Himbo Shots

Christina still hated every second of being in the same elevator as her soon-to-be-ex. Josh kept sneaking looks at her tits like he had any remaining claim on them. She wanted the house, the alimony, and him gone. The “Happy Endings Divorce Mediation Services – A Division of BTI” plaque should have been a red flag the size of a billboard, but she was too pissed to care.

The receptionist was still that vacant, silicone-enhanced Asian girl with the permanent soft smile and the brain of a golden retriever in heat. Peegu. She giggled when she buzzed them in, tits bouncing under her tiny top. The mediator, Wallace Warren, was the same round-faced creep with the wire-rim glasses and the too-wide grin.

They sat. Christina got the normal chair this time. Josh got the special one—the black leather thing with the straps and the thick cord running back into the closet. He didn’t even notice until the cuffs closed around his wrists and ankles with soft, final clicks.

“Ow—hey, what the fuck—”

Warren was already at the controls. A low, wet buzz started at the base of Josh’s skull. His eyes went glassy. His mouth fell open a little. A thin thread of spit already threatened to drip from his lower lip.

“There we go,” Warren murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “Much more comfortable now, aren’t you, Josh?”

“...yeah. Comfortable.” Josh’s voice had already lost half its edge. His cock twitched hard inside his pants, visibly thickening against the fabric.

Christina watched, arms folded, more curious than alarmed. Whatever this place was, it was clearly designed to rewrite people. Fine. Let it rewrite *him*.

Warren smiled at her like they were already co-conspirators. “The core problem in this marriage is simple. Josh has been using his cock like it belongs only to him. He’s been putting it in other women. That’s not fair. So we’re going to adjust the ownership structure.”

Josh’s breathing got heavier. The machine hummed louder, a deep, pulsing vibration that seemed to sink straight into his balls.

“You’re going to become the kind of husband Christina actually wants,” Warren continued, voice smooth and filthy. “A big, strong, simple himbo. Pretty face. Thick muscles. Even thicker cock. And almost nothing upstairs except the desperate need to please her. You’re going to stop thinking so hard. Thinking is for Christina. Your job is to look good, stay hard, and fuck when she tells you to. Understand?”

Josh’s hips twitched against the chair. A wet spot was already spreading at the front of his pants. “Y-yeah... understand...”

“Good boy. Say it.”

“I’m... gonna be her himbo. Pretty. Strong. Dumb. Cock for Christina.”

Warren dialed it up. Josh’s already decent body started changing under his clothes—shoulders broadening with a slow, rolling stretch of muscle, chest thickening until the buttons of his shirt strained and popped one by one. His jaw squared off, lips plumped fuller, cheekbones sharpening into something almost pretty. The front of his pants strained harder, the outline of his cock becoming lewd and unmistakable. Christina’s eyes flicked down and stayed there longer than she meant to. Her pussy clenched.

“You’re going to love being dumb,” Warren crooned. “Thoughts sliding right out of your head like cum down a throat. All that space opening up for one idea: make Christina cum. You’ll forget how to argue. You’ll forget how to lie. You’ll forget every other woman’s name. The only name that matters is hers. When she wants cock, you give it. When she wants to watch you fuck someone else while she directs, you do that too. When she wants you on your knees with your tongue out like a good dumb dog, that’s what you become.”

Josh moaned, low and slutty. His eyes had gone soft and shiny. A thick string of drool collected at the corner of his mouth and finally broke free, sliding down his chin. His cock was fully hard now, tenting his ruined pants obscenely, the head already leaking a dark stain through the fabric.

Christina’s pulse was thudding between her legs. She should have been disgusted. Instead she was soaked.

Warren glanced at her. “You can take over anytime. The machine’s locked onto him now. Tell him what you want him to be.”

She stood, walked over, and looked down at the man who used to be her cheating husband. His cock was visibly throbbing against his zipper, a thick, heavy ridge that looked almost painful. His expression was pure, vacant hunger.

“I want him stronger,” she said, voice low. “Bigger arms. Bigger chest. That stupid gym-bro body he always pretended he had. And I want his cock bigger. Noticeably. The kind of cock a dumb himbo should have. Thick. Veiny. Heavy. The kind that makes a wet sound when it slaps against a stomach.”

Warren adjusted dials. Josh groaned as his body obeyed—muscles swelling under the remaining scraps of his shirt, arms thickening until the fabric split completely, chest rising into heavy, rounded pecs. His pants tore at the seams with a series of sharp rips. His cock surged longer and thicker, the head pushing free of the waistband, flushed dark and already shiny with precum. It looked almost obscene against his new body—too big, too heavy, the kind of cock that belonged on a man whose only job was to use it.

Christina’s mouth went dry. Her cunt was dripping down her thighs.

“And the brain,” she continued, voice lower, almost a growl. “I want almost nothing left. Just enough to follow orders and get hard on command. Make him proud of how dumb he is. Make him get off on being used. Make him leak every time I call him my dumb himbo slut.”

Josh’s head lolled. A wet, broken sound left his throat. “Dumb... yeah... dumb for you... fuck...”

“Perfect.” Christina leaned in close, close enough to smell the heat rolling off his skin. “From now on, you don’t get to decide when you come. I do. You don’t get to fuck anyone unless I say so. And when I do let you, you’re going to thank me for every thrust like the grateful, empty-headed slut you’re becoming. Understand, himbo?”

Josh’s eyes rolled back a little. The machine pulsed hard. A thick rope of precum pulsed out of his cock and dripped onto the floor. “Yes, Christina. Thank you. I’ll be good. I’ll be dumb. Cock’s yours. Please... please use it...”

Warren unstrapped him. Josh stood on slightly unsteady legs, clothes in ruins, body transformed into pure fuck-toy muscle and cock. He looked at Christina with pure, worshipful vacancy and a hard-on that could punch through drywall. His heavy balls hung low and full, already drawn up tight with need.

She felt the last of her anger curdle into something hotter and meaner and infinitely wetter.

“On your knees,” she said.

Josh dropped so fast his knees hit the carpet with a thud. Mouth open. Tongue out. Waiting. His massive cock stood straight up between his thick thighs, twitching with every heartbeat, a steady stream of precum sliding down the underside.

Christina stepped closer, kicked her heels off, and hiked her skirt up. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Her pussy was flushed, lips shiny and parted, clit already swollen. She grabbed a fistful of Josh’s new, thicker hair and pulled his face straight into her cunt.

“Lick,” she ordered. “Slow. Deep. Like the dumb, grateful himbo you are.”

Josh moaned into her like he’d been starving. His broad tongue dragged up through her folds, thick and wet and eager, collecting every drop of her arousal. He licked again, slower, pressing deeper, the flat of his tongue flattening against her clit before sliding lower to push into her hole. Christina’s hips jerked. She held him there by the hair and rolled her cunt against his face.

“That’s it. Good boy. Taste how wet you made me. All that dumb muscle and that fat cock and that empty head—fuck—just for me.”

Josh’s hands stayed obediently on his thighs. His cock throbbed untouched, leaking steadily onto the carpet in thick, clear strands. Every time Christina called him dumb, another pulse of precum oozed out. He licked harder, messier, tongue fucking into her with wet, obscene sounds while he moaned like a whore. Spit and her juices ran down his chin, dripping onto his heavy pecs.

Christina rode his face for long, filthy minutes, grinding, smearing herself across his mouth and nose, using him. When her thighs started to shake she yanked his head back by the hair. His face was shiny and wrecked, lips swollen, eyes glassy with pure himbo worship.

“On your back,” she ordered. “Now.”

Josh scrambled to obey, dropping onto the carpet, thick legs spread, that ridiculous cock standing straight up like a fucking flagpole. The head was dark and shiny, veins standing out along the thick shaft. Christina straddled him, reached down, and rubbed the fat head through her soaked folds, painting it with her slick.

“Look at this stupid, perfect cock,” she breathed. “All mine now. You’re not allowed to think about anything except how good it feels when I use it. Understand?”

“Yes—fuck—yes, Christina—please—”

She sank down onto him in one long, wet slide.

The stretch was immediate and intense. His new cock was thicker than anything she’d taken in years, heavy and hot, forcing her open inch by inch until her ass met his hips and she was fully seated. She stayed there for a moment, breathing hard, feeling him throb inside her like a second heartbeat. Josh’s mouth hung open. His eyes had gone completely vacant. A broken, grateful moan spilled out of him.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for using my cock. Thank you for letting me be your dumb himbo. Fuck—so full—”

Christina started to ride.

She took him deep and hard, rising until only the fat head stretched her open, then dropping back down with a wet, filthy slap of skin. Every thrust punched a moan out of both of them. Her tits bounced under her blouse. She tore it open, freed them, and pinched her own nipples while she fucked herself on his cock. Josh’s hands stayed glued to the floor like he’d been ordered to keep them there. His hips twitched up helplessly, trying to bury himself deeper every time she sank down.

“That’s it,” she panted. “Take it. Take every inch like a good, empty-headed slut. Your only job is this cock. Your only thought is making me cum on it.”

Josh’s face twisted with pure, stupid bliss. “Yes—only job—only thought—please cum on my cock—please use me—”

She rode him harder. The wet sounds of her cunt taking him over and over filled the office. Peegu the receptionist had wandered in at some point and was watching with vacant, glassy eyes, one hand idly squeezing her own heavy tit. Warren just smiled and adjusted a few more dials, locking the changes in permanently.

Christina felt her orgasm building, hot and heavy low in her belly. She leaned forward, braced her hands on Josh’s thick chest, and fucked herself on him with short, brutal strokes, grinding her clit against the base of his cock every time she bottomed out.

“You’re going to cum when I say,” she snarled. “Not before. You’re going to fill me up like a good himbo breeding slut and thank me for it. Understand?”

“Yes—yes—please—I’ll wait—I’ll be good—”

She came first.

Her cunt clamped down hard around him, pulsing, gushing around the thick shaft as she cried out and kept riding through it. The wet sounds turned louder, messier. Josh’s face crumpled with the effort of holding back. His cock throbbed violently inside her, balls drawn up tight and heavy.

“Now,” she ordered, still shaking. “Fill me. Now.”

Josh came with a broken, grateful shout.

Thick, hot ropes of cum pumped into her, pulse after pulse, so much it started leaking out around his cock almost immediately. He kept thrusting up weakly, trying to bury every drop as deep as he could, moaning thank-yous the entire time. Christina stayed on him until the last spasm faded, then slowly lifted off. A thick river of his cum immediately slid out of her and dripped onto his stomach.

She looked down at him—ruined, empty-eyed, still hard, covered in their mixed fluids—and smiled.

“Good himbo.”

Josh just stared up at her with pure, worshipful vacancy, tongue slightly out, cock still twitching and leaking onto his abs.

Christina decided she was definitely keeping him.

Warren cleared his throat, still smiling. “I’ll just... draft the new agreement. It’ll be very short. Mostly pictures of his new body. And a long list of ways you’re allowed to use it.”

Christina wiped two fingers through the mess between her legs, then pushed them into Josh’s open mouth. He sucked greedily, eyes rolling back.

“Make it a very long list,” she said.

Josh moaned around her fingers, already hard again, already waiting for the next order.