And here’s the third February(!) story written for yuan99! If you want to see some of his writing and artwork, search his name over at DeviantArt. If you want your own personalized and private stories written by me, then consider becoming my Patron!

It wasn’t a spam call but a spam text, which Bryson knew was much rarer. The message itself was also much more ominous than he was expecting. “For the next week, you will be unable to resist any and all commands spoken to you, no matter how frivolous they are.” The texter then sent a FAQ page of all things, explaining to Bryson that if someone commanded him to gain muscle, for example, his body would be forced to obey and the muscles would grow. It was later clarified that commands like these did not happen instantaneously, but they did happen fast. He tried texting back to see if this was a wrong number or some kind of joke, but all of his texts didn’t go through.

He brushed it off at first, not believing a simple text had the power to curse him. And besides, he didn’t hit the gym, he hated going out in public in general, and most of the people he talked to were online, so the curse wouldn’t activate anyways. About an hour or so later, Bryson’s mom called, and so he naturally answered the phone. Only it wasn’t his mom. “Stay shirtless at home,” said one of those robotic voices fed through some type of machine. They hung up immediately after saying that, and Bryson wondered who would go through all the trouble to spoof his mom’s phone number.

However, he had other things to worry about as he found himself taking off his shirt. “Hey, what’s going on!?” he said to himself, as he was seemingly unable to stop himself from taking off his shirt. Try as he might, he was soon shirtless at home, and he couldn’t put the shirt back on either. He could hold them in his hand, but some kind of weird force was preventing him from actually putting it on. “What the heck is going on here?” Bryson asked himself. The research he did led him nowhere, and his online friends were no help either.

Thankfully, for the next few days, Bryson was able to stay home and avoid speaking to anyone in-person. However, he was taking hybrid courses, which meant he had to go to the classroom on Friday to take a test, the day the curse was set to wear off. He tried to scurry across campus as fast as he could, hoodie on and head down. However, some people on campus who Bryson barely recognized apparently knew about his curse.

“I command you to no longer be ashamed about your body,” said one of his female classmates, which Bryson actually found to be a bit nice. He had always felt shame over how his body looked, as he had been much skinnier than most of his peers. But now he felt comfortable in his body, and thankfully he was allowed to put on a shirt after stepping out of his house. The next command, though, wasn’t one that Bryson enjoyed too much.

“I command you to have blonder hair,” said one of the jocks on campus who had barely paid Bryson any attention the past four years. He took out his phone camera and watched as his brown hair got infused with some blonde highlights. It was a bit weird that someone just commanding that caused it to happen, and Bryson picked up the speed, trying to get to class before some more dramatic changes took place.

“I command you to be much more gregarious,” said one of Bryson’s fellow nerds, someone who knew how to use that word correctly. Bryson swore under his breath as he felt the changes taking place. His neck was forced into the upward position and a smile was plastered all over his face now. He waved at most of his fellow students, but thankfully, this command didn’t cause him to automatically make a whole bunch of new friends on campus, so he could still rush to the classroom.

“Hey, Bry, I command you to wear some better clothing, brah!” Unfortunately for Bryson, since that command came from another jock on campus, Bryson’s clothes changed to reflect the jock’s views of “better.” It included a backwards baseball cap and a t-shirt instead of the button-down he had been wearing. Bryson’s khakis also changed into basketball shorts, and he felt his boxers change into a jockstrap as well. Even his shoes and socks changed, his dress socks and Sperrys becoming white ankle socks and Vans. He had thankfully reached the building his class was in now, but even before he got to the room, he fell victim to another command.

“I command you to look like a jock,” said another one of his female classmates. Bryson was definitely freaking out now, as with every step he took, his muscles continued to grow and grow. By the time he had reached the classroom, he looked like a stereotypical jock on campus. He had nice squishy pecs that admittedly didn’t protrude from his chest that much. His arms were also a bit less muscular than some other jocks, although his bicep peaks were lemon-sized now and definitely much bigger than they were before. He had a six-pack of abs, although not as chiseled as some of the other jocks’ were. His legs got a bit more toned as well, and his ass was no longer as flat as it used to be.

Everybody noticed Bryson’s change into a jock, but thankfully for him, he heard no commands while taking the test. He had studied quite a bit for this test, but he was so nervous and freaking out over the fact that someone could just command something of him at any time and it would be forced to happen that he didn’t do as well on the test as he knew he could have, forgetting things he knew he had studied and messing some things up too. Thankfully, his teacher didn’t grade them immediately after he handed them in, and he rushed out of the room, not wanting to hear any commands for the rest of the day.

The curse was set to wear off in a few hours, if it actually was a week that he had been cursed by the weird text. He had actually made it inside of his dorm when a group of students walked by. Bryson, and the rest of the students on campus, knew them as the himbos, the male bimbos, and unfortunately for Bryson, they had some commands for him. “I command you to be a dumb himbo slut, teeheehee!”

“Yeah, like, I command you to love working out and, like, getting swole, brah, eheheh!”

“I command you to, like, love having sex with other guys, especially, like, guys like us, eheheh!”

“I command you to, like, not worry about school and, like, only focus on working out and having sex, brah, eheheh!”

“Yeah, and, like, I command you to be, like, shirtless whenever possible, teeheehee!” Bryson then took his shirt off again mindlessly, but this time he was doing it with a smile on his face as the many aspects of becoming a himbo were becoming a part of his personality now. He was freaking out at the very beginning as his intelligence was being drained out of him and he gained some new hobbies and interests a bit forcefully. However, he soon had a dumb and goofy grin on his face as he realized just how much he loved working out and having sex with guys, especially guys like the hot group standing in front of him.

“Like, OMG, brahs, can I, like, join you guys at the club, eheheh?”

“Like, yeah, sure things, brah!” they all said, as Bryson began living his new life as a himbo. Instead of being found in the classroom, he could be found in the gym or in the bedroom. He never did find out that it was one of his academic rivals who had set up this entire thing, using his technology skills, his large bank account, and his great-grandmother’s book of curses to make sure that he had no competition and would be valedictorian when the time came.

And here’s the second February story written for yuan99! If you want to read his own stories and see his artwork, search his name over at DeviantArt. If you want your own personalized and private stories written by me, then consider becoming my Patron!

“It’s a family vacation, Logan, you’re coming with us,” his father said. Logan honestly didn’t mind spending time with his family; it was more the location for the family vacation than anything else. They were going to the beach, staying in a rented house with terrible WiFi, so Logan would be forced to go to the beach instead of playing computer games all day or chatting with his virtual friends. Logan was painfully shy when it came to in-person communication for those outside of his family.

He found himself being almost literally dragged to the beach on the first day they were there. After his parents set up a place to sit and relax and his younger siblings ran off and played, Logan made his way over to the beach bar. Despite being called a “bar,” it still served those younger than 21, such as Logan, a 19-year-old who did look a bit younger than that. He just sulked at the bar, thankful for the shade since he was wearing a long-sleeve shirt and a baggy swimsuit that covered up as much as he could.

Since it was a slow day, the bartenders didn’t mind Logan taking up one of the seats at the bar. About an hour or so after he had first sat down, an older muscled man sat next to him. He could have easily been Logan’s dad, and Logan had to admit, the man was definitely hot, if not the type of guy he had been thinking about dating. “Like, hey, brah, what’s the matter, eheheh?”

“My parents dragged me along to this stupid beach vacation with some stupid house that doesn’t have stupid WiFi, so I’m stuck here at some stupid bar until the rest of my family is done with a stupid day on the stupid beach!”

“OMG, like, wow, brah, that must really suck! Do you want me to, like, leave you alone, brah, or would you like to, like, talk, eheheh?”

“Uh, I guess we can talk,” Logan responded. Despite the man sounding like an insufferable himbo, Logan did realize that it was easy to talk to him for some reason.

“So, brah, did you, like, order anything from the bar yet, eheheh?”

“Well, I’m only 19, so no.”

“Hey, Luis, can you, like, get my friend here a soda, eheheh! I’ll, like, pay for his drinks!” The man winked at Luis the bartender, which Logan didn’t notice. By the time the soda came, the himbo had introduced himself as Cam, after a little bit of prompting by Logan. “Like, brah, you hafta try the soda, eheheh! It’ll, like, definitely cheer you up, brah!”

“Um, okay,” Logan replied, not exactly sure how it would cheer him up. However, even in the shade it was still scorching hot out, and so he was happy for the drink. What he didn’t know was that his soda was actually laced with himbo powder. Cam and Luis had turned a few men into himbos already this summer, but very rarely did they get such a big transformation, as was going to happen with Logan. Their conversation continued as Logan took a sip from his soda every few seconds. Soon enough, he was getting another one, and it was getting easier and easier to talk with Cam.

Logan was definitely feeling happier, although he didn’t chalk that up to the drink or the fact that a hot guy was talking to him for quite some time, albeit one who could barely talk correctly in the first place. He also failed to notice that he was sometimes struggling to come up with words now or think about some of his past experiences. He had figured Luis had probably infused his drink with some kind of alcohol, the nerd not even knowing about the existence of himbo powder. It was towards the end of his second drink when he finally realized something was wrong. “Like, where’s my shirt?” he asked Cam and Luis.

“Like, are you sure you had one on, brah?” Cam asked.

“Yes I’m sure!” Logan replied, a bit irritated. He looked on the ground around him and around the bar, in case the wind had taken off after he had seemingly taken it off, and Luis even looked on his side of the bar. His shirt was nowhere to be found. Both of the men knew that it had simply vanished, a weird side effect of the himbo powder that neither man was smart enough to explain. Logan was now freaking out. “I think I should, like, leave guys, and hang out with my family like I really should, eheheh!”

As he got up and started to walk away, he felt a forceful grip on his shoulder as Cam helped to turn him around. “I’m not done with you yet, brah” he gruffly replied, bringing Logan back over to his seat as Luis topped him off again with some more himbo powder-infused soda. “Like, drink the damn soda, Logan,” he ordered. Of course, Logan didn’t do so, even more freaked out than he had been before. However, despite being slightly dumbed down by now, the muscle growth part of the himbo powder hadn’t taken effect yet, and so as much as Logan squirmed and wiggled, there was no escaping the strong grip of the himbo.

Luis also reached across the bar and pinched Logan’s nose until he was forced to open his mouth to breathe. Some of the soda was then forced down his throat, and it was a difficult process at first. However, with each drop of the himbo powder inside of his system, he started to gain a little more muscle. His arms were no longer stick-thin but slowly plumping up, and the same thing was happening to his legs, especially his thighs and hamstrings. He was starting to get pecs that jutted out from his body by a little bit, and a faint outline of a six-pack of abs. It was definitely harder for Cam to keep him in place as he gained more and more muscle.

However, along with the muscle growth and additional dumbing down, every drop also made him want to turn into a himbo even more. By around the third round of being forced to swallow some of the soda, Logan was getting too big for Cam to realistically hold while Luis held his nose and forced the soda down his throat. But when he let go, the himbo-to-be didn’t run away. In fact, he sat down and started to sip on the soda of his accord, much to the relief of the two men. No one around the bar noticed this happening thanks to a side effect of himbo powder dust floating around in the air.

By the time Logan had finished this glass of soda, his transformation was complete. His arms were now the size of melons and a tattoo had even appeared on his right shoulder. His legs were just as massive, causing the swimsuit he was wearing to get even more taut, having already shrank a fair bit from the one he was wearing when he first sat down at the bar. He now had a plainly visible pec shelf on both the top and bottom of his juicy rounded pecs, and while his abs were still faint and not really delineated, people like Cam weren’t always concerned about that. They were more focused on his hair, for example, which was now cut much shorter and had turned blonde.

Naturally, Logan had been dumbed down to about the same level Cam was at now, and he was also as horny as Cam and most other himbos were. However, Logan was a bit different, as in addition to being a himbo, he also considered himself a trophy boy. The Venn diagram of himbos and trophy boys was almost a circle, but regardless, Logan knew that he had to please his daddy himbo now. “OMG, like, Daddy, that soda tasted, like, so good, eheheh! Can I, like, have another!”

“I think, like, that’s enough for you, Logan, eheheh,” Cam replied. “I, like, need to teach some more stuff so, like, you can be the best trophy boy himbo that you can, like, be, eheheh!” The two himbos made their way off the beach shortly and to Cam’s place, where Logan learned his new workout schedule and what Cam expected of him when he brought other himbos and guests around. Logan was also excited to transform other guys into himbos and trophy boys for men other than Daddy! Logan’s parents actually went to the bar to check up on him, but a special drink served by Luis would make them forget all about their son, and the effect would spread to people that they knew. After all, Logan was living his best life now, happily serving as a himbo trophy boy to his hot and hunky daddy himbo, Cam.  

And here we have the first February story written for yuan99! If you want to read his stories and see his artwork, search him up over at DeviantArt. If you want your own personalized and private stories written by me, then consider becoming my Patron!

Evan’s senior year mostly consisted of his capstone project, which was creating nanites that could swarm over an object and change it to anything you could think of. There was no denying that someone like Evan could do this, a certified genius. It would require a lot of time, though, especially to get it perfect before the end of the spring semester, which also wasn’t a problem for Evan. He was painfully shy and even struggled to talk with teachers at times, but he knew what he was doing and wanted to excel.

A month or so before he was set to present the nanites, there was a slight accident. Evan had originally come up with the idea for the nanites in the first place so that he could transform his bullies into weaklings. Of course, that required that the nanites be able to change skin, muscle, bone and the human body in general. Evan had just wanted to take one nanite out, one, and see if it would transform a tiny little piece of his body. Unfortunately for him, he spilled a bit too many out of the container and onto his body.

He cleaned them up immediately after the accident, but of course, there were too many nanites for him to count, and the program he had created to see where they were said that they were all in the lab. He had to work on pinpointing their location, which meant that he didn’t know that some of the nanites remained on his body and blended in with his skin, staying there even after he showered or shaved or did something that might have removed the nanites later that day. Evan didn’t think anything was amiss until a few days later.

When working on the nanites in the lab, Evan suddenly realized something. He hadn’t been out of breath at all these past few days. He had pretty severe asthma, so having no attacks for this long was quite a rarity. His skin seemed to be glowing as well and was free from most of the acne that had plagued him for years. Overall, Evan appeared to be more healthier than he had been before the nanites landed on him. Despite him being a genius, he didn’t stop to think that the nanites were doing that.

However, Evan definitely did notice something was wrong when he looked in his closet on Saturday. He had forced himself to have a day off, but at least wanted to get dressed instead of lounging in his pajamas. That option was looking better and better, though, as something had happened to his clothes overnight. All of his dress shirts and polos had changed to stringer tees and compression shirts, and his khakis were now athletic shorts or gray sweatpants. No one had entered his room but him, according to the sensors he had set up, so it couldn’t have been his bullies.

Then it hit Evan right in the head. Changing fabric material was one of the first changes Evan had programmed into the nanites. He had seen a new task on the program list, but Evan had originally thought it was just a leftover from testing. When he actually looked into it, though, he was shocked. He apparently hadn’t cleaned up all of the nanites from the accident earlier that week, and they had replicated in his room and taken on a mind of their own. That would have been incredibly fascinating, if it wasn’t for the fact that their analysis concluded that Evan wanted to be a dumb sexy jock for some reason. Evan tried to abort this group of nanites and reverse their changes, but since they had achieved some form of artificial intelligence, there was nothing Evan could do for this group of nanites, and he feared that if he used other nanites to reverse the changes, then they could become infected too.

He spent the rest of the day at the lab, not working on his presentation but trying to figure out how to solve this problem. It was almost midnight by the time he realized he needed to go to sleep. He made his way back to his dorm room and turned the light on. Thankfully, he had a single and lived next to heavy sleepers, so he didn’t wake anyone up. He probably would have if he had yelled upon seeing what his room had become. Pictures of bodybuilders and male movie stars now plastered the walls instead of the periodic table and pictures of scientists. His books were replaced with porn DVDs, and the room itself reeked of musk and cum.

This was probably due in part to how messy the room had become since Evan had left this morning. His clothes were now scattered all over the floor, and in addition to the shirt and pant changes, his underwear had been transformed into jockstraps and thongs, most of them with cum stains on them. His white socks thankfully didn’t change much, but they were now used as cum rags and tossed all over the room, and there was no sign of his dress socks. Evan surprisingly fell asleep quickly, despite the stench that permeated the room.

He was back in the lab bright and early the next morning, making little progress on how to fix the nanites that were changing his life. Ironically, he was making progress in getting fitter he learned, as when he looked in the mirror before showering that night, he had a faint outline of abs and his pecs were no longer flat on his chest. “No, I don’t want to be a jock!” Evan cried out and made sure to scrub as hard as he could. However, that didn’t work, and he was slowly getting bigger and bigger throughout the week.

His arms slowly increased in size, going from thin and lanky to having melon-sized biceps by the end of the week. His pecs underwent a similar transformation, getting bigger and bigger throughout the week and a bit firmer as well. By the end of the week, they had jutted out from his chest a fair bit and were rounded yet hard. That ab outline had slowly progressed to a six-pack. While it wasn’t as chiseled as some of the other jocks around campus, there was no mistaking that Evan looked like a jock, especially when factoring in his shredded obliques. His ass had also blown up over the course of the week and had gotten juicier, and his legs had gotten much more massive as well.

Despite the dramatic changes to his appearance, Evan wouldn’t have minded turning into a sexy jock, as the nanite programming called it, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was being dumbed down as well. Much like the muscle growth, it was a gradual progress. He soon began to forget formulas he had memorized and how to operate some of the complicated programs on his computer. He thought more and more about working out and having sex with hot guys than working on the nanites or even his capstone presentation.

Wednesday was quite interesting, as Evan was still panicked over his muscle growth and dumbing down, but he had progressed far enough into being a dumb sexy jock that he had passed the point of no return. Instead of trying to stop them and reverse the effects, Evan used the last few hours that he was smart enough to do so to program some end goals into the nanites. He didn’t want to become some brain-dead hulking muscle monster, but these goals would keep him as a dumb sexy jock. By Thursday morning, he was no longer panicked about the nanites, and was actually quite blissful, as he was turning into a himbo with practically no effort on his part.

By Friday evening, the nanites had reached their end goals and successfully turned off. The old Evan would have been proud, but the new Evan wasn’t concerned with that. He was going to hit the club later that night with his friends, wearing a shirt that showed off his impressive pecs and shorts that had his nice juicy bubble butt on display. He had no cares in the world, partying, working out, and having sex for the rest of the semester. He ultimately didn’t graduate, but he was able to support himself by stripping at a local club and opening up a highly successful OnlyFans account. The university took over his nanite program and they proved to be highly successful. Only a few staff members knew who had actually created them and what he was doing now.

And here is the short yet steamy third January story written for Val! If you want your own personalized and private stories, then consider becoming a Patron!

Val hoped the workers at the apothecary weren’t lying to him. In addition to some forms of holistic medicine, they also dabbled in the more sexual side of potions and magic. Val had just received a bonus at work, and he wanted to spend it on a solution he had been eyeing for quite some time. It was somewhat of a peculiar mixture, as it would give him some more muscles, including his cock, make him extremely horny, and give him a strong musk. Unfortunately, this spell wasn’t permanent, but he would still have a lot of fun with it, regardless. He paid for the potion and only had a small amount of his bonus left over as he went back home.

Once he got back home, he went into the bedroom and set up his phone so that it could record the whole scene. Val normally wasn’t into this type of stuff, but he knew a lot of people would be, especially with the muscle growth component. The camera was soon filming and Val uncorked the vial. He chugged it, and the changes happened within seconds. His clothes burst apart at the seams and fell to the ground in tatters as everything from his neck all the way down to his ankles gained some muscle. His cock and balls, of course, grew to match, and it wasn’t even half a second later that Val stood in his room stark naked, with only a few pieces of his clothes still hanging from his body.

At the same time that he was starting to get much more turned on than he normally did, his musk was getting much more potent. He began sniffing the air, which only made his erect dick throb even more. Of course, he couldn’t help himself, and laid back on his bed, one hand on his dick and the other exposing an armpit. He took deep breaths as he furiously stroked his cock, blowing his load just over a minute later. While the potion didn’t get rid of his refractory period, it made sure that his next cumshot and the ones after that would be just as potent as the first.

Val continued to sniff his pits, changing which one he was inhaling with every cumshot, and not even bothering to clean up after he came, his bedsheets getting coated in cum, not to mention his pecs and abs as well. The room slowly started to reek of sex as well, the mixture of cum, musk, and sweat turning Val on even more. It was also starting to get a bit messy around the eleventh cumshot or so, so he began eating his cum too, moaning just as loudly afterwards as he did when it was coming out.

However, all good things must come to an end, and eventually, the effects of the potion wore off. Val shrank in the matter of seconds and his libido and musk were dramatically reduced as well. All of the cum still remained, though, and the room still reeked, albeit a bit less strongly now. He went over and stopped the video and made sure it was saved to the cloud. He then cleaned up his room first before uploading it to Pornhub and a couple other sites. For the next week, that was the only video the various gay communities online would talk about, and you could be certain that every man into guys saved the video to their phone as well.

Mike Thurston, the Muscle Bull

And here is the fourth February(!) story written for the semi-famous patron! If you want your own personalized and private stories, then consider becoming my Patron!

There was no denying that Mike Thurston was top dog at the gym he worked out at. Besides the gym giving him special access to all facilities for free thanks to all the promotion, he had an alpha air around him that told people that he was not to be messed with. Unfortunately, this went to Mike’s head, and while his cocky personality didn’t change, he knew that he could afford to get away with more and more shit at the gym. “You’re such a fuckin’ pansy,” he commonly told male gym goers when they picked up the lighter free weights from the lower racks. “My grandmother could bench press more than you, nerd,” whenever someone didn’t put any weights on the bench press bar, and so on. 

And Mike wasn’t just demeaning to the weak people in his gym. It was no secret that he hated gay people, especially those Instagram sluts who loved to show off their bodies. While a strong case could be made that Mike was just another one of those guys as well, there was no denying that the f-slur was dropped at least once a day, and usually more. Mike used his privilege at the gym so that no one else was in the locker room, shower, or sauna at the same time at him, as he didn’t want to give any gay guys the pleasure of seeing his nude body. And while he mostly kept these complaints to himself, some of his friends knew how much he hated women and those with disabilities working out at his gym too. 

One of those friends was Jimmy. Despite being straight and a bodybuilder himself, he wasn’t as “alpha” as Mike and the other guys in his friend group were. Even he didn’t mind a little bit of gay bashing, but when Mike started talking about those other groups, he knew that he had to do something. No one ever disagreed with Mike, even though his friend group could easily take him in a fair fight. However, it would probably be the whole friend group against Jimmy if he decided to speak up, so he looked for different options. Surprisingly, there were a whole lot of different options for humiliation and revenge once he got on the dark web. 

Funnily enough, he found exactly what he was looking for through an ad. This company, Muscle Bulls, was looking for models/employees. They had to be insanely muscular, even bigger than someone like Nick Walker, and they had to be dumber than a bag of rocks. While they of course accepted applicants who did fit their criteria, they got most of their models through a curse that they supplied, for an additional cost. Jimmy knew just how fuckin’ humiliating it would be for Mike, and so he bought it. 

The curse was thankfully in English and all Jimmy needed to do was read it while holding something of Mike’s. It could be something as simple as his water bottle with some of his hand sweat on it. Mike admittedly did look at Jimmy weird as he was muttering something to himself while grabbing Mike’s drink. He brushed it off when he got some liquid down his throat and went back to working out. Jimmy then explained to the guys that he needed to take it easy today, doctor’s orders, and would do some light cardio on the treadmills, giving him an excellent vantage point of the whole gym. 

As he had hoped, it was only minutes after he turned the treadmill on that he heard Mike demeaning another gym goer. “That’s not how you fuckin’ use the machine! Are you a fuckin-” Mike did say something after that, the r-slur. He got a bit more looks from the other people working out than usual, but everyone knew not to mess with him. However, the curse had started to take effect. It was a bit difficult to notice outwardly right now, but Mike’s clothes had gotten just a bit tighter on him and he was dumbed down by an IQ point or so. Imperceptible changes right now, but it wouldn’t be long before Mike was just another dumb muscle bull. 

After showing the person how to use the machine, he went back to his own workout. Unfortunately for Jimmy, other than that one instance, Mike kept to himself mostly, really pushing himself. Eventually, he did finish, and walked to the locker room. Even Jimmy and the other guys in the friend group couldn’t follow him there, since he had told them he couldn’t be sure that they weren’t “closet homos.” Jimmy wasn’t going to put his ear to the door or the wall to figure out what Mike was saying to himself, but he got his answer when the bodybuilder walked out without a shirt on. 

This wasn’t too odd for someone like Mike or most of the muscular guys who worked out here, but from the waist down, he was wearing business clothes, including pants that were seemingly painted on his massive legs. He quickly made his way out of the gym and to his car. Jimmy happened to notice his button-down peeking out from the top of his bag, likely not fitting. It was a mutual understanding between the guys of the friend group that after Mike stopped working out, you had to do so too. Therefore, Jimmy and the guys converged in the locker room and changed before heading to Mike’s place. 

When they arrived, Jimmy couldn’t be too sure if Mike had demeaned or belittled anyone else at the gym while driving home or being at home. The sweats that he was wearing were also quite tight, most of the guys shocked that they didn’t tear as Mike walked around. Mike wasn’t as angry as Jimmy thought he would be. “Fuck, guys, my pump was fuckin’ amazing today! I can barely fit into my clothes now! I don’t know what the fuck I did, but I’m sure as fuck doing it tomorrow too!” The rest of the guys, excluding Jimmy, didn’t know how to break it to him that something was wrong, and even his best pump shouldn’t have caused him to grow that massive. 

Unfortunately for Jimmy, he would miss the next gym session later that night. He had a date with his girlfriend that he could not afford to miss, but thankfully he was close enough to one of the guys who agreed to text him whenever Mike demeaned or belittled someone, for a cost, though. He had silenced his phone during the date, missing texts about Mike bashing weak people, fat people, a few women, and even a poor 13-year-old kid who tried to lift more than he really should have at his first time at the gym. It was luckily during dessert that Jimmy’s phone went off. “It’s Mike,” he said to his girlfriend. 

She let him take the call, since Mike did help to provide a good portion of Jimmy’s income. He answered the phone while walking to the front door. “Yeah, Mike, what’s up?”

“Jimmy, I, like, need help. I working out gym and clothes break. People laugh and say dumb. You smart. You help?”

“Yeah, I’ll be on my way.” Jimmy ended the call, but he didn’t go to the gym just yet. He knew that even in Mike’s dumbed-down state, the effects of the curse meant that he would still belittle and demean guys until he was speaking unintelligibly. He enjoyed dessert with his girlfriend but told her to drive home by herself. He did need to attend to the Mike thing now, but he would make it up to her later that night. He called an Uber and made his way to the gym as the friend group was sending increasingly frantic texts to him. Once he was dropped off, he ran into the gym and towards one of the back corners, where the group had made a semi-circle protecting Mike. 

There was no denying that he was a muscle behemoth now. His underwear remained in tatters beneath him, and it looked like very few clothes would fit him now, definitely not any that people at this gym had handy. The guys were also really worried because of how Mike was acting. He had a vacant look in his eyes and seemed out of it. “He kept saying your name before he got this bad,” said one of the other friends as Jimmy stepped towards Mike. To everyone’s shock, Mike actually looked at Jimmy and struggled to get out even these two words: “Me bull.” Everyone but Jimmy laughed at him and joked that it was true. 

However, Jimmy admonished them and pointed out that something was wrong with Mike. He offered to take him to the hospital, which the guys agreed to. He wasn’t going to be taking Mike to the hospital, though. He had requested that his Uber be a minivan or something with sizable trunk space. He also tipped the driver heavily as he drove the musclebound brute back to Jimmy’s house. He was able to get Mike into the garage without the neighbors noticing, and then he called up the Muscle Bull guys. 

After a quick video chat with their newest acquisition, they sent out a team to bring him to their private facility. Jimmy was paid handsomely for help in securing another Muscle Bull, and it wasn’t long before Jimmy became aware of a PSA floating around some corners of the web. Apparently, it involved a lucid Mike who implored guys like him not to make fun of their fellow gym goers, no matter the reason, or they could end up like him. Surprisingly, the PSA worked, and most cocky alpha gym bros kept to themselves from now on. But for those that just couldn’t seem to keep their mouths shut, Muscle Bulls wasn’t far behind.