himbo cow

Himbo Jailbreak

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Arnold, or Arny as he’d begrudgingly gone by for years, rechecked his notes for the upcoming presentation. A bigwig was going to be in today for a spot review of the facility and part of that included a review of his work in re-domesticating the troublesome bull Augy.

Augy had entered the facility as a captive from a breakaway herd out west. Since day one he’d been nothing but trouble. At the best of times he could be mildly cooperative, following orders that his slow bull brain managed to understand would get him something he wanted. The rest of the time, he was a lost cause.

Throughout his experiments, or more accurately described as trial and error, Arny had only found one trick to keep the troublesome wild bull placated. That being a constant supply of cows so that he may fuck himself into a post nut stupor. The primary problem? How the hell was he supposed to re-domesticate this bull if the only think keeping him from rampage was a constant stream of what should be rewards!

This assignment had been nothing but a white elephant from the beginning for Arny.

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Himbo Prison

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Harsh floresint light wafted down between the thick reinforced bars into the small room. Pure white, it lacked any color, any windows, any smudge of occupation. The hum of various machines filled the room. The beeping of a heart monitor, the hissing of oxygen lines, the groans of a hydraulic motor.

Augy’s eyes slowly opened before tightly closing once more. Blinded, he took his time for vision to return. The blur in his mind was thicker than normal. Groggily, he slowly looked around the room.

On the far side stood a man dressed in a mediocre and ill-fitting suit. His gut had just reached the point that it started drooping over his waistband. Counter to this were his arms, which hugged the wool sleeves tightly before trailing down to big, callused hands. “What’s the prognosis, Doctor?”

The man he spoke to was shorter and very thin. His nearly anorexic construction barely filled the shoulders off his long white coat that threatened to slip off if he didn’t keep his elbows wide. His thick glasses seemed to drag his face into the clipboard he was reading. “No broken bones. Musculature in good order. Haven’t looked at his cock since the ketamine’s had him to nocked out for stimulation, but the multiple STI’s I’ve already treated leads me to believe it’s working fine.”

The suited man realized Augy was awake and was staring at him intently. “And his mind? Can he be reintegrated?”

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Himbo Containment Squad

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“Private” Robert Curry let the barrel of his M16 sway between his legs as he laid his head back. He did his best to ignore the swaying and bouncing of the specially modified van as it moved to their destination. The intelligence report he’d been issued indicated that the winter snow had finally receded to beyond their destination, but the road was still a trail of mud.

Curry was attempting to complete his pre-mission meditation despite the occasional nausea, but it was getting the better of him. “Private” was a bit of a misnomer. Curry entered the Army right out of high school, having signed up his junior year. His athletic ability, dedication, and willingness to follow orders earned him a spot in special forces where he served two tours. If the pay wasn’t shit, he wouldn’t have gone private.

Unable to meditate, he relented to think about the mission. It was almost unheard of for the group to conduct an operation in America herself, but Sarge told him that the client had done it a few times before. Still, the normalness made Curry a little uneasy.

The driver leaned over his shoulder to address the passengers. “ETA 3 minutes.”

Curry picked up his rifle and gave a quick once over to ensure he was ready. Helmet with night vision, check. Uncomfortable bullet proof plate vest, check. Sidearm, check. Bear spray and club, check. He was ready.

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Himbo Contact

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Having just left his brother’s house, Nguyen Bao, or Bao Nguyen as he’d learned to introduce himself as in America, was driving in the remote wilderness. Bao had passed midlife over a decade before, but he still didn’t consider himself old. The highly physical job of plumbing had kept him in good shape for his age, even if all the bending over would occasionally tweak his back.

Directly to his right sat Lian, his youngest son. While loving all of his children, everyone knew Lian was the favorite. Lian had just returned home from completing his masters a week prior and they’d decided to take to visit family before Lian was dragged across the country for work.

With Bao’s brother living several hours out from the city, it gave him the perfect opportunity to partake in one of his favorite activities, hiking. After him and his family were mercifully rescued from Saigon, Bao quickly learned to love the natural beauty of his new home. Living in the city for work, he rarely got to imbibe in this passion.

Bao’s brother had given them specific instructions to use the BLM (Bureau of Land Management) lands to the south and to avoid the north at all costs. His brother had refused to go into specific detail, but bao understood something dangerous was occurring up there.

Unfortunately, Bao and Lian lacked a natural sense of direction. The overcast weather removed the sun as an orientational guide and their plan lacking a specific destination; they had gotten turned around. Rather than driving south for a fun afternoon of hiking, they were traveling north.

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Himbo Reconciled

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John drew his truck to a halt about a half mile out from the old, abandoned resort. A big lad he was tall and burly for his age as he’d turned 18 just a few weeks back. Getting out of his truck, he walked the rest of the distance, hoping to keep his presence unknown.

His father, Sargent Daniel Powers had been assigned to investigate the series of disappearances that were mounting. Even one of his friends went missing shortly after his birthday. The day before, his father told him about checking out the abandoned resort turned ranch or production facility, something like that, to see if they were affected or if the culprit was hiding out there. His father hadn’t come home that night.

Current scuttlebutt was that the local sheriff wanted to bring in the state national guard to run a sweep of the whole county. While not a densely populated area, that was a large swath of land to cover and could take weeks. John didn’t possess that kind of patience and decided to take a look for himself.

Seeing the gate come into view, he saw no one watching the entrance. Out of an abundance of precaution, John took a hard turn into the forest. The camo hunting jacket and pants concealed his mass while the thick undergrowth obscured his movement. This area of the forest wasn’t properly cared for, leaving many noise producing obstacles underfoot, but he’d been hunting enough times to keep his foot work quiet.

Nearing the edge of the treelined and good groundcover, John could look onto the main entrance. Sure enough, his father’s squad car was there. From the distance, it appeared untouched. John could only surmise that his father had run into trouble deeper in the complex.

Right as he was about to leave his cover to take a closer look, a very loud series of stampings and shuffling echoed through the forest from deeper in. John calmed his breath and listened.

The noise was so loud that he quickly realized it was coming towards him and it consisted of multiple masses. Lightning fast, he processed the options. ‘Do I stay and hope to not be spotted or come back later with backup?’

John chose the latter. Long before the source of the noises came into view, he’d backed off. Quickly but quietly, he went back to his truck and worked his way back down the mountain.

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Himbo Containment Breech

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Part 5 of the Himbo series.

Gerald tightly ran his hands through his rapidly thinning hair as the read the incident report before him. Two incidents in as many weeks. Two employees under his care transformed into himbos. Two instances where he failed to demonstrate control of the himbos. Gerald knew he was about to be fired.

The rational parts of his brain knew this was coming. The fact that no one in the history of ever had tried to control such a large number of himbos in this manor was irrelevant to corporate. By law their only focus was maximizing profits for the elite few shareholders that owned the company. Everything else, like expected failures on a new project, was irrelevant to them.

After checking his work for the 10th time, he pressed send on the email. Gerald had managed to hold off reporting it for four days while he tried to ensure he had control, but he couldn’t procrastinate it any longer. He sat back in his chair and waited the phone call he knew was coming.

Auston’s knees were aching as he stood guard near the outskirts of the temporary bull pen. He’d been standing there for over an hour, working as backup for the team of guards who normally worked with the bulls, and was itching to get back to overseeing the sweet and docile cows he was accustomed to.

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Himbo Ranch

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Part 3 of the Himbo series.

Sitting in the back of a corporate van, Ronald let his mind wonder as the foliage raced past. Thoughts of the boring and mundane accounting that filled his work life popped into his head, but he did his best to let them pass. After all, this was supposed to be a company paid vacation.

After a recent accident left Augustus, now known as Augy, the top hander in the company reduced to a simple himbo bull, corporate was in a tough spot. Augustus’s proposal for a more centralized production facility was still regarded as a good direction for the company to move towards, but without his on the ground inputs the project had stalled. This was especially true after Ronald and the other money men demonstrated that having their central production center in the heart of a metro would greatly reduce profits.

It had been Ronald’s ingenuity that brought the higher up’s attention to a recently defunct mountain resort that could be easily adapted to fill their needs. Through many long nights, Ronald was able to demonstrate exactly how much production costs would decrease from the proposed site. Plus, being in a rural location, the odds of an unexpecting passerby being seduced by the charming himbos, and therefore being transformed, were greatly reduced.

For all of his hard work, corporate rewarded Ronald with a trip to the production facility and then a week in any location he desired. The production facility offered little interest to him, but an all-expenses paid trip to Mumbai was more than he could have hoped for.

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Himbo Milk

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This is inspired by a recent tweet by @HeavenHimbo on twitter.

Dustin sat in his doctor’s office waiting room patiently for his time with the doctor. He found the office relaxing; quiet, clean, and bright, he could easily read his thick novel. Absentmindedly, his short legs swung forward and backward as they didn’t reach the floor. His thin, almost frail torso took up less than half the chair as his thick bottle cap glasses dragged his face down, into his book.

Dustin was so enthralled in his book that he hadn’t noticed there was someone siting next to him until the man spoke.

“Sup brah? Whatcha readin?”

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