Author’s Note: Everything contained here is fantasy and does not reflect the author’s personal or political views. This is much darker than my normal content. The following ‘script’ is meant to be a dystopian fantasy, blurring the line between erotic and unsettling.
“Feminist rebel is captured on camera!”
Webcam footage of a terrorist woman is leaked! For everyone saying this was staged: LOL look at this bitch’s face!!!
It was the newest viral trend. “Ahgg-ing” the kids called it.
The basic premise was simple: get stupid enough that you reflexively made the ‘Ahgg’ face (‘ahego’ to the old timers).
At first, everyone was doing it. Celebrities, Instagram models, Twitch streamers. But then things started to escalate.
Soon, it wasn’t enough to pretend to be stupid. Now you needed to be truly be ‘Brain Drained’.
TMZ started running hit-pieces on celebrities caught ‘faking’ Ahgg faces. BuzzFeed made listicles on the best ways to actually, temporarily, reduce your IQ (#7 was sleep deprivation, #5 was pot, #2 was nitrous, #1 was edging with all of the above).
More feminist-forward sites like Jezebel wrote lengthy posts on how to responsibility Ahgg. The cover of Teen Vogue loudly declared “Brain Drain on your own terms!”.
A cottage industry popped up overnight of Ahgg ‘supplements’. They were everywhere. When a Kardashian backed brand launched (‘B1MBO2’) it sold out everywhere, from 7-11 to GNC.
At the end of the year heath experts started to raise concerns about how permanent the effects were. The FDA’s report on oxygen deprivation and permanent brain damage came too late.
By the time the public was aware of the long term impact of true Ahgg-ing, no one cared. All the major influencers, from Twitter to Snapchat, were mindless, giggling bimbos.
It was cool to get your brains literally fucked out on camera. Social media sites had to relax their content standards to stay relevant. Seven top ten posts on YouTube were girls going Full Bimbo, having their IQ points drained while orgasming. The most of them were the cocksucking method, but lesbian assisted ‘conversion’ was also popular.
In the end, this generation was left with millions of dumb, horny teens; unable to have a future beyond performing and fucking. There was some moral panic about the future of the country, but that quickly quieted down with the baby boom.
Soon, a new class of mother’s were everywhere. The original Ahgg-ing generation, raising the next wave of airheaded teens.
Now, we’re bracing for the Bimbo Boom, as the media has taken to calling it. Everyone’s speculating on what will happen to society, how norms and fashion will change.
Me? I’m just happy to have a near infinite pick of objectified sluts. In person, on TV and online, there’s no shortage of mindless girls to watch and use.
I can’t wait for my daughter’s ‘graduation’ this May. I know she and her friends will blow up the porn scene, just like her mother.
They’re already planning a ‘forced conversion’ series, with anti-bimbo resistance members fucked into submission. It’s all smoke and mirrors, with some consenting actress playing the victim, but I think it’s going to be big. She has a bright future ahead of her.
Warning: contains race play and forced/non-con transformation. There’s also some seriously questionable parallels to domestic violence.
Harold exhausted and distracted. The notes on the clipboard in front of him blurred and swam. He rubbed his eyes and tried to refocus.
It had been a long week. His wife had formally begun the divorce process. He had received the court summons in the mail yesterday. Until now, he had held out for a glimmer of hope that she would have a change of heart, come to her senses and try to make it work again. Now, she was moving to deny him custody of their 17 year old. He still couldn’t believe how quickly she had soured to him.
Be blinked away the cobwebs and began reading again, mouthing the words. Increased libido in the male mice. Passiveness in the females. Mice with brown spots turning totally dark. What the hell had these guys been up to?
The test results were ridiculous. Whatever their initial intention had been, there was no way this could be a successful trial run. He supposed that’s why they had called him in in the first place. He was there to clean up their mess, to try and salvage some practical application from this disaster of an experiment.
Of course, his wife was the more qualified one. They had both been postdocs together when they first met. She had long since transitioned out of the lab, but Gina had been unbelievably good with this sort of thing. In his darker moments, Harold wondered if she was the reason he had been able to get as far ahead in his career as he had. Her emotional support aside, Gina had been the first person he would go to whenever he became mired down in the testing process.
He shook his head. He was dwelling on her again. The fact he still had to go through the same motions every day, the same motions that he had once looked forward to every morning when he was still young and in love. When he would daydream about getting closer to the beautiful Asian girl in his University lab.
Harold was so distracted, he failed to notice one of the mice had squirmed its way off of the Lucite tray in front of him. It wasn’t until the rodent hit the floor, letting out an audible “squeak!”. He snapped out of it, ducking down quickly to scoop up the mouse, banging his elbow against the table. The whole thing rattled, shifting the tubes and canisters around.
Still bent over, smarting from the pain, Harold was at perfect level when the aerosol canister discharged.