#intelligence loss

[unusualtfs]

Public Transformation Network

“Hey bro, could I borrow your phone?”

You looked up from the online textbook you’d been reading. And up. And up. Looming over your bus seat was an absolute behemoth of a man. His black hair was slick with sweat, a clear sign he’d just been at the gym, although his beefy physique and rank musk could’ve clued you in just as easily.

“S-sorry, what?” you stammered.

The guy responded with an easygoing smile on his broad, bearded face. “Your phone. Could I borrow it for a sec? I’m visiting my bro, but my phone’s outta juice and I forget what stop to get off at. I just need to call him real quick.” His voice was deep and vacuous.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you said. “Knock yourself out.” You placed your phone in his meaty bronze hand, carefully trying not to notice how dainty and pale your fingers looked compared to his sausages.

With nothing else to do, you watched awkwardly from your seat as he dialed his friend’s number. “Yo dude, it’s me,” he greeted boisterously. “Yeah I’m on the bus using this nerdy guy’s phone right now, mine fuckin’ ran out, haha…”

You blinked in outrage, and embarrassment. “Nerdy guy”??? Just because you wore a white button-down, and had a mousy brown mop and a complete lack of facial hair, and your entire body was skinnier than his arm, didn’t make you a nerd! You had a leather knapsack — those were cool, weren’t they? Anyways.

As the bus continued on, you caught snippets of the conversation unfolding in front of you. Evidently, the guy had gotten hopelessly turned around, and his friend was trying to figure out how to get him to his destination. Privately, you thought this seemed too complex for his simple brain to comprehend.

“Ok wait, so you’re saying I need to be on the 115? And then take Johnson Street to the 67 line? Uh-huh, uh-huh. Gotcha. Thanks, bro. That means I should get off on…” He glanced at the route map above you, and you could see his thick head visibly struggling to make sense of it. Then his brown eyes widened comically. “Shit, this stop right here!”

Sure enough, the bus had been decelerating, and now it came to a complete stop. The guy pushed his way to the crowded exit, still absorbed in his conversation. You noted with disgust that he had your phone lodged between his bristly cheek and his broad shoulder, both of which were sheened with sweat. Then it hit you — he was about to leave with your phone!

“Wait!” you said, trying to get his attention. You hated how squeaky your voice sounded compared to his bovine bass, but still, it worked.

“Huh? Oh right,” he said. Speaking into the phone, he said, “Fuck bro, gotta go. See ya soon, king.” 

Then, he hung up and turned his attention to you. “Yo, thanks so much, little guy!” At this point, he was too close to the door, and there were too many people pushing to exit, for him to turn around and give your phone back. So instead, he stood up straight, braced his knees, and lobbed your phone at you with a dumb, cocky grin. “Catch, bro!”

Oh my god, what was this idiot thinking? You were going to miss, and then your phone would hit the floor and shatter into a million pieces, or it would smack someone’s head and they’d sue you for everything you had, or…

You gripped something in your hand. Peeking one eye open, you found that your phone was secure in your grip. Despite your lacking hand-eye coordination, you had somehow caught your phone, acting purely on instinct.

Then you immediately laid it on your lap, because it was slick with sweat and had thoroughly absorbed the guy’s scent. As you leaned down to clean it, your phone screen lit up with a notification. It was a message from an unknown number.

wait did u say u we’re on the 103

BRUH u werent supposed to get off yet lmaooo 💀💀

You internally groaned. Did that meathead’s friend think he was just going to keep your phone forever? He probably did; he was obviously just as much of a dumb gym bro as his friend. 

You prepared to type in a polite response informing him that he had the wrong number, but suddenly the bus lurched and you lost control of your phone for a moment. Glancing back at your screen, you realized that you had accidentally pressed send: 

bro just gimme ur addy i’ll put it into maps

That was absolutely not what you had typed in. You tended to be pretty dexterous, so you had no idea how that had happened. Although… you looked at your hands consideringly. They were brown and veiny, with wide and hairy fingers. You supposed it was hard to type on a phone keyboard with massive mitts like yours. Briefly, you thought that your hands seemed disproportionately large against the rest of you, that they weren’t supposed to be this big and manly, but you dismissed it, because why wouldn’t they be?

Anyways, now that that encounter was over, you could go back to studying. You scrolled through your phone, trying to locate your Kindle app. But it didn’t seem to be anywhere. Frustrated, you swiped back and forth across your home screen, not noticing how each tap sent a jolt up your body.

Swipe. You felt movement on either side of you — which you quickly realized was caused by the passengers sitting next to you. You couldn’t avoid brushing up against them with how broad your square shoulders were. It was a good problem to have.

Swipe. Absent-mindedly, you dragged your giant paws across your equally giant pecs. You didn’t know what made you feel more virile — scratching your tangled black curls of sweaty chest hair, or accidentally brushing against your protruding dark nipples. Oh wait, you knew the answer — scratching your tangled black treasure trail and brushing against your washboard abs.

Swipe. You splayed your tree trunk legs further out, stomping your size 14 feet on the floor of the bus. You didn’t care if the other passengers thought you were rude — with thighs this thick, it was impossible not to manspread, especially for someone as well-endowed as you. A wet protein fart trumpeted from your inflated ass, but you took it in stride.

Swipe. The bus lurched again, and for a moment it felt like you had leaped half a foot into the air. But your line of sight never shifted back down, and why would it? You had always been tall — just like you had always had perfectly sculpted lats and traps, and a thick bull neck, and…

Your swiping was interrupted by a notification: 5% battery remaining. You furrowed your caveman brow in confusion. Hadn’t you left your place with a full charge? How had it run out so quickly? As you were thinking, you grabbed your squirt bottle from the pocket of your gym bag and took a swig.

Duh, your gym bag — you’d been at the gym! That explained the phone battery, then; you liked to listen to workout podcasts or mindlessly scroll through TikTok as you worked out, and with how long you spent at the gym each day, more often than not you walked out of there with much less charge than you’d started with. 

Judging by the sweat leaking through your black mesh tank top, though — and not to mention your musky stench — it had been an especially good session today. It had been an arm day, and you silently admired your hard work, the way your biceps and triceps swelled with power and your veiny forearms pulsed in time with your heartbeat, all wrapped up in a layer of thick black hair and perfectly tan coloring. Yeah. Those were some impressive arms you had.

A text notification popped up at the top of your screen: 

bro how do you not know this by now 😭

its 992 carter st apt#208

Oh yeah, you’d been so distracted by your muscles that you’d forgotten why you were on this bus. You were going to visit your best bro later today, and your license was suspended from the last time you two had gotten a little too crunk, so public transit it was.

You glanced at the route map above you, trying to figure out the best way to get there. So you were on the red squiggly line on the left side of the image, which meant… no wait… maybe you were on that green dot in the middle? Your eyes glazed over, and your brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton candy. While that was a feeling you were very much used to, and even proud of, right now you were annoyed. Why’d they have to make these picture thingies so fucking confusing anyway? Whatever, that was why they’d invented Google Maps.

Copying over your friend’s address, you attempted to navigate to the map app. But your thick finger missed the icon entirely, instead opening your photo gallery. The most recent photo was a selfie you’d taken at the gym today, and you took a moment to admire yourself. You felt your blocky, bearded face form the exact same cocky smirk that was in the photo. Hell yeah, you were one sexy motherfucker. 

Suddenly, the image turned black. You’d run out of power. You stared for a second at the face reflected on the blank phone screen, identical to the one in the photo.

“Fuck,” you muttered in your deep, slow voice, scratching your temple with one finger like a Neanderthal. You hadn’t gotten to put your friend’s address into Google Maps, and you definitely were too dumb to get there on your own. What to do?

Slowly, painstakingly, an idea formed in your thick meathead mind. Maybe… you could… use someone else’s phone… to call your friend up and ask him how to get there! You scanned the bus for people to ask. There were lots of people on their phones, but for some reason, one passenger stood out to you. He was shrimpy and short, sitting a few seats away from you in the opposite row as he tapped away at some mobile game.

Pocketing your dead device, you rose from your seat and swaggered over to the little guy.

“Hey bro, could I borrow your phone?”

[bigger-and-rounder]

Secret feeding ghost possession style. Person who moves into a cheap old home occupied by a ghost with particular “tastes” who sees this new human as a perfect chance to have some fun even from the afterlife. Every night they take control of the person’s body while they sleep and force them to open the fridge and eat something. Starting out small at first to not arouse too much suspicion, the person only thinking it’s odd that they seem to be going through food much more quickly than they thought they should. No matter, they just buy more. The late night binges continue, and their flat stomach starts to round out into a little paunch… and it makes them so so sleepy, both from the disturbance but the food coma induced by indulging so much, so it’s getting increasingly hard to focus.

Eventually they do notice the weight and panic, resolving to cut back on their food intake, but the ghost just ups the ante. Now they’re waking up painfully stuffed and convinced they must be going crazy, but they don’t know what to do about it. Grocery and delivery orders start appearing at their door that they don’t remember buying, and they try to return them at first but they just feel helpless as they keep coming, eventually resigning to just accept them. They’re starting to grow so fast, both from their late night stuffings and from their now daily habit of eating entire pizzas and bags of burgers delivered to their door. They’re so hungry now, finding themselves in front of the fridge even during the day, belly bulging as they eat a whole cake with a glazed look on their face.

The ghost, still not satisfied, finally starts to possess them while they’re awake to force them to eat even more, to order more delivery, just more, more, more. It makes them touch themselves, whispering in their ear to pinch their sagging breasts and grind into their fat pad as they choke down a fifth serving of noodles. Slowly but surely they’re disappearing, starting to think for themselves less and less as the ghost starts making all of their decisions. Which can be boiled down to “eat, jack off, sleep” with very little else. And while the ghost itself can’t directly feel any of this, it still gets a sense of deep satisfaction watching this human turn more and more into a useless blob of fat.

They're so far gone now, they haven’t thought for themselves in over a month and haven’t stood up for twice that. It’s pointless to even try, mindlessly gorging themselves into a stupor every minute of the day, pale flesh surging over the edge of the couch and nearly breaking it in two, wobbling in waves as they bask in another chain of orgasms. As far as anyone knows the house is once again abandoned, if it weren’t for the constant streams of massive deliveries being made to the front door. There’s no one to receive them, and yet they seem to make their way to the blob through some invisible force. The person doesn’t even question the feeling of ghostly hands on their flesh, nor how whole pizzas are being lifted into the air and crammed down their throat, all they care about is eating and getting even bigger. A ghost’s plaything, doomed to grow and grow until they join it in haunting this place, ready for the next victim.

[hungryhypno]

Give in.

You know you want to.

You know you Need to.

Let go of doubts.

Thoughts hurt your brain.

Eating feels good.

Let out your inner glutton.

Empty your mind and fill your belly.

Let your mind get floaty and your body heavy.

Become the ditzy glutton you're meant to be. <3

[sophiesbimbofantasy]

i just finished grad school and my Master was worried that i may forget what my head is really for now that i have a doctorate, so the night before graduation He got me all dressed up in my fancy robes and hat then fucked my face until my brains leaked out between my legs

[mrmystery]

Los Tenis de Eithan

Alexis y Eithan eran compañeros de habitación en la universidad, pero no podrían haber sido más opuestos. Alexis era bajito, delgado y no destacaba en ninguna actividad física; sin embargo, era un genio en lo mental. Sacaba notas perfectas en todas las materias, era educado, de buenos modales y siempre estaba dispuesto a ayudar a los demás. Por el contrario, Eithan era un desastre académico: reprobaba exámenes con facilidad y apenas prestaba atención en clase. Pero en los deportes, era una estrella. Representaba a la universidad en varios equipos, y por eso los profesores le daban una mano para que no fallara y pudiera seguir compitiendo. Eithan medía 1.88 metros y pesaba 115 kilos de músculo puro, lo que lo convertía en el clásico bully de la escuela: arrogante, egocéntrico, siempre haciendo bromas a costa de los demás y creyéndose superior a todos.

Para mejorar el rendimiento de alumnos como Eithan, la universidad implementó un programa de tutores par, donde estudiantes de excelencia académica como Alexis ayudaban a los de bajo desempeño. Los profesores, al enterarse de que ya eran roommates, pensaron que era una idea genial asignar a Alexis como tutor de Eithan. Pero Eithan vio esto como una oportunidad perfecta para explotarlo. No solo le hacía hacer sus tareas y exámenes, sino que lo usaba como un esclavo personal: cargar sus cosas, lavar su ropa sucia, organizar su agenda diaria y hasta preparar sus comidas. "Para eso están los bros, para ayudarnos" pero en realidad solo Alexis ayudaba a Eithan pero nunca al revés, le decía con una risa burlona, mientras Alexis tragaba saliva y obedecía para no meterse en problemas.

Un día, Alexis, harto de las órdenes constantes, decidió rebelarse de una forma sutil y burlona. Eithan le había dado unos tenis viejos y sudorosos para que los limpiara; eran sus favoritos, los que usaba en todos los entrenamientos, los usaba tanto que parecía que había dejado su esencia en ellos: ese olor a esfuerzo, victoria y arrogancia. En lugar de limpiarlos, Alexis se los puso sin permiso, solo para molestarlo. Al instante, sintió una corriente eléctrica recorrer su cuerpo: una oleada de confianza, seguridad y energía inagotable. De repente, se sentía motivado para moverse, para correr, para hacer ejercicio como nunca antes.

Cuando Eithan volvió del entrenamiento, exhausto y sudoroso, vio a Alexis con sus tenis puestos y explotó de ira. "¡Quítatelos ahora mismo, enano!", gritó, lanzándose a perseguirlo por la habitación. Pero Alexis, impulsado por esa nueva energía, fue más rápido. Esquivó muebles, saltó sobre la cama y escapó por el pasillo del dormitorio.

Eithan, cansado por el duro entrenamiento, se rindió jadeando. "¡Dámelos de vuelta!", exigió, pero Alexis, aún con el corazón latiendo fuerte, le pidió: "Regálamelos, por favor". Eithan, molesto pero demasiado fatigado para discutir, asintió. "Toma, ya están viejos de todos modos. Pensaba cambiarlos". No sabía que esos tenis eran como una extensión de su ser, y que al dárselos, estaba cediendo algo más que un par de zapatos.

Desde ese día, Alexis usó los tenis todos los días. Por alguna razón inexplicable, le daban motivación para ir al gimnasio, correr por el campus y unirse a equipos deportivos. Inmediatamente después de la primera vez que se los puso sintió mucha confianza y seguridad, lo hacían sentir invencible

Poco a poco, sin darse cuenta, comenzó a adoptar la personalidad de Eithan. Su voz se volvió más grave y autoritaria, empezó a hacer bromas sarcásticas y a creerse el centro del universo. Físicamente, cambió también: sus músculos crecieron con el ejercicio constante, y como si tuviera una pubertad tardía, ganó varios centímetros de estatura. Se volvió tan bueno en los deportes que pronto sustituyó a Eithan como capitán en todos los equipos donde él competía: fútbol, baloncesto, atletismo. Pero a medida que dedicaba más tiempo al deporte, sus notas bajaron. Ya no era el genio infalible; ahora priorizaba los entrenamientos sobre los libros, y su ego inflado lo hacía ignorar las advertencias de los profesores.

Eithan, por su parte, sufrió el golpe más duro de su vida al ser desplazado. Ver a su "esclavo" nerd superándolo en lo que él consideraba su territorio lo destrozó. Decepcionado, dejó de practicar deportes por completo. Con el tiempo libre que le sobró, empezó a invertir en sus estudios. Sorprendentemente, sus notas mejoraron drásticamente, como si un genio dormido hubiera despertado en él. Se inscribió en todos los clubes académicos que Alexis había abandonado para enfocarse en el deporte: matemáticas avanzadas, debate, ciencias. Conforme perdía músculo por la inactividad, también parecía perder centímetros de estatura, encogiéndose física y emocionalmente. El ego que lo definía se desinfló; se volvió humilde, servicial y atento con los demás. Ya no era el bully; ahora ayudaba a sus compañeros sin pedir nada a cambio.

Para el último semestre de la universidad, los roles estaban completamente invertidos. Alexis, ahora alto, musculoso y arrogante, luchaba por salvar sus materias si quería graduarse. Sus notas eran un desastre, y pasaba más tiempo en el gimnasio que en la biblioteca. Eithan, en cambio, era el mejor de la clase: bajito, delgado, educado y siempre dispuesto a ayudar.

Los profesores, notando la ironía, decidieron que, ya que seguían siendo roommates, Eithan sería el tutor de Alexis en el programa. Alexis, al enterarse, sonrió con malicia. "Por fin tendré quien me haga esas estúpidas tareas y uno que otro favor, jaja", pensó, planeando vengarse convirtiendo a Eithan en su esclavo personal, tal como él lo había hecho antes. Pero Eithan, con su nueva humildad, aceptó el rol sin quejas, listo para ayudar.

¿Quién sabe si esta inversión sería permanente, o si algún día el ciclo se repetiría? Por ahora, la habitación que compartían era testigo de cómo dos opuestos se habían intercambiado las almas, todo por un par de tenis viejos y sudorosos.

[starribyrd]

You know, there's all these posts about how brain drain/intelligence loss hypnobait kinksters are always actually so smart and they're all getting their masters or PhDs or whatever in fields you've never even heard of but actually they're literally going to cure cancer or whatever. That's funny yeah, and true to some extent I suppose... but what about the dumbasses like me?

What about the dropouts and those of us who can't figure out how to put together a folding table without step by step instructions for unfolding each leg? We too have a right, nay, a need, to become stupider too! Just because there wasn't much to begin with doesn't mean we can't get stupider!

[mimi-boywife]

[theghostofhildegardvonbingen]

little miss intelligencelossbait is planning her college vacation trip to jupiter