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
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”.”
“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.”
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?