Racist’s Retribution

They didn’t mind him listening to the music. They didn’t mind him going to the concert. They didn’t mind, as much, that he was dressed like he was from the hood. But all the black people weren’t too shocked when Nate screamed out the n-word when singing along to the hit song. And you could definitely tell it was him, the twink having a distinct voice. Weirdly not nasally, but unique enough that he could be heard from across the warehouse. On the opposite side was a gang of three black men.

Nate would probably call them thugs, but they were actually hired by the singer to show racists some pain. They wouldn’t beat him up, but Nate would be in for the time of his life. Throughout the show, the three of them noticed a few other white people using the n-word, but Nate used it the most, by far, even after people kept telling him he shouldn’t. As the concert was beginning to end, the three made their way over to Nate. They flashed their name tags. Marcus, Andre, and Jamal all surrounded the young twink.

“He wants to see you backstage,” Marcus said, keeping his badge visible so that Nate knew he worked for the singer. Right after Marcus finished, though, Jamal took out a rag and shoved it into Nate’s face. The young twink thrashed and tried to escape, but the men blocked his path. The few other people who walked by were all black, and were thankful that the fucking bitch would get some punishment. Finally, Nate slumped unconscious, and the three of them took him to a safe house, way off the beaten path.

When Nate awoke, he was stark naked in a basement. There was only one flimsy lightbulb illuminating the entire floor. He felt around on his hands and knees until he finally found the staircase. He climbed up them and prayed the door was unlocked. It was, but standing in front of him were Marcus, Andre, and Jamal. All three of them were buck naked, like he was, and all three proved the claim that black was bigger.

“What the-”

“Shut the fuck up,” said Andre, abruptly cutting the twink off. “I hope that by the end of this, your bitch-ass knows that you can’t say the n-word, at all.”

“But-”

“No fuckin’ buts,” seethed Marcus. “If we ever get word that you utter that again, we will come and find you and fuck you up even more than we’re able to do right now.”

“I’m not-”

“Gay?” Jamal taunted. “Neither are we, bitch. But we know that getting a dick in a dude’s mouth is sometimes the only way to shut him the fuck up. Follow us.” Nate made a break for it, only to be met with an electric shock. As he writhed on the ground, Andre lorded over him with a little device in his hands.

“He sprung for the deluxe, and lightest, ankle monitor,” he explained, pointing at the thin strap around Nate’s heel. He hadn’t noticed it before. “Your sorry ass won’t be leaving until we’re done with you.” Nate then stood up and followed his three captors upstairs to the bathroom. The shower in there was one of those glass sliding versions, and attached to the inside was a dildo. A big black dildo, to be exact.

“Get on your knees and suck it,” Marcus said, simple and straight to the point.

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House Arrest

Thankfully, that bitch-ass judge recognized that I was only the getaway driver, and didn’t actually shoot and kill people, or rob a bank. Unfortunately, I got put under strict house arrest. The only people who could enter my house were my family members: Mom, Dad, and my older brother, Jack. We couldn’t host any parties, and Jack couldn’t bring his girlfriend to his house. Not that he cared. Mom and Dad were a bit strict about sex in the house, so I bet he was banging her pussy every chance he got.

And as for me? Well, I’m gay, but my dad is not hot in the slightest. Beer gut, too much stubble, and from what I’ve drunkenly heard from Mom, super small dick. I’m surprised Jack and I were even able to be born. But Jack, on the other hand, well I would bang him in a heartbeat. He’s got that short-cropped hair and just the right amount of stubble on his face. And he’s fit, but not too muscular, like some of the brutes in the gym.

He’s fucking straight, though, in case you didn’t know what pussy was. And we have a bit of a strained relationship, as he caught me sniffing some of his dirty underwear before. He didn’t tell Mom or Dad, but what he did say will forever be seared into my mind.

“If your little faggot ass tries to do some gay shit with my stuff again, I will end your worthless fucking life. And that is a threat.” His eyes and face told me he wasn’t fucking kidding. So, I kept to myself, as quite honestly, I would probably just become someone’s bitch boy in prison anyways. But now the circumstances had changed. Jack was the only person in my life that I could have sex with. And getting him to have sex with me would be pretty difficult. I couldn’t even talk with his girlfriend, Betty, at all. The judge gave me a fucking kiddy phone, with my three relatives’ numbers. I couldn’t add any more contacts, and it was literally just a phone. I couldn’t even fucking text!

I was allowed select internet access on my laptop, though, because even the fucking judge knew life was super boring without any electronics. I soon learned what sites I could and could not go too. I struggled for about half a day finding a porn site that had slipped through the protection software, and it was fixed the next day. However, some hypnosis sites were not blocked, including some ones with devious tracks.

I had taken to written erotica to get me off, ugh!, but found that hypnosis was actually used for this in a lot of different cases, and that shit actually fucking worked in real life! I was able to purchase a mp4 of exactly what I needed. The court also allowed me a debit card, and they carefully looked at all my balances. This one, however, had one of those cover-up names, so no one suspected what I was actually buying. And now came the hard part: how to get Jack to listen to this shit? My questions were answered when a few days later, he came home with an Amazon Alexa.

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Bulls on the Farm

It was just one measly punch, and he broke his bones, not the other way around. But Landon Allbright was expelled from Princeton, all because of a disagreement with a bone-headed jock and Princeton’s zero-tolerance policy. And what was even worse was that Landon’s chances of ever getting into any university again were slim to none. That expulsion would haunt him for the rest of his life, and it wasn’t like he could go to a community college to get his degree. He needed the complex pieces of machinery Princeton and the other top tier colleges had.

He could barely show his face back in his hometown in the Midwest. The town’s pride and joy was now a recluse. And because he didn’t have too many practical skills for his line of work, he couldn’t even get a job on his merits. He scoured the newspaper daily, for some kind of manual labor job that didn’t require him to be dirty and sweaty every day. His dad told him that finding a job like that out here was a fucking miracle, but it happened. Landon stumbled across a posting that fit exactly what he was looking for.

“Experiment subjects needed on a farm setting. Will be injected with various FDA-approved substances to see effects on human males. Must be under 5’10” and 175 lbs. No manual labor required for job; some minimal housework may be required.” Landon called up the number and got a meeting scheduled for a few days later. He checked the address, not recognizing it. As he suspected, it was more than a few miles from town, nothing he couldn’t handle, but one of those types of farms. He would have to get used to having no neighbors for a few days or weeks, however long the experiment lasted.

Landon arrived at the farm a half hour or so before he was supposed to. He entered the main building, and saw a few other men clustered in a small waiting room. Everyone looked pretty much like him: white, short, and skinny. Landon was the last to arrive, so the couple came out early. To everyone’s surprise, it was a gay couple, but it was clear they were Midwestern. Blond-haired husky men dressed only in overalls.

“Thank y’all for responding to the job posting! If you will follow us, we’ll have you do a group interview to see if you’re the right fit,” said one of the men. Landon noticed a ring on their fingers as they were led to the dining room. There, the married couple questioned all six men “interviewing”, and ascertained which ones would be the perfect fit. It seemed as though Landon was the only one who wouldn’t be sorely missed if they were gone, and so he was the only one that moved on.

“So, what are you putting in me?” he asked, once the couple escorted everyone else out.

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Military Obedience

Two highly different and unrelated problems. One unorthodox solution. The first problem that was the higher-ups in the military were itching for a hole to fuck. New rules said that they couldn’t use the native women in any way, even if the women themselves wanted to. They could still have cyber-sex with their wives and girlfriends, but the men agreed it just wasn’t the same, feeling a pussy encased around your cock. The men were open to any hole, male or female; just not each other. A report soon landed on the lead operative’s desk that would solve their problem.

Staff Sergeant Joey Millstone was starting to get on everyone’s nerves. A relatively fit young adult, he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch. He knew that going into the military would be better than going to college or doing those technical types of jobs. And from a physical standpoint, he was an excellent soldier. But he didn’t take orders too well. They weren’t sure if that was his personality, or he genuinely misunderstood them.

The final straw came when his commander literally screamed in his right ear that he had to clean the toilets. Thankfully not with a toothbrush, but when the commander checked on his progress, Joey was nowhere to be found. He was back in his bunk, jerking off to a porn magazine that he had bought in town. They eventually found him, and reprimanded him. The commander desperately wanted to kick Joey out of the military, but his second-in-command/secretary plopped a thick stack of documents on his desk.

“Commander Leander, I think this program will be perfect for someone like Millstone. We’re testing out advanced hypnotic tracks that will turn into our enemies into bottom bitches.”

“Like, sexual bottoms?”

“Yes, sir. They’ll become so fucking horny, they’ll stop fighting! It’s still in the testing stages, and it’s military-sanctioned, so we don’t have to resort to under-the-table nonsense.”

“Where do I sign?” Millstone soon had to pack up his things and leave the base. He wasn’t going home just yet, as his commander had apparently signed him up for some bizarre medical trial. At least he wasn’t going to be dishonorably discharged, and so he showed up at the sterile white and imposing building. A bunch of doctors were scurrying around inside, and he had to fight to get to the front desk.

“Staff Sergeant Millstone, reporting for clinical trial, um, I have it on my phone.”

“I can look it up for you here, hon. Let’s see, Staff Sergeant Joey Millstone?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Room 284, four doors down the hall on the right.”

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How I Fucked My Father

Yes, I’ve fantasized about fucking my father. And if you saw him, you would want to fuck him too! Rico Allende was second-in-command at the town’s only construction company. He was their on-the-ground chief, and so dealt with manual labor still. That meant he was pretty jacked for a fifty-year-old. And me, Jorge? Well, I’m definitely not as fit as my father by a long shit, but I’m in relatively healthy shape. I’m a 19-year-old who’s not in college. That shit’s not for me, but neither is manual labor. Also, my mom died recently. I know I’m springing a lot of shit on you at once, but Dad thinks I’m still grieving, which is fine with me.

But back to my daddy fantasies. I’ve of course seen him shirtless before, and super sweaty. He’s a boxers guy, and sometimes that’s all he’ll wear around the house on a hot summer night. And like every horny teen, I take his underwear from the hamper and jerk off to it. His smell is so manly, a mix of sweat, pre-cum, and dirt makes get me hard no matter what. I’m careful to only jerk off when he’s not home, and I always hide my evidence.

Like most dudes who want to fuck their dad, it’s not easy. Rico isn’t gay by a longshot, and while he is getting better with the LGBTQ+ community, he still doesn’t want me bringing my boyfriends home with me. And approaching him about incest? That would be out of the picture, and I’d be out on the streets before I could finish that sentence. So, I did what every horny teen my age did, and scoured the dark web. I wanted something that worked perfectly, but also be pretty simple, because I totally admit, I am one lazy ass motherfucker.

I soon stumbled across hypnosis. It seemed like the perfect plan. For most, I didn’t need to do anything except get him to listen to the track! I found some that would work out perfectly, but all of them were based on today’s top hits. The only problem was that Dad hated all of today’s music. If he wanted to listen to music, which was quite rare, he put on some Selena. And no, not Selena Gomez, Selena Quintanilla.

Try as I might, no hypnotic tracks were laced in with her music. However, one of them did have a nice ambiance effect. Dad had invested in surround speakers after hearing good things about it from his friends. They were mostly turned on for fútbol games, but I knew how to link it up so that a soft, but hypnotic, track would continuously play. I paid a bit extra for the track to only work on my father, which was well worth the extra cost in the long run.

A few days later, I finally had the track in my possession. I got to work setting it up and started playing it in the living room. It was nice and subtle, noticeable if you were listening for it, but pure background noise if you weren’t. Rico, the Madrid superfan, had two speakers close to his head by his favorite chair so that he wouldn’t miss any of the action, so that would make sure he heard it. Then came the long game of waiting for the hypnosis to work. Subtle hypnosis took a whole lot longer than direct, but I noticed a few changes in Dad over time.

He was no longer disgusted by gay sex scenes on TV, and stopped disparaging transgender individuals. Eventually, he even told me it was fine if I brought my boyfriend home with me! I was stoked for the changes, but still not the one that I wanted to see. The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place one Saturday, when our schedules were ironically mixed. Rico would be staying home all day to watch the games, while I was hanging out with some friends. We did nothing bad or illegal, but it was probably an utter waste of my time. However, I was in for a surprise when I walked through my front door.

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Making the Team

Brighton Academy was known for one thing, and that was their soccer team. Their name was non-indicative of higher learning, but Brighton was a college, and its classes were simple and easy to pass. That allowed the student athletes, which was most of the Academy, more time to excel in soccer. The only problem was that Brighton had been created by a British expatriate, and he thought the best college sport was actually soccer, using the annoying American terminology of its actual name, football.

It was much too late when he realized that they were referring to American football in all of those studies, the sports with the pads and the goalposts. While Brighton was still able to field an impressive team, the costs of scouting them and paying the staff was much higher than he would have thought, and he was draining his reserves much quicker than he should have. So, he decided to add yet another thing to the long and daunting checklist needed for an application to Brighton.

Jax Hollister was one of Michigan’s best soccer players by far. He was MVP of his league every year since freshman year, and had even been invited to join the Junior Olympic team! He wasn’t too smart, though, and so thought nothing of it when the application asked him to film a specific type of video for the application. One Saturday afternoon, he sat on his bed dressed in his soccer uniform, and with a fleshlite by his side. He pressed play on the video camera, and then began talking.

“Hello! My name is Jax Hollister, and this is the video part of my application to Brighton. As requested, here I am in my uniform, and here is me flexing my upper body.” The dumb jock didn’t take his clothes off as he flexed his biceps and abs, making them pop. However, this was what the admissions team at Brighton was looking for. “And now for the next part. I am a boxers type of dude, but that’s because my parents still buy me that shit. I would open to wearing jocks or g-strings if I get accepted.” Jax was taking off his bottoms as he talked about underwear. He didn’t exactly know what a g-string was, but he at least knew to go along with it.

“As you can see, my dick is circumcised and about three inches flaccid. The application asked us to get unique here, and I’m using my dad’s fleshlite to jerk off. I’ve stolen it a few times before, and honestly, it makes it feel so much fucking better.” Jax at least knew it was a bit weird to be jerking off on a video that would be sent into college, but the thought of going to Brighton for soccer overpowered.

He lubed up his cock and slid the fleshlite on. “FUCK!” he moaned, as the pussy lips met his cockhead and began opening up to fit his massive cock. Once he got into a rhythm, and after some more moaning and groaning, he began talking to the camera again.

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Office Himbos

HR complaints of sexual abuse were not to be taken lightly, and Carli Atkins had video proof that Austin Bradford had inappropriately touched her, made lewd comments, and even attempted an upskirt photograph. However, HR was in a bit of a conundrum.

“Ms. Atkins, we fully understand and empathize with your complaint, and do not take it lightly. However, Mr. Bradford has been the top seller at our company for quite some time, and he has an important client base. If we let him go, then the business will be ruined.”

“So, you’re letting some white guy go scot-free just because ‘it’s best for the company’? I’m fucking leaving!” Carli announced, in a huff.

“Ms. Atkins, please sit back down. We have another solution that is promising.”

“What is it?” she asked the HR lady, sitting back down. “Do I still have to work with him?”

“Yes, but not for long. A company that sprung up in the post #MeToo era, Office Himbos, is on retainer for our company. We haven’t had to use them yet, but this seems like a prime opportunity.”

“And what do they do? And what’s a himbo?”

“A himbo is a male bimbo, and they slowly but surely change men into himbos. One of the hallmarks of a himbo, much like a bimbo, is their dumbness. So, in the early stages, you’ll have to deal with him, but rest assured, he’ll be on the most accelerated path possible.”

“And then he’ll have to be let go?”

“Eventually. The himbo powder, or pills, will cause his IQ to drop well below average.”

“Great! What else do I need to do on my end?”

“The cost will be deducted from your paycheck, but they’re honestly not too expensive. And you need to sign a waiver saying you’re okay with the sexist and demeaning things continuing for a little bit until the himboification starts to take effect.”

“Deal!” Carli practically screamed. Yes, she would have to deal with that treacherous leach of a man for a few more days, but it would be well-worth it in the long run. And her current boyfriend could afford to pick up a few more shifts to make up for her “slacking”.

A couple days later, Carli received a ping from HR. “It’s begun.” A private email detailed that some of Austin’s pills had been replaced with himbo pills. There would be no harmful side effects, only a change into a himbo. Austin didn’t notice too much of a change at first. He was still focused on his soon-to-be conquest, Carli. He swore her pussy throbbed when he attempted to take that pic of her panties. And what woman wouldn’t want to date a stud like him?

The first change was the selection of pornos he watched. He was scrolling through a random selection when he came across a guy that looked fucking hot. That meant a fucking hot girl was soon to come, but Austin quickly found it was a gay porno. That Alam Wernik hunk was damn hot, and he bet he could look like that someday. He mindlessly jerked off to it, but went back to solely straight porn afterwards.

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