A Not So Happy Halloween

For husbands Sean and Dylan, misery lay solely in dealing with their annoying next-door neighbor, Brody. Brody was around their age but had the mental maturity of a bothersome thirteen-year-old. For example, he loved a childish prank, especially on Halloween. He's done all the classics: toilet-papering their house, throwing eggs at their windows, and smashing their prized carved pumpkins. This year, however, Brody's gone too far; he dared to spray paint "Happy Halloween FAGGOTS!!" all over Sean and Dylan's newly paved driveway. He even had the gall to show up, arms proudly crossed and cackling like a hyena at their raging expressions.

Fuming mad, Sean and Dylan gave each other a smug look, realizing it was time Brody finally got his much-needed just deserts. Dylan then reached into his pocket and clutched the lilac-colored crystal within it. The magical crystal was an old family heirloom passed down by his father. He promised only to use the crystal's magic for good, but Brody was practically begging to be taught a lesson. Dylan gazed angrily at Brody, eyes bright purple as he chanted off a powerful spell. Suddenly, Brody's cackling ceased as he fell to the ground, clutching his body in pain. He gasped in horror, realizing he was shrinking and turning bright orange. Within seconds, he transformed into a freshly carved-out pumpkin.

Sean and Dylan grabbed Brody by the holes and took him into their garage, where they could spend all of Hallows Eve morning, spit-roasting his craved-out insides! Brody may have been turned into a pumpkin, but he was very much aware of what was happening to him. You can only imagine his rage when, after being filled with Sean and Dylan's seed, Dylan hurled him at the pavement, splattering him everywhere.

The Red Cap "Empty Head, Happy Bro" (Original Version)

When the red cap goes on, the ignorant toxic douche bro comes out. All thought and liberalism melt into his massive nuts, leaving him with nothing but brain-dead conservatism. Letting go and sinking deep down into the red echo chamber of cocky self-indulgence feels so good, so hard to resist. It feels so good to show off and gloat like a massive tool, making his fat cock throb. He only wants to go deeper and get stupider. The red cap feels so fucking good, bro.

Dylan "Dillon" (Original Version)

Dillon was nothing short of a track star, his college's best and brightest—and gayest. To keep his title, he maintained a vigorous gym workout, consisting of mostly cardio. The gym was his second home, his favorite place aside from the track field, so you could imagine his frustration after finding out the school gym was going under construction for a few months. Luckily, as if a blessing from the big dude upstairs, a brand new gym had opened barely five minutes away from his dorm. He signed up immediately, unable to resist buying the deluxe package since the school would subsidize the extra cost. He really should have read the fine print instead of getting carried away. The deluxe consisted of major bodybuilding, NOT cardio, and the trainers would load up his headphones with tracks that slowly worm into his mind and put the things they want in there. Of course, the gym is well known for making a man out of even the wimpiest rookie. So, much to Dillon's surprise, he ended up transforming into a completely straight, pussy hound, bulky alpha!

Gym Bro Dad (Original Version)

"Look, Amir! I'm like you late at night!" My dad childishly joked, shaking his protein shake in the exact manner you would for jerking off.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. God, my dad has turned into such a meathead. He also won't stop eye fucking himself! Ever since joining this stupid gym and getting, I admit, impressively swole, it's like all his brains were sucked out! Was that the cost of a membership here: your IQ?!

I guess it isn't all bad, I mean, he has lightened up a lot since dumbing down. He used to be such a stick in the mud, always painfully serious with a lecture in hand. However, now, I can hardly keep up with him. From the constant jokes and smothering hugs, he's turned into such a teddy bear! And don't get me started on the smell! Every time he hugs me, I'm practically suffocated with his musk, a thick aroma of masculine stink and sweat. I hate that I like it sometimes ... actually, most of the time. Damn, Dad. Why do you have to be so fucking sexy?! It's cause of you that I beat my meat silly every night! ...Dumb, meathead.

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He could feel himself tightening up, ready to pour a river of potent gay cum deep into her fertile pussy. He knew not using a condom wasn't the wisest decision, but he wanted to lose his gold star naturally and pure. With each thrust, pulling out became more and more of an unattainable action. Her pussy felt too damn good. The hellish future of burdening child support was vivid in his melting mind as he unloaded every last drop.

Feelin Fuzzy (Original Version)

"Man, since I got a therapist, I feel like my life has changed so much... I... I just wish my memory of the appointments wasn't so fuzzy. But, whatever! ...I am surprised at how much has changed, though! I never liked working out or even wanted to bulk up, but I've been hell-bent on losing my slim figure. Why did I ever like having a small, faggy... I... I mean, feminine frame! This thicker, manlier build is a much better look. It was also surprisingly nice to finally get rid of my faggy haircut. I.. I mean... uh.. why do I keep using that word? I hate that word... but... it... it just feels like the right word to use. Man, that's another thing. I just don't get where this sudden repulsion toward men came from. Ugh, just thinking about men in any sexual way makes me sick! Luckily, I've been on a hetero kick. I've hooked up with so many girls lately! Man, have I been missing out on pussy. I could suck on a girl's juicy tits all day! It feels so right and normal to fuck a woman... pussy... pussy is just meant for my cock... uh, my head's gettin' all fuzzy... and I'm starting to get horny... time for some porn! I need some hot pussy fucking to jack off to!"

Jack O'Bros (Original Version)

You'd think attending a slutty Halloween party full of hot guys would be a blast, but you'd be dead wrong. My god, were they all brain-dead! Don't get me wrong, I like a good old-fashioned hot dumb ass from time to time, but all of them?! Also, I never imagined pumpkin heads being the hot costume for men this year. Who'd want to wear a carved-out dirty pumpkin on their head all night? I guess that's dumb jocks for ya. What sucks is I was really looking forward to that party, but I just had to get out of there. They were all starting to give me the creeps, not in that fun Halloween way but actually.

Those pumpkin heads were all acting so hive-like, talking in monotone and endlessly repeating the same phrases. "The pumpkin heads must grow. All men must be seeded. We must grow. We must seed." What the fuck is all that?! I thought it was all some elaborate joke, but nope. The creepiest part was that you could barely hear them unless you got up really close to their carved-out pumpkin mouths. However, if you did that, they'd suddenly garb you—a little too tightly, I might add. I eventually dipped out after getting grabbed one too many times. Uh, that party sucked. At least they were all shirtless, so I got something out of it.

Thank god the party wasn't too far from my apartment, so I could clear my head over a nice walk. However, halfway home, I ran into another Jack O'dumb ass.

Aside from the pumpkin on his head, he was carrying one in his hand. He was muttering the same hive-like crap the others were, but I could only focus on that and instead on how the carved-out pumpkin he was carrying looked exactly my size. It was creepy. I walked past him, trying to ignore him, but the second I had my back to him, he forcefully shoved that disgusting pumpkin he was carrying on my head!

It was so fucking gross, the smell was repulsive—not like a pumpkin, but Axe body spray mixed with masculine musk. It was as if my head was shoved in a jock's sweaty pit. The reek instantly made my head spin, causing me to fall to the cold concrete beneath me. I could barely think, my eyes rolling back from the intensity. Suddenly, both my ears were punctured with something that felt like a vine. I started shaking in pure fear, grasping the ground. The pain was excruciating, but the pleasure of my conscription soon took hold. The vines drained my thoughts—my everything—and replaced them with only what should remain in a pumpkin-head drone. I gasped in agony, not in pain but utter pleasure. It felt so fucking good. I wanted more, so much fucking more.

Within a few seconds, I finally heard the sweet mantra of the pumpkin heads. "The pumpkin heads must grow. All men must be seeded. We must grow. We must seed," I said with a smile, although you couldn't see it behind my new head. I quickly got up from the ground and tore my shirt off, revealing my sweaty, ripped abs. How else are you supposed to entice the future recruits, bro? After all, the pumpkin heads must grow. All men must be seeded. We must grow. We must seed.

Join us, bro.