Monday, July 25, 2016

The Reality Police

Jeremy was a scrawny young lad. I viewed him with the same glee I did any of my other victims. He was British, artistic, fey, and I was watching him. It was my newest assignment. But more on that later. He was talking with his friends in some fruity little cafe. Scene:

"You should go to London with us this weekend. Go to the clubs. Get laid, for fuck's sake." Jeremy's friend Kevin told him.

"Nah. I need to stay here. It's just not my thing."

"Nothing is ever your thing."

"That's not true. I just...I like to live in my imagination more than actually doing those things in real life."

"Well that's fun. Seriously, you need to live a little Jeremy. I mean you're not bad looking."

"I know that."

"You never do anything with any guys."

"I'm happy the way I am."

"No you're not! You're always wishing you were someone else."

"That's...hard to describe. I mean, I would love to be someone else. Someone masculine. Someone confident. But I'm not. I'm me. I like kittens and My Little Pony and I don't have a very high sex drive."

"What you're saying is you can't change, you just like to imagine. And you're fine with that."

"It's more like, I know reality, and reality sucks. Reality will always suck. I'll always be this way, and I can't be any different. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go put rhinestones on some T-shirts I'm selling."

"You're hopeless."

"Have fun in London!"

Jeremy walked home, wishing with typical fervor about being various other people. I licked my lips in anticipation.

"Excuse me, are you Jeremy Flynn?"

He stopped in his tracks. He had the cutest Harry Potter sans glasses look to him. Like Daniel Radcliffe but thin and a little gayer. Scratch that. A lot gayer. No stubble.

"Yes, I am. How do you know me? Do you know me from uni?"

"Yes, in part. I just got here," I said, and he thought I must have meant a plane. My accent was very flatly American. "If I could have a moment of your time, I have a job offer for you."

"Really." His brow furrowed.

"Please. Come into my office. My name is Matt. Matt Clockwise."

He followed me in the building, not knowing it was a construct of time and space and we had passed into a dimensional slip. He couldn't go back to his normal dimension even if he tried. My office was in a loft, 30 foot tall ceilings, tall windows. Bicycles hanging from the walls, antiques from my collection decorating the room. He stopped to admire a vase.

"Is this Chinese? I looks old."

"It's a Ming vase."

"You're joking."

"Jeremy Flynn. Age 23. 140 pounds, 5'6". Homosexual with low sex drive. Heavily bullied in school. Sister's name: Jennifer. Mother's name: Amanda. Men you have been sexually active with: 1."

"Okay, who are you? I thought this was for a job interview."

"In a manner of speaking. That's part of it. Have a seat, Mr. Flynn."

"No, I think I'm going to go." I smiled. So cute.

Jeremy walked downstairs and out into the open street. People walking across the street, including a woman walking her dog and several children were stopped mid-air. A woman was pouring coffee on pause in the cafe.

"Did I mention that you're not going anywhere? Or anywhen?" I said, approaching him from behind. "Let's go back upstairs, buddy."

He had this look on his face like he wanted to bolt, but my voice was authoritative and carried with it a strongly persuasive bent to it. Also I could stop time. He followed me back up to the loft and sat down, not taking his pretty boy eyes off of me. "Mr. Flynn, I've been selected to tell you that you are in violation of several key crimes for which I am personally assigned. It will be up to me to determine your sentencing and rehabilitation."

"Okay, you're crazy. I don't know how you know me but..." I silenced him by moving my finger as he was talking mid-sentence. Put him on automatic mute as it were. His eyes bugged out.

"You finished, buddy? Good. Now, shut up and listen." I watched him as he tried to talk fruitlessly. "The Reality Police have judged you to be a noteworthy case of crimes related to our jurisdiction. Essentially you have spent your entire life complaining that you don't like your reality. So it is up to me to take your reality away from you. You can talk now." I ran my hand through the air again.

"Okay. I'm officially freaked out. But whatever it is you think I did I didn't and-" I moved my finger through the air and we were suddenly standing over a scene in a high school cafeteria.

"Watch yourself here."

"I wish I could be like, really tall. This is as tall as I'll get." Fast forward. Kids sped through the scene over a few days. "I wish I could talk like a tough guy. I'll never sound tough." Fast forward. "I hate my voice." Fast forward. "I hate my life. I wish I could have a different reality. One where I was a natural jock." Fast forward. "I wish I could just push a button and become like, a boxer or something. I don't want to even be a boxer, I just want to want to be a boxer." Friends laughed at him. Fast forward. "I wish I could just act all manly by pushing a button and then go back to being me. I like being me and all. I like being silly and funny but I also hate everything. I wish I could look like this guy." The last scene was not in high school but rather at Jeremy's house as he watched porn with a friend.

"Okay, I get it. Can I go now? I don't like this. I'm sorry for complaining."

"Oh, it's not just a matter of that." I waved my hand and we were back in my office loft. "See, it's in your thoughts, too. You hate reality. You have a resentment of what we do, of the order we create. You don't think your reality is good enough."

"No, I to pretend!"

"I think what you need is a lesson. We're done here, buddy." I waved my hand.

"Ugh. What happened?" Jeremy woke up on his bed. For some reason there was a skateboard next to his bed.

"Jeremy, you're late for rugby practice! Put a move on!"

"Rugby?" Jeremy wandered to the bathroom mirror. "My voice. My body. What in the hell?"

I watched with fascination as Jeremy spent the day slowly understanding I'd given him a new rugby based life, with a mind chock full of jock information. He played with his new mates and they celebrated another good day of practice. He felt a new comfort with his body in the locker room, something he never felt before. His new body was a little improvement on his old one.

"What did you think of today?"

"I loved it. I mean I'm kind of surprised. But, can I go back now? To my old life?"

"Your OLD life? Tsk tsk, no Jeremy. We're just getting started." I smiled evilly. I love my job. Matt Clockwise doesn't just choose anyone for punishment. "Now, you've often complained about not being manly enough. The rugby was a good start, but let's up our game."

"No, please. I'm done here. I appreciate the chance but-" I flipped my hand and he disappeared.

"Alright, champ. Let's start."

I watched once again as a hapless Jeremy found himself a boxer now. He was filled with testosterone now. I watched his coach and him practice. He was terrible at first but then as his new programming kicked in, he began to get the hang of it. I popped in as his gym session was over while he was changing in the locker room. He showed no shame over his junk, and was strutting a bit, just a bit as he saw me.

"Hullo, mate."

"How was today?"

"Great. I don't really have to fight anyone, though. Do I? You're not goin' to make me, right?" I had given him a lower class accent in comparison to the one he had before, and his voice was huskier.

"You like those new muscles, lad?"

"Who are you calling lad?" He shot back, in kind of a swishy gay way, batting his eyes. "I love the feeling, though! It's terrific! Look! I'm so...manly!" He giggled.

"I don't think I'm satisfied entirely that you've learned anything." I waved my hand and Jeremy was suddenly in the ring.

"Hey, no! I only started practicing! Come on, Mr. Clockwise!" The bell rang and his opponent came in. I watched from my seat completely entertained. He was dodging like a girl at first, running away from his opponent, some huge Russian monster a head taller than him. "Please, I'm sorry I complained about reality or whatever!" The crowd started to boo him for running away like a coward. Then, he found himself responding automatically as the Russian beast came right at him and he put up his dukes in defense, then aggressively fought for his life like a maniac. He did two rounds and was a beast mode now. See, for each life I give him, he has to initiate it by giving his own personality up in lieu of the new one I'm giving him to replace it. Then the changes come. Delicious changes. Jeremy, like the Hulk, felt anger enter into him and he snarled and poised himself and like a cobra stuck the Russian in a three punch with one fist two punch with the other knockout. The larger man went down and the crowd roared.

In the celebration afterwards, I found him at the pub, happily helping himself to a pint.

"Wait a minute. I don't drink beer!" New friends of his laughed as if he'd said a funny joke. I was right there reassuring him.

"You do what we tell you to do. If I say you're a boxer, you are. You have no college degree now, by the way. Your rent is overdue and you are always begging sponsors for money. It's kind of pathetic how they love you one minute and the next you're nothing more than dirt. But that's the life you always wanted, huh champ?"

"Please, mate. I just want to be a real man. I didn't want to give up all I had."

"Does it look like I give a fuck?" I smiled cockily. "Let's see, how many times have you wished you were raised in America..." I waved my hand and he disappeared...

 Jeremy blinked.

"Shit, what happened? Hey, my voice! It's different. I sound like..."

"You're from Texas? Well you are. Welcome to your new life, cowboy!"

"Aw, shit, mister!"

"Now when you're ready to make your next change, just think to yourself that you want to give up who you are and embrace your new body's personality."

"I ain't gonna do it again! Ya'll can't make me! I just want to go inside and watch cartoons and...and...find some glitter or something!"

"Oh Jeremy. You have a job to do. Now get to work." I snapped my fingers and vanished. I watched him that day. He didn't realize that being a cowboy would be such a demanding life. His parents owned a ranch and he was saving up to go to college. The US was a different place and in this life he didn't have the test scores he needed. His new parents told him to wash the truck, and he got a hose. He couldn't find any stuff to clean the truck with so he went ahead and gave the approval to welcome in his new personality but he was fighting it.

 For part of his new job, he had to talk with people about animals. He liked animals and wanted to take photos of all the baby animals he saw, and wanted to skip around like his normal self, but his body kept self-correcting. He would begin to skip around like a sissy and then his body would take over and force him to walk like a confident cowboy. He started to strut his stuff as he walked around and eventually took his shirt off. It was a hot day and he was so hot! Why should he deny the world a look at this fucking stud body?

I showed up after he was loading some farm equipment.

"You seem to be fitting right in, partner." I mocked him.

"Ya'll gotta do somethin'. I don't wanna do all this. I mean I like all the baby animals but I ain't even allowed to talk to girls about how cute they are. I don't have any girlfriends I can just be gay with!"

"No, you can't be out. You only sneak out for illicit gay sex when you can. You meet guys at truckstops, mainly. Pretty hot stuff, if you ask me."

"I just wanna go back home to England, ya'll gotta send me back!"

"I don't have to do anything. You haven't really learned that much yet. Tell you what. I will grant you one change."

"I don't wanna live with those people. It's weird havin' parents that aren't my own."

"You don't want to live with parents and you'd rather be on your own."

"Please, it's so weird. And I have all these chores to do! I'd rather if I hafta be a cowboy to do it on my own terms!"

"Alriiiight," I said, drooling over the possibility.

Jeremy found himself with another cowboy with a mustache.

"Alright, hon. Will see you later, bud."

"Will do, sweetheart." Sweetheart? A bristly mustache touched his own handlebar ever so briefly. The two got out of their truck. Jeremy's hand went to his new facial hair. "what...I..." He walked back to his pickup truck. His husband walked into the store in which he was an employee. Jeremy leaned over the rearview mirror and saw he was now middle aged!

"Hey there, Tex!" I said, taunting him.

"You made me old!" He shouted at me, rather immaturely.

"I made you better. I like this side of you. It's more rugged."

"I am not doing this anymore," he crossed his arms and swayed his hips rather effeminately.

"That husband of yours loves to pleasure you in the sack. I think it's time we try out a new sex drive for you. The minute you're ready."

Jeremy's new job involved similar tasks to the ones he had, but now he was running a ranch. He was in charge of the numbers, of every aspect of buying animals and feed. He gave in pretty soon because he had people calling him and had no idea what to tell them. His new personality was rather different. More forward.

"No, I don't want that by Tuesday. I need it by Monday! Get it together, and make sure it's on time. I don't want to take my business elsewhere but I will if I have to. Thank you." Jeremy hung up the phone. Being a cowboy was a lot more business oriented than he ever imagined. After an entire day of hard manual labor and management, he was ready for his new husband to come home and suck his dick!

He had never had sex the way he did when Kevin got home. He outright fucked Kevin, whose hole was smooth from years of taking it up the ass by his amazingly perfect 7 inch dick. He had never considered topping before but the minute the tip of his dick hit that ass he was in heaven.

The next few days I let him be a confident older man. I let him be in charge of his relationship with Kevin, a total man's man with clients, a competent businessman employing and directing ranch hands.

"Well, how do you feel?"

"I feel like a new man!" He shook my hand confidently. "I never want to go back to being a young man again. I absolutely love this life. It's hard work, but I love it."

I snapped my fingers. Jeremy reverted to his original personality.

"Oh my god, you have to make this stop! I have dirt inside all my fingernails! Look at my nails! They are so disgusting!"

"Oh, poor thing." I gave him a sarcastic sad face. "Alright, cowboy. You have one thing you can change."

"I want a college degree back! And to be educated! Everyone here just talks about beer and country music! Like none of them read anything! And okay, my husband is hot, I would like to kind of keep him but I don't know if I want to top anymore. I don't know if it's really me and..." I froze him.

"You want a college degree? You got it!" I waved my hand.

Jeremy found himself in a party filled with affluent people.

"So, Jeremy. Why don't you give me the skinny on those stock options. You keep telling me you have something big waiting just for me. Well, I'm waiting." Jeremy realized he had something in his hand with smoke wafting from it. The only thing he ever had that smoked was incense. And some kind of hard liquor in a small bottle.

"Well, I..." His new voice was gravelly. He was wearing a suit. "Excuse me, I'll be right back." Jeremy excused himself and with a panicked look on his face found a way outside the vicinity of the party and I was right there waiting for him. He caught his reflection in the mirrored reflection of a large glass window. "Is that me? I look like someone's dad. And look! I can't smoke cigars! They're...gross!"

"I have at least 12 instances of you wishing you could be a cigar smoker."

"Well, I changed my mind! I can't smoke this thing! I don't even know how to smoke! And I can't pull it off! I mean, honestly, do I look like the type of guy that smokes cigars," he said with his hand on his hip in the gayest possible way. "Oh well, I suppose I do, but you know what I mean. Sir, please. Please just let's forget about this whole thing and send me back to England. Pretty please?"

"Welcome in your new personality, Mr. Flynn. You have business to attend to." I smiled and disappeared. I watched as he fretted and looked at the cigar like he didn't even want to hold it.

"Oh alright! Fine!" He stomped a foot and then the new personality started to kick in. "Mmm." Jeremy brought the cigar to his mouth and took his first drag. "OH god, that's good."

"And that, gentlemen, is why this business deserves your attention right now. Biomedical advancements in sending nano-machines into the bloodstream requires a lot of investment but it's going to be worth it. Imagine the future."

"I'm sold. You give a good presentation, Flynn."

"That's what I get paid the big money for." Jeremy smiled confidently in his new husky dad-voice.

After Jeremy drove his new sports car home, his new personality took over. He was confident. More so than any other personality. The boxer was constantly worried about his future but let his primal anger rule in the ring. It was savage and satisfying but ultimately a scary existence. The rugby player was fun but dumb and all his friends were boring. The first young cowboy was closeted and hated being controlled by his parents all the time. And the older cowboy resented being in a place without any culture.

I spent several days watching him as he drove himself all the time as a workaholic devoted to high end finance. He was a man who inspired other men and fired them as well. He was merciless to those that didn't make a profit and cold in his philosophy. He didn't give a crap about anyone that wasn't in his business or that didn't make him any money. He smoked cigars confidently every day and walked around like he owned the world. I popped in for a visit.

"So tell me how you like your new life."

"I love my life. I'm in charge of everything. I rule. I snap my fingers and someone jumps. I don't answer to anyone except the IRS. I could buy and sell most lesser men. I don't need you to change things at all. I'm pretty confident I've found the place I need to be. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a very important meeting to attend to." I snapped my fingers and Jeremy's original personality was returned to him.

"And now?"

"OH my god, he doesn't care about anyone!" He whined. "He doesn't even like cartoons! He thinks they're for children! He looks down on anyone who watches them. And he hates glitter! Take me out of here! I can't spend my life like this!" He sounded like he was on the verge of crying.

"I'll let you change one thing."

"Well I want to love someone! He doesn't even have any friends!"

"Oh, I can do that. Well, bye!" I waved my hands and his personality went back into business mode. That night as he got home he disrobed and his boy toy, a fresh faced young man still in college showed up.

"Hello, sir."

Jeremy lit up a cigar and inhaled deeply. It was so satisfying.

"Yes, boy. Did you do all your chores today?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what do you think Daddy would like you to do for him?"

"I think you'd probably like me to suck your big cock, sir."

"Very good, boy. Why don't you get to work on that?" Muscles suddenly inflated as his boy sucked on his big dick, and he grew proportionately bigger than his smaller "son".

Jeremy was so much bigger than his college boi, who he had an arrangement with. Kevin was a good boi, and he was in agreement to be his willing servant in every way. If he told him to do a list of chores, he expected them done. Jeremy was totally in charge in the bedroom as well as the boardroom. Kevin could take his big dick without any gagging and was absolutely subservient. If he clapped his hands, Kevin was on his hands and knees begging his Lord and Master to give him instructions. Kevin was taken care of as long as he did every single thing he was told.

"That's right. Suck Daddy's dick. Suck it like you worship it, bitch."

After a few hours of using his toy, Jeremy sent his boi bitch to make his dinner. He lounged on his couch as I popped in.


"He's such a hot piece of ass. You want a piece of my dick, too?"

"Tempting, but I'd like to talk to Original Jeremy." I snapped my fingers.

"Oh wow. I'm a Daddy. This one"

"You like this time? You actually approve of one of my lifestyle choices?" I mocked him slightly.

"It wasn't...terrible."

"I'm so glad you approve."

Jeremy, in his dominant alpha male form, crossed his legs effeminately. "I just had never experienced anything like it. I mean, I just don't like the order giving. I'm so mean."

"You're a dom. You're supposed to be fucking mean. It turns your sub on to service you in every way. He's only happy if you're happy."

"But that's the way I used to be! That's me!"

"I reversed it. Sue me."

"I wanna go home, sir." Jeremy whined.

"You want to go back to England. It's possible."

"And I don't want to be mean. It's not me. I just want to give men their fantasies. I want to make THEM happy." Jeremy's alpha gravelly voice really did not gel well with his Original Jeremy personality.

 "You know, I think all of those things are possible." I waved my hand.

"Oh, god. Oh god!" Jeremy found himself feeling better than he ever had before. He was built. Huge. Muscles covered his frame like he never knew were possible. His dick was a machine. He came into his partner's mouth.


The porn shoot took a break while Kevin licked his lips and savored Jeremy's cum.

"Nice one, Jeremy. You always have the most delicious loads."

"Th-thank you."

Jeremy excused himself to a dressing room so he could gape at his new size. He suddenly wished his personality away. He adjusted. He realized he was in a porno but he was in shock from how big he was to the point where that was actually more enveloping his thoughts. They were on location in England for the next month or so. He was booked as an escort every day and his British clients were willing to pay much more than escorts made in the US. He was a very hot rent boy due to his fame within the industry. He was a very big catch and richer men often rented him for upwards of $1000 an hour.

I left him to his non stop fuck sessions. Jeremy reveled in his gym workouts, in his size, in the sheer feeling of sexually empowering other men to newfound heights of joy. Sometimes they wanted to be in charge, sometimes they wanted him to be in charge. Sometimes they wanted to worship him, sometimes they wanted him to be a cowboy, or an executive, or a rugby or soccer player. There were so many fantasies and he fulfilled them all and they begged for more. His dick was the hottest property imaginable. One man bought him a $30,000 Rolex.

He had made so much more money as a rich executive when he was one, but this was somehow the happiest he had been out of his many bodies.

"Okay, moment of truth." I surprised him after he got home one night. "What do you think, pumpkin."

Jeremy was silent. His Original Personality was in place.

"I'm...amazing. This body. The men. The sex. I never knew sex could be like this. It's...heaven."

"You bring joy to other men."

"But I do miss my old life. Sort of. But...these muscles. I could never have muscles like this before. Men worship me and I make them happy. I never knew it could be like this. I'm making them happy but in a different way, in a physical way's like I'm the ultimate fantasy. Me."

"You are a cum machine."

"But...I don't have any other career options. I have a major in theater but this is what I got with it."

"Actors shouldn't be picky."

"Yeah, I'm never gonna break into Hollywood. Not with my resume."

"Well. I think ten years more of being a rent boy should suffice."

"Ten years?"

I snapped my fingers and the new Jeremy personality took over.

"Do you want me to thank you, Mr. Clockwise?"

"Yes, I do. Get on your knees. You're going to suck my dick, Mr. Universe."

Jeremy smiled and he started working on my dick for the first time. I smiled blissfully as my dick engorged in his perfect mouth. Did I ever tell you I love my job? 

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Authoritarian Muscle Growth Story: Wesley and Master Ed

A few people have asked me why I didn't have a Father's Day story for you guys. Well, to celebrate this Father's Day I wrote a much longer story than usual, which you can view NOW over on the Evolution muscle website:

Synopsis: A young adoptee and his stepfather begin an authoritarian relationship (authoritarian, muscle growth, muscle theft, master/slave themes) No violence.

I picture Master Ed as looking like this, minus the cel phone (the story takes place before they became popular for the most part)

Monday, May 30, 2016

Myostat Syndrome Stories - Brian and Me

February 19, 2040

As I write this journal entry, I am so scared because I thought it would be so different. Brian has been diagnosed with Myostat Syndrome. Brian. Little fucking Brian. 

I always thought I’d get Myostat and get all buff by the time I was 12. I was always bigger than most of the other kids. Myostat cases are only 1 in every 200 kids now. They peaked in the 2020s so when I was growing up in the 2030s all these kids were getting buff. Like, we’re talking in the 8 to 14 range. They look like adults, but they aren’t, they are still just kids inside. It changed society for a lot of reasons because they passed the Myostat Adult Equivolency Act. If you have the body of an adult, you are free to join the military if you are 10 or over or get a job if you are 13 or over, with the approval of your parents.  It sucks. The statistics shot way up so that it was almost 10% of all the kids in that age range. That meant a twentieth of schools were not children, but adults walking among children. Well, those that didn’t join the army. And Myostat only affects boys. And not just any adults, but superhuge adults. 

I admit I didn’t take it well when I didn’t get it. The statistics had already dropped to 1 in every 100 kids again. My school only had three “men” and they kept to themselves. No one in the 7th or 8th grade dared to bother them. 

I decided to go after Brian because no one liked him. He was such a dork. The little fag liked ballet and hung out with girls because they liked having gay friends who could talk about dresses with them. I fucking hated his guts for pretty much the reason he always had these witty comebacks when I called him names. Every time I tried to make fun of him, it backfired. 

There were days when I shoved him into walls “accidentally”. I mean, how could I not? It got a laugh from all the other kids. We went to school in a rural area and our school district couldn’t afford an anti-bullying program. They had a robot guard for a while but the kids sabotaged it and they had to scrap it. And with all the wars we have fought, the school budgets are always being cut so they don’t really mind bullying these days. Bullies are usually secretly given perks by the gym coach. He gives us more food rations for our families if we do well on track meets and he overlooks our “fun” with kids like Brian.
Anyway. So one day we beat him up because we wanted to show other kids who was boss of the school. The Myostat kids no one bothered didn’t really throw their weight around except one named Rock, and we all deferred to him whenever he showed up. But he didn’t say anything when we bullied other kids. He just told us his “little” brother, who was actually older than him by a year, was off limits. That was our only arrangement. He didn’t participate because he said it was too easy to throw us little twerps around and he preferred to hang out with real men. 

I should also point out that we had nothing against gays. I mean, most Myostat kids turned gay because the two went hand in hand. And Myostat was genetic for the most part, though 1 in a 100 Myostat kids could actually “breed” other Myostat cases, but only past the point of puberty. But because you had to fuck them, it was looked at by many like an STD. And it works on anyone male. Myostat kids with the gene to fuck other men into muscle studs were rare. I actually asked Rock about it when I got tested and they said I didn’t have Myostat, and he said he didn’t have the gene so I couldn’t get it from him. Still, it happened. Parents who were desperate for their son (14 or older) to have an advantage would find a handsome Myostat “kid” or Myostat adult, who could fuck their kid and turn him into a huge muscle stud in just a few months. It was also a reversal because normally you could only contract Myostat Syndrome if you were under 15 but you could get it from someone that had it if they were an adult and had the gene to pass it along. The government had eventually taken steps to make that illegal to fuck to get Myostat for pay, but it happened if you had the money. And it wasn’t illegal if you claim it as an “accident”. It is estimated that a full 25% of the adult male population over 18 is of bodybuilder class.  Most of those are former Myostat kids, grown up (as it were). The obesity rates had risen to 40% by the 2020’s so many think the government secretly engineered Myostat to combat the epidemic and unleashed it on the public without their knowledge. Today only about 33% of the males over 18 are obese. We are truly a nation of alpha and beta males.

None of us were really making fun of Brian for being gay. We were making fun of him for being an effeminate poofball who minced around like a fairy. He was just too easy to make fun of.

Then one day, he didn’t come back. Then we all heard he’d been diagnosed and the rumors started to fly. We heard his parents paid for it. We heard that he just had the gene and it was dormant until the age of 13, which did happen. Usually it happened sooner, though.
Then we heard he was moving. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Feb 21, 2040

Only…the thing about rumors is they are sometimes just rumors…this is what happened today. I ran into this guy who looked like he was a high schooler but with the body of a soldier, so I thought he was one, at first.


“Well well well, if it isn’t the little fairy.”

“What? Are you talkin’ to me?”

“Yeah I’m talkin’ to you, FUCKHEAD. Who else is around?” I looked around. This huge dude was talking to me and all I was doing was taking a walk. It was Saturday. No school. Most kids were inside playing holo games or at sports practice. I was taking the day off from baseball to go for a walk and quickly wished I hadn’t. 

“Look dude, I don’t want any problems.”

“Dude? Do you know who I am? Take a better look, loser.”

I did. Oh god. Oh no. No!

“Yeah. You recognize me now, pencil dick?”


“Yeah. It’s me, twinkle toes. God, you’re so fuckin’ tiny now.” Brian’s voice rumbled. His face was still so angelic but his voice was rich and thick and had dropped considerably. He started to walk towards me and I turned and ran like a coward. I heard him laugh. “I’ll see you at school on Monday, tiny!”

This was a nightmare. I tried to convince my mom to send me to another school and tried to explain it, but she wasn’t having any of it. She hadn’t been too happy to learn about my antics, and I admitted just a little bit of it. She said I’d made my bed and could lie in it. Besides, assault was still illegal. She told me not to worry. 

Mom didn’t know how schools worked anymore.

When Monday came the school was abuzz and Brian made his debut. Suddenly, he was everyone’s newest best friend. A few kids came to him about “protection” from bullies and he kept them in his circle. He had a circle of people around him at lunch just eating out of the palm of his hand and waiting on every word. I observed from a distance.

I thought I was safe for the day. Gym was my last class and I stayed long to do inventory check with the coach. I was doing it because he could talk to the high school coach about getting me on the team next year, and besides which he was the one who let me get away with the most shit, especially in the locker room. I’d bully kids frequently and he would just look the other way. “It’s the way of the world, strong dominate the weak,” he said once. Like I said, schools didn’t have the money for anti bullying programs anymore and with the war, society didn’t really give a fuck anymore. That was just so 2010s. 

So I was dressed and coming out of the locker room and there was Brian, leaning against the wall. 

“Hey, man. Wanna talk?”

I immediately ran. He was too quick for me and from behind he threw me onto the ground and laughed. I tried to get up and he had me in a vise like grin. He still looked 12 in his face because the Myostat hadn’t progressed to give him facial hair yet, but he would look 30 in a matter of months. He picked me up like a grown man would pick up a five year old. 

“So little. Isn’t he, boys?” My three best friends were there, looking stunned. He had chosen them to be there. They were looking at the ground or up at me with apologetic looks on their faces. “See, things have changed a little bit, haven’t they Short Stuff?” He grinned at me, just inches from my face. He gently put me on the ground and then with a violent shove on my back send my face into the dirt. I choked as I tasted dust and spit it out. Brian laughed. “Am I enough of a fairy now, boys?”

“You aren’t a fairy. We never said that!”

“Yeah. We never said that!”

“Shut up,” he ordered. My friends…well, former friends, shut up.

“I’m sorry,” I sputtered. 

“Yeah, you’re sorry. Sorry doesn’t really cut it, bitch. I want revenge. So listen up.” He yanked my shirt and lifted me up into the air with one arm and lifted me above his head, and casually talked. “I’m in charge of this school now. You don’t tell anyone what to do, ever. Your reign is over. I’m the new king. You got that, FAGGOT?”

“Y-yes. Please don’t hurt me!”

“Please don’t hurt me!” he cried in falsetto, mocking me. “God, what a fucking PUSSY. You’re more of a pussy than I ever was, at least I never begged you. I fucking straight up told you to leave me alone. I mean my voice was a little bit different but honey, I’m gonna make you my personal bitch from now on. So when I show up to school tomorrow you’re gonna carry my books for me like a girl would. You got that, princess?”

“I don’t want to-“ I whined. He put me down and smacked me across the face. I collapsed to the ground, dizzy. My former accomplices backed up in horror.  “Say no to me again and it’s another smack. You want another smack, sweetie?” I got up again, meekly looking down at the ground.

“N-no. Please!” I cried. I begged. 

“You’re my new bitch. SAY IT.” He crossed his huge arms. 

“I-I’m your new bitch.”

“Call me “boss”.”

“Okay. Boss.” 

“Good, now call me that tomorrow. In front of other people. I’m your new boss and if anyone asks, just say it’s a joke between us.”


“Good. Now see boys, that wasn’t difficult. Your little hero is now my bitch. Isn’t that right?” 

“We could all take you if we worked together,” I spat out bitterly. 

“No, you really wouldn’t. See, I have the gene where I can fuck any man into a bodybuilder.”


“Sorry, man. He promised to fuck us in a few years if we become his friends and back him up.”

“More like my minions,” Brian laughed. “They’re my friends now, wimp. And for you, all you can hope for it to leech off of my popularity. You’re not gonna be on any teams next year. You won’t try out for anything in high school. I’ll be the new jock and you’re going to be a big nobody. If you even try out for sports, I’ll make sure you regret it and no one will care. It’s totally legit for Myostat kids to be on sports teams as long as both teams have equal numbers and you know that everyone who is Myostat plays football around here. It’s tradition, after all. I’m gonna be the best, and you’re gonna be no one. Say it.”

“You’re gonna be the best and I’m gonna be no one, boss.” I cowered in fear.

“Good. Now get up. Tomorrow you’re gonna give me your lunch that your mommy makes you. I need more calories than you, shithead.” 

I sunk in fear. How far would this go? How much would he own me? Brian snapped his fingers and my former friends jumped at his command and followed him. “Let’s leave the little pussy to cry himself home,” Brian said laughing. I heard my former friends laugh with him. 

August 10, 2040

So that’s my story so far. I’m starting high school next week. I’ve spent all summer as Brian’s personal servant. I do his laundry. I clean his room. We tell his mom it’s because he’s protecting me from bullies. I follow him around like a girl. Brian’s dad is a soldier and with him away, Brian is the man of the house. He’ll drink beer and I’ll be doing his chores. Then one night he wanted something more. He wanted me to suck his dick. You can’t get Myostat from oral sex if someone has the gene. You can only get it through anal sexual or blood contact. He actually shines a flashlight in my mouth every time to make sure I haven’t cut myself in the hopes of his cum infecting me via my mouth. He orders me to suck his now enormous dick. Now I’m just a faggot. He calls me faggot when it’s just us. He chuckles as he plays gay porn and forces my head down, choking me with his manhood.
Oh, and as for ballet, he is still really into it, but of late he’s entered into the realm of ballroom dancing. Every woman in town wants to fuck him now and the ladies at the dance studio love him. He has fucked several women. Some high school girls, sometimes their moms. But he’s mostly into men. He has men lined up to get fucked by him. He’s turned several into Myostat gene carriers. You see, the going rate for being fucked by someone with the gene is about 100K. Brian has enough money to last him well into his 20s. He now has adult bodybuilder friends who he hangs out with at bars and clubs. I’m just his suckslave. I think his mother knows and looks the other way. I think she knows everything that has happened and has no sympathy for me. Here’s my Boss with one of the guys who worships him. He’s gay but hasn’t been “initiated” yet. He doesn’t have the money for a fuck session to give him the Myostat gene so he is “working it off” by doing all sorts of favors for Brian. He works for the police and makes sure Brian can get away with bullying anyone in town he wants to. This picture was taken in late May. Brian was able to grow facial hair by this point, making him look older and definitely more imposing than he was already.

As for me, my name isn’t important. I’m not important. Only Brian matters now. Brian calls the shots. My only shot at escape is to get good grades on my SAT. I’ll be spending most of my time in high school studying books like a nerd. Maybe I’ll be able to join the army when I’m 17 and can do so legally. But for the next four years, I’m just Brian’s bitch. My name is Bitch, or Faggot, or Fuckhead. 

Oh and this was Brian by the end of summer. He’s matured since May, you see. He can legally smoke and drink, or do anything else a grown man has the legal right to do. His hair receded a bit, making him look more like he’s in his 30s.

“Hey, Faggot. Make me my usual sandwich. I’m hungry.”

He’s always hungry.

“Yes, sir. Turkey and swiss. Right away, boss.”

“Good faggot.”

That is our relationship now. I have to say that as much as I hated it at first, the last four months of school and three months of summer vacation being Brian’s bitch has taught me my place. Brian has taught me that I am indeed a faggot. I do enjoy sucking his big dick and I realize that I only made fun of him before because I was secretly gay. I now am happy to have a real man like him in my life. He has taught me that other men and women will beg him for his godhood, and I get it for free. I am grateful to him for showing me the errors of my ways when I was a bully, and I will never do so again, as he has ordered me not to.
Don’t feel sorry for me. I actually am at peace with being his bitch. It’s almost a load off. He has banned me from gaining any muscle at the gym and I am to watch as superior boys become men before my eyes as the years pass. All my friends will be able to work out but I will not be allowed. I am to suck them off if they tell me to at any point in the future and at least one of them, who I must call Boss as well, has decided to take up the offer. He was once my friend, once my minion who jumped at the opportunity to bully kids with me or for me. Now he orders me to suck him off and laughs at me. 

I was not one of the chosen and I never will be. I am Brian’s bitch. I say it a hundred times in the morning and a hundred times before I go to bed. I must. Brian has me wake up in the morning with my mantra and before he goes to bed he wants to hear it. I also must say it whenever we are alone, first thing. I am Brian’s bitch, I am Brian’s bitch, I am Brian’s bitch…this is my life and it’s who I am. Would you like to meet Brian? I know you’re the new gay kid at school and after you came out, Brian really wanted to talk to you. Yes, he can make you huge. He’s willing to do if for free, yes. Yes, I will probably suck you off as your bitch, too. But only if my Boss Brian is okay with it. 

There he is now! Hello, Boss. Yes, sir. 

Well, it looks like I’ll be calling you Boss as soon as this weekend. Yes, sir. I am a faggot. Thank you, sir. 

I hear the sound of laughter but to me it’s just any other day being Brian’s Bitch. The laughter means nothing like it used to. It just means I’m the lucky one to be given the honor to serve. Can I get you something to drink, Sir?