Write something triggering based on being hacked and installing the goon virus from bro to bro. Each of their transformations are different, a reflection of their deepest inner desires.
[This Quick and Dirty story was written by a human (me) based on a prompt that was previously sent to generative AI. I wrote it in one uninterrupted stream-of-consciousness flow with a hard time limit of 20 minutes. It is not perfect. No edits have been made, except to correct typos. Feel free to use my asks to send me more prompts!
For this one, I think I took a real left turn from the actual prompt, so Iâm sorry if this isnât exactly what you were looking for, anon! Oh, and thank you to @dumberswitch for providing the third image. (He has brought it to my attention that the man in said image is Australian, not English, which is actually quite obvious, but yâall, I only had 20 minutes đ” please roll with it)]
Clayton was hanging out with his three best friends, who had just helped him move into his new apartment. They had all met the year before, during their freshman year of college, and they had bonded quickly over a shared taste in women, movies, sports, and well⊠everything.
They were relaxing after a tiring day, but Clayton could feel their palpable boredom, so he decided to come up with something fun to do.
âHow about we each go around and say something weâre thankful for?â he asked.
Roderick sighed and said, âIâll bite,â lowering the speed on his exercise bike so he could speak more easily. âIâm thankful I never gained the freshman 15.â
âIâm thankful for England,â said Chris, who was lying on the bed re-reading a Douglas Adams book and not really paying attention.
âIâm thankful for my pickup truck,â said John, who was peering out the window making sure his new truck was still there. It had just proven its usefulness in helping Clayton move all of his shit.
âAnd Iâm thankful for my friends,â said Clayton. âThanks again for helping me out today. I really owe you one.â
âWell, that was funâ said John, sarcastically. âNow what?â
Clayton racked his brains. âOh! Why donât I download that new app everyoneâs been trying out!â
âGoonr?â asked Roderick. âThe joke one that tells you your gooning style or whatever? I donât really get it.â
âMy friend Des tried it and he really got a kick out of it,â said Clayton, shrugging.
âDes is a perv,â said Chris. âBut sure, why the hell not?â
Within minutes, the app was downloaded on Claytonâs phone and they all huddled around it. The loading icon finally cleared and what was revealed were the words âFriends.â
âIs that it?â asked John.
Clayton shrugged. âGuess so. At least it was free.â
Suddenly, all three of his friendsâ phones pinged. They opened them to find that the Goonr app had spontaneously downloaded itself onto all of their phones.
âIs this some sort of promotion?â asked Chris. âLike that shitty U2 album that Apple put on everybodyâs phones?â
One by one, the loading icons cleared.
âšRoderickâs phone said âFitness.â
Chrisâ phone said âEngland.â
And Johnâs phone said âTruck.â
Simultaneously, all of their phones starting glowing white, momentarily blinding them all. When Roderickâs eyes cleared, he found that he was still sitting on the bike, blinking dazedly. âWhat theâŠâ he said, before catching sight of himself in the mirror on the wall in front of him.
âDamn, Iâm looking yoked,â he said, appreciatively.
He flexed his bicep. It looked big. He flexed his other bicep. It looked⊠bigger. Were they mismatched? He frowned and flexed the other one again. OK, it must have been a trick of the light. It bulged out properly, matching the other one.
He felt his dick stiffen in his pants. Fuck, was he making himself hard? That was embarrassing. But he was hot⊠He flexed his quads. Bam, bam! They bulged and grew. Fuck⊠He was such a stud. He lifted his shirt, admiring the six-pack abs that were bulging and growing from his flat stomach.
His dick got harder and harder. It felt like it was practically squirming. He touched it and his mind went white.
Chrisâ eyes cleared next. The first thing he saw was his friend Roddy, feverishly pumping his meat while rubbing his abs and pedaling on the exercise bike. His hair looked a bit disheveled, and he had a short beard, as if he hadnât shaved in a few days. Chris was about to panic when his attention was caught by his book, still lying open on the bed. He loved Douglas Adams so much. He loved everything English.
English literature, English culture, English food. English rugby. English beer. English girls. He even dressed English. He looked down to see his grey clothes shimmering and becoming bright yellow rugby kit.
âFuckinâ âell mate, whatâs going on?â he asked. Hell, he even sounded English. Just hearing his voice turned him on so fucking much. He pulled down his shorts and started rubbing his cock, thinking about his favorite Page 3 models.
Johnâs eyes cleared next, revealing Roddy whacking off (again? He never stopped) and John lying on the bed, grinning.
He winked at John and pulled out his cock, beginning to wank himself off. His eyes crossed with sheer pleasure.
John averted his gaze, looking outside to see his truck. His pristine new truck, with that lovely moon roof and those Truck Nuts and all the mud on the bottom and the dents and⊠John felt dizzy. Was it dirtier than it was supposed to be? Was he dirtier than he was supposed to be? His hair suddenly felt greasy, as it began to lengthen and slide down his neck. He jammed his trucker cap over it to keep it contained, just as his trash stash grew in on his upper lip, nice and thick. He looked back out at his truck and thought about all the country babes he had wanted to plow out in the cornfield when he was growing up in Arkansas. His cock got hard in his pants. Would anybody mind if heâŠ
Claytonâs eyes finally cleared, and he could see his friends. There was Roddy, feeling himself up. Pre-cum beaded at the tip of his red cock as his other hand furiously slid up and down his shaft.
There was Chris, going âoiâ and âbruvâ every few seconds as his spit-slick hand wanked his member. There was Jonno, shirtless (as usual) and sticking his tongue out as he beat his meat furiously.
God, they were all so hot. His friends, jerking their hogs, not a care in the world. This was all he wanted to see, all he wanted to think about, ever.
So thatâs what he did. He stopped thinking about the job interview he had in the morning, or what he wanted to get for dinner, or even the fact that none of the four of them had looked quite like this a few minutes ago. All he could think about was his masturbating friends. He wanted to join them so bad. He whipped off his clothes, leaned over on the desk, and started going to town on himself, drooling as he stared intensely at the three hunks beating their meat in front of him. God, he was so thankful for his friends.
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