“It’s called the BrainPower Clinic?” Maya said as her boyfriend of three years unhooked her bra. He towered over her as she laid on their shared bed in their shared apartment. He had just taken his shirt off, and as she spoke, she was busy admiring, even after all this time, his abs.

With her bra off, her boyfriend, Max, began slowly massaging her breasts. Maya always wondered how he could be so good at boob massages. It was something about his hands. They were so soft, and so careful. After a minute of quiet joy, he finally decided to answer the question: “Yes, it is. I know the name is weird, but it sounds like a cool experience, doesn’t it?”

“It does sound . . . hot,” Maya said, in between soft sighs and light breaths. She was slowly approaching her happy place, where she could just close her eyes, turn her brain off, and feel herself being touched.

Max was getting there, too. Atop of his girlfriend like he was, he felt powerful. He loved the feeling of being in control, touching her however and wherever he wanted. And it made it so much better that Maya loved the feeling of letting him control her. As his hands roamed down Maya’s body towards her engorged sex, he thanked God for his relationship. It was perfect. The one thing that he could always count on to keep him going.

Maya was thinking the same – until she decided to let herself go, and lose herself to pleasure. But before she did, she squeaked out a single sentence: “Let’s go and see it tomorrow, then.”

 

***

 

Class for Maya the next day was half-and-half: the lazier half of students nearly falling asleep at their desks, and the brighter half of the students wrapped up in the details of her lecture. She decided to ignore the bored half and cater as much as she could to her favorites, the ones who actually gave a shit.

“Now we have a notion of what it means to evaluate e to the i theta,” she said, pointing at a complicated diagram she had made on the board. A panoply of lines, arrows, numbers, and labels in varying colors danced atop a 2-d coordinate plane. “So we can move ahead, closer to answering our original question – what is e to the i pi equal to? To do so, we’ll have to bring in some helpful Taylor series approximations.”

With great energy and passion, she proceeded through her lecture, writing down line after line of her proof. By the time she was done, she could tell the brighter half of the room was stunned. Euler’s identity was always her favorite lesson of the year for exactly that reason. To the educated mind, it was a thing of great, profound beauty.

“We’ll have one more class period next week to review for the final,” she announced at the end of things, putting down her chalk. “So make sure to bring in questions! See you then!”

The class filed out as she began erasing the whiteboard in her room. A few students came up to tell her how impressive the lecture was. It was days like these that made those years and years of graduate school spent pent up in her room pondering mathematical theorems worth it.

Her phone buzzed from between her boobs. Gah! She was so wrapped up in the lecture that she forgot she put it there. She always thought Victoria’s secret compartment was useful (after all, she bemoaned, her fucking skirt didn’t have pockets), but when she pulled out the phone, it was covered in sweat. “Ick,” she said, wiping it down with a nearby tissue.

Once she punched in her password, a new message popped up on her screen. It was from Max: “I’m outside. Is your class over yet? Also, did you still want to go that clinic?”

Clinic? She thought. What’s he – ooooh. That clinic. His description of the BrainPower Clinic from the previous night returned to her, although, she was embarrassed to admit to herself, it was a little hazy, since she was so distracted by the fucking they were doing.

Max stood beside his tiny black Honda, waiting at the door that Maya always left from. He loved seeing her coming from class. She always had this glow to her when she had just finished teaching. Maybe it made her look more confident, or maybe it was just that she always tried to be well put together for her job. But there was something decidedly sexy about seeing her descend the steps of a hundred-year old building dressed to the nines. He just loved smart people, he guessed.

The door opened. She looked as good as ever, he thought. Her long blond hair tumbled down her head and over her shoulders, bunching into tight curls. It perfectly framed her cute face, with her little nose, and her subtle but beautiful make-up. Her C-cups fit perfectly into her red blazer, and her red skirt, cut just after her kneecaps, tightly hugged her wide hips.

Maya gave Max a peck on the cheek and climbed into his car. “You look like a horny freshman’s wet dream today,” he said.

“Hey! I just like to look good! Is that such a crime?” she said, playfully hitting him on the shoulder as he revved his engine. They pulled away from the college, towards the highway.

“No. But I swear, one of these days you’ll be bringing home some hot young upperclassman to replace me, and I’m not going to be happy about it,” Max said, smiling. He loved teasing Maya. Seeing her pout and get angry only made her cuter. She knew that he did it to push her buttons, but if she was being honest with herself, she kinda liked it too.

“Oh please. Nobody could replace you,” she said, deciding to opt for the sweet route instead of continuing the game. But it was true. She found herself staring at her boyfriend as he drove, lost in his shaggy brown hair and his strong arms, with his famously soft hands. Her eyes wandered down his chest, undressing him like she had last night, removing his tight plain white tee to reveal his hard abs, and unzipping his dark blue jeans to reveal his big cock.

“Like what you see?” he said, without taking his eyes off the road. Maya immediately diverted her gaze, her cheeks suddenly blushing a deep red hue. She didn’t even realize she was looking at him like that. But it was only natural when your boyfriend was as hot as hers.

“So did you get my text?” he said.

“Yeah. Are we going straight there from here?” Maya responded.

“Oh? I assumed you’d wanna stop home first and change,” he said. The tiny Honda zoomed down the highway, approaching the exit for their apartment.

“I – well, uh – honestly, the more I think about it, the more I want to see this place. Can we just go straight there? It sounds too good to be true,” she said, twiddling her thumbs and trying to look away from Max.

Max smirked. “Of course. Anything for you, love. I wanted to see it, too.”

 

***

 

Maya was surprised by the look of the clinic’s interior. The whole place looked very clean and very new. It had shiny leather chairs and a red suede carpet in the waiting room. A shockingly well-endowed receptionist took their information, gave them some paperwork to fill out, and told the two of them to take a seat and wait.

As she waited, Maya looked out the window, down into the parking lot, where Max’s car sat. They were high up – on the sixth floor. The building they were in housed a few stores, a dentist’s office, and a throat doctor. But whatever this clinic was, she had never heard of another like it. She wondered what would happen. Would somebody come out and just do it to her? Would they tell her what it was like? How much did it cost? How long did it last? Her head was swimming with questions. But also with desires. More than anything, her heart burned with curiosity.

Finally, a man in some turquoise medical scrubs emerged from behind a door and called Max’s name. The two of them followed the man, who led them through a series of windy hallways to a little open area with two seats for them and a swivel seat for him.

“Welcome to the BrainPower Clinic,” he said. “I’m Doctor Jay. So you two indicated that you were here to learn about some of the services we offer, right?”

“And maybe try some,” Maya blurted out. Max looked at her, surprised, but not offended. “I mean, uh, but probably not today,” she said. Why was she so nervous?

“Well, that’s no problem. Let’s take a look at your paperwork . . . hm . . . you are most interested in the Brain Drain?”

Maya didn’t want to say yes, even if it was true. “Yeah,” Max finally said. Maya’s body was getting very hot all of a sudden. She gripped her arm nervously, and looked away from him.

“So the Brain Drain is a procedure where one of you will undergo a temporary period of imbecility,” he said. “This period lasts as long as you want, and it is intensified by sexual contact with your partner. The other of you will experience a temporary period of enlightened consciousness, which is the result of absorbing the brain power of your partner. The whole process has no permanent effects, and is completely reversible. It’s one of the first services we began to offer, and we’ve been through many clients who experienced the Brain Drain safely and pleasurably.”

“Wow,” Max said. “Uh, so how does it work? Like, is there a shot or a pill or something? Are we supposed to do it at home, or here, or . . .?”

Maya wrapped her legs together. She was struggling to keep herself under control. But the more the man described the Brain Drain, the hotter she was getting. She imagined herself under the effects of the process, dumbly licking at Max’s body as he took total control of her. Why did the idea of being a dumb slut turn her on so much? She thought she had come to terms with her kink, but talking about actually living out her fantasy with this random doctor in some bizarre office building was making her really uncomfortable.

“The whole process is triggered by both of you taking a simple pill. The pill is taken orally, with some water, and its effects take place quickly, within 15-30 minutes. It lasts for a few hours. We have some facilities here for our couples to use, though you can also take it home and enjoy it there.”

“Sound pretty incredible,” Max said, leaning forward in his seat. “What do you think, Maya?”

Maya had to pull herself out of her head. She really wanted to try it. Right now. But what if she didn’t like it? It was all so strange. “Um, I don’t know,” she lied. “W-what do you think Max?”

“Honestly,” he started, “I think it’d be interesting. But you know me, love. It’s about what you want. If you don’t want to try it, we can just go home, or come back another time.”

Maya could tell that he was sensing her nervousness. He had given her a convenient escape route if she thought she couldn’t handle things. But! – but if she went home now, she thought, she wasn’t sure if she could find the courage to come back. If this was going to happen, she would have to do it right now. And she wanted to do it right now. So . . .

“Well, uh, if you want to, then I guess I could try it . . .” she said.

Max grabbed her by the hands, looking into her eyes. They were two deep, perfect pools of blue. “You sure?” he said to her.

She gulped. “Yes,” she said, somehow finding her confidence. “I’m sure.”

“Great,” Dr. Jay said. “Taking the treatment home would come out to about $100, while the treatment using our facilities here would cost about double.”

“Here,” Maya blurted again. She needed to get this over with. Max smirked. He didn’t mind. He nodded in agreement at the man.

“Great,” said the man again, pulling out a small vial of pills from the desk his computer sat on. “Right this way,” he said, leading them down yet more hallways. Eventually they arrived at a small room, with a wide, comfy-looking bed, a desk with a lamp and some glasses of water, and a few scented candles.

“Which of you will be undergoing imbecility?” the main said.

“Me,” said Maya softly.

He handed them each a pill. “These should be the right pills for each of you. There’s water for them on the desk. Do you need anything else from me right now?” he said.

They said they were good. He left, closing the door behind them, and wishing them a good time. Maya stared at her pill, nervous and excited. It was tiny, pale, and blue, just like her birth control. The first thing she did was sit on the bed, making sure not the drop the pill. She breathed heavily.

“What’s wrong love?” Max said, sitting beside her. He placed his pill on the desk. “You look really anxious.”

“Sorry,” Maya said. “It’s just that I’m nervous. I’m afraid I’ll like it too much. Being dumb, I mean.”

He held her around her waist. “Don’t worry. With a brain like yours, you could never stay dumb for long. You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met. Even as a dummy, you’ll probably be smarter than me.”

She let out a long, deep exhale. Max always knew just the right thing to say, didn’t he? Although it wasn’t true that he was dumb. Sure, he didn’t have a PhD in theoretical mathematics, but he knew his way around a classroom. They met in undergrad, when she was taking an art class to fulfill a requirement. He may not be able to understand Euler’s identity, but Maya knew she could never paint flowers as well as he could. And he could name, in order, every painting ever done by Monet. She smiled and relaxed a bit, thanking God that she had such an awesome boyfriend. He was the only thing that could keep her going, no matter what.

“You’re not dumb. But thanks, I do feel better now.” She let out another deep breath. “Let’s take the pills.”

Max smiled. They each took a cup of water in their left hands, and their pill in the other. They clinked their cups together, saying cheers, then downed their pills with their water. After swallowing, they put the cups back down and stared at each other.

“So, uh . . . what now?” Maya asked.

“Well, he said it takes a little bit to kick in. So maybe we can get comfortable by then,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. Maya giggled, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling them both down into a kiss. Unlike his massages, Max’s kisses were rough. Maya liked it when he would pull on her tongue until it felt like it was going to break, and then release it. He was so . . . dominant.

After a while spent locking lips, Maya had to break the kiss because of an intense itch in her nose. She turned away from Max, sitting up for a second. “Aah – AAH – AAAAHHCOOOO!” she sneezed. It felt like the hardest she had ever had. It actually really hurt.

“Ow,” she said, rubbing her head.

“What was that about?” said Max.

“I don’t know. I just needed to sneeze really badly,” she said. “Uh. I think it was so bad it gave me a headache.”

Max pondered. “A headache, huh? Are you . . . suddenly having trouble remembering things?”

“What?” Maya said. “No. What do you mean?”

“It could be the pill,” he said. “If its attacking your intelligence, maybe that’s why you feel a headache.”

Maya considered the thought. “I guess it could be,” she said. “But I still – ah. Aaah, AAAH, AAAAHCHOO!” she sneezed again. “Ow,” she said again, once she had recovered from the recoil. “My head feels . . . fuzzy.”

Max grabbed her by the shoulders and cradled her in his arms. He laid her head on his chest and looked up at his sharp chin. His forearms laid comfortably across her boobs. She was getting to be pretty wet. “What do you mean by ‘fuzzy’?”

“I don’t know,” Maya said. “I just, like . . . you know when you, like, can’t remember something?”

“It sounds like you’re becoming stupid,” he gently whispered.

She sniffled. “Uh, I don’t think I am . . . uh . . . hm.” She said. “Do you feel any smarter?”

“No, not smarter. I’m not even sure what that would feel like, honestly. But my head does feel . . . clearer, than usual, for some reason,” he said.

“Maybe that’s like, the first step to like, becoming super smart?” she giggled. But maybe he was right. Was this what it felt like to be dumb? She wasn’t sure. She tried to think of the research she was currently working for her job. She could picture the graphs and the equations, but something about them felt all . . . blurry. She couldn’t actually remember what they were, or what they meant, just that they existed. It was an alarming feeling. Would she still remember all of her life’s work, once this was done?

But as alarming it was, it also felt good. She really wanted to give in and just let it fly away. So she did. She closed her eyes and pictured the equations flying off and disintegrating. She let out a deep sigh. A incredible tension suddenly vanished from her shoulders. She didn’t realize she was even carrying it, but once she said goodbye to all her smarty-stuff, she was at ease. No longer (at least not for now) was she responsible for being the smart, put-together, high-achieving woman she was used to being every day of her life. Not only did she not have too – she literally couldn’t. As she relaxed, sinking deeper and deeper into Max’s arms, she felt her brain slipping more and more. Soon she couldn’t remember any of topology, or what it was even about. And then went flying undergrad, and then calculus, and algebra, and even arithmetic . . . she was becoming not just dumb, but a complete imbecile. And it felt really fucking good.

Max had begun messaging her nipples through her blazer. As she forgot things, he heard her release soft little sighs of pleasure. For some reason, he felt like he understood what was going on. Without really doing anything, he now understood how the pills worked. Perhaps it was the effects of the pills themselves, he thought. No, it had to be. He suddenly knew that Maya would slowly lose her years and years of study, and as she did, she would come closer and closer to becoming a dumb cum-dumpster. He rubbed his hard cock against her back, already horny at the idea. And he felt more . . . powerful? Like more literally powerful, he mused, staring at his arms, more muscular than they were before. The pills must have a physical effect too, he thought. He took a close look at Maya.

He discovered he wasn’t the only one whose body was changing. As he rubbed Maya’s nipples, he felt her boobs swell, slowly growing a cup size. His legs tensed up. Fuck, he thought. I need to get her shirt off. He started unbuttoning her blazer rapidly, which she let him do. That doctor said that the transformation was accelerated by sexual contact, Max thought. They were going to fuck anyway, of course. But now he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to feel what it would be like. If he absorbed Maya’s intelligence, he would be . . . a genius.

Maya writhed under his touch, softly cooing as he removed her shirt, then picked her up and placed her on the bed beneath him. Together they wiggled off her skirt, and he unhooked her bra. Her big, floppy D-cups bounced free, looking especially raw and succulent. He started tenderly licking her nipples as he tore off his shirt. Maya crossed her legs, trying hard to keep her pussy from exploding at the feeling. Now her transformation into a dumb slut was accelerating. With each lick she was losing swaths of her smarts: she had already forgotten the rest of her schooling, and how to do laundry, how to cook (not that she was ever good at that anyway) and how to give advice. Her mind was swimming in a sea of pleasure, free from the burden of thought. All she could think about was how badly she needed cock. She needed Max’s cock. In her. Right now.

“Uh, Max?” she squeaked out. Her voice was higher pitched, too. Opening her eyes for the first time in a while, she saw her new huge breasts, and her hair had gotten even longer, curling and leaping around the bed sheets like a sea of blonde waves. The sight of herself made her even more wet. She had become a fucking bimbo. But then she saw Max towering above her. He seemed, somehow, even stronger than usual. He had switched to holding her waist and kissing her stomach. After each kiss, he came up to look at her. He had a fierce brightness in his eye, like he was thinking about something. For the first time, she thought to herself, how awesome it was to have a boyfriend who was so much brighter and smarter than her. She, such a lowly dummy, was so totally lucky to have him! He could take care of her.

“What’s up Maya?” he said, breathing heavily.

“Take my . . . undies . . . I, uh . . .,” she was having trouble even putting sentences together, because all the nerves in her body were on fire.

“Oh don’t worry,” he said, reaching down for her underwear and pulling them off. There, before him, was her bright pink labia, raring to go. “I’ll fuck you good, my little slave.” She cooed and writhed, feeling his words run through her like an electric current. God, he was like, so totally hot!

Max struggled to quickly remove his tight jeans. His mind was racing. The more he touched Maya, the more that came to him: although he had never been good at Math, his mind was suddenly flooded with pictures of graphs and long paragraphs worth of theorems, which he somehow actually understood. It was shocking to him. But it felt amazing, to understand all these things. They were beautiful – just the structure of them, how all the pieces of the puzzle fit together. Was this, he marveled, what Maya felt like every day?

Finally, his pants and underwear were off. Maya stared at his penis, two inches longer than usual, and shuddered.

Then he put it in her.

Her brain went haywire. All she could think of was how hot it felt as his thick cock plunged deeper into her, and began rocking in and out. This was totally what she wanted, she thought to herself. All she was, like, good for now was fucking. Her head swirled with cotton candy and pictures of wet cocks. As he thrust into her over and over, she bounced up and down, feeling her breasts slap her chest over and over. Her transformation was complete. She was a bimbo.

Thrusting deep into her girlfriend, Max had finished his half of the Brain Drain, too. His mind surged with the details of Maya’s topological research. It was fucking fascinating. He looked at his girlfriend. Sure, right now, she was a useless slut. But finally seeing the inner reaches of her mind made him love her more, if that was even possible. How was he so lucky as to deserve her? He began to cry hot tears as he thrusted. His whole body was on fire. He was in total control now, and could take as long as he wanted. But he needed to cum, now.

“Get ready,” he said, feeling a wave of lust and power building up in his groin.

“I’m ready!” she screamed.

Max gave one final thrust, and his penis pulsed, erupting with fiery, hot cum. He was afraid his dick was going to explode. All the nerves in Maya’s body screeched, and her thirsty vagina began lapping it up as quickly as it could. She writhed in the bed, feeling the muscles in her legs and back grow tense, and then, all at once, everything released, and she felt like she was pricked by a thousand needles. And then it was over. She flopped onto the bed, exhausted, mind swimming in a bath of hormones and semen. Max pulled out, panting and sweating. Holy fuck, he thought. That was the best sex of my life.

He crawled over to Maya, who, besides her light breathing, was basically passed out. She had a huge, dumb smile plastered all over her face. He snuggled up beside her, making her the little spoon, and then pulled the covers over them. They laid there in the beautiful silence, just feeling each other’s body heat. And they slept.

 

***

 

Maya was the first to wake up. She blinked awake, feeling Max’s arms wrapped around her. Careful not the wake him, she turned her head to look, and saw him with the softest, happiest smile she had even seen. Her heart thumped.

She laid her head back on her pillow, and tried to close her eyes again, falling back into her sweet dreams. Was she still dumb? She thought, trying to conjure up images of her work. While they felt hazy, she realized she could remember again how to take derivatives. Its slowly coming back, she said, feeling happy. She remembered the intense rush of having Max take control of her while she was dumber than a door nail. But the feeling of letting her intellect – really, herself – come back to her was reassuring. She didn’t want to be stupid forever. She loved her work, after all.

Maya slowly drifted back to sleep, dreaming of Max doing equations at a white board . . .

 

***

 

At breakfast the next day, the two of them sat quietly, munching on bowls of stale, old cheerios. Their tiny little apartment was damp and cool, and a small, faint light burned over their heads. They had ants crawling by one of the cupboards. But despite it all, they looked at each other. And they were happy.

“That was incredible. Yesterday I mean,” he said. “I’m still thinking about it.”

Maya stuck a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. “Same,” she said, wiping milk from her chin with a napkin. “It felt really good. It was incredible to live out my fantasy. Though I’m glad it’s over,” she said. “That stuff feels good in the moment, but I wouldn’t want it to last forever.”

“Me neither,” Max said, smiling. “But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t do it again sometime, does it?”

“Oh, we definitely will,” she said. “But I need a little while. And we can’t just go around spending 200 dollars anytime we want.”

“Maybe for our anniversary,” Max said, dropping his cereal bowl into the sink.

“Maybe,” said Maya, doing the same.

They kissed. “Okay, I’ll see your after work,” said Maya, scratching the side of Max’s head.

“Love you,” said Max. “Love you too,” said Maya. She started leaving, walking towards the door. She opened it.

“Wait,” said Max, building up the courage to speak up. He was in the hallway, looking at her standing in the doorway. She was perfect.

“When the pill made me smarter, I got to, uh, understand your research,” he said, blushing.

“Oh yeah?” Maya said, intrigued. She swung her keys around her finger. “Tedious stuff, huh?”

“Actually,” said Max, “It was incredible. I don’t remember what it was anymore, but in the moment, it was really, um . . . really beautiful.”

Now it was Maya’s turn to blush. She looked at her boyfriend, standing in the hallway, admiring what she did. He was so perfect.

“Um . . . thanks,” she said, feeling her eyes well up with tears. “That means a lot to me. You don’t know how much, but it does.”

Max smiled. “See you after work,” he said. Maya nodded, smiled, and left. He was alone again in the apartment, without the one person who could make staying in it bearable. So he turned to what he always did.

In the living room, set up by the couch, was a canvas. What would he be painting today? He wondered about his subject as he washed his brushes. And then, it came to him. He started with a line, and then another line. Maybe he couldn’t remember what it was, but he could remember how it felt. Wasn’t that the whole point of art? He felt the painting pour out of him. It would be beautiful. Even if it was just a graph.