Hey, so I’m a 6’1″ closeted gay guy and I need your help… I’m not attractive, nor am I ugly. I am neither fat, nor skinny. I wouldn’t call myself muscular, but I’m far from weak.
I’m scared to actually be who I am on the inside. Can you make me a very, very short, super attractive, high-key gay guy that can sleep with anyone I want?
The first time that you notice anything is wrong is when you let out a little giggle as you’re pumping your cock with a tight fist in front of the computer. You’re not sure where it comes from, but it’s definitely enough to get you to stop. You don’t stop for long, though. You were already on the edge. You just want to cum. And besides, the two twinks going at it on the screen really have your engine revving. So you splatter your bare chest with sticky white stuff and forget all about the weird sound you had just made.
The next time you notice something’s not quite right is when you’re signing up for your gym membership. Normally you can do mental math quite well, but for some reason you screwed up a relatively easy calculation and ended up overpaying by twenty bucks. You dismiss it as just being tired. After all, you’ve been staying up masturbating more than usual. You’re just pent up is all. You really need to get laid. The problem is doing that while staying in the closet.
For whatever reason, work seems to get a lot harder over the next few weeks. You’re just finding it hard to concentrate. To think. Tasks that used to take you at most 5 minutes are starting to take upwards of 20, and your boss has noticed the hit to your productivity. He suggests that you take a vacation, but you tell him you need the money. You would have quoted him a figure that it would cost you, but for whatever reason, you just can’t seem to come up with the number. Even though you know that you should know this.
It doesn’t take long after that before you get fired for goofing off too much. Although really, it’s a bit unfair because the only thing you’ve been doing is staring off into empty space and giggling to yourself. You don’t know what’s happening to you, but actually it’s not that bad. You should be afraid of the changes, but you just aren’t. If anything, you feel good about the fog that’s descended over your brain. You’re not overthinking as much anymore. In fact, you’re not thinking as much, period. It’s just so much better to live in the moment.
You start going to the gym more and more, of course. You love it. And your hard work is starting to show. Your body is looking hotter and hotter by the day. Your ass, especially. You could have sworn you saw more than a few guys staring the last couple weeks at the gym. You’re also pretty sure that you’re getting shorter, but you just can’t do the math anymore.
By the time that the news announces that a new virus known as the Bubble Boy Virus is making the rounds, the last time that you watched the news was a few months ago. The only reason that you even know about it is that one of the guys who’s regularly pounding your bubble butt tells you about it in the middle of sex. You’re not even sure why he thought it was worth mentioning.
A vapid empty headed slut like you doesn’t understand viruses. You don’t even know what it has to do with you. You’ve always been like this, slutty, horny, and empty-headed, your skull filled with bubbles that go pop and no thoughts whatsoever. Well, at least you think so. You don’t think so well these days. You don’t know any better.
All you do know is that you have a lot of guys coming over to use your butt, and you can’t be happier about it.