Finn kept trying to fix himself, but the sentences he typed came out all wrong.
It was like basic syntax was evading him and his clumsy hooflets didn’t help at all. He wanted to fling the phone away when he typed ‘I am smart again’ and it gave him an error message. Something about what ‘again’ meant. What the fuck did it think ‘again’ meant?!
Of course, all the bull had to do was delete ‘again’, and he’d regain his faculties, but alas.
Dave shot his son glances as the shaggy bull snorted and huffed angrily. After another muffled ‘Fuck!’, he’d had enough and pulled over. The bull looked around, realizing they’d come to a stop. He looked over at his dad, saw the stern expression on his face and his shoulders slumped.
“Finn. Give me the phone.” Dave demanded, the ram’s voice hard.
Dave never raised his voice to his son. He knew his kid was slow and big and clumsy. However, sometimes you needed to be firm when raising a child and he was putting his foot down. The bull sighed and handed it over. Dave frowned and read the sentence.
“I am smart again? Chronivac? What is this?” Dave demanded.
“Magic.” Finn grunted.
Dave rolled his eyes and groaned. “Magic doesn’t exist, son.”
“Real!” Finn insisted.
The ram snorted and shook his head. “Fine, you just type a sentence here and it comes true, right?”
Finn nodded.
Dave smirked, erasing the old sentence and typing ‘I have balls the size of grapefruits’ and hit enter. Nothing happened, of course. He didn’t notice the sizeable bulge in his son’s shorts generously swell, the musk in the small space increasing. As a side affect of all that extra testosterone, the bull’s muscles swelled thicker, cock growing another two inches.
He was going to show his son that obviously nothing had happened when he realized how lewd his sentence was. He erased it. What would be more appropriate and clearly demonstrate to his son that it wasn’t real?
“Hurry. Dad.” Finn grunted.
“Don’t have a cowman.” Dave smirked.
“Daaaad!” Finn groaned. He hated when his dad made stupid puns.
“Oh, I know!” Dave hurriedly typed ‘Finn likes my jokes’ and hit enter.
An error popped up. ‘No third person sentences’. Dave blinked as slow realization filtered into his brain. The device was on his son’s phone, meaning any ‘I’ sentences would refer to Finn. He glanced at his son’s shorts. Was he…bigger down there?
Nah, he had to be imagining things.
Instead, following the rules, Dave typed ‘I have a high libido. I always have a dildo up my ass when it isn’t in use by my boyfriend, Jeff.’ and hit enter. He chuckled, knowing that even if he didn’t show the message to his son, he’d certainly know it was just a scam app and not magic.
“Mmmroooo!” Finn exclaimed as a thick rubber cock shoved itself up his virginal ass, stretching him wide.
He squirmed in his seat, the dildo in his ass bumping his prostate over and over again. A wet spot formed on the front of his shorts, cock clearly erect. The barnyard musk smell grew heavier in the enclosed vehicle as the scent settled semi-permanently in the bull’s clothes. He was always horned up, after all.
Dave stared at the tent Finn was pitching, dumbfounded. He rolled down the window to air out the vehicle. Had the Chronivac actually worked, or was Finn pulling one over on him?
“Hey Finn, what were you going to change?”
“I wanaa…” Finn paused, adjusting himself. “I wanna go back to being a twink.”
That wouldn’t do. Dave set up some more changes. ‘I like who I am. I like hanging out with my dad. I like his jokes. I am a champion linebacker for my high school football team.’ Dave added the last because his son just wasn’t aggressive enough on the field. He surveyed the sentences then pressed enter.
He looked over at his son just in time to see the tension leave the increasingly more massive bull.
Finn relaxed back in his seat, muscles aching pleasantly as they swelled larger still, the growth fueled by hours at the gym. Whatever desperate urge that had gripped him before had completely left. He’d wanted to be smarter…but why would he want that? He was doing just fine. Sure, he had to study real hard, and talking was difficult. But he was dating the star quarterback, he was going to be a pro-football player like his father. Why would he endanger any of that for better grades?
Dave watched it all play out, wondering if he was dreaming. A few moments later and his son now stared at Dave placidly. It couldn’t be possible. There was just no way…He had to verify it. Maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to see.
“What did you want to change about yourself, champ?” Dave asked tentatively.
“Nothing.” Finn shrugged, rolling his boulder-like shoulders. “I like me.”
That was odd. He’d never shown what he’d typed to Finn. Time for another test.
“What do you call a sleeping bull?” Dave teased.
“What?”
“A bulldozer. Get it?” Dave said, waiting for his soon to groan.
Instead, his son chuckled happily. “You’re funny, Dad!”
The ram’s jaw dropped. Finn was a creature of habit, routine. The young bull was almost incapable of deception. Well, he lied really, really poorly, not smart enough to get away with it, anyways. Dave looked back down at the phone.