Tag: brainwash
One of Us now, bro
‘Ring’ the school bell rang for the end of the day
You get up out of your seat and rush out of the classroom, only one more day until the weekend.
“Hey” said Mike your best friend catching up to you as you walked out of school
“You excited for Saturday, so many announcements, all the super hero stuff and games. So cool” you said excitedly
“I can’t wait, I hope we don’t get too much homework tomorrow”
“It’s just math, we could do it in our sleep” said mike
“yeah I suppose. You want to come over tomorrow, we can do homework and then play games during the evening” you said
“yeah awesome” replied Mike
“See you tomorrow”
You saw Mike go and went on back to your house. However, you put your hands in your pocket to get out your notes for homework later on. You realize you have left them in your locker. You rush back to get them. As you enter the corridor, you see the last few people leave. You open your locker and look for the notes you can’t find them anywhere. You hear noises behind you someone walking but disregard it as finding your notes is more important. Someone stands in front of your locker, you can’t see their upper body just their legs as the locker door blocks it. You find your notes at the back and slam your locker door shut. You look at the guy in front of you. Big body build, wears a white T-shirt and black shorts, socks that go up to the knee’s and white and red trainers. His face had sharp features, clean shaven, green eyes, his was brown hair and had short sides which faded into the top and spiked up. That was Nick the leader of the jocks at school. Oddly he was looking at you, and scarier he looked mad.
“think you can talk shit about me and my bro’s, you fucking dweeb” he said angrily
“if this is about me going to Ms. Felix after last week, I…I…m sorry I didn’t mean and I won’t do it again” you say extremely frightened
“I don’t care fucking nerd” he finishes and proceeds to punch you in the stomach with incredible force, knocking you back and into the arms of someone else. They pick you by your legs and by your body. As you lie in their arms you keep blurring in and out of vision. The guy carrying you is big like Nick, but his facial features are different, he has a brown chinstrap stubble, his hair is short on the sides like every jock. But he’s wearing a backwards dark red jock cap. You recognize him as Jake another school bully jock. He’s speaking to Nick but you can’t make out what he’s saying. you enter a room and they lay you down on some benches before turning you on your belly. Your body is stripped down until you are naked. Then you suddenly awake as water is thrown over you. All the school jocks, including nick and Jake are staring at you now.
“Wake up fucking nerd” shouts Nick
The water you smell is intoxicating, wait what? Water doesn’t smell.
“What is this?”
“This boy is the teams collective sweat all put in to this bucket over the last week” said Nick
You try hold your breath but it’s impossible, you feel like you’re going to be sick.
“You see, last week wasn’t the only time you and your nerd friends insulted us behind our fucking backs. And we’ve decided we’ve had enough of your shit.”
“What are you going to do to me” you say fearful of any anger
“let’s just say it’s going to be a bit of an awakening”
“Please I will do all your homework and will never insult you again” you plead
The boys laugh at you.
“We don’t need your shit, dweeb, except for you to shut the fuck up” said Jake who took off his incredibly dirty jockstrap.
“I hope you like this, dweeb. Its fresh from five games and hours of training over the last four days”
You see him put it over your head and plead.
“No No No No No No N…” you plead quickly
He places the Jock strap over your head and gets some string tying the jock strap to your head. It covers your mouth. You try not to breath it in but it’s too much for you and give in letting the musky scent fill you head and body. The jocks pour the rest of the bucket of sweat of your body all over and then proceed to massage it in to your skin.
You look up to Nick, you can’t speak but your yes convey your emotion to him.
“Now let’s tie you up fucker so you don’t go anywhere” said Nick
The jocks tied your legs to a bar below the bench and your hands two the pegs above. You were stretched out and drenched in sweat. Tears fell down your face and you made obvious crying noises. The jocks still ignored you.
“well looks like your set for your night in the locker room fucker. Hope you enjoy your night and remember what happens when you fuck with the bro’s. Before I go though I will leave you something for tonight” said Nick
He got out a small audio playing device, he stuck the headphones in your ears and taped over them ensuring they didn’t fall out.
The jocks all left, Jake was last he locked back at you with his hand on the light switch and said.
“night night, don’t let the bed bugs bite” before switching off the lights leaving you in near complete darkness, the only light source was from the windows. You squirmed and made faint noises, due to the jock strap on your face, for the first few hours before you gave in. You began regretting what you said about the jocks. You started mentally creating your position socially below them, making sure that from now on you did as they said and accepted how they treated you. You looked down at the audio device. What was it for? You thought to yourself. Suddenly it came on and weird inaudible whispers where said. you couldn’t make any of it out. Slowly you became tired and felt sleepy. You shut your eyes allowing the musk and noises to work their magic on you.
You wake a few hours later. Still broken, still smelling musk from the jockstrap and sweat. Somehow it still smells fresh and new like you’re still smelling it for the first time. Your body feels different, numb. You look down and see that you are taller. Though still restrained, your feet have grown by double. Your legs look longer and muscly. Your cock has grown significantly, before you had 6-inch average, now you were 9 inch, no 11 inches. Your body has become fitter as well, before you had a small round belly with spots, now your torso was ripped slightly, it was still forming. Two massive pecs expanded until they dominated your upper body and below a 6 pack was forming, you saw each muscle pull in and the lines defining it come in to vision. You didn’t have the energy to look up at your hands that were tied. You took in all these new details but it took a while for you to figure anything out. What was this? You look over to the mirror in the bathroom and see your face. It had sharper details, no more spottiness. Your hair had changed too. Your sides had shrunk and turned short like all the jocks, it faded in to the top which was all spiked up like the jocks, you had light stubble over your face like the jocks. Your face was jock like and so was your body. You were quite literally turning into one of the bully jocks.
‘Oh god what have those fuckers done to me, when I get up I’m gonna… I’m gonna. Actually, I don’t what I’m going to do. Maybe play some football… no they need to pay for making me like this like them. for making me better, oh god what’s happening to my head’ your head was conflicting between staying a nerd and becoming a jock, though jock personality traits like over aggression took over.
You realized that the audio machine was brainwashing you of your nerdy thoughts and memories. You think to yourself in panic. You start doing math’s equations to maintain your sanity. You do simple addition and subtraction, and everything is fine. You start doing multiplication and everything is kind of fine, you take more time than usual to answer the questions. Then comes division, you do basic numbers, but after that you can’t do it, you keep trying remember but it becomes too much. You start tiring yourself out before, fatigue takes you. Before you sleep, you know that when you wake, you will be like them.
———————————————–
“What do you think the dweeb will be like?” said Jake excitedly
“If all went to plan, he should be one us” replied nick
“I don’t get it, why turn him into one of us? Why not prank him or beat him up?”
“cos we gotta show the nerds a new level torment we can do to them. Their used to being beat up and insulted, but changing one of their own in to one of our own, well that makes us scarier to them. Also, it fits as punishment for that nerd, he chatted shit about us many times, now he will treat us as his bro’s, he went to teachers and got us in detention and stuff, now he’s gonna be getting detention with us”
“I see, lets see him then”
The boys opened up into the locker. You were still tied up and sleeping.
“yo we got any more sweat to throw over him?”
“Nah threw it over him yesterday”
Nick lifted up your face gently and slapped you twice hard. You awake suddenly.
“get up fucker, you got a big day ahead of you” says nick untying you. Both Jake and nick fully untied you
“Wh…what happened to me bro’s” you say in your new deeper of voice
“We made you like us, before you were a nerd with nothing going for yourself, now you’re a superior Jock who can have any Girl or Boy in school, bro”
“but studying and tests”
“who cares, we got football and fitness”
“yeah right, thanks bro” your jock mind was now setting in taking over, as the rest of you was wiped out.
“see your one of us now, bro”
“Yeah… noo what am I saying I’m not one of you”
“Yeah you are bro, you just need a bit of help” Nick and Jake went into a big duffle bag and both got out cans of Lynx body sprays. They point it at you and begin to spray. The smell is strong working its way in your head, creating a fog that consumes all nerdy thoughts, knowledge and memories until your Jock personality is all that remains.
“How bout now bro”
“oh yeah that’s good bro’s no more dweeb shit for me” you replied in a cocky tone
“Yeah, bro put these on then we got one more test for you” said Jake
Nick leaves the room and Jake gets out some stylish trousers, a jockstrap, a white T-shirt. You put them on and look in the mirror.
“Fuck I’m so sexy bro, I can’t tell who to fuck with this bod first, Maybe Becky, the brunette with the big boobs, she’s fit as fuck. Always wanted to fuck a cheerleader captain”
Jake turns you around and puts a cap on your head and spins it around.
“There now you truly are one of us bro. Becky is fit I agree fucked that her many times, but she’s as loyal most girls in this school, they’re all sluts and hoes, just for fucking. But if they end up not being your thing and you want something more, you can always have me bro” said Jake looking at you admirably. He gives a wink and you give a big smile in return, you honestly don’t know who to fuck with your new body. Thin sexy sluts or a Big dumb bro like yourself.
“Now bro for your last test” Nick returned holding some nerd by his neck and threw him on the floor
“Oh no I’m sorry I didn’t mean it honest” pleaded the nerd
“This Shithead just fucking ratted out on Jason and got his phone confiscated, let’s see how you deal justice to those below you”
You become angry, you don’t know Jason personally, but he was your bro now, you had to keep an eye out for your bro and avenge them if necessary. The nerd turns to look at you
“No… no Oh my god what did they do to you, your one of them now”
“Fucking dweeb ratting on my friend you will pay for that” you said angrily
You begin to punch and kick, him feeling great as you do it. Hearing him squirm as you beat him avenging Jason. Nick and Jake smile at you admirably realizing you were now a full Jock like them, going to football practice and games, partying, screwing either girls or guys. You thought about Mike, he was going to be over tonight to do nerd shit, maybe Mike would benefit from a night in here too.
Now this musclewhore has been empty for years… ever since he signed his contract with MTV that required regular “upkeep” shots, he hadn’t thought about much of anything at all except working out and displaying his body for the world to see. He hadn’t been that built before he got cast on Jersey Shore and started getting those injections but now everything was different. He wasn’t the same man he was before, now he really was the Situation. The more shots he got, the more he wanted to work out, the more he worked out, the hotter and sexier and hornier he felt… and the more he showed off his physical prowess, the more he got that, warm, orgasmic feeling swelling into his cock and satisfying that strange urge deep inside him to become someone else.
It was a deep cycle ingrained in the far reaches of his bloodstream, a constant urge to satisfy some strange psychological itch to constantly be an alpha musclewhore. Eventually, it was just like the more he gave in, the better he felt, just feeding all his intelligence and willpower into the blissful stupidity.
He would look into the mirror, drooling and smiling with a blank look in his eyes, and whisper “Fuck yah bruh… ur so hot man….” He flexed his “gunz” and popped his massive “muscle tits” – the strange words he had started using to describe his body – and started giggling, jacking off at his own image. Nothing turned him on more than the sight of his hot jock body, completely constructed to be nothing but a sexual instrument. His ass was plump for fucking, his pecs were titanic for grabbing, his arms heavy and bulbous to complete the image… he was a perfect, dumb sex toy.
Any day now, Mike will just give in and start showing off his cock online. Showing off on reality tv and magazine covers will get old… and when his stupid jock boy brain remembers people find his body attractive, especially all the fags and sluts, he couldn’t help craving exhibiting himself online. He imagined how hot it would be for people to get off on his body just like he did, and just as if it was second nature, he turned on his webcam and pulled his fat sausage cock from his gym shorts. “Huhuhuh,” he mumbled, “dis is gon be so hot,” smiling and jerking off forever, just as he should be.
Of Spies and Muscleheads Part 6
“They’re swarming the compound,
Hunter. More than half have been converted already.”“Why hasn’t anybody shot them,
damnit?” Hunter growled.“We’ve tried. Somebody rigged
munitions. It’s all blanks.”“How the hell can our entire armory
have been compromised?”“Very, very carefully,” Stone said.
“I’ll have to thank Arsenal later. He should be waking any moment now. He’s
such a good meathead.”Hunter groaned.
“Aww, what’s the matter, Agent
Hunter? Feeling a little heavy? Oh, but I bet it feels so good, doesn’t it?
It’s hard to resist all that growth, all that power. Why don’t you just … let
it go?”“F–Fuck you,” Hunter said through
gritted teeth. Then he shuddered as the bulge in crotch increased.“Ooh, you’re coming along nicely.
Just a matter of time now, Agent Hunter.”
Evolution of a trophy boy: You are noticed on the runway which leads to an introduction backstage to an older well dressed gentleman. Usually, you are a cocky guy with bravado, so it’s amusing how you are so easily mesmerized by the power and presence of a true alpha. Those eyes are stunning aren’t they? You give 100% attention to this older man and his eyes, which leads to an invitation back to the CEO’s penthouse. In the back of his Bentley you look in those eyes and answer his questions. You had plans to meet your model friends at the afterparty, but he wants you to be with him and you want what he wants. He says good boy to you, and are filled with joy and a new desire to submit. His eyes tell you to relax and go with it. Once in the penthouse, after sipping on some wine, you are told you want to show the older man your runway skills. He knows full well that as you walk towards him, you walk towards a life where you give in, totally. With each step you become more and more infatuated, and easily fall into his words and hypnotic gaze. Of course you want to kiss him. Of course you want to undress for him. Of course you want to show him what a slut you can be. Of course you want to ride him like a whore and keep your eyes on his. Submit and obey. Submit and obey.
With each passing day, you stare into the older man’s eyes and listen to your new directions: take time off from modeling and enjoy being the sexy boy to a billionaire, and go to him when he calls your name, whether at home in one of his residences, or out seeing your friends.
Soon he suggests you replace time with friends with much more time at the gym. You now really want a more defined body built for sex and being superior arm candy. Yes, a hotter sexy body and a calendar set by your daddy are your main goals from now on.
You soon need new clothes for your now cut up body and you love that your entire attire says you are owned by an elite man of immense power. You give in totally as he controls you mind body and soul. You need this man and always seek his gaze. Your can’t help but seek out those powerful eyes, listen to his words and swallow each load. They are all so addictive. With one word, look or gesture he can get inside your head and you love it. You love anything he suggests. You are a slave, royalty and if he desires you to be (and he does) an excellent future boiwife.
Of Spies and Muscleheads Part 3
It’s been a long day, very exhausting as I drove to my sister’s college to move her out of her dorm and then drove back and unloaded. We had a little help, but it was still a full day where I didn’t get home till very late. So sorry for my post coming so late. Anyways, here’s part 3, and I hope you all enjoy it. Oh, and in this part, we get to welcome back an old friend. I know you all have missed him. *Insert wink followed by evil grin here*
“Come on, wake up, damn you!”
Suspended.
Floating. Was he still dreaming? What … what was that? He just blacked out and
then … then …“Hunter,
you son of a bitch, I swear if you don’t respond soon, I’ll put you through
hell when you get back; I swear to god.”Control …
that was Control. He … he was back. How long was he out? The stuff in the
pipes. Must have been some form of sedative. But … he was still safe. Still on
the other side. Alive. No one had come for him. At least not yet. He might
still be able to manage this mission after all. “Control?” Hunter asked as he
slowly shook his head to clear it. The dream was all a blur. Doesn’t matter
anyways. Not important.A sigh of
relief. “Thank god, Hunter. Your brain activity dropped for a while there.”“How long
was I out?” Hunter adjusted his package absently as he took in his
surroundings. He really needed to talk with ops about getting some tailored dive
suits. This one could barely hold his massive meat. He allowed himself a
mischievous smirk as he remembered a few of his more enjoyable conquests. Mmm,
that brunette was a fine woman. He shook his head again. Stop that. Focus on
the mission. Take in surroundings. Clear water, check. Underground lighting,
check. Clear pipe, check. Upward slope, check. Big steel door behind him,
check.“About five
minutes. Hunter, you damned idiot, do you have any idea how much trouble you’re
in?”“For
guessing the proper combination and saving myself? If I hadn’t guessed that
code, do you seriously think I would’ve been able to swim out of here in time
before I went under, Control? Come on. The whole pipe was probably flooded with
the stuff, whatever it was.”“Hunter,
your orders are clear. Abandon the mission. The enemy knows you’re coming. We
can try again another time.”Hunter
rolled his eyes, then smirked. “Never going to let you live this one down,
Control. For once it’s not my fault.”“Just get
out of there, lover boy. And do try to keep it in your pants. I can see your
vitals. Your heart rate’s up and your dopamine levels are starting to
increase.”“You know
you’re just jealous,” Hunter jabbed back as he swam towards the vault door of a
hatch. A red light flashed from the screen. “Any chances of an override,
Control?”“Just slide
the ID across the door, meathead.”Hunter
shuddered. His bulge grew more insistent. He needed to let off some steam when
he was done with this mission. Maybe a nice vacation somewhere in the Bahamas.
Yeah, that’d be good. Take on a few ladies, then work on bulking up for his
next mission. If he only barely beat Thirteen, then he’d need to be better
prepared for any others like that hulk. He took out the card, and swiped it
over the reader.“Access
denied,” the computer chirpedHe tried
again.“Access
denied.”“Control, a
little help here?”“What did
you do?”“Nothing,”
Hunter growled in Meathead’s voice. “I did just what you told me to. Now get me
out of here. And shut off this damn synthesizer!” he barked angrily.“Alright,
alright. Sheesh. Don’t get your wetsuit in a knot.” The sound of rapidly typing
keys played across the comms unit for a good minute or so.“By the
way, Control, how did you get my comms back on? You don’t have some sort of
emergency override switch on your end, do you?”“You’re
talking to one of the best hackers in the business, Hunter, remember? Now stow
it. I have work to do.”“Yes, sir.
I obey,” Hunter said in an exaggerated monotone, only for another shudder to
rock his body. This time he felt more than just a mild discomfort in the tight-fitting
suit. He grunted. “Come on, Control.”“When I’m
good and ready, Hunter. Try to distract yourself of something. Calm down a
little.”Hunter shifted position in the
water, trying to keep himself occupied. He absently checked his oxygen supply.
Still three quarters of a tank. He’d be fine. He breathed deeply, controlling
his intake as he struggled to calm his body down. A good five minutes passed.
Unfortunately, the erection hadn’t.“… Do you
want the good news or the bad news?” Control asked.“Hit me.”
“I can’t
override the door. According to the coding, any employee that checks in needs
to go to a second checkpoint and swipe the card there before he can leave
through the pipe again. If I worked at it a while, I might be able to open it,
but that would set off even an amateur’s radar. As it is, you’ll have to follow
standard protocol for Stone’s employees.“Which is?”
“How the
hell should I know? Nobody we’ve sent to infiltrate reported back in, and you,
of all people, know how difficult Thirteen is to interrogate.”“As it is,
he knows we’re coming. He’s not stupid. I’ve handled worse.”“Just be
careful, all right?”“All right,
all right. I will. And Control, you might want to keep my voice changer on for
now. Don’t know when I might run into some guards or something I’ll need to
fool, so I might as well keep it going.”The
computer chimed from its pad. “Meathead will report to the gym for immediate
workout and debriefing. Acknowledge.”“Hunter, I–”
“Meathead
will report to gym. Meathead will obey. I obey.” Hunter shuddered as he said
the words. He felt strangely lightheaded. The red screen cleared to yellow, and
he turned around to swim up the pipeline.“Hunter …”
“Relax,
Control. I’m fine. I just need to–” he grunted “–get out of this suit. Besides,
the computer mentioned debriefing. I’m guessing that means Thirteen’s master is
going to make an appearance after he reports in. It’s the perfect place to kill
Stone. I’ll stick to my mission first, drop in on the meeting, then pop on down
to the gym for a little work out and kill him while I’m there.” Flashing lights
guided the way up, shining in a multitude of colors as they strobed in their
lines. Hunter swam up and above until he finally broke the surface, pulling his
oxygen mask off and closing off the tank. He’d need it for his getaway. The
room was surprisingly well lit as he made his way to the stairs, and he smiled
as he passed the various screens the lined the walls.“Welcome
home, Meathead.”“Report,
meathead.”“The gym is
waiting.”“Report to
the gym, Meathead.”“Obey,
Meathead.”A strangely
annoying buzzing accompanied the messages as he passed, but he had no time to
focus on that. His erection was killing him. Hunter quickly raced past the
screens and into what appeared to be a massive changing room. An empty stall
clearly indicated where he was meant to hang his suit, and seeing as his suit
was so much smaller than the others, there was no need to worry about losing
it. Spare tanks lined the walls, promising plenty of oxygen should he need a
replacement. They were thicker and bulkier, most likely holding more air in
higher concentrations. If Meathead was anything to go by, not to mention the
sheer size of these other wet suits, Stone must have hundreds of these
behemoths on staff. Where did he find them? What did he use to make them so
large? Steroids? So many questions. With a heavy sigh of relief, Hunter stripped
out of the wetsuit, releasing his body and the culprit of his misery in one go.
Now he felt only pleasure. Pleasure, relief, the buzzing, and a nagging
computer ordering him to report in, yet again. Of course, knowing Thirteen, it
wasn’t that hard to understand. The big lug probably needed repeated
instructions to get it through his thick, meaty skull.“Understood.
Will report. Meathead obeys. I obey,” he murmured, standing there in his shorts
as the cool air washed over his hot body. He sighed heavily. That deep voice
didn’t sound so bad anymore. As a matter of fact, he kind of liked it.“Hunter,
you’re past the monitors. I think you can drop the act now. Calm down. Your
dopamine levels are running through the roof. … Actually, so’s your testosterone.
No wonder you feel so horny. Either way, you need to find a way to stop it and
focus on the mission.”Hunter
shuddered again. “Sorry, Control. I, uh, think it might be a side effect from
the chemical, or whatever it was the pipe got flushed with.” He hastily
returned to the pipe, where his waterproof satchel sat waiting. He pulled it
out midst the flashing bulbs and passed the screens yet again in his tight
compression shorts. He firmly clamped his mouth shut, refusing to look at the
screens as he raced past. He couldn’t afford to let himself be distracted.
After all, he had to report. That is, spy, then kill, then report. He smirked.
“Getting a little ahead of yourself there, big guy,” he murmured as he
chuckled, shifting into his stealth suit. Fortunately, it wasn’t quite so tight
as the wet suit, and he was able to change without much difficulty. As a last
addition, he placed a form-fitted set of display goggles over his eyes, before
making his way through the tunnel and up into the castle proper.The halls
were a bit on the chilly side, but Hunter was able to adapt quickly enough.
Slinking by along the walls, he heard the distinct sound of hissing over loud
speakers. Following the trail of wires, he eventually found the source.
Interspersed a good ten feet or so apart, a series of loud speakers trailed. He
heard deep voices and the sound of insipid laughter, and pulled against the
side of the wall. His stealth suit flickered briefly, before his body blended
perfectly with the stone work.“Yes, sir.
Report to main hall.”“Must
report.”“Must
obey.”The sound
of tromping feet echoed and redoubled, vibrating Hunter’s soles as twenty nigh-identical
muscle men almost as big as Thirteen marched past in an orderly manner. They
wore Tight black spandex outfits and matching helmets with bright green visors
on their heads. A pulsing green light from the visors indicated potential
cerebral programming as the men tromped along in dual file. Hunter pressed
himself as hard as he possibly could against the wall. He barely managed to
avoid being touched as the men filed on. “I’m in luck, Control,” Hunter
whispered after they were gone. “They’ll lead me right to the main hall. I’m
guessing they’re going to be part of some kind of display. Can you get me a
route into the upper balcony?”“Easy as
pie.”“Good. Lead
on, good sir, that I may sally forth, and complete my quest.”“Shut up,
Hunter, and just take the next left.” What followed was a series of directions guided
by a projected layout on the display screen that was Hunter’s goggles. Eventually,
the spy was led to a set of stairs, which in turn took him to a shadowy and
dusty balustrade. He proceeded to duck behind it as he observed the proceedings
of the meeting below.A series of large display units
hung above the long table where each of the twenty men and their escorts had
been seated. At the head of the table, a great hulk of a man sat. His hair was
a bright platinum blonde, his eyes a stormy grey. He must have been at least a
good eight feet tall, maybe even nine. The mountain of muscle flexed calmly,
his arms rippling as he cut at the steak that had been prepared. His business
suit clung tightly to his body, but not so much as to overstrain it. Clearly he
had a tailor.“Now, I know you gentlemen view
America as an affront to your beliefs. I admit, I have no great love for this
nation myself. The financial system is flawed, men and women are left starving
on the streets to fend for themselves for lack of an education they can’t
afford, or worse yet, a corrupt business field where they’ve been
systematically cut out of the picture.” He chewed his meat viciously for a
time, gauging the men before him, before patting his lips with a napkin and
continuing his speech. “I have been wronged by this system, gentlemen, but that
didn’t stop me from trying to better my situation.” He chuckled. “As you can
see, I succeeded. … I am one of the few.“Much like me, you, and those who
follow your causes, feel that you have also been wronged. Whether your sacred
lands are being trampled and torn underfoot, or you have lost your homes to
corrupt businessmen, or simply because you feel that your religious rights have
been taken away from you and you must take arms to defend that right. Whatever
the reason may be, in that sense at least, we are brothers. In that sense, at
least, we have a common ground. Much like you, I want to change the world, to
make it a better place. That is why I sent my men to contact you, and that is
why you are here tonight. I have called you here so that, together, we can make
the world a better place for all.”“And just how do you propose,
Mister Stone, to further our … common interests?” Muffati, a short and portly
man with a heavy robe and a bright white turban said. His beard had grown long,
and was well trimmed with the salt and pepper coloration that was typical of
his racial background at that age. His accent was thick, but his English was
well pronounced. The other men nodded in agreement, even as they finished their
respective meals.“As I said, I can offer you a
weapon that no man could possibly expect.”“And that is?” Muffati asked,
raising a bushy eyebrow.“The perfect soldiers, of course.”
What followed was fairly
predictable. The laughter carried for quite some time, though a few of the men simply
settled with glowering. “You have us come to this abominable country for a
fable, Mister Stone? We do not take kindly to such jests.”“And I do not take kindly to idle
threats,” Stone responded in an equally flat tone. The silverware on the table
began to clatter. Soon the goblets were jumping, the liquid rippling from
unseen vibrations. The screens flashed into life as a military anthem began to
play. From every doorway, they poured in. Tall, muscled, masculine, and armed
to the teeth, the towers of muscle marched in unison, eyes fixed ahead as they
formed ranks around the table and the hall. Their helmets still remained firmly
fastened to their block-like skulls.As the anthem played, Hunter felt a
distinct sense of dejavous. He’d heard this music somewhere before, but he
couldn’t quite place it. It seemed to play over and over in his head, even as
the song finished and the men cocked their guns at the guests.“As I was saying, gentlemen, I’ve
developed the perfect soldiers. Large, fast, powerful, experts in multiple
forms of combat, skilled marksmen, lightning reflexes, superhuman endurance,
and best of all, they are completely obedient. Isn’t that right, boys?”A resounding, “Yes, sir, coach!”
echoed through the hall. The men saluted, lowering the butts of their guns.“You would lend out mercenaries?
This is your, as you Americans say, sales pitch?”“No. What I offer is the ability to
make soldiers of your own, just as obedient, just as powerful, just as well
trained, all under your command.”“I do not believe it,” a skeptical
leader said. His frame was lean and well-muscled beneath his robes, and the
guard who stood behind him was taller still, and lither.“If you doubt their skills, then
why not pit your own guards against them?”“It is a hoax. These few could
easily have been trained in advance. Where is your proof?”“My process, as I like to call it,
takes place over various stages, each a vital part in the conversion to become
what you see before you now.” He lifted a remote to the screens and they
shifted to reveal a CGI of an average human male. “I admit, I prefer this
method because it ensures a closer connection between me and my men, or
meatheads, as they like to call themselves. However, I have also developed a
more streamlined method of application for you men to make use of back in your
various war fronts.”Stone held up a vial while the
screen portrayed the same. “A few drops of this incorporated into a man’s body
by any means leads to a dramatic increase in testosterone production, human
growth hormone production, and a variety of other natural chemicals in the body
related to masculinity and growth, along with great pleasure and arousal.” The
model on the screens was injected with a syringe, and the man began to
experience a growth in muscle mass, along with a large tent pressing against
his shorts. “Given enough time to work, this substance incorporates itself into
the human body’s natural functions, reprogramming the brain to produce the
chemical naturally, and send it coursing through the entire body’s circulatory
system twenty-four seven.” The image paled to reveal the circulatory system and
the brain. As the body continued to change and work, it revealed the brain
slowly changing color and that color spreading through the veins as the image
continued to grow in breadth, height, and muscle mass, among other things.“The end result is what you see
before you: perfectly built soldiers. As for their training, admittedly, that
requires some small amount of effort, though we’ve streamlined the process
significantly. Making use of the pleasure centers of the brain, we take
advantage of the surges of hormones to rewrite their minds, inserting a desire
for unquestioning obedience to an authority figure.” An image of another man
entered and began giving instructions to the other. “The more they obey, the
greater the pleasure they experience, and the faster they are able to reach
their final stages.” Each task the image that received the injection completed
resulted in a surge of growth. “During this time of rapid intake and obedience,
we expose them to a variety of stimuli that will train their bodies in the
various arts they need to know, and have them exercise it in practice shortly
after to make sure their bodies have transferred it into all forms of memory, including
subconscious, conscious, and muscle.” The screens shut off. “Any questions?”“How is this training
accomplished?”“So glad you asked that.” Stone
pressed another button on the remote and a wall pulled up to reveal six men
standing side by side in perfect formation. Their square jaws rippled with
muscle in their necks, and their giant chests barely were contained by the
button up shirts they wore. They stared vapidly ahead, their legs spread in a
parade rest. Their burly arms were held behind their backs. Their broad
shoulders gave them a square-cut appearance, and their stance was so identical
they seemed almost like a paper chain.“Meet Grunt, Crush, Thrasher,
Masher, Pounder, and Grinder. Before these men saw the light and joined my
soldiers’ ranks, they were sent here to infiltrate and spy on my organization. It
took many of my meatheads to successfully capture them, but once I had them in
hand, we immediately began putting them through the process. Once they had
officially converted to muscle, I had every piece of information copied and
downloaded from their brains through a unique neural probe one of my think
tanks came up with. Completely harmless, and minimally invasive. A nice touch
when you want to keep your subjects alive, wouldn’t you say? Taking the base
neurological makeup of each subject’s brain, we combined them to create an
ultimate design for our subjects’ brains to reach in their training. We then
expose them to the proper stimuli throughout the process to ensure their brains
develop the necessary pathways, and thus, the skills for the job. Our six
professionals then spar with each soldier to ensure the subject has learned
properly. Boys, come here.”The six men immediately marched in
unison, and took their places, three on either side.“What are you?” Stone shouted.
The resounding cry was deafening.
“Meatheads!”Who do you all serve?”
“Coach!”
Who do you obey?”
“Coach!”
“Who do you fight for?”
“Coach!”
“Who do you live for?”
“Coach!”
Not a soul moved. The room was
silent. Stone looked around the room. This time, his voice was softer, calmer,
but filled with more intensity than any of the questions he had asked before. His
eyes had turned cold, his pupils hard as agates. “And who is your coach?”“Stone.” It started out small, a
single voice, barely a whisper. “Stone.” It came again. This time two spoke. It
continued to build one at a time, increasing in intensity, speed, and fervor
until they reached fever pitch. The screens blazed to life as images and words
flickered across in a virtual blur that verged on pure white. The green visors
sprung to life, flickering on the drones that wore them. “Obey Stone. Serve
Stone. Coach is Stone.” And so it continued, until the chanting fell into a mindless
cheer. One name. One focus. The guards who had come with the terrorists
clutched at their heads, and groaned in pain. In a matter of seconds, they had
grown as large as the men who now surrounded the hall.“Oh yeah, one thing I forgot to
mention. The closer proximity to others who have been dosed with the compound
hastens the process.” The new thick, burly men rose to their feet and placed
their meaty hands over their former masters’ shoulders, securing them in place.
“They have almost a hive sort of mentality sometimes, so a little affirmation
here, a little obedience there, and then they’re just like the rest.”Stone snapped his fingers, and more
of the meatheads came from the doors, each holding a helmet similar to the ones
the soldiers wore. “So here’s how it’s going to go. You’re going to turn all of
your funds over to me. You’ll liquidate your assets and resources, and leave
your stupid struggle in the Middle East. Don’t worry, it won’t happen all at
once. After all, I have to make sure that you and your men all become part of
my little experiment, and we need to make it look like the troops you’re
fighting against are winning. You’re only too happy to help, aren’t you, boys?”The new giants shuddered, and
grinned as they grabbed the proffered helmets in their hands. Then they shoved
them on the various leaders. In a matter of minutes, their former masters had slumped
in their chairs, while their helmets flashed. Stone had completely neutralized
the threat, and now had every well-known terrorist in thrall. Up by the
balustrade, Hunter gaped.“Control, are you getting this?” he
whispered.“We’re getting it, Hunter. And …
I’m sorry.”“Don’t tell me. Those men–”
“–Interceptor, Recon, Camo,
Berserker, Napoleon, and Narcissus. We confirmed via retinal identification. If
Stone’s telling the truth–”“–Then he already knows about us
and all of our operations regarding him and his men. All the more reason to
kill the son of a bitch.”“They were some of our best,
Hunter. If he’s really trained every one of his men to be just as skilled,
you’re up against some long odds. So am I for that matter. I thought the hack was too easy. He’s
trying to play us.”Hunter Smirked. “Then let’s play
him. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”“Gentlemen, I’ll leave our new
recruits in your capable hands. I have some business to attend to at the gym.
Keep running the program for the next six hours at least. I want these men well
oriented by the time I’m finished,” Stone said.The men saluted. “Yes, sir.” A low
murmur of agreement ran through the room as the other soldiers stared ahead.
Their own helmets were flickering, indicating that they, too, were experiencing
this orientation, even as these new men were. Content, Stone left the same way
he had come, flanked by his guard of six. The rest of the men stood obediently
as they watched the presentation. Hunter was careful to avert his eyes as he
backed away from his hiding spot.“Control, I need directions to that
gym, and I need them now.”“Already
uploading. Get your ass out of there, Hunter. You’ve got a job to do.”
Of Spies and Muscleheads Part 2
Hunter could hear Subject Thirteen
laughing, chuckling deeply. Such a low, empty voice. It guided him in the
darkness. Hunter opened his eyes, and then, there Thirteen was. Hunter wasn’t
in the pipe anymore. The castle was gone. Now he stood in Thirteen’s cell. The
mammoth of a man was busy lifting iron, clanking weights up and down on the
bench that had been provided beneath a single spotlight. He just smiled as he
lifted, pumping for all he was worth and grunting all the while. He finished
his set and sat up, staring with those vacant, murky brown eyes.“A Meathead’s a meathead, head full
of meat. Meathead must grow. Meathead competes. Meathead obeys. Meathead don’t
think.” He chuckled again. “Meathead’s a meathead, bro. I know meatheads. I
know you.” He laughed.“You don’t know me,” Hunter
growled.“Know a meathead when I see one.”
He laughed again. “Just gotta remember.”“There’s nothing to remember,
Thirteen. This is a dream, a hallucination, nothing more.”Subject Thirteen shrugged. “If this
is a dream, I don’t wanna wake up.” He flexed a bicep. “I don’t think you want
to, either.” He smirked.“I have a mission to accomplish.”
Hunter reached for his watch controls, only to find himself bereft. He was
naked, save for a pair of black compression shorts that hugged tightly to his
frame. He tried reaching where his watch would be, and pressed the location of
the emergency button to stimulate electronic shock. It didn’t work. There must
have been a sedative in the water. He had to be dreaming. There’s no way a
rescue team would have been sent to recover his body. If anything, he would
have been captured, and placed in a holding cell. Either way, if he was stuck
in this dreamscape, better to play along. At least for now. “What did you do
with my things?”“What things, Lil’bro?”
“Stop calling me that. I’m not your
‘bro.’ I’m not like you. I’m going to kill your boss.”“Boss? Uh … didn’t know I had one.”
Thirteen scratched his head with a meaty hand, the veins on his arms pulsing as
the muscles twitched, accenting every curve, every bend, all the way down his
arm to the thick slab of meat that was his pec. “Got a coach, but dunno why
you’d wanna kill him. Meatheads love coach. Meatheads obey coach. Coach makes
us big. Coach makes us swole.” He smiled, stood, and punctuated each sentence
with a new pose. Then he stood up straight again, his frame towering over
Hunter. “’Sides, you sound like Meathead already, bro.” He chuckled. “Just need
the bod to match.”“That’s my voice changer. This
isn’t my real voice.”“You sure?” He laughed again.
“Don’t see none on ya.”“This is a hallucination, nothing
more. I’m going to wake myself up, and you’ll be back in your cell, while I’m
working on killing your CRUNCHES.” Hunter coughed and
cleared his throat. “What the hell?” His voice … it … cracked. That didn’t
sound like Thirteen, but it didn’t sound like him either. And why did he say
that word, instead of coach? Never mind. Try again. “Like I said, I’m going to CURL
FOR COACH.”Thirteen’s smirk turned into a
sneer. “Sorry, what’d ya say?”“Whatever you’re doing, stop it,”
Hunter demanded, pointing a finger at the muscle man as Thirteen proceeded to
pull out a dumbbell and perform some curls.“Me? I ain’t doin’ nothin’. I told
ya. I know meatheads when I see ‘em. You just covered it up, blacked it out.
That ain’t right. You took my voice. My voice woke yours.” He pointed down at
the compression shorts. “Now all that black’s comin’ out. N’so’s the real you.”
He grunted as he began another set. Hunter’s compression shorts had begun to
turn white around the knees.“This isn’t happening. It’s not
real.” Hunter shuddered where he stood as little veins began to push out of his
legs. “Need to WORK OUT. No! Get out, not WORK OUT.” Hunter’s hands clutched
at his throat, only they didn’t feel right. Looking down, he watched them
tremble and shake as the little veins popped up there, too. Soon they cracked,
swelling a quarter their previous size. Big hands. Strong hands. Like Thirteen.
They clenched open and shut against his will. The veins continued to spread up
his forearms, and they grew more defined, expanding as the muscle tensed,
relaxed, and grew. All the while, the black on his shorts’ legs continued to
pull up and away, revealing the blank white beneath.“Gotta lift, bro.” Thirteen chuckled
as he put down his own dumbbell, went to a nearby weight rack, returned, and proffered
a new set of hundred pound dumbbells.“Somebody help ME GET SWOLE!” Hunter
gasped as his chest and shoulders expanded, the trapezius muscles bulging and
thickening, causing the muscles and sinew in his neck to swell as well. Down
below, he could feel something stirring as a tingling sensation took hold in
his legs and crotch.“See, bro? You’ll fit right in.”
“This is my house, MEATHEAD,
not yours.”Meathead boomed with laughter.
“Bro, course it’s not yours. It’s coach’s. Come on. Lift with me, bro.” He
extended his arms, offering the weights yet again.“I’m not your BRO. Get that through
your MEATHEAD.
Damnit! How do I BULK UP?”“S’easy, bro. You know how it’s done.
Curl. One. Curl. Two. Muscles grow. Bring out the real you.”“No. Stop! What’re you doing?” Much
to his horror, Hunter watched as his arms took hold of the dumbbells, and began
to follow the rhythm of Meathead’s chanting. His body shifted, so his legs were
shoulder-width apart as he worked to curl. A fit of dizziness overwhelmed him
as he watched a new spotlight flicker on over a gigantic reflective mirror. The
two-way. But why was it floor length? Another spotlight shone on him, and he
watched as the black began to bleed slowly away from his waistband as well. The
tingling in his crotch grew more intense. “Can anyone hear me? Control, get me
out of here. Control! Anyone! BRO ME! SHIT! Somebody HELP
ME GET SWOLE! Wait, that’s PERFECT. MEATHEAD, WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?”“What’s–”
“–UP, BRO?”
Meathead just laughed. “Bro,
welcome home.” The room was suddenly flooded with lights as exercise machine after
exercise machine appeared, each with an almost identical man working on them.
As big as Thirteen, as focused as Thirteen, as vapid as Thirteen. They were all
consumed with their workouts, earbuds plugged, screens flickering, watching rigidly,
working to a synchronized rhythm. No wonder the clanking was so loud before. It
wasn’t just Meathead working at a set of weights, it was a legion of meatheads
perfectly synchronized. Smaller men twitched under helmets as IVs pumped
something into their blood, and they grew, feet bursting from socks, torsos
tearing shirts. One of the helmets raised to reveal yet another hulk, an almost
exact duplicate of Thirteen. Hunter watched as another smaller person with
glazed brown eyes was shoved into an empty chair. His long, shaggy black hair
hung to his shoulders in a style reminiscent of some Japanese haircuts. A
series of flashing buttons and lights flickered across multiple panels as he
was strapped in. He looked so familiar. As the huge dome descended, the letters
CONTROLLER.EXE stood out in bold red
print. He watched the man twitch and shudder as his clothes began to tear. Then
it hit. Jason. That man was Jason. With that sudden realization, Hunter’s head jerked
violently back to Thirteen and the mirror against his will.“GOOD TO BE BACK. No! I’m
not leaving HERE. Damnit! I’m not BIG ENOUGH, BRO. Gotta GET
SWOLE.” Hunter stared, horrified as his face grew more square, his jaw
jutted out, and his hair shifted into a perfect flat top, identical with MEATHEAD. Wait, no, Thirteen. MEATHEAD. No, … MEATHEAD, but that’s not … HIS
NAME IS MEATHEAD, BRO. Hunter watched as his biceps blew up like balloons, while
the room seemed to spin around him. The black on his compression shorts continued
to dissipate, slowly being drawn from the back and sides to the front as it flowed
towards his crotch. The more it did, the more he felt his privates press slowly
outwards as his body expanded. “BIGGER BALLS, BIGGER DICK. MEATHEADS DON’T THINK
‘CAUSE OUR HEADS’RE TOO THICK.” Those words … they came out of his
mouth! But he didn’t want to. What the hell?“S’right, bro. You’re a meathead
now. Just like me.” Thirteen chuckled with his low, empty voice, and pointed at
Hunter. A familiar voice came out over the loud speakers in the PA system.“Larger penis, larger testicles.”
Thirteen grinned as he struck a
pose, and stared. As one, the room resounded. “BIGGER BALLS, BIGGER DICK.”“BIGGER BALLS, BIGGER DICK,”
Hunter’s new voice said with them. “No! I’m H–UGE MEATHEAD.” Hunter’s
brow furrowed and pressed further out as his eyebrows grew bushier, and his
body hair thickened.“C’mon, meathead. Let’s pump that
other guy outt’a your head.”“COOL, BRO.”
“No, not cool. Not cool at all. And … wait, why can’t I talk?”
“CAUSE I’M A MEATHEAD, BRO, NOT
HUNTER.”“S’right, meathead. C’mon. Machine’s
waitin’,” MEATHEAD said.“You’re not getting away with this.”
“AWAY WITH WHAT? YOU’RE THE ONE
WHO DON’T BELONG.”“This is my FUCKING body!”
“YUP. MY FUCKING BODY. SWOLE IS
GOOD. JUST GO WITH IT, BRO. DON’T FIGHT. WE’RE THE SAME.”“How are you doing this?”
“BRO. I AIN’T DOIN’ NUTHIN’. S’ALL
YOU. I’M A MEATHEAD. YOU’RE A MEATHEAD. WE’RE ALL MEATHEADS.”“We’re all Meatheads,” Meathead
repeated. Soon the whole gym was saying it, echoing, repeating, beating it into
Hunter’s head with every clank of the weights as they returned to their
starting positions. A wave of pleasure washed over Hunter’s body. The black
from his compression shorts had been reduced to a concentrated circle over his
manhood spanning from one end of his waist to the other. He watched said
manhood bulge further as the black circle shrunk. He saw and felt his still-expanding
body flex one more time in front of an identical mirror to the one from before
in time to the rhythm of the sets.“We’re all meatheads.”
Clank.
“Big, dumb meatheads.”
Flex.
“Growing our meat.”
Clank.
“We follow the beat.”
Pose.
“The deeper we go,”
Clank.
“The bigger we grow.”
Flex.
“The more we obey,”
Clank.
“Grow dumber each day.”
Pose.
“Obey Coach’s voice.”
Clank.
“Don’t have any choice.”
Flex.
They dropped their weights as one, having
finished their set, and stared ahead at their screens as they flashed and
flickered. “Obey coach. I obey. We obey. Meatheads obey. We are meatheads. We
obey. I am a meathead. I obey. I am a big, dumb meathead.”Thirteen flexed, his eyes vacant as
he posed next to Hunter, and stared into the mirror. Hunter followed his
actions perfectly. “I AM A BIG, DUMB MEATHEAD,” the pair said together.“Time to work out, bro,” Thirteen
said, motioning to an empty weight machine. “Cycle starts again soon.”Hunter felt his body shudder, then
it patted his junk, shuddered again, this time in pleasure, and sat down where
Thirteen had offered. Against his will, his arms reached out to grab a pair of
earbuds from their position next to the monitor.“GOTTA GET SWOLE, BRO.”
“I AIN’T going down without a
FIGHT,” Hunter thought
rebelliously, frustrated that the warbling had even followed him into the one
free space he had left, his thoughts.“BRO, I ALREADY TOLD YOU. YOU’RE
ME, AND I’M YOU. YOU JUST LOCKED ME UP, BRO. NOT COOL. BUT I FORGIVE YOU.” Hunter
heard the new voice laugh with his body. He wanted to scream. He couldn’t even
grind his teeth as the buds were inserted into his ears.“I am not a FUCKING PUSSY.
I’m a special MEATHEAD chosen to infiltrate and CONVERT TO MUSCLE. No!” The voice continued to interfere. His
body prepped itself. On the edges of his vision he could just make out the
others staring blankly at their screens, breathing heavily as they tensed their
arms. He could hear static filtering in through his buds, and assumed the
others were hearing the same. Then came the music. His head began to bob. His
eyes locked on the screen against his will. His arms reached up, and began to
pull down on the cross bar, working his trapezius muscles as he pulled against
the weight. A series of 1s and 0s cascaded across the screen for a time, mixed
with the occasional flash of words and images too fast to keep track of. Hunter’s
body breathed in time to the pump. In. Out. Up. Down. One. Zero. Zero.One.
Breathe.
Lift.Two.
Feeling
good.And he was feeling good.
Three.
Falling.
Listen.Hunter could feel his mouth pulling
up into a smile.“BRO,” he heard his body
sigh, “LIKE, WHY’RE YOU RESISTING? LIFTING MAKES US FEEL SO GOOD. DON’T YOU REMEMBER?”“I remember TRAINING so I can
kill. I don’t LIFT just for fun, BRO. Damnit!” Hunter swore in his
mind. That … invasive voice was still interfering. He had to figure out a way
to break its hold, take control of this dream.Four.
Inhaling.
Slowing down. Relaxing. Lifting is relaxing.Hunter could feel his body slumping
as he watched the screen. He could feel Th–MEATHEAD behind him. Why couldn’t he
call him his subject number anymore? What … was his subject number again?Five.
Breathing out. A hand on his
shoulder. “Just have to remember,
Lil’bro,” MEATHEAD said. Remember. Remember what?“Stop FUCKING messing around with
me!” Hunter screamed in his head. But … his mind … sounded strange.
Felt … wrong. His body’s smile turned to a smirk.“THAT’S IT, BRO. FEEL THAT ANGER.
FEEL THAT RAGE. FEEL THE BURN! FEEL THE PUMP! FUCKING PRIMAL!”Primal. So good. Roaring. Pushing
past goals. Getting fit for service. Was that what he was supposed to remember?
That feeling? That rush?Six.
Listen.
Watch the screen. Obey.Not like he had much choice.
You
have no choice but to obey.No choice. Listen. No choice. Watch
the screen. No choice. Obey. No choice. No … choice …“Wha–? What’s happening TO ME,
BRO?” Bro? But … he didn’t … think like that. … Did he?“No choice but to listen, Lil’bro. No
choice but to obey. Listen to us, Lil’bro. Talk like us. Think like us. It’s
easier,” MEATHEAD said.Listen
to Meathead. Talk like Meathead. Obey Meathead. You are a meathead.Lil’bro. Easier. Listen. No choice.
Obey. Obey …“But … but I don’t … WANT TO LIFT.
WANT
TO LIFT. Don’t …”Seven.
Obey.
Think like Meathead. Just like Meathead. Think like a meathead. Because you are
a meathead.Meathead loves to lift. Hunter
loves to lift. Feels so good to lift.Lifting
is life.Lifting is life. His life was
always lifting when he wasn’t on a mission. Yeah.Growing
is gold.Growing is gold. He loved to see
himself grow in the mirror. Getting closer to his goal. Toning up for the next
phase in training.Training
means listening. Training means obeying. Listen. Obey. No choice. Bigger Balls. Bigger Dick. Massive Meat.
Smaller brain.Massive meat. Bulging balls. Big
brute. He could feel them. Heavy. Bulging. Swelling manhood. Tight. Close. Pleasure.
Grinning. He’s … grinning. So hard to … think … head feels … funny.Remember.
Obey. Remember to obey. Think like a
meathead, because you are a meathead. Meatheads are dumb. You are dumb. Dumb.
Muscle. All muscle. All weights. No thought but working out and getting bigger.
Bigger and more obedient. Remember. Remember to obey. Obey.Yes. Remember. Remember this
feeling. Remember pleasure. Obey and REMEMBER. REMEMBER to OBEY. OBEY. Think of
meat. Meat is on the brain. Brain is in the head. Meat is in the head. Thinking
of meat. Think like them. Think like a MEATHEAD, MEATHEAD.“Watch, Lil’bro. Lift. Listen.
Remember. Remember,” MEATHEAD said.“REMEMBER.” Wait … did he
just talk? Did he? Does it … matter?“You’re a big fucking meathead,
Lil’bro.”“YEAH, WE’RE A BIG FUCKING
MEATHEAD, BRO.” Lips moving. Not him again. But … maybe it is?“Don’t … wanna be … want … wanna …
WANNA be … WANNA BE … DON’T …”“DON’T STOP,” his lips say,
changing his sentence. Changing his thought. His mouth says. Not him. Or is it?
Don’t stop. OBEY. No choice. OBEY.Don’t
resist. Listen to Meathead. Obey Meathead. Be like Meathead. Talk like
Meathead. Think like Meathead. You want to be just like Meathead. You want to
be a meathead. You are a meathead. Just a big, dumb meathead. So dumb. Brain
clouding as you listen, becoming dumber. More obedient. Bigger muscles. Smaller
brain. All meat. All meathead.Listen to Meathead. Obey Meathead.
Be like Meathead. Talk like Meathead. Think like Meathead. Just like Meathead.
Want to … want to … “WANNA BE A BIG FUCKING MEATHEAD.”
Sighing. His sigh. His words. He … said it. But … did he? Wasn’t that … the
other him? Does he want it? Hunter didn’t know any more. Everything felt so
strange. So bulky.Pump.
Bulky
is good.Clank.
Bulky is good. But … is it? Watch.
Listen. Watch. OBEY. Massive meat. Smaller brain. Smaller … uh … what is …?
Hard to … to think. So hard … so … hard … hard … meat … big ……
…
“M-My name … my name is … is …”
Resist. Fight. Have to remember. Don’t let them take that.EIGHT.
“Hunter … I … I am Hunter. I am …
Hun … Uh … I am … I am …” Hard to think. Can’t remember. So damn foggy.Strain. It’s heavier. More
difficult.Don’t
remember. Forget your name, meathead.
Fall into place. Listen. Obey.Clank.
Don’t remember. Do not. No choice. OBEY.
MEATHEAD.
Must think like MEATHEAD.You
are horny. You are heavy.“I … I AM H-HORNY
… HEAVY … YES.”Feels so good to pull down that
weight now that he’s listening. Arms are heavier. Weight’s not so bad anymore.Big
balls. Big meat.Clank. Release. Follow the rhythm.
So easy to fall in with the others. Fall in and obey. Don’t think. Just move.
Just lift. Just obey.“BIG BALLS … Big … MEAT.” Did
… did he really just say that? Sounds like …Meat.
Meat … Meat … Mea–NO! Have to be
strong. Have to remember. Remember who he is. “I … I am Hun … Hun…”Switching to crunches. Press.
Massive
meat. Tiny brain. Don’t think. Obey.
I think for you.Clank.
Massive meat. Bulging balls. Huge.
Tight. Pleasure. Remember pleasure. Remember and OBEY. “Hun … I am Hun …” Don’t
remember. Forget name. What is his name? It’s … starting with that sound. Can’t
… can’t think … can’t … remember …Like
a horse.Crunch.
“Hun–” Sounds like– Massive
meat. Huge. Growing.Clank.
Like
a horse.Crunch.
“Hung–” Yes. Hung. That
was it … wasn’t it? Tiny brain. Massive meat. Bulging. Feels good.Clank.
Like
a horse.Crunch.
“I am–” Can’t
think.Clank.
Hung
like a horse. You are hung like a
horse. Say it.Crunch.
Obey. Say it. Talk like Meathead. “I’M LIKE
SO FUCKING HUNG, BRO! LIKE A FUCKING HORSE!” Smile. OBEY. Pleasure.Clank.
Laugh.
Must obey. Laughing. He’s laughing.
Everyone is laughing. Switching to leg lifts. Eyes on screen. Don’t think.
OBEY.Deep
laugh. Dumb laugh. Empty laugh. Deeper. Dumber.
The more you laugh, the less you think. Empty your mind.Lift.
Listen. OBEY. Lift. Relax. Laugh. Empty. Grow.
OBEY. Deeper. OBEY. Dumber. OBEY. Empty.Clank.
“EMPTY …” He said it. Not
the other. So slow. So deep. Like … like uh … something slow. Weird, usually
has better quips than that with his tiny brain. So tiny … because of his
massive meat. No time to worry about it. Don’t think. Don’t worry. Obey. Keep
working.Lift.
“THAT’S RIGHT, BRO. FEELS GOOD,
DOESN’T IT?” Other him again. Maybe … maybe not so bad, though. Deep
voice. Deep is good.Clank.
Deeper.
Deeper.Lift.
“Good … What … What’m I …?”
Clank.
Deeper.
Dumber. Don’t think.Lift.
Deeper. Dumber. Don’t think. Can’t
think. Listen. OBEY. Muscles. Grow. “YUH … GOOD.”Clank.
Good
and dumb.Lift.
“Uh … Yeah. GOOD AND DUMB.”
He grunts. In control again. Feels right. Pleasure. So relaxed. Up and down. In
and out. So dumb. So hung. So much meat. Just like he says.Clank.
Big
and dumb.Lift.
Yes. Big and dumb. Wait … what was
…? Don’t think. OBEY. Hung. He is hung. So hung. Good and dumb. Big and dumb. He
is hung.Clank.
You
are hungry.Lift.
He is hungry.
Clank.
Hungry
for muscles.Lift.
“Hungry … I … want … MUSCLES, BRO.
NEED MORE MUSCLES.”Clank.
Good
boy.“Good boy.”
“GOOD BOY.”
The three sound almost
simultaneous. Ringing in his ears. In his head. His empty head. Empty. Same
words playing across the screen. Good boy. OBEY. Pleasure. MEATHEAD. OBEY. Dumb MEATHEAD.
Dumb brute. REMEMBER. OBEY.Lift.
Obey.
Clank.
OBEY. OBEY. Must … must … “I … I
… I OBEY.” More pleasure. Stronger now. So strong. So good.Lift.
“WE OBEY, BRO.” Other him
again. But he’s like Meathead. Gotta listen to Meathead. So, uh, gotta listen
to him, too. Obey. Empty. Don’t think.Clank.
“Meatheads obey, Lil’bro,” MEATHEAD
said.MEATHEADS OBEY. OBEY.
OBEY.Set’s over. Stopping. Staring.
Listen. Obey.You
are a meathead, a dumb brute with an empty head. You listen. You obey.“O-BEY…” DUMB
BRUTE. OBEY. EMPTY HEAD. YES. OBEY.“You’re a meathead, Lil’bro. Just
accept it,” MEATHEAD said.NINE.
DUMB BRUTE. HUGE. HUNG. CARE
ABOUT MEAT. MEATHEAD. MASSIVE MEAT. MUSCLE. DUMB. BRUTE. “I … I’M a …”“SAY IT, BRO.” His lips
again. Not him though. Other him. Or … is it? DON’T MATTER. LISTEN. OBEY.“M–Mmmmm…” OBEY. OBEY. OBEY. “MMmmEAT
…” Something … in his head. Must …Be dumb. Don’t think. You are a
dumb brute. OBEY. Convert to muscle. OBEY. You are meat. You are a mindless
brute. OBEY.Grinning. He’s … grinning again.
Frown gone. Yes … feels … so good. To–Listen. Speak.
OBEY. Say what you are.“I’M A … A …”
OBEY.
“TOTAL MEATHEAD, BRO.” Pleasure.
So much pleasure. Rebounding. Rocketing.OBEY.
Yes. So good to just –
OBEY. Lift.
OBEY.
Drain everything. OBEY. Serve. OBEY. Lift. OBEY. Repeat.“MEATHEAD. TOTAL MEATHEAD.
OBEDIENT. I OBEY. YES. GOOD TO LIFT. GOOD TO OBEY. DUMB BRUTE. MORE I OBEY,
MORE DUMB EVERY DAY. I OBEY. EMPTY HEAD. OBEY. I OBEY. I OBEY. I OBEY.”“We obey,” MEATHEAD said.
“WE OBEY.” PLEASURE. LIFTING IS
GOOD. PUMPING IS GOOD. SO GOOD. HEART PUMPING. GROWING BIGGER.Yes. Say it. Own it. OBEY.
MEATHEAD. MUSCLE. BRUTE. OBEY.“BRO … I FEEL … LIKE SO FUCKING
PUMPED! PRIMAL!”REMEMBER. OBEY.
“TOLD YA, BRO. WE SWOLE.” Other
him. He likes other him. He’s a meathead, too.SWOLE. PUMP. MEATHEAD. OBEY.
His shorts. So tight now. Feel
ready to burst. Good. So FUCKING GOOD. Good to flex. Show
off.Make more. Repeat.
“MAKE … MORE.”
“YEAH, BRO. MAKE MORE MEATHEADS.
JUST LIKE US.” He’s laughing now. Feels good to laugh. Head is so
clear. No. Not clear. Empty. More he laughs, emptier it gets. Yes. Because he
OBEYs. The more he OBEYs, the dumber he gets.Empty your head. OBEY.
Laugh
it all away. REMEMBER. OBEY.“I OBEY. Huh huh huh.” The
laugh is deep, not the same, sortof dull. Kinda like it. He’s … sitting.
Staring now. No new sets. Body not moving anymore. Why? Uh …Stare at the screen. Watch.
Listen. Obey.STARE. WATCH. LISTEN. OBEY. HE
OBEYS. HE IS A MINDLESS MEATHEAD. WATCHING. SEES A BLACK DOT. IT’S … BENT.
CURVED AROUND SOMETHING.Focus on the dot.
“FOCUS ON DOT … I OBEY.”
You obey, sir.
“I OBEY, SIR.”
Obey my voice.
“YES, SIR. I AM A MEATHEAD. I AM A DUMB
BRUTE. I OBEY.”Remember my voice. Remember to
obey.“YES, SIR. WILL REMEMBER. WILL
OBEY.” LEANING INTO SCREEN. SO HEAVY. GOOD TO BE HEAVY. HEAVY IS MUSCLE.
MUSCLE IS GOOD. MEAT IS GOOD. BIGGER MEAT. SMALLER BRAIN. SHORTS SO TIGHT. DOT
IS SHRINKING. CURVE … GETTING BIGGER. WHAT … WHAT IS IT? SOMETHING FAMILIAR … CAN’T
REMEMBER.Your old mind is the dot. Watch
it shrink. Make it shrink. Focus. The smaller the dot, the smaller your mind, the
more the muscle.“SMALLER DOT, SMALLER MIND. YES,
SIR. I OBEY.”And?
“SMALLER DOT, MORE MUSCLES, SIR.”
Muscle is meat. Bigger muscles,
bigger meat.“YES, SIR.” HE SHUDDERS. HE FEELS
IT. BODY SO FULL. BIG. GETTING BIGGER. DOT IS SHRINKING. NO BIGGER THAN A
QUARTER NOW. HE SEES … MORE OUTLINE. WHITE FABRIC. CLINGING. WATCH THE BLACK.
OBEY.“I OBEY.”
“I OBEY.” OTHER
HIM. HE OBEYS, TOO. FUNNY.You are meatheads.
“YES, SIR.”
“YES, SIR.” YEAH.
HE’S A MEATHEAD, TOO. SAME. OBEDIENT. HE LIKES THAT.You are brutes.
“YES, SIR.”
“YES, SIR.”
You are one.
“WE ARE ONE.” MEATHEAD.
ONE. ONE VOICE. ONE MIND. HE IS OTHER
HIM. OTHER HIM IS HE. HE IS A DUMB BRUTE. WATCH DOT. OBEY. SO TINY. ALMOST
GONE. WATCH. OBEY. REMEMBER. OBEY. GROW. OBEY. MASSIVE MEAT. OBEY. MEAT … MEAT
… HIS MEAT … THAT’S WHAT IT IS! SOMETHING
ABOUT … Turning … into … MEATHEAD. HE … DIDN’T
… want … WANT … WANT MUSCLES. YES.
MUSCLES ARE MEAT. WANT MEAT.No fear. You love being a
meathead. Obey. Serve. Remember. Love it. Let go. Surrender.“YES. I … OBEY.” HE CAN SPEAK.
HE’S … BEEN SPEAKING, BRO. NO TIME TO CELEBRATE. HE IS A GOOD MEATHEAD. HE
OBEYS. HE MUST LISTEN TO SIR. MUST OBEY SIR. LET GO FOR SIR. SURRENDER TO SIR.TEN.
BLACK SPOT GONE. HUNTER GONE. WHO
IS HUNTER? DON’T QUESTION. DON’T THINK. EMPTY. BLANK. STARE. OBEY.Can you hear me?
“YES, SIR.” SIGH. OBEY. LISTEN. GOOD.
You are mine.
“YES, SIR.” OBEY SIR. BELONG TO
SIR.You obey me.
“YES, SIR.” OBEY SIR.
You serve me.
“YES, SIR.” SERVE SIR.
Remember my voice.
“YES … SIR …” REMEMBER. OBEY.
BELONG TO SIR.I control you.
“YES. YOU CONTROL ME, SIR. I
OBEY.”I am your coach.
“YOU ARE MY COACH, SIR.”
You obey me.
“YES, SIR, COACH.”
What is your name?
NAME? DID HE … HAVE A NAME? He
felt his massive shoulders shrug, his giant chest expand and contract.
NOTHING. EMPTY. DUMB. DON’T THINK. “I DON’T KNOW, SIR.”Good boy. You have no name.
COACH IS HAPPY. THAT MAKES HIM
HAPPY. REPEAT. OBEY. “I HAVE NO NAME, SIR.” NO NAME. EMPTY. BRUTE. DUMB. NO
NAME.I will give you a name. You will
remember it when you are called. Remember my control. Remember me. Remember who
you are. Remember to obey your coach.“YES, SIR …”
Your name is Brute.
“MY NAME IS BRUTE.”
You are Brute.
“I AM BRUTE.”
You are my Brute.
“I AM YOUR BRUTE.”
OBEY.
“I OBEY.” OBEY. OBEY. OBEY. BRUTE
OBEYS COACH. BECAUSE BRUTE IS A MEATHEAD. A BIG, DUMB MEATHEAD.When you are ordered to wake up,
you will return to Brute. You will be only brute. You are brute.“BRUTE WILL WAKE WHEN ORDERED. I
AM BRUTE.”You will wake when your controller
tells you to remember.“YES, SIR. BRUTE OBEYS.”
If I have need of you beforehand,
I will call you. When you hear me call you by your new name, you will return to
Brute. You will OBEY my orders and carry them out.“YES, SIR.
Always OBEY.
“ALWAYS OBEY.”
Always SERVE.
“ALWAYS SERVE.”
REMEMBER. You are my Brute.
“I AM YOUR BRUTE, COACH.”
Watch the screen.
The screen flickered, then showed
some weird video. Some twinky walking in with two MEATHEADS. He is thin. Nervous.
NEEDS
MUSCLE. NEEDS TO BE A MEATHEAD. MAKE MORE MEATHEADS. Twinky sits in a
chair. IV gets stuck in his arm.Remember, Brute.
The twinky is bulking up. He’s
grinning. His eyes are alive. Then restraints slide out. He is held in the
chair. A helmet lowers. He starts to struggle. He is scared. He screams. MEATHEADS
just stare ahead. Helmet drops. It whirrs up. Helmet reads SLEEPER DRONE in big
red letters. Screams stop. Body twitches. Body grows. Twinky isn’t a twinky
anymore. Helmet lifts. Newbie is asleep. But … he’s not a MEATHEAD. Looks familiar.Remember, Brute. Remember. Your
trigger word is remember.“… REMEMBER.”
It’s time to wake up.
“…WAKE … UP?”
Wake
up … Wake up …
Dave, got to his senses lacing wrestling boots, not knowing how he got to there … His roommate looking at him with a smirk in his own wrestling gear
– “what the fuck’ said Dave as he continue lacing up unable to stop
– “welcome to the team bro”
– ‘ I told you i quit wrestling altogether, never want to again’
– ‘ look to me you are gearing up for it … hahahah How can you not want it … doesn’t this gear feel good ?’ replied Karl his roommate. and Wreslting team captain
– ‘ humm yeah it does … what is happening….” he felt aroused and aggresive wanting to wrestle more and more
– “don’t worry your little head…we needed a good replacement for Tom who got injured, coach asked me to convinced you … and I did using hypnosis and subliminal … now it is almost complete…
– ‘complete ? what you mean ? …?”
– “ what type of boot are you wearing ? “
– “ wrestling” he automatically answered and felt a rush of pleasure…
– “I didnt hear you “
– “
wrestling” he repeating without thinking and louder, as he did the gear felts so good and he started to wonder why he stopped practicing in the first place…”wht are you … “
– ‘ Again bro one last time !’
–
“ wrestling fucking boots man’ as he said that he felt an incredible rush of strength energy and want to be a good member of the wrestling team … A need for that championship …
– ‘ You were saying you didn’t wanna be part of the team bro, if that is the case i will let you change and go back to the dorm ‘
– ‘ Are you fucking kidding i need to practice for next tournament bro ….Let,s go”
At that Karl only grinned, ‘ as i say welcome to the team bro!’
I’ve never picked up a hitchhiker before. Why would I? You never know when it’s some carjacker or serial killer or chatty person. But none of that mattered when I saw him. Buff and ripped, shirtless, porn-star-handsome face. I didn’t even invite him into my car. He just jumped in as soon as I slowed down.
“Thanks, man!” he said. “Name’s Joey.”
I asked him where he was heading and he said Muscle Beach. A little out of my way since I was just visiting my grandma in the next county. He said it was better than nothing. I couldn’t help but notice him rubbing his crotch while he looked out the window. Of course I didn’t stop him, but I didn’t join in either. Sure, he looked like gaybait, but that was just the thing that would attract a victim to a gaybashing.
“Man, I can’t wait to get there.“ He flexed his arms as a follow up. “I’m gonna get so fucking huge. I’ll be the biggest guy there is. All natural too. No fucking roids for me. No, sir.”
I smiled at this and kept asking him questions about himself and his lifting. He told me that he’d just caught the muscle bug recently. He couldn’t remember when exactly, “But it feels like I just started yesterday. All my life I was this little runt, but now? Now I feel like a real man. A real god damn man.“ He looked down and saw what he’d been doing almost the whole time he was in the car. “Sorry, man. Can’t help it. Been real horny lately. It’s the muscle." Joey just laughed and smiled, then he went back to groping his crotch. He was serious about it too, practically masturbating in his jeans. I had to fight to watch the road.
"Aw, man, I hope you don’t mind. I gotta shoot five times a day now, sometimes six. You ever feel like that?”
Before I could answer he said “Naw, course you don’t. You gotta start lifting, man! It really lets the animal out.” and then he groaned,working his bulge–and what a bulge!–with right hand while he explored his pecs and abs with his left.
“Yeah, I probably should." I said, finding my own hand drifting downward. I pulled over by the side of the road.
"Whoa, whoa! Why we stoppin’?” Joey said.
My reply: “Hey, no offense, but I gotta take care of business too.”
“Oh, cool! This gets you off, huh?” Joey bounced his pecs and I just nodded.
“Awesome. Yeah, let’s get our dicks off and then we’ll be on our way.”
I got out of the car to slide in on the back seat, next to Joey. He put his arm around me and pulled me in close.
“I like you, man. You ain’t built but I can tell. You’re a muscle bro inside. You just gotta let it out.”
“Let it out, huh?” I said. “Yeah, I’ll let it out.” and I hauled out my nine-inch wood.
“Damn, bro!” Joey said and he released his own eight inch beast. He watched my meat just as intently as I watched his.
“You feelin’ anything?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.” That’s what I meant but, as soon as I said it, I felt like everything was spinning through me, like I was getting mixed up in the rest of the world. Only Joey seemed constant.
Joey laughed and kissed me on the cheek. I just kept jacking. And jacking. And, ohhhhhh, the jacking! I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt such a bad need to cum, but it wasn’t coming out. It was building up.
“Whoa, Joey, I think–”
“Keep strokin’, bro” he said. “If you wanna be a muscle bro, if you wanna be a real man, you keep your hand on your cock.”
I wanted to say "Yeah, Right” but I knew it was true. If I wanted to be a real man, I had to keep jacking.
My abdomen clenched, making me groan, but Joey said “Just keep jacking. Just keep jacking." Something popped in my spine and Joey’s reply was the same. And he was right. I know he’s right. If I wanted to be a real man. And, boy, did I want to be a real man. A real, muscle driven, cock enslaved MAN. And even though it looked like it almost always had, I couldn’t help but think about how hot my body looked.
As the pressure built, it was like I was becoming more handsome, more stud by the moment. I had the weirdest flashbacks to my gym. Memories of myself lifting heavier and heavier weights, then going back to the showers just to beat off with the other guys. It was so weird, as if I’d never gone into the gym before, only to have the memories come into my mind from somewhere else, like they were playing on TV
I pulled my shirt off and Joey said "Yeah, man! You ARE a muscle bro, bro! Keep pumpin’ that cock. I like it!”
That comment made my day, but I already fucking new it. When hadn’t I been a muscle bro? I was just trying to be modest but you know what they say. Bros before Hoes!
Wait… that’s not right. It’s…
Just forget it. Forget everything. I did and look at me now. Look at almost 300 pounds of glory. Look at how fat my pecs are and how ripped and small my waist is. And there’s no steroids. No deca. No nothing. Just a lot of steak and spinach, a lot of shooting my load wherever I’m allowed to. A lot of hardcore lifting.
I blew my load and Joey blew right along with me, both of us screaming like we’d each never cum before that moment.
“Now that’s how a muscle bro cums, bro.” Joey said, breathless. I just shook my head and gave him the keys. “Your turn, bro.”
I suddenly remembered that I told my grandma I was going to visit, and I felt bad about it, but I had more important things to do. We had a long ass drive to Muscle Beach, and we had to make sure we got our gym time in on the way. And we had to keep our cocks drained if we didn’t want to get blue balls.
Funny how I remember it all like it happened yesterday.
A golden oldie of mine
A very hot golden oldie!
Oh no, bro. Did you forget what you were doing? Again? Ah, man. That sucks, bro. It’s a lot harder to focus on things now, huh? Not like when you used to be Mr. Smart Guy. You used to think you were so smart, didn’t you, bro? You probably don’t even remember that, do you? But you actually were pretty fuckin’ smart. Now you can’t even remember what you’re supposed to be doing from one moment to the next without me fuckin’ telling you what to do.
Pretty sure you were thinking about making your pre-workout protein shake, weren’t you, bro? You’ve made your body really sexy for me with all those muscles and tattoos, and you want to keep making it sexier, don’t you, bro? And you’re going to think about me with every rep of every exercise you do at the gym today, aren’t you? Yeah, that’s right. You’re going to think about how happy it makes me to see you slowly turning yourself into the dumbest, buffest bro at the gym.
Yeah, there’s that stupid smile I like.
Himbo, Muscle Growth and Dumbing Down Stories 