Fuck Your Brains Out

Hey guys - Merry Christmas, if that's your thing.  Last year I published a free story on Christmas and I decided to do it again this year.  You'll find this one over at GSS too.  Thanks so much for all your support!  There'll be one more story in a few days, and then the last chapter of 'Catch of the Day' for Horny Himbo subscribers on the 31st.

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This all happened about six months ago.

It started on the internet, like everything does these days. He was a fan of my stories – I’ve been writing for over a decade. Smutty stuff. My specialty is writing transformation stories where some random guy gets transformed into a muscled up sex machine.

Jocks, bros, and himbos – those are my flavours, and lately I’ve been heavy on the himbos. There’s something about a wide-eyed idiot that really gets me off. I think it’s the fantasy of letting go – I’m actually a pretty responsible guy in real life, so devolving into a sexy fuckboy had a forbidden appeal.

It’s my fantasy, and from my fan mail, it’s a fantasy that a lot of my you share. Something about modern society isn’t kind to those who overthink – I’d like to escape. Maybe you would too.

His email started out pretty normal. He’d just read “It’s Hot Out Here” on my Patreon, and he loved the way I took a bunch of nerdy guys and turned them into muscle bros. “I wish someone would transform me”, he wrote. “Haha”, I wrote back, “If only it was real.”

That’s where it usually ends, but with this guy, it was just starting.

“It is real,” he wrote in his next email. “I’m gonna transform you. I love your stories... it’s the least I can do.”

I did what any rational person would do. I marked the email ‘read’ and forgot about it.

Two days went by before his next email. It started with an address – a cheap motel on the side of the highway, about two hours from where I live. That scared me a little. I try to maintain a little privacy online, but I’ll admit, I like to drop local references into my stories. You wouldn’t be able to figure out the exact town I live in... but the closest major city, yeah.

The next line was a time. Eight o’clock at night, three days in the future. Friday.

“You’re a smart guy,” he wrote. “That’s obvious. And you’ve got your fantasy – you wanna be pretty and dumb and horny. I get it. Well, I’ve got a magic cock. If you’re brave enough to show up, I’m gonna fuck your brains out bro. I’m gonna change your life.”

I have to admit – I stared at that email for a long time. He was close enough that it was possible to meet up. And the story he was suggesting... I’ve written that one many times. It’s a favourite of mine.

He wasn’t the first guy to suggest a meet up. I’ve had four or five guys reach out and suggest a hookup – after all, we both share the same kinks, it’d be incredible, right? But most of those guys say stuff like “If you’re ever in New York, give me a call.”

I always flirt back when that happens and say I’d love it, if I’m ever in the area. Honestly, maybe I’d actually make the call... but I’ve never put it to the test before. This was different though – this guy was close, and he had a plan.

My first thought was about privacy. Like I said, I try to keep my real identity hidden. I was worried he’d look up my license plate or sneak a peek at my drivers license. If he decided to out me... BOOM. Suddenly I’m not Derek Williams, online erotica writer. I’m [redacted], that twisted sicko who nobody would ever hire again.

I couldn’t give that much power to anyone. Certainly not some anonymous fan from the internet.

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There’s sort of a fraternity among erotica writers. it’s nothing formal, but a lot of us DM each other on Discord and talk about our stories. “Hey man, loved the new story, super hot with the superhero elements” – that sort of stuff. There’s feedback you can only get from other writers. Also, in cases like this, they’re the only ones worth consulting.

This email was a new one for me, so I sent a DM to one of my favourite writers. I haven’t told him I’m gonna put this in a story, so I hope he’s cool with me using a (slightly edited) version of our conversation.

It went like this.

***DerekWilliams***: hey man... weird question, but I’ve got a fan who wants to meet up and ‘fuck my brains out’. do you ever get this stuff??

***[redacted erotica writer]***: haha, yeah, those guys are weird

***DerekWilliams***: It’s just...

***DerekWilliams***: he says he’s got a magic cock and he can actually like... transform me or whatever.

***[redacted erotica writer]***: you thinking about it??

***DerekWilliams***: not really... but it’s kind of a fun fantasy, right?

***DerekWilliams***: I mean... I’m tempted

***[redacted erotica writer]***: hey, i’m not gonna slut shame, but be careful, okay? some of these guys have trouble separating fantasy from reality...

***DerekWilliams***: yeah

***[redacted erotica writer]***: tho he probably just wants to role-play dude...

***DerekWilliams***: yeah. could be hot, right? but what if he’s ugly

***[redacted erotica writer]***: but what if he’s a supermodel...

***DerekWilliams***: dude, supermodels don’t go around messaging porn writers

***[redacted erotica writer]***: why not? they’re horny too. besides... you’ve seen my pics and I’m messaging you.

***[redacted erotica writer]***: btw, i showed you mine...

***DerekWilliams***: lol

We chatted for a while longer, but you get the idea. On one hand, it could definitely be a hot bit of role-play. On the other hand, the guy might be totally off his rocker. Oh well... it was only a two hour drive, and I still had until Friday to decide.

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I should mention that I’m married – but like, gay married, so we’re open.

It’s only relevant because I got home from work and he was in a foul mood. He works for a big company and sometimes he has to fly out to conferences and do some public speaking. One of his colleagues was down sick, so his boss had assigned him to fill in. That meant he’d be away all weekend – Friday until Tuesday – and he had to pack at the last minute.

It seemed like fate.

“This is such bullshit,” he ranted. “Carol just expects me to present at the last minute? I don’t know anything about the mobile commenting initiative.”

“Isn’t it all in the slides?” I asked. “I mean... the presentation is ready, right?”

“Yeah, but there are gonna be questions,” he grumbled. “There’s a 15 minutes Q&A. I can’t exactly say ‘email this guy’ the whole time. Hey, can you please remember to put the garbage out for collection on Monday?”

“Yeah, of course,” I said, promptly forgetting about it. I was too busy thinking about what this meant. If he was flying out Friday morning, I wouldn’t even need to explain meeting up with a fan. I could just drive up, fuck for a few hours, and come back home.”

We were halfway through supper before he finally asked about me.

“Hey, are you doing anything this weekend?” he asked. “You could get some writing done. Maybe not leave it all til the last minute this month?”

“I dunno,” I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll hit up a fuckbuddy. Get a little inspiration.”

“Your life is absurd,” he said, his shoulders finally relaxing. “Say hi to Tony for me. I’m glad one of us is having some fun this weekend. And both of us are getting fucked.”

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I responded to his email that night. “I’ll be there,” I wrote. “Eight o’clock on Friday night. Looking forward to it.”

I sort of expected him to email back right away, but he left me hanging until the next morning.

“Good,” he wrote. “Here are your instructions. No food for twelve hours beforehand. Make sure you give yourself a good douche, nice and thorough. Dress preppy for me – that means a dress shirt and slacks and a pair of nice shoes. Wear a skinny tie – black or grey. Slick your hair into a combover and make sure I can see the comb marks. You’ll bring a bag with you – a pair of jeans and a fitted t-shirt and a baseball cap and ankle socks and sneakers. You’ll knock on the door at 8 PM exactly – hold up your phone so I can see the time. One minute early or late and I won’t answer. You’ll turn off the phone as soon as you enter the room and you won’t turn it on until you leave – I don’t want us getting interrupted.”

That was a lot of rules. This guy definitely liked exercising his dom side, at least during role-play. I prefer to play the sub anyhow, so I didn’t mind. Honestly, there was something thrilling about the way he was bossing me around.

“You’re consenting to being transformed,” he wrote in the next paragraph. “Email me back to confirm that you understand the instructions and that you consent. Send me your phone number too – I’ll text you the room number on Friday.”

I checked my cock – yup, still very hard. Eight seconds later, I emailed back and confirmed.

“Good boy,” he replied. It sent a thrill through my spine. “I’ll see you on Friday. Do not email me again.”

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I took off from work early on Friday. I was feeling nervous – that dom/sub stuff can be hot in the heat of the moment, but the more I thought about it, the more I worried that I was meeting up with a total psycho. He had a lot of rules, and he clearly expected to be obeyed.

Our apartment was empty. My husband had left for his work trip hours ago. I’d gotten a single text that his flight had landed safely – I didn’t expect anything else for days. He was wrapped up in work, and we’re not particularly co-dependent.

I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and that was probably part of why my stomach had butterflies. But his instructions had been clear: no food for twelve hours beforehand.

I’ve never been one of those guys who has to starve himself to bottom, but whatever – I got the feeling he’d be strict. If I got there and he smelled M&M’s on my breath, it’d be a long drive for nothing.

Excuse the details, but I took a dump and then gave myself a thorough douching in the shower. We’ve got one of those attachments. By 5:30 I was ready to go – my bag was packed and I was wearing the exact outfit he’d specified.

He hadn’t mentioned underwear, so I’d slipped on my favourite jockstrap. It’s this black one from Andrew Christian with their brand written in glitter along the waistband. I’ve got a pretty big cock, so it’s hard to find sexy underwear that’s comfortable too.

I got in my car and turned on an acoustic album I like. Traffic was backed up – I cursed. If I was late because of construction, I knew I’d have a major set of blue balls at the end of the night.

Lucky for me the delay wasn’t too bad. Ten minutes and I was on the highway.

About an hour later I got a text. “Blocked number,” my phone read out loud. “Message reads ‘Room 302’”.

We all know who it was.

I pulled into the motel parking lot at 7:35. It wasn’t the kind of place with pay parking, so I parked out back and scoped out the situation. I could see the room from where I was positioned – it was one of those motels with outdoor stairs and a long balcony connecting all the doors.

I still had twenty minutes to kill, so I set a timer on my phone and lapsed into contemplation. Why was I even here? I’ve got plenty of fuckbuddies back homes and none of them make me drive for hours or try to impose ridiculous rules. To be honest though... it was kind of hot. This guy, whoever he was... he was in full control. Sometimes I like to be controlled. Besides, his roleplaying was indulging my exact kink. How cool was that?

I started getting hard just thinking about it. This guy was gonna transform me with his cock. Even if it wasn’t real – and it totally wasn’t real – it was still hot as hell.

My alarm went off at 7:57. I got out of the car and grabbed my bag, carrying it up to the third floor. By the time I got to the outside of his room my phone said it was 7:59, so I waited outside the door, staring at the glowing screen and psyching myself up.

I imagined who it might be. A sexy musclebro. A hot leather daddy. Some dude in his twenties with way too much self-esteem.

At eight o’clock on the dot, I knocked on the door.

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He answered the door and he wasn’t at all what I expected. For a second I thought I had the wrong room. He was older than me – somewhere in his late 40’s – and he had the look of a man who sells discount car insurance.

He was average. The kind of guy you wouldn’t give a first glance to, let alone a second look. He was going bald and carrying a bit of a beer gut and wearing khakis that didn’t quite fit and weren’t quite baggy.

“Uh, hi...” I stammered. “I’m –“

“Derek,” he interrupted. “Come on in.”

He turned his back to me and walked inside the room, leaving me standing there with my bag. I carried it over the threshold and closed the door behind me. The room was unremarkable – it hadn’t been updated since the 90’s, except for the flatscreen TV.

“Derek’s a nom de plume?” he asked, giving me a once over. I’m not a bad looking guy – average in a lot of ways, but it makes a cute package. Twenty year olds don’t hit on me in bars anymore, but I’m old enough that it’d be creepy to reciprocate anyways.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m kinda private about –“

He cut me off.

“I don’t need your real name,” he said reassuringly. “You’re Derek tonight, you got that boy?”

My license plate was facing away from the room and my wallet was locked in the trunk. Unless he went seriously out of his way, he wasn’t finding out my name. I relaxed a little bit – he was just a fan who wanted to play out a fantasy.

“Okay,” I nodded. “And what do I call you?”

“Whatever you like,” he shrugged. “Let’s see what we have to work with...”

He grabbed at my dress shirt and ripped it open. Buttons went flying everywhere. I heard one of them bounce off the hard tiles in the bathroom.

“Hey!” I said, backing away.

“Don’t worry Derek,” he grinned. “It’s all part of the process.”

I gave him an incredulous look.

“That’s a pretty hairy chest you’ve got there,” he said, continuing on like I hadn’t objected. “I like my boys smooth.”

“Well, this is what I’ve got to work with,” I shrugged. I’ve been hairy since I was a teenager. If you had to pick a gay stereotype for me, I guess you’d call me an otter.

“It’s what you’ve got... for now,” he smirked. “Kick off your shoes.”

I did what he asked and then kicked off my socks for good measure. He stepped forward and put a pair of rough hands on me.

“I didn’t say to wear a belt,” he said, clucking his tongue as he loosened it. “And the underwear.... you’re sexy Derek, but you don’t follow instructions very well, do you? Get naked for me.”

I rolled my eyes and lowered my jockstrap.

“You woulda liked fucking me in that,” I grinned, trying to maintain some control.

“I’m gonna like fucking you anyhow,” he smirked again. “Now get on the bed.”

I crawled onto the bed, sticking my ass in the air and propping myself up on my elbows.

“Roll over,” he ordered. “And get over to the edge. I’m gonna stand here, and you’re gonna throw your legs over my shoulders.”

“Uh, okay...” I said. I’d done this before, but most guys liked seeing my ass when they fucked me.

“I like to see the eyes when I fuck a guy,” he said, reading my mind. “You’re gonna be a dumbass Derek... and the eyes are where the lights go out. I wanna see your eyes. And your pecs... and your abs...”

“You don’t wanna watch my ass swell up into a big bubble butt?” I teased, getting into the fantasy. “Slap me around and watch it jiggle?”

“I’ll feel it,” he shrugged. Then he pulled out a tube of lube and started fingering my hole, getting me ready with practiced ease.

I had to admit, it felt really good.

“Good boy... nice and clean...” he murmured as he fingered me. “I guess you can follow instructions... at least a little.”

“Mmm... fuck me daddy,” I moaned under him. I’ll admit, I wasn’t really ready to be moaning yet, but when you’re role-playing it’s important to embellish a little. I might not be ripped, but I know how to write a sex scene.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” he grinned. “We’ll keep that part.”

And then his cock was inside me, pushing in slowly at first, but once he realized I could take it he slammed the rest in. I gasped and grabbed at the thin motel sheets under me.

“You okay?” he asked, giving me a concerned look.

“Keep going,” I gasped. “I want you to fuck me!”

“Good boy,” he grinned, slamming his cock back inside me. He got a slow rhythm going, then reached down and twisted my left nipple. That’s the sensitive one – I moaned again, nodding my appreciation.

“Let’s get started,” he said with a smug tone. “My cock’s inside you Derek. You’ve written so many great transformations... ready to write one more?”

“Huh?” I gasped. He was taking him time, really working my ass, and I had to admit I wasn’t listening that closely.

“Let’s start with your pecs,” he said, lowering his voice to a growl. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want...” I gasped, trying to write the story in realtime. “I want big heavy pecs. Round and bulging. Real muscle-tits....”

I could feel his hands on my average chest. To be real, I was on the skinny side. But as he fucked me, I could feel him starting to squeeze bigger and bigger handfuls of thick muscle. I glanced down from his grinning face and saw something impossible – my pecs were actually expanding into a pair of bulging muscle-tits. Big and heavy, the kind of thing that Instagram influencers aspire to.

“Holy shit,” I said, my eyes going wide. I flexed them and watched as my new pecs jumped up before settling back down heavily. Another flex and my left pec twitched. He reached down and twisted my nipple again – a bolt of lightning ran through me and lit my brain on fire.

“Derek finally gets it,” he grinned, watching a dozen conflicting emotions flash across my face. “I told you I got a magic cock.”

“Holy shit...” I repeated, still staring at my new chest. “I want abs. And big capped delts. And –“

“Whoa!” he interrupted. “Be patient boy... one thing at a time. There’s your abs,” he said, running his hand down my newly muscular torso. “And big capped delts... there we go.”

I couldn’t really see my delts, just glimpses of swollen muscle to either side of my head. But after those pecs... I was suddenly willing to trust in the process.

“What else?” he asked.

“I want muscular arms,” I said. “Peaked biceps and big heavy triceps.”

“As you wish,” he grinned. For a half-second, with a line like that, I wondered if he was a genie from one of my stories. Except those guys come from my horny fantasies. His magic cock was 100% real.

I held my arms up and watched them swell with muscle. The triceps were a work of art, big and heavy and packed with solid muscle. T-shirts weren’t gonna hide them, but honestly... I wasn’t gonna be wearing that many t-shirts now. Tanktops were my future.

“Let’s amp up the forearms too,” he said, filling in the details. “And we’ll give you big hands... big enough to palm a basketball. How about that?”

I watched as the changes worked their way down my arms. My arms were big and veiny now, the sort of arms you expect to see on a pro athlete or a porn star.

“How about your back?” he asked, giving me an evil grin, watching the greedy look on my face.

“Big and wide,”I answered without hesitation. I’ve spent a lot of time dreaming about this stuff. “Tapering down to my waist. I want that classic ‘V’ look. And big traps and a muscular neck too!”

I felt myself shifting on the bed as the new muscle pushed me up and away from the sheets. I could feel the fabric stretching as my back grew.

“Going for that meathead look, huh?” he chuckled. “I mean... you’re consistent.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I wanna look like a meathead. Gimme a big square jaw and a square face,” I gushed.

It hurt for a second when it happened. I squeezed my eyes shut to get through the pain, and then it was gone. One of my giant hands reached up and felt my new face. I couldn’t wait to find a mirror.

“Don’t forget leg day,” he suggested, continuing his rhythmic thrust. “I’m thinking muscular legs with a big bubble butt.” I grunted, feeling my ass growing around his cock, squeezing it even tighter.

“And big feet too,” I gasped.

My legs were over his shoulder, growing thicker and more muscular by the second. I thought about the dress pants I’d brought – they would have been shredded to pieces by now. I was turning into a fucking mountain. I was honestly surprised he could still hold my legs over his shoulders.

“Let’s get rid of your hair,” he said. “Everything below the beard.”

A weird prickling sensation spread over me. I stared with a slack jaw as the hair fell off my legs and drifted down to the floor. I did a half-crunch so I could see my cock sticking proudly into the air. It was bare, looking even bigger than its carefully measured eight inches.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, staring down at my new jock body.

I knew it was true. I could feel it in my bones. I needed to see a mirror.

“And that cock... you’re so horny,” he gasped.

If I thought I was turned on before, that was nothing compared to now. My cock was painfully hard. I hadn’t felt like that since the first time I discovered porn. I grabbed it with one of my meaty hands – the slightest touch was almost too much. All I cared about was pleasing it. I just needed to get off!

“Yeah,” he moaned, speeding up his thrusts. “You’ll do anything for your dick. You’re such a good slut, aren’t you bro? Just a big dumb bro with his horny little cock...”

And like everything else he said, it started to become true.

“Wait!” I yelped.

My cock was shrinking down, even as I held it. My once proud eight inches dwindled – I was loosing about an inch every second. It was no more than three inches once it finished. Still painfully hard and sensitive, but my days of hearing hookups say “Wow, you’ve got a great cock!” are over.

It was aching... and dude... I was so fuckin’ horny.

Like who cares how big it is? That’s just numbers and shit. I got a hot ass and big tits... everyone wants to fuck me!

“That’s it,” he grinned, staring down at my perfect face. “I love watching the lights go out.”

“Huh?”I asked, confused for real. I stared up at the bulb on the ceiling. “Bro... the lights are still on,” I laughed at his stupid comment.

“Fuck yeah!” he screamed. Whatever... I guess that did it for him. I felt his cock throb inside my tight hole. Jizz poured into my ass. I fuckin’ love that feeling bro...

Fuck yeah... I’m such a hot stud!

I grabbed my cock with a meaty paw and gave it a couple of quick jerks. That’s all it takes for my bull balls to explode all over me bro, I’m so fuckin’ horny all the time. Gimme a minute, I’ll be ready to go again. Maybe my dick’s not so big, but bro... my balls are fuckin’ huge.

“That was like... so hot Daddy,” I giggled as his cock dropped out of me. He was huge! At least six inches hard. I could feel his cum dripping out my hole. I was so lucky...

I wanted to high five someone.

“Come on,” he said, reaching his hand out and helping me up. I’m pretty big – 240 last time I weighed in – so I did most of the work. “Let’s shower off,” he said.

I felt super weird head to the bathroom. Like... the whole room felt smaller now or whatever. I mean, it’s not like we met up cause the room was awesome. I just needed that Daddy cock, y’know?

We both squeezed into the shower, but just barely. He let me open up the plastic package of soap and lather it over his sexy body. I scrubbed him down real good too. After a while he got out of the shower and I just stood there, relaxing under the hot steam.

When I finally stepped out I was happy and clean.

“All cleaned up?” he asked.

“Yes Daddy,” I smiled.

“Well you’ve still got my cum in you,” he smirked.

I giggled at the idea. I never woulda thought of that. He was so smart!

After he helped me dry off we went back into the main room. I wasn’t really sure what to do next... I mean, I wanted to stay and get fucked again, but maybe he had other plans.

“I bought you something,” he said, pulling a scrap of red fabric from his bag. He tossed it over to me and I snagged it out of the air. The shiny fabric stretched easily in my hands.

“It’s a thong!” I cheered happily.

“That’s right,” he said. “Put it on.”

I slipped the silky fabric up my smooth legs and let it nestle between my cheeks. The fabric engulfed my cock easily when I let the waistband snap against my tight abs. I loved it – it really showed off my adonis belt.

I never like... used to wear thongs, right? Like... they were always too tight on my cock. But this one was special! It fit perfect!

“Good boy,” he smirked again. “You don’t need to think... you’re just a big dumb bro!”

“With a horny little cock!” I shouted happily.

He didn’t fuck me again. After I put on the thong, he made me get dressed with the clothes from my bag. My jeans were like... way too tight, but I squeezed into them anyway. The fabric was stretching uncomfortably. And my t-shirt was like a second skin... and it didn’t even cover my abs!

Dude... I had to go shopping! I fucking loved shopping!

At least my ball cap fit me right – backwards of course, and sexy as fuck over my square jaw. I took a good long look in the mirror. I looked kind of silly with the stretched clothes, but I also looked pretty hot. A guy like me... I look hot in whatever bro.

I wanted to stay and play some more... Daddy’s cock is soooo sexy, and I wanted to ride it again right away. But he told me I had to wait!

“Now,” he said slowly enough for me to follow. “I want you to drive home. I want you to look in your bathroom mirror. And then I want you to snap your fingers.”

“Okay...” I nodded dumbly. I was good at following instructions now.

“And Derek... I want you to keep writing stories,” he said. “When you write one that’s hot enough, I’ll email you again and we can fuck.”

“But Daddy...” I whined, sticking out my lip and pouting. “I’m too dumb to write stories now....”

“Derek....?” he said, looking at me like a puppy that did something wrong.

“Okay,” I sighed, hanging my head. “I’ll write more stories.”

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I drove home, blasting dance music on the car stereo and working my tiny cock through the stretched fabric of my jeans. I’m so fuckin’ horny all the time...

I wanted to turn around and knock on his door again. But he said I had to wait and a boy like me doesn’t get to choose. I had to follow his instructions. I’m good at following instructions.

The cops didn’t even stop me. Too bad... I read a story once where the guy gets stopped and he gets to fuck the cop. Maybe a cop would fuck me if I begged really hard.

It was after midnight when If finally pulled into my parking spot and went upstairs. I did just what Daddy said – I looked in the mirror and I took a selfie. My beefy body, packed into clothes two sizes too small. It was like... so hot.

I looked so sexy. I felt so happy.

So just like Daddy said, I snapped my fingers. It took a fraction of a second, far too quick to notice on a conscious level – I just felt a rush of wind around me and... when I looked in the mirror, everything was gone. My muscled-up body, my glazed over eyes, my beautiful jawline... it was all just gone.

I snapped again, just to be sure, but nothing happened. I didn’t change back.

I was back to me. Plain, boring, regular me. Small and smart and nervous. I looked like I was playing dress-up in my bro outfit.

Except for my thong and my tiny cock, it might have been a dream.

But it wasn’t a dream. He used his cock and he fucked me into my fantasy. A hot musclebro with a horny cock and an empty head. I know it. And I know he can do it again.

So what do you think Daddy? Was this story hot enough?

Will you fuck my brains out?