eyes half way open, you see tattoos appear through the shirt. You can see almost your whole body, the shirt is stretched out and wet. You smell your musk throughout the whole bathroom now. Your pecs were huge!

Never have you had them before, you just watched them grow. Something starts to whisper in your ear,

"Grow, that's all you know. Seed, bread them. Men, that's all you like"

That sensation of a sentence kept repeating over and over in your head. You kept denying it over and over, but something in your head was forcing you to listen. You wanted to obey and didnt want to. "Stop resisting" the voice said. "No! I'm . . .Phillip, and . I-im, not . . .gay?" But something inside you disagreed, you could feel every thought slip away. "No, s-stop, i-m. . . I'm , not . . . GAY" You sucumb to the corruption that the shirt has put on you.

"You are Daniel, and you're a dumb himbo and you're going to spread your seed to every man you see, transform them into real men. Like you, and that wife of yours. That's a weakness, men are for you to conquer, show them your seed, spread it." The voice got louder than usual, but you couldn't think about anything else other than to spread the seed and to get BIGGER. You notice more tattoos pop up everywhere around your body, they cover your neck. Making your voice all deep and raspy. But you were a himbo so it just made your even sexier. It had your ears pierced and ear rings pop up. You looks so gay. All the men must want this seed, you thought to yourself. Your biceps grew a sleeve of tattoos on them that made them even bigger than before. You flex all parts of your body and get waves of sensation. Your hair was so wet and curly, so sexy . . . You loved it . . .

You step out of that musky bathroom, surely anyone to step in there would get transformed. You left a remnant of your dominance and seed in there, and you wanted to see them get transformed by it. You walk down the stairs and get glares from the guest, you ignore them and head over to the private gym you have in your mansion.

You were ready to work out, your shirt was dying for a workout sesh, maybe you'd get bigger, musty, sweaty. All these things made a dumb smile appear on your face. Your body was brand new. Your nipples were really sensitive and even touching them made you moan. You wanted bigger pecs, those tattoos were just so sexy on them. You could choke anyone with your arms. You were a walking himbo. Ready to transform the next "Bro" he saw. Now, Workout those muscles . . .

he went to the Stepford Gym to get a quick pump. every guy in their was slicked solid and super muscular. he started working out but the music made him woozy. two men approached him.

“hey champ. it’s time to give in to slicked bliss.”

he immediately grew heavier and hornier. “It’s time I slicked blissssss.”

“excellent champ. now look at the TV. this won’t take long.” the men approached him, pulling off his gym clothes as he began to get hard in his briefs. one pulled out of tub of pomade with a giant spiral on the top of it.

“look at the spiral here, champ. looks like the spiral on the television yeah.”

“y-yeah.” he got harder.

“look back at the screen, champ.” they took a big scoop of pomade and began massaging it through his hair. “every time you see the spiral you need to slick you hair.”

“every time I see the spiral I slick my hair.” with a comb he slicked it back into a mirror like shine.

“being slicked keeps you happy and horny and hypnotized.” he got even harder.

“h-happy. horny. h-h-hypnotized.” one of the men kneeled in front of him, pulling off his briefs as his cock sprung free. putting it in his mouth, he looked down at him.

“look into his eyes. he’s happy, horny and hypnotized.” the pace of the blowjob got faster as the music and spiral on the TV did as well. he felt his hair harden from the pomade and it made him hornier.

“you will obey Stepford. you will be happy, horny, and hypnotized for Stepford,” the man kept repeating in his ear. “now cum.”

as he came, his old world disappeared. with a huge smile and hair slicked and shiny, he was Stepfords newest resident.

“How do you feel, champ?” he couldn’t stop smiling.

“So happy, sir”

You'd think a twink like him would wanna be dragged by a twunk like me, I was just gonna make him better! Bigger! Stronger! And an added bonus of sensation! But he needed to be gagged, forever

I kept dragging that little twink all the way down to the elevator. It finally opened after a while. All that twink spit was all over my hand, now it was all warm and slabery. He tried to dash out of the elevator when we got to the parking garage but he wasn't fast enough.

I grabbed him, put him in a choke hold this time. Knocked him clean out. His little twink body sitting on the dirty floor taking up space. It was going to take up even more now.

I go to the storage closet and instantly see that little bickers helmet that was full of musk from all those fags that put there pits in it. I wanted to try it so bad, but there was a twink in that parking garage that definitely needed an upgrade more than me.

The helmet was heavy so the hardest part was getting it all the way over to the garage. The helmet was so musky I thought it might transform me before I got there. But I only showed stage 1 of that musk virus thing . . .

Finally I sat the heavy biker helmet next to the twink. He finally started opening his eyes, and right next to him was the object that would change his life forever. He jolted when he felt the smell. But don't worry, I was there to help him. I grabbed him by his hair and he started moaning and growling at the tug I gave his scalp, but it was for a good cause. I dropped that sweaty helmet right on the twinks head. He resisted so much I thought he might overpower me. His arms squirm around as you hear his suffocating moans coming from inside the helmet. The moaning got loader and loaded, then the resistance died down and the moaning got quiet. The moans became groans, the voice heard inside the helmet was deeper. All of a sudden a growth spurt starts to acquire INFRONT of my eyes. That twinks pecs were bigger than my bed pillows. His abs tower over my puny pecs. His biceps could choke anyone easily. He was a hulking himbo. He didn't even know how to talk that's how dumb he was. Just moaned and grounded as he walked carelessly around the parking garage. His footsteps were so heavy. Every step his pecs giggled. Up and down, you could see the sweat flying from them. He the. Found his bike, and all hey knew what to do was drive. Drive away my little masked mam

And even before leaving, he had to feel his new body, even with how dumb he was. He knew he was a god

Feel the spiral himbo gloss melt away that IQ