“VR” photographed by Wade Henderson
“Where did this come from?”
He looks again at the cage. He’d never seen one in real life, he’d only seen them from time to time online and he would never, NEVER, wear one. Not him. His dick was his best friend, the center of his life and he always made sure it get some action. And ladies just loved it, long and hard and always ready to pump.
Where did that cage come from? He tries to think. Yesterday… did he do anything he doesn’t remember last night? Perhaps he got drunk and someone put that up in there as a prank?
He tries to think about the last woman he had sex with. She was… her name was… he can’t remember it. Not that a player always remembers the names, but he can’t even remember when it was.
What was the last time he fucked a woman? He looks at the calendar and suddenly time gets blurry. Somehow it feels like it’s been not days, but weeks or months since the last time he went out to chase women and get one in his bed.
It feels like he just wake up from the life of a different person.
What has he been doing then? He looks around at his house. There’s not just the cage, but rings and handcuffs at the top of his bed, a massive dildo in the night table, and half of his closet is full of clothes he doesn’t recognize and that don’t fit him. He touches them and vaguely remembers buying them and taking them off someone, but he can’t remember who or how.
He thinks about his job. What happened there? Is he still working there? He remembers his office, a corporate ladder he was climbing, but all that feels distant and somehow deep in he knows he’s no longer working there… or anywhere.
It’s like waking up and finding out half of your life has been stolen by another person. He can’t even remember what he was doing before he stopped in the hallway and felt the cage and startled himself awake.
He goes to the bed and grabs the dildo. It feels massive but familiar, as if they know each other intimately, as if he has been seeing it for days, in that dream he lived without memories. He looks at it and it feels so natural, so normal to hold it and put some lube on it.
He only realizes what he’s about to do when he’s already opening his legs and the dildo is rubbing on his hole. He’s about to fuck himself, his body going on autopilot, and somehow it feels right. He may not know what he’s been doing, but his body does. And it’s just too late to stop.
He’s vaguely surprised at how easily the dildo goes in his ass. No resistance at all, no questions, it feels completely natural to be fucking himself with it.
It feels good.
It feels so good he’s having a hard time thinking, all he can do is fuck himself and let the feeling wash over him. It feels right, to be lying on his back fucking himself with that huge rubber cock. He closes his eyes and surrenders to the feeling.
He doesn’t cum. His cock doesn’t even get hard, it just leaks in the cage, but he doesn’t pay attention to it. He’s feeling with his ass and all he feels is the pleasure of being fucked, and he eventually gets to a climax based only of the pleasure his ass is giving him.
It feels like an orgasm, starting on his ass and spreading to all of his body and all of his mind, pushing out all thoughts and memories. He shakes and moans and cries out in pleasure, fucking himself until he comes down from that high.
He takes out the dildo. It feels good whenever he fucks himself. It’s nice that his Master lets him do that, as long as he doesn’t cum, because he needs to be always on the edge, always horny, always ready in case his Master wants to fuck him.
He cleans the dildo and leaves it beside the bed and looks at the clock. It’s past noon already, and he still has to do laundry and clean up for Master, and be ready to wait for him on his knees when he arrives.
It feels so good to be a house slave for him, to live for him and to serve him… he feels a surge of pride while he cleans his cage, knowing it’s a sign of how owned he is, how submissive he is, how much he belongs to his Master.
He goes to the laundry room and prepares the first load, while he prepares himself in his mind for his Master’s load later, in the night. The dildo feels good, but nothing can feel better than his Master.
He’s so lucky to be a slave…
(I’m writing a full hypno-themed novel called Matt and the Hunters, you can find it in Sponsus and Gumroad, and you can also find daily short captions on my Twitter!)
Jacking His Mind Away
Frank heard the door open. He heard the door close again. But his entire mind was down in his cock right now, and the sounds didn’t really mean that much to him. His whole consciousness was focused on the throb of pleasure that accompanied every heartbeat, blood pumping down to his priapic shaft that drooled precum all over his fingers as he thoughtlessly stroked. The door, the spiral, the warm and soothing masculine voice that asked him, “How do you feel right now, good boy?” None of those things really penetrated the fog of lust and arousal that consumed him. He gave a token nod and a tiny stoned chuckle, but they were more reflexive than anything else.
“That’s right,” the man said, his hands beginning to caress Frank’s bare chest and stiff, aching nipples. “You feel very good because you’re in the spiral right now, pet, and the spiral makes everything warm and soft and sleepy.” If Frank could have talked, if he could have kept hold of any kind of train of thought for longer than a fraction of a second before his pumping fist jacked it away in another wave of ecstasy, he would have told the person next to him that the spiral had nothing to do with it. He felt good because his cock was so sensitive right now, and every time he stroked up and down the slick shaft in time with the spiral’s turns he felt it throb a little bit louder until it drowned out each and every last bit of his internal voice. But he couldn’t hang onto that contradictory inner monologue, not with his dick so very hard and needy. So he simply let his head bob again in amiable compliance and stared at the pretty images on the screen.
The other man’s fingers tweaked and teased Frank’s nipples with one hand, the other one drifting down to Frank’s balls to stroke and caress them with an attentive touch so blissful that only the pull of the spiral held back Frank’s climax. “You’re so grateful to me for giving you this experience,” the masculine voice cooed in his ear, each word encountering not a single notion to impede its journey into the core of Frank’s identity. “You’ll do absolutely anything for me now that I’ve shown you how good it feels. Including forgetting everything that happened in this room until I choose to let you remember.” Again, Frank’s head went up and down all on its own–in time with the turning of the spiral, in time with the motion of his hand on his desperately yearning cock. There was nothing left inside him to disagree now.
“You belong to me, now,” the other man said, and Frank’s cock throbbed in agreement with every heartbeat. “You’re my good little slave, my brainwashed fucktoy, and the more deeply you accept that truth the better you feel. When you fully accept it, when you make it a part of yourself and seal it into the center of your mind and give yourself completely to me, your cock is going to spurt for me in the best orgasm you’ve ever experienced in your entire life. Are you ready for that, pet? Are you ready to–” He didn’t even have a chance to finish the sentence. The moment Frank’s hypnotized mind understood what he was being commanded to do, his personality reoriented itself around the new guiding principle of his existence in an eager effort to achieve the release he craved, and jets of pearly semen shot almost two feet into the air to announce his subjugation to his Master’s inexorable will.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
Jake Finds a New Nightclub
This nightclub was weird, Jake thought loosely to himself as his attention was caught by the motion of the glittering spotlights moving up and down and around the wall. The dress code was… well, okay, it wasn’t, and even though they’d explained it to him at great length back at the entrance he still couldn’t quite understand the reason it was necessary to be naked the whole time he was here. Jake felt a bit vulnerable, standing around a whole bunch of other men without even a pair of underpants to conceal his dick. They could all see him, and–and he kind of had a chubby right now, not that it was because he was hanging around with a bunch of other nude men or anything. The guys here might think that was strange.
And why was it just guys? Jake’s mind drifted back to the host at the entrance, the one who’d been so kind about recognizing that it was his first time at the club and had taken all that time to sit him down and lay out all the rules for good behavior. He’d explained that too, something about how women were nice and all but sometimes a man just needed a space to relax around other men and get comfortable in their own bodies. Relax and get comfortable. Relax and get… the thought trailed off into amiable silence in Jake’s head as his cock throbbed with pleasure once again. He managed to look down just long enough to see the hand on his flushed, twitching shaft, stroking him to a full erection, but the lights caught his attention again and his gaze moved back to them without any real struggle on his part. This was part of the rules, too.
Because he’d passed through the entrance, hadn’t he? The host had explained it all to him, and even though Jake remembered having some–some difficulties accepting that explanation at first, the older man had assured him it would all make sense once he was entranced. That was what that sign really meant, after all. Jake didn’t understand it before tonight, because nobody had taken the time to help him really get it into his fuzzy, empty head, but the sign over the club didn’t mean ‘entrance’ as in 'the place you go in’. It meant 'entrance’, as in 'to hypnotize’. Jake passed through the entrance and he was entranced. That part made perfect sense, even if the rest of it was a little outside of his experience with nightclubs.
He had to admit, though, it was a nice way to pass the evening. None of that boring dancing, no pointless bullshit conversations about everything except the one topic that was really on everybody’s mind, just staring at the pretty lights and getting each other’s rocks off. Just dudes who knew what dudes wanted, who understood exactly how to pleasure a cock because they all had one, and once Jake let his hangups about being touched by another man drift into the dazzling patterns on the wall and fade into blissful irrelevance, he found that he loved it. He wanted to return the favor. He wanted to jack another guy’s cock until they–un, until they, they, ofucckkk–
Jake’s cock twitched and pulsed, spurting sticky semen all over the other man’s chest. Jake noticed loosely that several of the other club-goers were already decorated with similar badges of effort. And with a final sigh, his resistance collapsed and he sank down to his knees to reciprocate the other man’s attentions.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
Matt Solves a Mystery
Matt looked up, his glassy and stupefied gaze trying to focus on the details of the man sitting on the couch in front of him and place his face in Matt’s admittedly hazy memory. He was Caucasian, that much was obvious, and he had a bit of a beard–short and ginger, the same color as the hair Matt could see sticking out from the red baseball cap he genuinely hoped didn’t have any political slogans. And his eyes were… his, his eyes were…. Shit. Matt couldn’t see them, not from this angle. Not with that massive, jutting erection taking up so much of his field of vision. It turned the stranger into little more than a huge throbbing cock with the vague suggestion of a person attached.
It slowly dawned on Matt that he could probably see more if he shifted positions to look past the cock at the person behind it, but that meant moving and he felt so impossibly comfortable just sitting right where he was on the floor and lightly stroking his own erect penis. That brought him to the gradual realization that he, too, was completely and totally naked, and Matt vaguely wondered why he was squatting nude on the floor in front of another man’s towering phallus, but when he opened his mouth to ask the question his jaw simply hung vacant in rapt fascination and the words got stuck somewhere between his brain and his vocal cords. He didn’t seem to want to talk any more than he wanted to move. He only wanted to sit and stare at that big throbbing erection in front of him. Matt couldn’t remember the last time he’d blinked.
In fact, he… he couldn’t remember much of anything at all, could he? He knew he had a name, and he knew he felt warm and blissed-out and horny from stroking himself and staring at the other man’s titanic dick and big, heavy balls. But everything else had simply faded into blissful irrelevance. Who he was, how he got here, whether he was straight or gay, what his relationship was to the naked guy on the couch who seemed perfectly content to show off his colossal penis and wait for Matt to come to whatever conclusion he was reaching on his own–all those memories had been locked away, leaving Matt blank and empty and unable to stop himself from masturbating to the sight of that great big cock. And the more he played with himself, the more that single word, ‘empty’, reverberated inside his head and made his vacant, drooling mouth increasingly prominent in his confused and fuzzy consciousness.
It occurred to Matt that if he moved his head forward, if he licked and nuzzled his way up those balls and that beautiful shaft to guzzle as much of the stranger’s cock down his throat as he possibly could, he’d be able to see the other man’s face. He’d know who they were, what they wanted, why their ginormous penis seemed to call to Matt with such an irresistible pull, and maybe–maybe everything would make sense then. Yes. Yes, he was sure it would. Everything would make sense with a dick in his mouth, and all he needed to do was stir himself out of his passive lethargy and make it happen. Matt noticed that the fog of lassitude gripping his limbs evaporated the moment he decided to give this man a blowjob, but it didn’t seem strange or sinister to him. Not when he could wrap his lips around that mesmerizing penis and sink all the way down into his Master’s control. And with a final, helpless sigh, Matt did exactly that.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
Night Meet
Ted felt a little bit of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, but that was only natural before a big match like this–he knew a lot was riding on his performance, and he didn’t want to let the team down. Even so, he couldn’t help feeling like there was something a little bit surreal about the situation, almost dreamlike in its absurdity in some ways; it was an away meet, sure, and there was always something kind of weird about undressing in a strange building, but… didn’t he usually have a wrestling singlet to change into? Walking down the hall without one seemed odd.
And the hallway was dark, wasn’t it? Really dark, like the building was closed down for the evening. Come to think of it, the locker room had been pretty dark too… and small, as well. Really small. Like, barely larger than a broom closet. He’d had just enough room to take off his clothes and stash them in a corner, and he didn’t know where his singlet was, and now he was walking naked down a dark hallway, and–oh, shit. Did he have an erection? He did. Ted reached down and began to stroke himself; the only clear thought in his sudden fugue of panic and confusion was a befuddled conviction that he needed to cum before he went out into the auditorium or otherwise people would see his stiff dick and think he got turned on by the notion of wrestling other men.
But all masturbation did was make him harder, and his feet wouldn’t stop moving around the darkened corridor, and before he knew it Ted emerged into the light with his hand around his rock-hard penis and a stunned, horny look on his face. He was almost relieved to see that the auditorium was almost completely empty, even as it deepened the confusion in his mind–this was a big match, wasn’t it? He knew that college wrestling was kind of struggling to draw an audience these days, but even if they didn’t get a single spectator, he should have at least seen his coach, or his teammates, or a referee. The only person in the vast open space wasn’t even dressed to wrestle. He looked more like the night janitor or something.
But even with all his bewilderment, Ted knew one thing–he was here to wrestle. He went to the center of the ring, instinctively looking to the referee for guidance, but of course there was no one there. Only his opponent, who was standing there fully dressed with his fly down and his dick sticking out of his boxers. Ted wanted to explain to him that he wasn’t stroking himself because he was looking at the other man’s cock, he was just trying to get rid of his erection, but the words got all jumbled up in his brain and he wound up standing there with his mouth hanging open and his hand sliding up and down on his precum-slick shaft. It was almost a relief when the stranger indicated that he wanted to start this round on top; that, at least, was something Ted understood.
He got down on his hands and knees, realizing uncomfortably that his new position put him directly at cock height for the other man, and waited for his opponent to go around behind him and climb on top. But the stranger only looked down at him with an expression of smoldering lust in his deep brown eyes, and Ted slowly remembered that this match had a few different rules. Rules he didn’t need to think about when he wasn’t in this room, late at night, alone with his Master, but rules that made him very happy nonetheless. He leaned forward, mouth still wide open, and took his proper place as a good boy around Master’s yearning shaft.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
The First One's Free
“Hsst! Hey! Hey you!” The words came to Louis in a hoarse, urgent whisper that carried all the way over to the edge of the red brick lecture hall he was passing on his way back from his morning classes. He looked over to see a slightly ratty looking white guy who was dressed, much like Louis, in the kind of practical t-shirt and sweatpants outfit you pulled on when all you really needed to do was get through a few hours of semi-responsible adulting before you could go back to the dorm and take a nap. The only difference between him and Louis was the expression of intense interest on his face. “Over here, dude!” Interest, apparently, in Louis.
Intrigued despite himself, Louis approached closer. He didn’t feel unsafe, not in the middle of a public place like this, and the stranger seemed very interested in talking to him. “Come here, dude,” the man said, his voice wheedling softly as Louis approached. “Got a little something for you. Check it out, my guy, I know you’re gonna love it.” He put his arm around Louis, steering him up against the wall and not incidentally blocking the view of any passers-by with his body. Before Louis could even react, the other man reached into the front of Louis’s sweatpants and tucked his fingers under Louis’s genitals. “It’s your cock, dude. Primo stuff, the best you’re gonna find on campus. Absolutely pure. You want a little?”
Louis stared down at himself in gape-jawed confusion, unable to believe what was even happening to him. It all happened so fast he barely even had time to think about what was going on before the stranger began to stroke and rub his shaft with warm, callused hands that quickly stiffened him to a full erection and added to the muzzy, stupefied bewilderment that kept him from reacting. “It’s good shit, isn’t it?” the other man asked, pumping him up and down until it was difficult to think about anything but the pleasure that radiated up from his twitching cock. “Can’t say no to that shit, can you?” Louis tried, he really did, but every time he tried to form the notion another pulse of hot, surging ecstasy flowed into his mind and broke apart his thoughts with sheer euphoria until he found himself standing there and drooling in vacant, brainless bliss.
“It’s cool, man, I know where to get more if you like this.” The stranger leaned in, whispering into Louis’s ear as his hand expertly manipulated Louis’s achingly hard shaft until he was on the edge of orgasm. “You just go up to Hennenberg Hall, Room 210, ask for Rufus. I’ll take care of you.” The words seemed to sink into Louis’s softened mind, pressed in like a seed planted in freshly-tilled soil, and he found himself nodding vapidly at the other man’s words without really knowing why. He wasn’t gay, or at least he didn’t think he was gay, but something about the relentless motion of those roughly stroking fingers made his dick leak precum all over the goddam place. It felt like less than a minute before his balls tightened and he jetted gush after spurting gush of sticky jizz all over the sidewalk.
Nobody seemed to notice. Rufus tucked Louis’s cock back into his trousers and wiped his hand on the thigh of Louis’s sweatpants. “Room 210, man. Whenever you need another fix.” Then he walked away, leaving an embarrassed Louis to admit, if only to himself, that he’d be visiting soon for another hit of the warm, sensual pleasure it seemed that only another man could provide.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
thehypnoden
My Adult Hypnosis Files
All files have their difficulty rating next to them. Level 1 is an easy to get into trance, 2 is a little more deep, and 3 is for experienced hypnosis subjects.
My Patreon can be found at the new link, patreon.com/raydensden
-Hypnoboy Part 1 (lvl 1)
-Hypnoboy Part 2 (lvl 2)
-Hypnoboy Part 3 (lvl 3)
-Hypnoboy Training Pt. 1 (lvl 2)
-Stress Relief (lvl 1)
-Puppy Pet Training Part 1 (lvl 1)
UPDATED- 7/08/2018
It was late afternoon, and the night desk of the I.F. Inn was processing the last customer in line. Kristopher shook his head, wondering what it was about this place that was weirder, it’s location or it’s staff. The trappings seemed to be stunning, but that just made the fact he had never heard of it very odd. It was between the city and the airport, and along a major highway, and he visited this town fairly often, but never remembered seeing it until this panic trip, but thankfully they had rooms available.
Odder still was the staff. The guy behind the desk seemed to be very attentive but had no idea what he was doing. Kristopher had given information slowly and respectfully, and still had to repeat himself, just like every other person in front of him. One of the other guests had been so angry and asked for the manager, who had arrived and dealt with him much more effectively than the front desk, serving him and leading him away. Maybe this place was just too new to have skilled staff or reputation, but the place didn’t look like it. It was well cared for, but had a feeling of solid old luxury.
Shaking his head, Kristopher turned from the desk with his room key and bumped straight into the manager, who had silently moved up behind Kristopher. It was all Kristopher could do not to shout. The man raised his hands in apology. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Mr. Lamperos, the manager of this establishment. I hope you haven’t been inconvenienced too much? We are looking for new front desk staff, and have Matny here mainly as a stopgap. He’s normally serving clients in other ways.”
“Quite alright, Mr. Lamperos, I understand, staffing can be a hassle in my business too. I’m more curious about when you opened up here? I’ve never heard of this hotel, or seen it in town.”
“Oh, we haven’t been here long, but the hotel itself has a long history. But, since you’re new here, let me show you the accommodations. One of the porters can handle your bags.”
“No, I think-”
“I insist, sir. Let me take you through the gym first. I think you would appreciate that best.”
Kristopher found himself tagging along as Mr. Lamperos strode to one of the doors off the lobby. He didn’t really want to, but something about the man made Kristopher just go along with it. He found himself in a well appointed wood and stone locker room, with heavily tinted glass doors on the on the right wall. Mr. Lamperos gestured as he walked to one of the doors. “Before I show you the equipment, I feel I should show you the amenities. These are individual sauna booths, to relax in.” As Kristopher followed along, Mr. Lamperos grabbed one of the handles. “I think you’d be interested in whats in here.”
Mr. Lamperos jerked the door open, and Kristopher was startled to see a man inside, sitting in the steam, a towel held at his waist. The man made no reaction to the sudden opening of the door however. His head seemed to be lolled to the side, his eyes oddly blank. Kristopher stared into those blank eyes, seemingly drawn to them, as they twisted in the red light from the ceiling. Falling into the red and blackness…
Peyton stretched luxuriantly as he walked out of the gym at the hotel. He always blasted out all the kinks after a long flight, and now a good long steam would get him to sleep, helping him to adjust to the new time zone. No one else seemed to be bothering with the well stocked gym here, but that was their loss. He’d have to recommend it to his business partners when they came down from their rooms. Peyton went to one of the lockers and quickly stripped, throwing a towel around his waist afterwards as a sop to modesty in case someone did come in.
Choosing one of the doors at random, Peyton pulled it open. A wall of thick, fog like steam rolled out of it, and Peyton inhaled deeply. The steam smelled sweet, though there was too much of it. Peyton reached into the cubicle, fumbling for the controls, but they did not seem to be in easy reach of the door. He stepped in, still feeling along the wall for some controls, and heard the thud as the glass door closed behind him. Puzzled, Peyton turned back, sitting down on the stool. How had the door closed? He hadn’t seen anything that would make it close automatically. He cocked his head to one side, confused.
The steam was still coming on strong, and he felt lightheaded for a moment. He should turn it down. Right, that was what he had been doing before he had been distracted by… something. His head swam, as he breathed deeply of the sweet smelling steam. It pressed into his skin as well, bringing a delightful tingling to every part of his body. But it made it so hard to think. He needed to… do something… oh, right, turn it down. But how could he do that. He thought there would be something to do that with, but what it could be didn’t seem to want to come into his head. Just the steam, rolling over his thoughts. It was everywhere. But it felt so good. Why did he want it to go away. So much better to just sit in it, feel the tingles.
He let out a heavy, dull giggle as he started to revel in the feelings that the steam gave him. The pleasure, and the weight on his brain. Thoughts of who he was, what he wanted, all seemed to get lost in his head. In fact, they were not just lost from his head, but started to come out with his breaths, replaced by the steam. Each breath he felt so much better. It didn’t matter what the glowing, sparkling stuff coming out of him was. He giggled dully again as the motes that were his thoughts swirled away from him. It just felt so good. Nothing to think about. Just feel the pleasure. Pleasure. Pleasure…
Kristopher awoke on the floor of the locker room, Mr. Lamperos standing above him, a look of quiet bemusement on his face. “How fascinating.” Then Mr Lamperos seemed to come to life. “I’m sorry, Kristopher, are you alright? The steam may have overwhelmed you there for a moment.” He proffered his hand.
Kristopher took the hand and was pulled to his feet, still dumbfounded by the experience. He had seemed to watch the man in the sauna as something happened to him, but also could sense his thoughts somehow. What was going on?
Mr Lamperos took Kristopher by the shoulders and guided him to another door. “Lets get something hot into you, Kristopher. It’ll help brace you.” Still trying to find his tongue as he was guided through into the dining area, Kristopher wondered when he had told Mr. Lamperos his name…
Reminded of the Hypnosis Show
“Oh, man,” Brad chuckled, giving Chet a playful pat on the shoulder as he entered the common area with his friends in tow. “You are not going to believe the crazy shit these guys were telling me on the way over about their buddies over in Delta Gamma Epsilon. It was just like that campus hypnotist we got in for the rager last year, remember?” Chet looked up at him from the couch, brow furrowed in confusion. Brad was always going on about some entertainer they booked for a frat party, some kind of stage hypnotist, but Chet didn’t remember anything like that happening. And he knew he would have remembered seeing the guys falling into trance for a hypnotist.
Just as he was opening his mouth to tell Brad just how full of shit he was, a tiny spark of recollection glimmered at the very back of his mind. “That’s it,” Brad murmured, apparently spotting that little gleam of recognition in Chet’s eyes. “You just think back, and I’m sure you’ll remember it just like it was yesterday. Just like it was right now.” Chet noticed Brad’s friends watching him with expressions of excited interest… but he turned his attention inward instead, fanning that spark into a flame until it blazed brightly in his memory. Of course. The hypnosis show. He–he’d volunteered for it, hadn’t he? Chet couldn’t imagine how he’d forgotten something like that.
He felt himself blinking with glacial speed, eyelids shutting and only reluctantly opening again as the memory came back to him. It had been so easy, so warm and comfortable and pleasant to surrender to that trance and let his body relax into cataleptic immobility. He hadn’t really wanted to wake up when it was all over, not when that deep and drowsy sensation felt so inexpressibly wonderful. Drifting into hypnosis felt so good and so right that all he’d wanted to do was obey the hypnotist’s suggestions. “There you go,” Brad purred, coming around the couch to stand directly in front of Chet. He put a warm hand on his frat buddy’s shoulder, a soothing touch that only emphasized the happy memory Chet had just discovered. “Just like it’s happening all over again.”
Chet sighed, his jaw going slack and vacant as he recalled additional details of that evening. The other guys had given him a little bit of a hard time afterwards, just some general frat boy razzing, but Brad… he really understood. He could see how much Chet liked sinking into trance, how much he loved the feeling of being enfolded by that warm and peaceful sense of security and control. He’d been happy to listen to Chet talk about it afterwards, in the privacy of the room they shared together, even encouraging him to picture the experience in every vivid detail. And the more Chet talked about it, the more Chet thought about it, the more real it all became for him. Until… he’d slipped into trance again, hadn’t he? And somehow he forgot that, too.
“That’s my good boy,” Brad cooed, but Chet wasn’t really listening. He was focusing on the sensation of his fluttering eyelids, his slumped shoulders, his loose and heavy head as it drooped forward, and every single part of the experience reminded him of all the other times he’d sunk into trance for Brad. And the more he remembered, the clearer it all became, until his mind was perfectly synchronized to the memories of being hypnotized and obedient for his friend and roommate. He heard the sound of Brad undoing his trousers, pulling out his cock, and that led him to the final recollection. The one he only recalled when he was mindless and blank and compliant. And as soon as it popped into his head, Chet knew what he had to do next.
(If you enjoy this fiction and want to make sure it continues, please visit https://www.patreon.com/Jukebox to become a supporter. Or, if you simply want to make a one-time contribution, you can drop me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/jukebox instead. Thank you!)
This was one of the first videos that made me realize stage/street hypnosis could be hot without anything sexual going on, without any shirtlessness or exposure… Just that sweet moment of MINDLESSNESS.
Applying Myself
‘Dude, what’s Mr. Pewter doing here?’ I sent a bit of a glare his way as I passed him. Mostly because Coach had to practically beg him to give me some kind of extra credit to pass my college algebra class. It’s not like I needed that shit anyways. I was just going to go into health and fitness, not fucking rocket science.
I tried my best to ignore him as I went to the locker that I stored my clothes in. Though, it was a bit harder than it should have been as we were the only two in there at the moment and I could have sworn I saw his eyes drifting over to me. I always had my suspicions on why he really gave me that extra credit, but never directly said anything to him.
Still, I shot him another glare, that only seemed to bring a smile out of him. He seemed more distracted by his phone than me, typing something in it. I rolled my eyes and did my best to stay out of the view of what could have been a camera. Then I could almost hear him mumble something.
A strange flash of light seemed to cover him then disappear. That’s when everything got even weirder. The man was in his late 50’s for sure. But suddenly muscle just started packing onto his body. His scrawny arms instantly started bulging, filling his sleeves. The shirt quickly compressed against his body showing off his broadening shoulders and heavy pecs. He never had much of a gut, but the six powerful bricks forming underneath his ballooning pecs was still rather impressive. Even more so as his traps forced his shirt to rise, showing the bottom row all the better.
“Shoot,” Mr. Pewter wasn’t exactly known for saying bad words. He was currently struggling with the fabric that was pressing down hard against his new muscles. There was nearly no room on his body. What had been a relatively skinny guy had looked like he gained 60 or 70 pounds of muscles in barely an instant. It was the same with his ass as it full out the flexible gym shorts he was wearing. All the way down to thick claves.
I stared blankly as he struggled to get his shirt off. Only accidently ripping it and then tearing it at the collar all the way down to the base. He gave another inoffensive exclamation as he looked at the remains. “Mr.—Mr. Pewter?” I stammered. Somehow, he’d gone from an absolute chump to a bodybuilder in less than a minute. Not to mention all the hard defined muscle seemed to make him look more than 10 years younger.
He spun around, a bit further than he meant to and threw up a flex. “In the flesh,” he smiled. His arms were covered in a thick lattice of veins as though he’d just finished a grueling workout. But that only seemed to give him even more of a pump.
“How’d… How’d you do that?” I stepped forward.
“Oh this?” he went into another flex. “Uhh… Ex student sent me this app thing and I’m still trying to figure it out. Honestly, you weren’t supposed to notice a difference…”
“I wasn’t supposed to notice a dork like you turn into a bodybuilder?” my eyes narrowed as I stared him down.
His smile flickered. “Surprising. I know. But if this thing could change me so much, why wouldn’t it also have that ability too?”
I shrugged at the suggestion. “I don’t know man. Just doesn’t seem real.”
“Want me to try it out?” Mr. Pewter asked.
“Wait. What?” the devious look on his face wasn’t normal. “Like on me?”
“Who else?” he laughed. “I already used it on me. Why not you?”
I eyed him up and down. Jealousy ran through me. He was such a dorky guy and now look at him. Built like an absolute mountain of a man. “Hell yeah!” I cheered. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Dunno,” he shrugged his heavy shoulders. “But I’m going to try a bit of a different setting. So, you let me know if you feel any different. Alright?” He typed a few things into his phone as I looked at myself in the mirror, flexing my arms. If they could look half as good as his…
“Done?” I questioned. My eyes glanced over at him then back at my body. Nothing seemed to have changed. I still had my somewhat muscular body. Nothing compared to him, but still better than most. I glanced over again. “Did you change something about yourself?”
“Why don’t you tell me,” Mr. Pewter smiled.
I looked him up and down. “Hmmm…” I stared a bit more intently than I should have, but I knew something was off. Was it his firm pecs? Or did he make his shoulders broader? Honestly, he looked like he might have gained a bit more muscle everywhere. Not to mention how I was looking up at him now. But hadn’t I since his first change? He just looked so big and sexy. I could barely help myself. Blood was rushing through my system and it was taking everything to not touch my hard cock. With a few quick swipes, I hoped that Mr. Pewter wouldn’t notice. “I don’t know…” I finally answered.
“Really?” Mr. Pewter’s smile only broadened. “Unaware… Really does make you unaware then. Alright. How about this? Partially aware and I’ll make another change. Alright?”
“Alright,” I nodded. He continued to type away into his phone. Suddenly I felt something off. It was like Mr. Pewter was suddenly getting a lot bigger. Like I didn’t come up to his shoulders any more. But that didn’t seem right. Because it was everything. The entire locker room felt like that. My eyes caught the mirror again.
I tilted my head. “I’m getting smaller?” I questioned. I could see myself shrinking. The hard earned muscles from years in the gym dwindling away to nearly nothing. My shoulders thinned out and biceps lost any definition they had. Even my hands seemed to have gone down several sizes and any grit they had smoothed out as though they were as soft as women’s hands. I adjusted my square rimmed glasses as the weight continued to fall off of me. I must have lost at least 60 pounds.
Stranger still was the sleeveless shirt I was wearing started to grow sleeves. An emblem from a comic book hero splashed across the front of it. Even though it was a medium it still felt a bit large on me. “I’m smaller?” I squeaked. Then looked at Mr. Pewter. My cock throbbed with excitement as I stared into his firm pecs. I bit into my bottom lip then stared slack jawed. My hands reached for his body but I forced them down. “What’s—”
“Look pretty good, don’t I?” Mr. Pewter bragged as he threw up his arms for another pose. My entire body squirmed as I saw those hard muscles bulge. The biceps were perfectly sculpted. And watching those veins running across his skin.
Suddenly I forgot how to breath. Words refused to come out of my mouth and all I could do was offer a nod in affection. My hands went to my cock, gently squeezing it through my shorts. I couldn’t help myself. It was like my body was acting on its own, squirming at the mere sight of the massive man. But wasn’t I like that? I couldn’t think. Blood seemed to be going to everywhere other than my brain. And it didn’t help that my asshole felt so empty. I just wanted it feel something deep inside me.
“Something wrong big guy?” Mr. Pewter asked.
The depth of his voice sent another shiver down my spine. “I feel funny,” I said, suddenly learning how to speak again.
“Oh? You’re craving my cock inside you?”
I let out a grunt and my body nearly toppled over. Mr. Pewter let out a soft laugh. He must have known that I made a mess in my underwear. I could already see the stain starting to show through my shorts. I looked up at him again to see a cocky smile.
“It’s alright bud. You’re only partially aware of what’s going on, so let me fill you in,” he got down on my level. “All those extra study sessions, all those extra times you stayed after class with me, turned into a fuck session. All I’d have to do is mention something about my cock and you’d cream yourself.”
I felt my dick harden again at the thought. Suddenly I could remember hundreds of times going to his office or staying after class just to be with him. I remembered the first time I saw him on the college campus and searching for his class specifically to take. And I could remember every time he fucked me. A deep moan escaped my mouth as my knees went weak. My hands naturally grabbed the wet spot in my shorts as my cock hardened again.
“Someone remembers,” Mr. Pewter grabbed me tightly from behind and held me close. His strong body easily wrapped around me and held me still. Not that I was complaining as the coarse hair of his beard rubbed gently against my neck. He kissed me gently. Then whispered in my ear. “Ready?”
I nodded.
My shorts were on the floor and I could feel the tip of his cock dripping pre on my asshole. The head pressed against the hole and pressed in. He held me tighter as more of his cock split me open. Porn stars were incredibly jealous of its size and girth. I knew I was lucky as more of it pushed inside. My asshole had basically molded to it. Only increasing the pleasure for the older man. I moaned and groaned at each of the other man’s thrusts, sending all kinds of sensations through my body. But the feeling the those strong hands gripping my sides were the best part. I felt my insides filled with the other man.
“There we go…” Mr. Pewter smiled. His strong body clung to me as he dropped us both gently to the ground. I saw another mess pooling in front of me. A bit of pride at being able to finish twice filled me just as much as Mr. Pewter. “Now then… I guess I’ll be seeing you after class from now on…”
The light chuckle in his voice made me squirm deeper into his grasp. He seemed to know me really really well.
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Undercover Cop
Officer Coleman was having a hard time figuring out what exactly was going on. It was supposed to be an easy bust. They had a bunch of evidence of illegal drugs in the back of a strip joint, all he had to do was go in as ‘new talent’ and then bust them. But somehow it was hidden better than anyone in the police station realized. And no one was talking.
What was supposed to just be a small tour of the building, turned into a lot longer sting that anyone was prepared for. Luckily Coleman got the job. He was able to stay in the building for the time being and mingle with the other workers. Each one seemed bigger than the last. Coleman made sure to keep his eyes pointed forward as he was too embarrassed to know how he stacked up compared to them in that department as well. Even though they weren’t on stage, every guy still walked around comfortably in nothing but a speedo. Oftentimes breaking out into a bit of a flex as Jimmy, the owner, would walk by.
He went up to the biggest guy in the room. Coleman could feel his heart racing. Could he have already been found out? Even on his first day? But Jimmy just gave the guy a firm slap to the back. “Troy, show the little one the ropes. Alright?”
The juggernaut nodded. “Come with me,” he nodded his head and started walking.
Coleman found himself jogging slightly to keep up. This dude had to be nearly a head taller than him and built like an Olympian. He was so big that it didn’t even look like clothes could fit around his massive arms or shoulders. They bulged with unbelievable power and he wasn’t even doing anything right now. Coleman kept quiet as he walked down the long hallway. He pushed through two large double doors and a bright light shined through.
All Coleman could say was, “Woah,” as he looked at the fully stocked gym. Every piece of equipment that he could have ever imagined was in there and even some he’d never seen before. He wasn’t sure what swings or ropes dangling from the ceiling could be used for and the chains along the wall didn’t seem long enough for rope swinging exercises. But with so much equipment, he figured he’d not have to worry about it.
Not to mention the smell. The strong smell of sweat and iron filled the large gym. But there was something else. Something that Coleman couldn’t quite place. Somehow it was familiar, but not something that he’d search out for. It hung in the air as he followed Troy deep into the gym. “What’s that smell?” Coleman finally asked.
All Troy did was smirk. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll come to know it very well soon enough.” That’s when he started stripping.
“Woah! Woah! Woah!” Coleman backed away for a second. It was more than he expected on one of his first days. Moreso seeing that the giant was more than proportional everywhere. Each of his muscles were toned to absolute perfection and what was shoved into that tiny little speedo looked as though it’d flop out at any second. How such little fabric could hold so much meat was beyond Coleman’s understanding.
“What?” Troy shrugged his heavy shoulders. “You’ll be doing this for money soon enough. What’s the harm in practicing beforehand? Besides, it’ll be easier to see all your flaws.”
Coleman nodded along. Being one of the more rookie officers, he was quite a bit younger than the other guys there. It also meant that he had quite a bit better body as well. He’d worked out hard to be top of his class and make sure his muscles were hard and well defined, perfect for any kind of strenuous running or defense against someone who would try to hurt him.
Slowly he started to strip. “There you go. Get nice and comfortable,” Troy said. His arms had crossed his massive chest, but a smile returned to his face. He watched as Coleman took off his shirt then tossed it to the side. Coleman kicked off his shoes and let his athletic shorts drop. Then paused. “All the way…” Troy ordered.
“But—” Coleman stopped himself. He was undercover. He had to stay that way. Luckily being naked in front of the other man wasn’t as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. Somehow, the more he stripped the more natural it became. Even as his soft cock was on display, Coleman could feel a wave of comfort overcome him. He took another deep breath. And there it was. Peace.
“That’s a good boy,” Troy said. “It feels good to please other men…” Coleman thought about how passing the academy felt. Having the other men praise him for his good work and acknowledge his accomplishments. Thoughts about how proud his father was, his brothers and the other officers filled his mind. He couldn’t help but agree as he drifted in and out of his memories.
Troy smirked. He stood towering just a foot and a half away. But somehow, with all his size, he was able to cross into Coleman’s space without much effort at all. He stood behind him, draping his massive arms over the officer’s shoulders. There was that smell again. Stronger than it had been. Coleman felt himself breath in heavily. “That’s why you workout so much. You know it pleases other men. But you have a few imperfections… Let’s fix those, shall we?”
Coleman felt himself nodding along. His mind was feeling fuzzy, but feeling the other man tell him that he could make more men proud led him on. “Flex,” Troy ordered. Coleman lifted his arm and obeyed. His perfectly sized baseball bicep quickly formed.
“Hmmm… Not bad…” Troy judged. His hands wrapped around it and gave it a squeeze. “Just needs to be a bit bigger.” As he said it Coleman could feel his arm start expanding. Muscle packed onto muscle. It was like hundreds of hours of workouts all packed into mere seconds. Veins bulged out of his arm as the muscle developed past anything he could have done naturally or on his own.
For a second he came out of his high. “What the—!?”
Troy was quick to correct the behavior. “No questioning. Only obey,” he ordered. “Channel your mindless slut.” Coleman’s mind went blank. Any thoughts he had quickly drained out of him. His mouth hung open slightly as a bit of drool dripped out of the side. “Good boy,” Troy said, giving him a kiss.
Coleman eagerly accepted. He wrestled with the other tongue in his mouth, but made sure to let the other man win. Feeling those big hands against his body. Each part they touched only seemed to grow bigger. A numb feeling of accomplishment quickly followed. It was odd. But enjoyable feeling his body grow. Two heavy pecs extended out from his chest. He could feel Troy’s fingers slide through each one of his cobblestone abs. They rested on his ass.
Two massive cheeks ballooned out from his behind. Each second they grew more and more sensitive. Even under Troy’s touch, Coleman could feel his body desiring more. He accidently let out a bit of a whimper.
All Troy did was chuckle. Seeing the strong handsome man’s face contort into something so needy always brought a smile to his face. “What? You want more?” he taunted. Coleman nodded. “Course you do boy.” He undid his underwear, letting his own monster free. Coleman stared blankly. It must have been ten inches and thick as a beer can. He’d never seen one so large before.
More surprising was how he instinctively reach out for it giving it a tug. “That’s a real good boy,” Troy leaned in. “But you’re in for a special surprise…” With that he spun Coleman around and pushed him over. Without so much as a word, he pushed in. Coleman let out a squeak as his asshole was spread wide open. It was surprising how little it hurt. Almost like his asshole molded around the cock rather than the cock forcing itself in. He felt the tip press hard against his sensitive hole, then open up as Troy pushed. The strange feeling of having his insides invaded was oddly pleasurable.
Coleman ended up letting out a soft moan. His body was then squeezed by Troy’s. “That was so much easier than I thought,” Troy bragged into Coleman’s ear. “To think you’d so willing become such a slut. Whoever hired you must not have been treating you very well for you to so easily submit.” He laughed. Not that Coleman was really listening. His cock was hard and needing attention. “But I guess we’ll figure all that out later…”
One of Troy’s big hands drifted down over Coleman’s pecs, down his abs and rested on his cock. “Aww… You’re pretty good size too… Hate to see all that go. But oh well,” he said. As soon as he said it, Coleman’s 7 inches started to shrivel up. Inch by inch it pulled back towards his body. But somehow it was becoming more sensitive as it did so. Just feeling those big hands feel bigger as they gently tugged at his dick made him want to cum. He let out another whimper. Being on the edge was so awful. He wanted to please Troy so badly.
Again, Troy chuckled. His whole body shook with excitement as he continued to thrust inside the other man. Each one drawing him closer, but he enjoyed watching as Coleman suffered right on the edge. “You’re going to be a good boy,” he said, then released inside the other man.
Coleman felt the wave hit his insides, then his own body thrust. Troy made sure to hold him up, riding the ride while Coleman rode it out. Eventually he went limp. Falling asleep from the massive amounts of changes.
“Is it done?” Jimmy asked. He stood in the doorway.
“Yep,” Troy answered.
“Good. And we know who he’s working for?”
“Not yet,” Troy said. Then tossed Coleman over his shoulder. Barely less inconvenient than a sack of potatoes. “He’ll tell us though. Just needs a bit of rest.” He paused, then answered before Jimmy could even ask. “And he’ll be ready for tonight. Just give him a bit of time to rest. Alright?” Jimmy nodded as Troy passed him.
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Today is my birthday and my Master gave me a present: a leather harness I get to use for him.
Because of course, my birthday is about him. That’s why he’s my Master and that’s why I’m his slave. What we’re celebrating today is the birthday of his favorite toy.
This is my present: a leather harness so I can look good for him, so I can turn him on and get him to fuck me. A leather harness from him, on me, for him.
When he orders me to take my shirt off and put the harness on it’s like I’m taking off my mind and putting on his thoughts. I stop thinking by myself. I feel how I become blank and submissive for him. My mind stops being mine.
I become a slave.
He stands in front of me and touches me, with the confident certainty that he’s taking something that belongs to him. And I do. We both know it. He can do whatever he wants with me.
He touches me and all I can do is stand and hold my hands behind my head and let him have his way with me. He smiles and touches me and then slowly takes his clothes off.
I get hard.
There are no words for the vision of perfection he paints in my mind when I’m in a trance for him. All I can do is want, and all I can want is him. He’s the focus of my desire, of my sex drive, of what’s left of my thoughts and my will.
He’s my everything.
And then when he touches me again and says our secret word, the rest of my mind disappears. I become his puppet, his toy, a mindless slave that exists only to serve him. I am, once again, fully his.
And then he makes me kneel down to suck his cock and I don’t even know what I feel or if I feel anything. He’s filling my awareness and ripping my mind to shreds, and all I can feel is him in front of me, doing with me what he wants, and it feels so right and so true that all I can do is surrender to the feeling and let him take me.
Happy birthday to me.
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Hey mate, hired a locker at the gym today and found an old supplement container called "MASS MONSTA" it promises to pack on extreme mass and dick size in a week but that's about where the English ends. Should I take a pill? Or more than one? Idk.
You of all people should know better than taking from places you don't know... but then again, with all of the impressive-looking men that have been appearing across the gym this summer, it makes sense that a new experimental supplement would be the source. Since there was little writing on the bottle, you decided to decant the remaining pills into an empty protein shaker and put the see-through, crumpled jar on the top of the lockers for the owner to find.
You looked down at yourself, thin in frame and barely making any progress day-in-day-out. You sighed, closed the door, locked it and headed to the gym for another mediocre session.
After finishing up your workout and returning to the changing rooms you found a hulk of a man pacing around the space, headphones still on and buzzing loudly with some noise. He grabbed the empty container and - somewhat threateningly - came up to you as you opened your locker. "You got anything to do with this, mate?" he almost shouted at you.
You saw the logo on his muscle tank and realised that he was probably a brand representative for the pills, likely on a constant supply himself, panicing about explaining why he lost them. A rush of confidence, or perhaps anger from the condescending way the meathead was talking to you, you decided to make something up - "Yeah, this old thing was left empty in my locker and I forgot to throw it in the bin... If that's what you mean?"
"Good, if you find out who took these pills, let me know. The manufacturer wouldn't want someone like you getting your hands on something this strong" he sneered, probably realising that wherever the pills had gone there was no way of getting them back - "two month's supply would cause some serious over-development on someone so weak". He left to go speak to security, or whatever attendant would be on the deskshift. You breathed a sigh of relief as the coast was clear but man was that guy a douchebag, you thought to yourself.
Opening the locker and looking at the protein bottle with the small handful of black shiny tablets at the bottom. The belittling words of the beefed-up promoter running through your head.
"I'll show him," you thought, as you tossed out three tablets, knocked them back, and shut the door with force.
Within 24 hours, the results of the tablets were clear. Bigger mass, bigger frame, and yes, even a bigger dick. What you didn't see - partly because you didn't read the strange language on the bottle (was it Russian, Chinese, or maybe something else..? it was far too hard to remember that now) and partly because of the extra dosage you were taking, were the mental effects that came along with it. While you were getting larger and larger by the day, what you didn't know was that prolonged exposure to the active ingredient would cause drastic reductions in self-discipline, control and restraint.
You popped another two tablets as you arrived back at the gym, ready to take your workout to the next level. You were lucky enough to find some spare large clothing in the lost property bin and didn't give two shits about the smell - "it'll be stinking of me in no time" you thought - before heading out to the main floor. "Fuck, this stuff hits better than any pre-workout I've ever heard of" you breathed to yourself as the loose shorts you grabbed from god knows where squeezed against the inside of your thighs and crotch, your head starting to pulsate with adrenaline.
Every rep of every set of your previous routine you demolished with ease. Sweat began dripping off your new beard and down towards your inflated chest, far beyond the realm of any post-workout pump, not from exhaustion but from the continued rate of energy you still had to burn off. As your eyes began to adjust back to reality as you caught your breath, you realised that the manager of the gym had been watching you the entire time.
"Looking good there, champ!"
"Uhh, thanks.. um, Coach." This was the first time you were speaking to him, but after having overheard so many other guys on the gym floor, you followed their lead.
"Looks like someone, or something got you fired up to take yourself to the next level, eh? Here -" He passed you a set of over-ear, wireless headphones, not dissimilar from the promotor you stole the tablets from. "Make sure you're doing the right routines to avoid burning out. Just hand them back to the front desk when you're done".
He smiled and gave you a heavy pat on your shoulder as he left. Perhaps he was confused about where your new mass had come from, or genuine to see your development, but either way, you brushed it off. Scrolling through the available workouts you took another two pills and connected to the Gym's database for a second round -
"STARTING PROGRAMME: GROW AND PUMP - LEVEL THREE"
Five days later you were almost the same size as the douchebag who cornered you in the locker. You flexed your arms in the locker room mirror after taking another three tablets, seemingly activating them to kickstart your boost of energy. Blood began pulsating through your head, the effects of the MASS MONSTA formula coursing through your body with each and every pill absorbed. Using the gym's noise-cancelling headphones seemed to be the only thing keeping you from going completely insane.
You found yourself acting on complete autopilot: 1 - Find gear, 2 - take tablets, 3 - plug in, 4 - follow orders.
"STARTING PROGRAMME: GROW AND PUMP - LEVEL FIVE"
Another smashed workout, another sweat-drenched muscle shirt to throw away into the gym's lost and found kit bin, and seven days of taking the tablets. You wiped the sweat away from your forehead and readjusted your sight, but the same pumping sensation remained. "What the fuck even was in these pills?" you thought, but it was far too late to undo the effects, not that you would even want to. You shook your protein bottle and realised that you were down to your last tablet. Fuck. How many of those things had you been taking?
Looking around to try to find the original promoter, you found out that they had been unsubscribed from the gym three days ago for 'malpractice' by Coach. Heart still pumping, filled with the effects of the tablets, you had to take matters into your own hands. You just needed to find out from him where the MASS MONSTA promoter went, or where the tablets even came from , right? Just needed to explain to Coach how good the tablets were for you to pump and grow, yeah. That's all. Gotta tell Coach that the MASS tablets were good. Coach needs to know you're a pump MONSTA and you gotta grow and get more tablets. YEAH. That's it. You gotta PUMP and GROW MASS, cuz Coach gotta be a MONSTA too. FUCK YEAH! Gotta PUMP and GROW with COACH!
Turning on without your control, the familiar buzz of the headphones whirred into action as you opened the door to Coach's office.
"STARTING PROGRAMME: GROW AND PUMP - LEVEL SEVEN"
"Fuck, Coach” you moaned as you removed your shirt and shorts “You gotta get me more of that MASS MONSTA, gotta PUMP… gotta GROW…" While taken entirely by surprise, it didn't take Coach too long to know exactly how to handle your hulking form. Perhaps this was his plan all along.
Impulses now fully on autopilot as the repetitive commands of the workout started thumping in your head, your entire body was acting on its own accord. "Gotta pump.. gotta grow.. gotta get big.." you thought in sync with the music.
Now almost double its original size, in proportion to your new body, all of your focus was going directly down to the needs of release of your hulking cock. No willpower, restraint or hesitation left, you continued pumping away. Whatever the active ingredient was in those tablets, it had to be expelled, one way or another...
——
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Definitely take some jockstraps that are there, and maybe a spare baseball cap that’s lying around
You should be wary about taking headgear - in these parts that’s a one way trip for some serious altercations. Nevertheless, as you headed towards the locker room you probably saw the three wrestlers leave the room in their skintight black singlets, laughing with each other about something like “joining the team”. You kept your head down, making sure not to make eye contact, walking into the locker room with your own gym bag in hand.
Inside the room was looking quite empty, with a few piles of leftover gear. You werent the only man in the locker room, starting to get busy with the evening crowd arrived from work. As you removed your clothing your eye kept being drawn over to the bench opposite you, where a small pile of gear was pushed aside - or perhaps left on display? You took your time, hoping that the room would clear out, and soon enough you were alone.
Walking over you saw a jockstrap, cap, hoody and socks. No likely owner, no gym bag or shirt hanging on the hooks — and no one would even think twice about it being taken by cleaning staff or whatever, right? You looked left and right over your shoulder, grabbed the lot, and shoved it into your bag. Your heart racing, you threw your kit bag into the locker, punched in the code and closed it.
Throughout your entire workout you tried to keep your head down and avoid eye contact with anyone. You hoped that, whoever the mysterious owner was, they wouldn’t cause a fuss. Either way, you couldn’t help survey the machines and let your mind guess who it belonged to.
You skipped the shower as you got home, and instead went immediately to grab the gear and change in your living room. The socks and jockstrap were no longer damp but still smelling of fresh use; the bright red hoody, far larger than your small yet muscular frame, smelled sweet and freshly worn, and comforting, and then you tried on the cap…
The moment you placed the cap onto your head your vision started to blur. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, but all you could focus on was your framed ass and how good it looked in the sweaty jockstrap. A uncontrollable urge began to come over you as the thoughts GIVE IN, LIFT BIG, GET BIG, GET DUMB started running though your head and your bulge started growing in the jock.
“Give in… lift big…” you muttered with every stoke, watching yourself in the full-length mirror “get big…. get dumb….”
Something in the back of your mind told you that as soon as you came, you would be changed forever - or at least as long as you wore that cap on your head - but your own voice murmuring the words made you realise how how good and sexy you look, how good it feels to be dumb, and how much you want this..
It’s been at least five months since you stole that gear from the gym, and no-one would even recognise you now. Of course, the former host of the cap knew exactly what was happening to you, not that you’d even be able to realise it yourself. These days you spend your days eating, lifting and bating away - giving in to every desire your body has, and you’ve never felt happier.