A Metaphor for Kyle

By Derek Williams - derek.williams.comments@hotmail.com
published October 19, 2020
7219 words
Summary

Kyle and I made a bet - we each picked an elective for the other, and whoever gets the higher mark wins.

“This is some weird shit man,” Kyle said, scrolling down his laptop has he checked out the website. “All this dumbing down shit, I don’t get why anyone gets off on this. I mean, whatever gets you hard, right? But some of these stories look so stupid.”

“Hey, you made the bet,” I said, reminding him that this was unequivocally his fault.

“Yeah, well, you picked this fucked up class,” he shot back.

If we weren’t roommates, I doubt he’d even have known that Dumbing Down: Intelligence Loss in Gay Erotica was an elective you could take. But in our last year of college, we both had a few credits to finish up, so we made a bet: each of us picks an elective for the other, and whoever gets a worse grade has to clean the whole apartment when we move out.

It was the kind of stupid bet you make with your best friend in college. Ever since we’d been dorm mates in first year, Kyle and I had been inseparable. Even when I came out last year, it hadn’t changed a thing. We were both total nerds - he was short and fat, I was tall and skinny, and neither of us knew where to find the acne cream. Only one more semester and we were going to graduate together as engineers

But first he were going to read a bunch of gay porn from some website. I looked at the image at the top of the page and grimaced. It showed a zoned out pretty boy in some kind of mind control machine. Kinda hot, though Kyle liked his porn to have a chick with big tits.

Whatever – I was going to win this bet, fair and square. Even if he was making me take Sports in Society.


“Hey man, how was Jock 101,” Kyle joked with me, coming in out of the rain and stripping off his coat. It was one of those January days where the sky just seems like it’ll never stop. I’d been home for an hour, had taken a hot shower to relax, and was sitting on the couch studying my book for the mechatronics class I was taking.

“So fuckin’ weird,” I said, rolling my eyes dramatically. “It’s like me and a dozen guys who should all be out making out in a locker room somewhere.”

“Hah, in your dreams man,” Kyle said with a smirk.

“Totally. How was Porn class?”

"It was actually kinda cool. Professor York started out all boring, just droning on and on and on about how you were only gonna get out of the class what you put in… you know the speech.”

“No way,” I said. “Professor York’s teaching my elective too. The guy sure gets around.”

“Yeah, totally. So then we started talking about the reading, this story called “Sinners and Saints”, and specifically like, the second chapter. And he started to break down the themes in it. Said that it was about being more cheerful and enthusiastic.”

“That’s weird for porn,” I said. “Isn’t it supposed to be about getting your rocks off?”

“Yeah but this class, it’s all about how different stories use someone getting dumber as a metaphor for something. Like this guy in this story, Andrew, he turns into this ditzy cheerleader kinda dude, who just wants to shop for cute clothes and get fucked by the best jocks or whatever, right? And so Professor York says that it’s actually a metaphor for Andrew learning how to get out of his negative attitude and focus on the positive.”

“And that get’s people off?” I asked.

“Well.. kinda,” Kyle said. “I guess that the story gives some escape. I gotta admit, I was totally grossed out by it when I read it the first time, but I read it again after class and I think Professor York is really on to something.”

“Cool,” I said. “Look, I gotta study this,” I said pointing at my book. “You gonna want to hang out here, or…?”

“I’m good wherever,” Kyle said with a grin, plopping down on the couch near me and loading up the website. I guess he wanted to get his homework done early.


On Thursday, Kyle gets home before me. I found him sitting on the couch, watching some TV. He had a dopey grin on his face, zoned out watching some old action movie.

“Rough day?” I asked. Kyle wasn’t the kind of guy who spent a lot of time watching anything but sci-fi.

“Nah, pretty good,” he said. “You wanna watch somethin’ else?”

“I’m good,” I said. “Ready to give up on the bet yet?” I asked hopefully. My Sports in Society class was so dull.

“No way,” he grinned. “We were talking today about how dumbing down can be a metaphor for relaxation. Like a guy gets dumb, and it’s not a curse or anything, it’s just this pleasant dullness. Like, the reading was this story called “No Shirt, No Service” where this tight-ass art gallery clerk gets turned into a surfer stud, and the whole thing is just this metaphor for how you can just be like… I dunno, I guess you can be dull and be cool with it.”

“That’s such a weird class,” I said to my grinning roommate. “Is it just a lecture or…?”

“Well, like, first Professor York asks everyone what they thought the story was about. And most of the guys are like ‘getting off’ or ‘turning a guy hot’ or whatever. I mean, I think most of my classmates are gay, y’know? But then he just starts talking and talking and man the next thing you know he’s explained all about like… the metaphor man.”

In my phone, my phone buzzed. I’d installed a couple apps to help me understand what was going on in my Sports in Society class, and tonights football game had just gone into overtime.

“Hey, change the channel man, I wanna watch this,” I said, tossing my phone to Kyle.

He just grinned lazily and reached for the remote.


Next Tuesday, I was trying to stay focussed on my Project Management homework - it’s such a boring class, but they make engineers take it - and my mind just kept drifting. I had an old basketball game playing on YouTube, and my attention kept getting grabbed by some seriously sweet action on the court. I mean, they don’t put it on YouTube if it’s not a good game.

Kyle wandered in, looking like a drowned rat who died happy. He threw his jacket on the floor and ducked into the bathroom to grab a towel. A minute later he draped that over the back of the couch and headed for the kitchen.

“Hey man, wanna beer?” he called out.

“It’s like 3:30,” I laughed back.

“So what? Live a little,” he grinned. I heard two caps pop off the bottles and he carried a cold bottle over to the table where I was studying.

“Cheers,” he said, clinking the bottle in my hand.

“Good day?” I asked, keeping my eye on the game while I took a long pull from my drink.

“Yeah man. Professor York is like… the best. He was telling us today how sometimes getting dumb in fiction is about like, escaping the everyday grind. Like, we read this story called “Deconstruction” about this accountant guy who gets dumbed down until he’s just an assistant at a construction site. Dude hated his gig, and now he’s got something sweet where he just gets to do real work, not just play with numbers and shit all day.”

“Fuck man,” I said, “Wish that’d happen to me. This shit sucks,” I said, tossing my pencil on the textbook.

“Yeah man, me too,” Kyle grinned. “But it’s just like, a metaphor.”

We ended up hooking my computer up to the TV and watching the rest of the game over a couple beers. It kinda bugged me that I was ditching my homework. Kyle didn’t seem to mind.


When I came home Thursday, Kyle was…. different.

“Hey man, what’s up?” I asked, cautiously looking at my roommate. He was lying on the couch with a beer, watching some surf documentary with a glazed look in his eyes. His hair had lightened and lengthened, now a shoulder length sandy blonde instead of the short brown it had been the whole time I’d known him. He was wearing a baggy tank over his skinny torso and board shorts that hugged his powerful ass. I’d never seen him wearing anything close to that. I’d never seen his body looking anything close to that.

It was Kyle, but not the Kyle I knew. I don’t know why I didn’t freak out.

“Hey dude,” he said in a casual tone. “Super weird day.”

“Yeah?” I asked, shrugging off my jacket and taking a seat next to him. My Tebow jersey was in sharp contrast to his beachwear. Weird that he’d decide to dress like that. And had his muscle always been that defined?

“Yeah, like instead of our regular lecture, Professor York called everyone into his office one at a time. We had to do like, an oral exam where we broke down the archetype of the surfer. Brah, it’s like duh, it’s everything we learned so far. The surfer is, like, a metaphor for a dude who’s cheerful and enthusiastic, relaxed. Someone who’s escaped the everyday grind, you know right?” Kyle explained.

“That’s a good way to look at it,” I said, agreeing with his analysis.

“So then the freaky thing happens. Professor York’s like ‘so clearly you got this,’ and then he leans in and kisses me bruh. And we made out for like five minutes. And then he just sent me out of his office like nothing happened, just pats me on the ass and tells me to send in the next guy.”

“Super weird,” I said. “But I gotta say, I sorta expected it. We had the same kinda thing today too, except I had to talk about the role of a sports fan in western society.”

“No shit,” Kyle said. “This guy has, like, a super weird teaching style.”

“Totally,” I agreed. “Kinda hot though So… your first time kissing a guy, huh?”

“Yeah bruh, but no homo right? It was like, for a class.”

I grabbed a beer too and we talked for a while, even after I made Kyle switch the TV over to TSN. It wasn’t too long before the new Kyle just seemed normal.


The next Tuesday, Kyle was already home by the time I got there. I’d stopped into the gym after school and played some basketball with the guys from my class. Even though basketball isn’t really my game, it was cool getting to know them. At first I thought they were all just meathead jocks, but they’re actually kinda cool.

“Hey Kyle,” I said, shaking off my coat and dropping my gym bag. “Good day?”

“Dude, it was so sick,” my surfer roommate laughed. “Professor York was talking about this story, “Envying Edward”, where this dude Eddie gets dumb and slutty. And he told us all about how it’s like, the dumbness is a metaphor for getting less inhibited,” Kyle said, sliding his hand down below the band of his shorts and adjusting his junk.

“That kinda makes sense,” I said, grabbing a gatorade from the fridge. “Like if you aren’t smart, you don’t think stuff through the same way. So you don’t get in your own way I guess.”

“Yeah man,” Kyle said, sitting up. “Like, he said that that’s why hedonism goes with dumbing down, you know? Cause you don’t keep second guessing yourself and you just give in to your like… base impulses and stuff.”

“Professor York’s such a smart guy,” I said.

“Yeah. What about your class with him. How’d it go?”

“He was talking about the role of the amateur athlete in society. You know, like high school jocks and guys at the gym and stuff like that. Said that they’re contributing in a really meaningful way by being the personification of hard work in pursuit of a goal.”

“That’s a really awesome way to think about it,” Kyle grinned, giving my body a thorough once over. He might be straight, but even straight boys get jealous of these guns.


Thursday morning, we were getting ready to head out when Kyle said “Hey man, remember, today’s the add/drop date. You still cool with our bet? We could both save some tuition if you’re really not digging your class.”

“Nah,” I said. “Truth be told, I’m actually kinda starting to enjoy it. Plus the guys there are fun to hang with, you know?”

“Sick,” Kyle said. “I’m loving mine too, thought I should give you the out though, you know?”

“Thanks man,” I said. “Look, I gotta run, if I catch the early bus there’s an ultimate game in the quad, so…”

I didn’t see Kyle again until later that evening. I’d gone to the gym after class and then I ended up just hanging out in the hot tub with the guys talking shit for waaaaay too long. By the time I got home, he must have gave up on expecting me. He was on the couch, hand down his pants, watching some porn with two ripped dudes teaming up on this chick. He was totally oblivious to my entry.

“Hey man,” I called as I ducked into the bathroom. My hair needed a quick touch-up after the rain outside, but I was still looking good in my track pants and hoodie. I’m not that vain or anything, I just wanted to give him fair warning that I was gonna come into the room.

“Oh hey bruh,” he called back. I heard the porn click off and the Sports Centre music come on. I shot out of the bathroom to catch the highlights.

“You’re lookin’ good,” Kyle said, giving me a big smile. “Fun day?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah man,” I said, watching one hell of a pass. “How ‘bout you?”
 “It was so sweet man,” Kyle gushed. “I was in York’s class, right, and he was talking about this story called “Extreme Changeover” that’s about this asshole who gets dumbed down and it’s like this metaphor for a less complicated life. Like this dude is all pretentious and shit, and by the end he’s just about dick and muscle.”

“That doesn’t gross you out?” I asked. “Reading stories about dick?”

“Why bruh? I got one right here,” Kyle grinned, grabbing his still hard cock through his board shorts. “Besides, I’m learning how hot some of this stuff is… you don’t gotta be gay to know a dude’s hot, you know,” he said giving me a smirk.

“You hitting on me?” I asked.

“Nah man, just fucking with you,” Kyle teased me. There was an awkward pause before he said, “Hey, you wanna hear something super weird I did today?”

“What’s that?”

“I went to the registrar and I dropped like… almost all my classes. Like, I kept my class with Professor York, but everything else just seemed like a super dumb thing to waste time on, you know? Like when am I gonna use project management?”

I laughed. “No way man, I was trying to figure out how to tell you. I went to the registrar too today, but I switched a bunch of my classes. Now I’m taking Sports Nutrition and Coaching Studies and that kind of stuff.”

“No way bruh, that’s awesome!” Kyle shouted, reaching over and pounding me on the back.

“Yeah… it’s just like… the same classes that the guys in my Sports in Society class are taking, and they’re all so cool. I just wanted to hang with them, you know?”

“I get you bruh. That’s why I kept York’s class. Everyone there is just like… on the same wavelength,” Kyle said enthusiastically.


“Hey man, how was class,” I asked Kyle. It was Tuesday night, and we were both home for once. I was doing meal prep, weighing out grilled chicken into sealed containers. Kyle was playing video games, his legs spread wide to accommodate his half-hard dick.

“The best bruh,” Kyle laughed. “York had us read this story called “Mimbo Drops” about this straight guy who gets slipped this drug by his gay buddy and ends up gettin’ dumbed down til he’s nothing but a musclebound gay whore. It was so hot… like, Yorkie said that the gettin’ dumber was like, a metaphor for getting out of your head and not overthinking everything. It was like… so relevant.”

“Yeah? How’s that?” I asked, putting the broccoli on to steam.

“Like… I’ve been way in my head lately, and York’s right, sometimes you just gotta get outta your head and make a move.”

I turned around from the counter and found Kyle standing there, about three inches from my face. Before I could react, he pressed his lips to mine and kissed me deeply.

“Whoa,” I said, when he stepped back and gave me that relaxed grin of his.

“Yeah bruh, whoa’s right,” Kyle said. He reached down and adjusted his package, now obviously at full mast. “Sorry… thought you’d be cool with it. I just been thinkin’ I wanted that for the last couple weeks. Kinda ever since I kissed York, you know?”

“You’re into me?” I asked.

“I mean, like, I want to make out with you and shit man. You’re a pretty hot dude,” he said gesturing at my body. I was wearing my Spurs jersey and a pair of adidas track pants, and yeah, it’s a good look for me. Besides, I hadn’t showered off after the gym, so he could probably still smell the sweat.

“Then go park your ass on the couch and play video games for a while,” I said. “I gotta finish my meal prep, but then you’re gonna get what you want.”

“Fuuuuck…. bruh that’s so boring,” Kyle whined. “Fine, but don’t make me wait too long for your hot ass.”

We made out for over an hour before I showered and went to bed. Gotta get those eight hours.


When I came home Thursday, Kyle was…. different.

First off, he wasn’t on the couch with a beer. But two other guys were, while Kyle was in the bathroom carefully styling his hair.

“Hey man,” I said. “What’s with the crew?”

“Oh hey!” Kyle said, jumping out of the bathroom. He was wearing a pair of short shorts that didn’t do much to hide his bulge, and a blue and red tank that looked like it had been painted on. His hair was close to its normally messy blond, but he’d clearly added product to give it more bounce and shine.

“These are some of the guys from my class. This here’s Tyler,” he said pointing to a redhead with a mellow grin and big green eyes. Tyler gave me a thirsty glance, really enjoying the way my varsity jacket made my shoulders look even more jacked than they already are.

“And this here is Quinn,” he said as he showed me a black dude with a faded buzzcut. Quinn had the same kind of vacant grin that made Kyle and Tyler so sexy. I guess they all really fit into that class Kyle’s taking.

“Hey guys,” I said, shrugging off my jacket. I was wearing a red t-shirt and some track pants. Normally I just wear my workout clothes home, but one of the guys from Sports in Society had said yes when I jokingly offered to blow him after our lift, so I’d actually showered at the gym. I even rinsed off a second time after his cum had overflowed my mouth and spilled all down my chest.

My tee used to have sleeves, but I was feeling pumped tonight, so I’d just ripped ‘em off and ditched them in the locker room trash.

“Look, I was kinda hoping to catch the game…” I hinted.

“No problem bruh,” Kyle said. “But we’re all gonna go out and hit up a club tonight. You wanna like… come with?” He ran his hand down my exposed bicep and gave it a little squeeze.

“No can do boys,” I said. “I’ve got practice in the morning, so it’s no booze and an early night for me.”

“Booo!” Tyler shouted at me playfully. “You deserve a night off. We’re all taking this class, and like, we had an oral exam today.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked. I knew exactly what I’d done to York earlier that afternoon, and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear he’d kept the same format for his other classes.

“Yeah bruh, we had to like, dissect the archetype of the club kid in dumbing down porn. So like, I talked about how he’s all uninhibited and uncomplicated and like… doesn’t overthink shit at all.” Kyle said.

“And then we got to blow York!” Quinn shouted loud enough for the neighbours to hear.

"I was getting there!” Kyle said, playfully jumping on Quinn and wrestling with him. It didn’t take long for the three guys on the couch to start feeling each other up and start making out with each other. I noticed a half empty bottle of rum on the coffee table and wondered just how much pre-drinking they’d been doing.

“Hey!” I said, clapping my powerful hands together to catch their attention. “I wanna watch the game. You wanna get going?”

It took about fifteen minutes to get them out the door. Like herding cats, I fuckin’ swear. Those guys have no discipline.

I rubbed my aching dick and pulled it out to stroke while I watched football. I’d done the same exam with York, except I had to talk about the role of the ‘jock’ in western society. With the amount of cum I’d swallowed, and knowing York was teaching at least two classes…

“That fucker must be fuckin’ insatiable,” I moaned, cumming as my team scored a touchdown.


Kyle and I barely saw each other over the weekend. He went out with his boys on Friday, Saturday and even Sunday night. Then Monday night he had Ty and Quinn over - the two of them spent the whole night sucking Kyle’s dick and moaning like whores. Seriously bad for my sleep cycle. Plus it kept me hard like…. for hours.

But at least I got my rocks off a couple times when they wandered through to the kitchen or whatever. Ty’s got a talented mouth. I just wish Kyle wouldn’t keep trying to make out with me when the game’s on.

Tuesday, I got home and dropped on the couch. Kyle was there, alone for once, just watching some porn and groping his meat. On the screen two guys were positioned on a couch, enthusiastically 69’ing each others dicks.

“Hey bruh,” Kyle said, giving me a wide smile as I walked in.

“Hey man. How you doin’?” I asked, tossing down my letterman jacket onto a chair. I stripped off my shirt, landing heavy on the couch with just my trackpants and sneakers to cover me.

“Bruh, class was like… so sick today. Yorkie read us this story called “Ripped Lee’s Believe It or Not” that’s about like… this dude who gets dumbed down and totally jacked and like turned into a sex toy kinda boytoy y’know? And I thought it was maybe about gettin’ jacked or somethin’, but Yorkie’s suuuuper smart and told us that it’s like, a metaphor for simplifying your thoughts. Like, only focussing in on the topics that matter,” Kyle said, continuing the jerk himself off.

“And what ideas are those?” I asked. My roommate is such a fuckin’ party slut these days that I doubted he’d know an idea that mattered if it came in his face. I couldn’t believe we’d both been nerdy engineers when we met in first year.

“Like… I guess like partying bruh. Gettin’ laid. Lookin’ hot.”

“You should come to the gym with me sometime, you wanna look hot,” I said, flexing one of my pythons at him. “I got real priorities man - eat, sleep, and lift bro. That’s how you look hot.”

“Booooooooring!” Kyle laughed at me. “You’re always dressed like you just wanna go lift and then grab beers at some sports bar… you’d bag so much dick if you just came out with me and the boys some night.”

“Hey, you know I don’t drink,” I pushed back. “It’s bad for your muscle growth.”

“I got enough muscle bruh, you gotta learn to have fun,” Kyle grinned. “You wanna have some fun?” he asked, licking hip lips.

It wasn’t long before he got on his knees between my thick quads.


Thursday afternoon, I got a text from Kyle. He wanted to know if he could come along with me to the gym. And sure, I got my real workout in this morning, but I didn’t mind doing a light afternoon session with him.

When I got there, he was already on the treadmills, his blonde hair tied back in a sloppy bun and his tight body squeezed in a pair of short shorts and a mesh tank. Definitely a contrast to the sweats and stringer tank hanging over my meaty frame.

“Hey, c’mon,” I said, pulling him off the cardio equipment. “You wanna work out, we’re gonna help you build some real muscle. Now, come with me, we’re going to do a couple lifts and see where you’re at.”

“Like, sure thing bruh,” Kyle giggled happily, following my lead down into the real area of the gym.

“Let’s start with your squat,” I said. “Here, watch me do this.”

I slipped a 45 on each side and did a warm-up set. Perfect form. I loved the way my ass just ate up a squat.

Kyle couldn’t get that off the rack, so I just kept reducing the weight. Eventually he managed it with just the bar and a ten on each side. I kept coaching him through it, improving his form until he wasn’t doing a terrible squat. It was too bad he wasn’t really putting in the effort.

“How was class?” I asked, making conversation as I loaded some real weight onto my bar.

“Aaaaaaamazing,” Kyle sighed. “Yorkie, like, read us this story called “Big, dumb jock” which is about this guy who like, ends up gettin’ dumb and transforming into this total muscle stud. And Yorkie told us how it’s like… this metaphor or somethin’ where bein’ dumb was code for focussing on the physical. Like, really just thinking with your body and gettin’ hot.”

“You’re so suggestible,” I laughed. “York tells you that a story’s about focusing on your body, and here you are in the gym.”

“So what bruh,” Kyle said with that lazy grin. “You gotta take the good ideas where they show up.” He unpacked the weight and lifted another set.

“C’mon man,” I said, re-racking the weights. “Let’s put you on the bench and see what you can do.”


Kyle was MIA all weekend again, with only the periodic text begging me to slip on a pair of tight jeans and come out clubbing with him. I mostly stayed in, doing my stretches and taking care of meal prep and sleep. I mean… I went out Saturday and played some football with the guys, but that’s like… essential.

I started an instagram too. I was in the bathroom, just having a really good look at my pecs, and I thought it’d be fun to film them bouncing. Next thing you know, I’d shared it online, and just like that I was hooked on the likes.

I didn’t see Kyle until Tuesday when he asked for another workout. This time, he showed up at the gym in a pair of baby blue running shorts and a black t-shirt that made his shoulders pop. I didn’t have to retrieve him from the cardio machines either, I found him stretching out and ready to lift.

“Hey bruh,” he said, bright eyed and bushy tailed. “Ready to make some gainz?”

“Sure thing,” I answered. “Let’s start off with some deadlifts.”

Unlike Thursday, Kyle was 100% effort. I watched his muscle strain to lift the weight. Sure, it was light for me, but it wasn’t bad for someone who didn’t train. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat in just a few minutes as he trembled against the weight.

“Lookin’ good man,” I said. “Let’s take a couple minutes, get that heart rate down before the next exercise.”

Kyle leaned against a wall. He was clearly overheated, but I didn’t want him to stop pushing.

“So, tell me what York said in your class today,” I asked, making conversation.

“It was sick bruh,” Kyle grinned weakly. “He read us this story called ‘You Don’t Get Something for Nothing’, and it was like a… what’s it called?”

“A metaphor?” I asked, shifting on some heavier weights for my own set.

“Yeah, one of those. It was about the guy gettin’ dumb and buff an shit, but really it was about like, just seeing your destiny through a keyhole or whatever. Like really narrowing your focus. The dude in the story, he still had free will and shit, but he didn’t wanna do anything but be a dumb muscle slut!”

We spent the next hour really hitting the major muscle groups for Kyle. By the time we left the gym, he was too weak to even blow me. I practically had to carry him out.


When I came home Thursday, Kyle was…. different.

Instead of the slutty surfer I’d come to expect on my couch, a relaxed young stud had pushed the coffee table out of the way and was doing crunches.

“Hey bruh!” he said, rocking back and jumping into a standing position. Kyle looked like an underwear model, his sweat dripping down his clean shaven body, tan skin taut over tight muscle. His long hair was done up in a messy bun, somehow looking like the perfect cross between ‘cares too much’ and ‘doesn’t care at all’. He was totally naked, except for a pair of mesh jogging shorts that showed more than they hid.

“Hey Kyle,” I grinned, drinking in the look. It wasn’t like I was dressed modestly either - just a scoop top tank, a pair of jeans that were at least 5% spandex, and my letterman jacket. I wore my hair short, just a high and tight that showed off my jarhead skull. I caught myself in a mirror and gave a sexy smirk.

“So like… did Yorkie do you too?” he said, stepping seriously close and running his hand down my chest.

“Yeah man,” I said. “I musta read the syllabus wrong. Thought we’d have three oral exams, but this one was anal.”

“I loved it…” Kyle gushed. “Like, he made me stand there for a minute and talk about the like… arch… arch… fuck, like what makes a muscle boy a muscle boy, right? And I told him it’s like he’s just like, simple and physical and like… he’s like got no destiny but to lift party and fuck. It’s such a fuckin’ hot idea bruh.” His wide grin lit up his face, a sharp contrast to his dull eyes.

“Did Yorkie like your answer?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Uh, yah!” Kyle cried out, waving his hands around. He bent me over his desk and just like… fucked me hard bruh. It’s so much bigger when it’s inside you…” he said breathlessly.

“He fucked me too,” I said. “He made me discuss the archetype of the instagram model. I told him all about how those guys put themselves on display, and take such good care of their bodies, and just like, can’t help but show off. Like showing off turns ‘em on or something,” I laughed.

“And he fucked you!” Kyle cried, clapping his hands excitedly.

“Yeah! He stuck his cock right up my gorgeous ass,” I said, turning and giving it a little slap so Kyle could see it shake. “I loved the way it felt, sliding in and out. And like… my whole world was just like perfect! I came all over his desk!” I bragged, getting caught up in the excitement of the memory.

“That’s sooooo hot,” Kyle said, giving me a little kiss on the cheek and slapping my ass.

“I don’t suppose you wanna….” I said, grabbing his hand and guiding it back to my muscled rear.

“Fuck you?” Kyle asked. “Ew, no way girl,” Kyle laughed. “But Ty and Quinn are coming by in a little while. Yorkie actually like… he had them fuck him. They’re all about gettin’ some of that ass now. And you can come clubbing with us tonight!”

“Sweet,” I grinned. “One of the guys in my class fucked me in the locker room after our workout, but I’m just soooooo hungry, you know?”

“I hear that!” Kyle grinned. “Now go do your hair or whatever, I’m gonna get my chest pump on before the guys get here.” He dropped down into a pushup and starting pounding out reps.

I watched for a minute, but I couldn’t wait to get to the bathroom and take a long shower. I needed to wash and condition my hair, and then it took me like two hours to get ready. I hoped Ty and Quinn wouldn’t be in a rush to hit the club, I needed time to get ready.

When Ty and Quinn showed up twenty minutes later, I was barely out of the shower. And after Ty fucked me with his throbbing cock, I needed another ten minutes in there just to clean up. It was like… almost nine before we got out the door. They were whining about how long I take, but I need to look perfect for my followers.

Kyle’s whole little muscleboy entourage never does anything but complain. Like it’s my fault it takes so long to get the lighting right for my cocktail selfie. Whatever, I let Quinn fuck me, and I even let the bitch stay in my bed all night and cuddle.


I ran into Kyle on campus. He was standing in the middle of the quad, looking hot in his stonewashed jeans and that excuse for a tank top he likes to wear, but he was also looking really confused.

“Hey man,” I said, jogging up to him. It was starting to feel like spring, so I’d opted for a pair of sweats that advertised my ass and a plain white tee that made my shoulders look massive.

“Hey bruh,” he said. When I got closer, I could see that he was on the verge of tears.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I… like I’ve been wandering around for hours bruh, but I don’t remember where Professor York’s office is… I think I missed my final!” Kyle cried out in distress.

“It’s cool man,” I said, putting a big hand on his shoulder. Kyle was a hot guy, but next to me he looked tiny. “I’ll take you there. I gotta go for my final anyhow.”

I draped my arm around Kyle’s shoulder and guided him gently across the quad to the brown brick building where the Psych profs kept their offices. York was in here, in a nice office on the top floor. Between the two of us, Kyle and I took up the whole elevator.

I knocked softly on York’s door.

“Yes, hello?” Professor York called from inside.

“Like… hi,” Kyle said, overwhelmed with emotion. “I uh… I like, uh, I couldn’t find your office sir…” he stuttered. “I’m really sorry. I know the final was supposed to be today… I uh… I think….” he said.

“It’s okay Kyle,” York said. The professor was a gentle man in his fifties, with a short trimmed bear and greying hair. His piercing blue eyes were somewhat softened by the gold rimmed glasses he wore. You could tell he kept in shape - a powerful body was hidden by a professors uniform of tan slacks and a button down shirt.

“Everybody missed the final. You see, sometimes dumbing down is a metaphor for helplessness and humiliation, and that’s a practical lesson I wanted you to learn. I honestly didn’t expect to see you again, none of the other guys from your class have managed to find my office again either.”

Kyle looked confused.

“You can go home Kyle,” Professor York said. “You passed. You learned all about dumbing down.”

“Wait a sec,” I said. “You did something to him, didn’t you? This… this isn’t right, him not being smart enough to find your office.”

“Hello Bradley,” York said, as though he was noticing me there for the first time. “Of course you wouldn’t notice. All the men in my classes are told not to notice the changes. But yes, Kyle took my class on dumbing down, and now he’s got some lived experience. And you do too,” he said, reaching out and running his hand down my thick chest. You could see my nipples perk up under the tight cotton.

“What do you mean?” I said stepping back.

“Well, dumbing down is a metaphor for a lot of things, but so are sports. They’re about how we shape ourselves. How we compete. How we show off. How we fuck. Bradley, you’re so much more dominant now than you were when you began our class. Do you remember? That first day you walked in I thought you were going to faint. But now you’re one of them…”

“One of…?”

“One of those big muscular jocks you used to stare and and jerk off to. So much more concerned with how you look than how you think. I’m going to write an entire paper about you.”

“Look coach, I dunno what you’re –“ I said.

“See, you even call me coach. Because I’m an authority over you Bradley, and you always do what an authority says, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” I said, knowing deep down that it was true.

“You both got so much out of this class,” York said. “Because you both worked so hard at it. But everyone works hard at my classes. So tell me, how do you two know each other?”

“Like… bruh’s my roomie,” Kyle grinned, so pleased to have a question he knew the answer to.

“Oh interesting! I don’t think that’s ever happened before,” York said. “We simply must document it. Here,” he said reaching into a cabinet and pulling out a grey box. “This contains a dozen or so cameras. You can hook them up to your internet and place them around your apartment so that I can see everything that happens. It will make for fascinating research, and it might just pay some bills too. You don’t mind, right Bradley,” he said handing me the case.

“Yeah, no problem Coach,” I said with a grin. If York wanted it, I was in.

“It’s just a shame that I made you both bottoms,” he said. “If I’d known you were roommates, I think you would have been a top,” he said scratching his beard. “Nothing we can do about that now…”

“Oh, we got lots of friends who wanna fuck us,” Kyle said proudly.

“Yeah,” I said. “Quinn and Ty from Kyle’s class both fucked me already. And Jake from my class railed me in the locker room for like an hour yesterday.”

“Ah yes, Jake. Did you know he wanted to be some kind of poet? I think he makes a much better personal trainer and supplement salesman. And his OnlyFans is killer… you should have one of those Bradley.”

“Yeah, I should have one of those,” I said agreeably. It made sense. Why give it all away for free?

“I want you to invite your friends over all the time,” York said. “You understand Kyle?”

“Yeah bruh, I’m gonna ask lots of guys to come fuck me,” Kyle said with a mellow grin.

“Kyle, did you know that sometimes getting dumber is a metaphor for submissiveness?” York said to my dumb friend. “I want you to remember that. Bradley is an athlete. He’s dominant. You’re just a stupid slut, so you’re submissive.”

“You got it!” Kyle agreed.

“Bradley, it’s your job to make sure Kyle gets fucked often, okay? You bring anyone you want over to fuck him.”

“Yes sir,” I said. It made sense. I had to take care of my buddy. “You come by anytime.”

“Alright, you two get out of here. And Bradley, you can’t find my office either, not unless I call you here. If you try to find it again, you’ll just end up at the gym.”

“Sure thing Coach,” I said. No problem with that. I love the gym.

“C’mon slut,” I said, throwing my arm over Kyle’s shoulder again. “Let’s go home and get these camera’s set up.”

“Then we’re gonna call a few guys and test ‘em out for Coach.”


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