He did worry the baggage of a bad relationship would keep him from being able to relax and just enjoy simple fun times out on the town, which is part of why he enlisted My help – but it didn’t take much to get Calvin to start relaxing to My voice.

Soon he was stripping down to his briefs and finding a place he could comfortably let go to My suggestions, as I began to strip him of any inhibitions that would keep him from transforming into a new, better version of himself.

After all, a hot body like that should not be wasted, and it was time Calvin realized that for himself.

Calvin’s expression went blank as soon as that water did hit. “Coach, I feel a bit dizzy,” he said, as he braced himself against the shower wall. “My brain feels like it’s washing down.”

It’s just going to your dick, Calvin. Let it happen and enjoy it.

Calvin turned back around, stroking his hung penis in the shower as the water continue to wash over his hairy muscles. Soon, he was giving  in to the suggestions and feeling like a total himbo that would think with his dick from now on.

Calvin couldn’t believe how good he felt. Everything just felt so much more sensitive to the touch.

He kept staring down at his dick. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to start using it more again. He wanted to cum out his brains into every hot willing guy he could find – and with looks like that, many would be willing.

While I had left him intelligent for his job, he would be triggered by wearing less – the less he had on, the less he had to think. Himbos don’t need to think when they show their body.

A harness and jeans at the bar? Less thinking. A swimsuit at the pool? Even less thinking. Getting naked for a hot encounter? Only thinking with his dick.

A brief look of confusion on his face  indicated to Me that the muscled jock was having trouble thinking for a moment – what he was trying to think of, I don’t know, but it soon didn’t matter as he started focusing more on the pleasure once again.

I certainly didn’t mind watching him explore as he began to feel up his muscles, running his hands against his abs and then his hairy pecs – pecs that would soon be getting even bigger as his new obsession with muscle and the gym took stronger hold in his subconscious.

“Fuck, Coach, look at all my muscles. Damn I look good. But bigger is better, right Coach?”

I nodded in agreement, excited to see where this himbofication process would end up taking him. For now, though I was just glad that it had led to Me. As vain as the himbo was about his own body, he never cared what others looked like – all he cared was about that hot action.

And as he looked over to his bear of a Coach, I was very happy to hear him say, “Hey Coach, how ’bouts this time we use the hot tub and ya join me?”

Soon he’d be off to the gay bars and circuit parties living his best himbo life, but for now he was all mine.