Posted Sat Jan 9, 2016 | 151 Words | Tagged story

He was cursed from the strange lady at the fairground. Every time he flexed a muscle he would grow more muscle instantly, but at the same time he’d loose some of his IQ. She didn’t say how much, she wasn’t that exact when in rage at some kid not believing in her magic.

He flexed once to try and out later where he could properly see. Damn he liked that. He flexed a little more.

By the time he got home, he couldn’t resist. It was just too tempting, he had to remove his t-shirt, now a tank top thanks to him ripping off the sides on the way home. Then the rest.

I think soon he’ll forget all about it. All that’ll be left is a dumb jock who loves his muscles. Not that he would have the brain power to remember nor care that this wasn’t what he wanted.