Controlling the Boy
|My reply was short and to the point. I outlined what I foresaw him to be – I
wanted him to become a huge fucking muscle freak – pure and simple. This would
involve manipulation of his body (and his mind – although he would not realise
this) using various techniques I had developed over the years. It would also
involve total commitment to full workouts in the gym. It would involve total
commintment to development of the body. I sent him this letter – he still
seemed keen (if not a little naïve of what was involved) and we agreed to meet.
Let the story begin.
When I saw him first, it has to be said, I was a little disappointed. He was slimmer than his photos suggested.
-Hello Boy, I wasn’t sure if you’d come.
-So are you ready for this? Do you realise what I want from you?
-Erm, yes, I guess so.
He seemed a little nervous. “I guess so” wasn’t the attitude I was after.
- Well let me make it clear boy. You will be turned into more than a freak. I am talking about 350-400 lbs of freaky lean muscle and giant enlarged cock and balls with 2-4" minature dicks for nipps. Once you have accepted this position of muscle stud slave there is no turning back. I will demand that you spend most of your time in the gym and when you are not in the gym you will be my personal escort, carrying out duties I require of you. Often training will involve certain punishing motivation techniques, which will drive you to the limit and beyond. If you do not achieved the size I require of you, we will do inplants to get those sizes. I also have some other techniques I will use to increase size. You will be displayed as my personal muscle dog slave, with minimal tight clothing, whenever necessary, to show off your freakiness to the max. Now tell me boy – are you ready for this?
He sat there unmoved for a minute or two, as if absorbing what I had said to him – taking it all in. I took the time to look him over again, he had a cute jock-ish face, and with a couple of hundred pounds of muscle on him, he would be fucking amazing.
-I am ready, Sir.
When we got back to my house, a modern private mansion in it’s own wooded grounds, I showed him his room, and the gym. It was well equipped, with nearly 1000lbs of free weights, various machines – some I had developed myself. He looked around with almost a passing curiosity – and again I wondered about his commitment. He was a quiet boy, reserved – and I could never really see what he was thinking. That would change soon enough.
Workout routines started fairly quickly. I got him to wear a tight pair of lycra shorts. He had a smooth body, slightly tanned. Good nipples too, but nothing what I had planned. His initial stats, 6'2, 190, 45c, 32w 17a 25q, were marked down on a wall chart. He would be measured every week, so we could monitor progress. I started him off on a week of easy work out – 4 day split, working pex /bis, shoulders /tris, back and legs. He took to it eagerly. During the second week, I asked him was he ready to start the new routine.
-Sir, yes Sir.
-Good boy. Now I want you to walk over to the bench press. Lie down. I’m gonna load up 250. Give me 8 reps.
He walked over and did as I ordered.
-Good boy. Now, another 100lbs on the bar. Repeat 8.
Despite his eagerness, he could only push 4.
-Boy, I ordered 8.
-I’m trying Sir.
- Let me explain – I order – you obey. Understand? Let me make this clearer. I am going to connect these electrodes to your balls. If you fail a rep – I will fry you.
He looked confused and worried as I set up the system.
-Now – EIGHT REPS
He pushed four out reps again, and failed on the fifth. I turned on the power.
-FUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK he roared
He pushed, 5, 6, roaring louder each time. I injected him with some serum – nothing special – just a booster. He pushed the 7. His face went red with effort, his veins in his arms pumping out, his whole body trembling with effort. I wanted to fuck him right there. He couldn’t make the 8. I turned off the power, and let him bench the bar.
-You have failed boy.
-I’m sorry master, I couldn’t.
-You will work out here until you can bench 8 350lbs.
He stood up. Despite his “failure”, his pex had pumped out. I measured him – they had pumped up two inches to 47. I made him lie back on the bench and flex his pex while I fucked the newly deepened cut in between.
The weeks went by. As well as increasing his body size, I attached weights to his cock and balls to increase their size. There was regular vacuuming to increase the size of his cock.
Every week, we had a flexing session, where I measured his stats. On the fourth week, I got some local pros to come down and take a look. The serum, the hard work and the encouragement were paying off. He had added 25lbs lean body weight. His pex had increased to 50, pumped. His bis were 19 and his quads – after some particularly horrendously hard workouts had pumped out to 31, nice and cut. But best of all, he was developing attitude.
- Well boy, why don’t you flex for us.
-Sure Sir, how’s this for a double bi. He pulled up his arms, and flexed them hard. I felt the young hard biceps – pumped up for my pleasure. He grinned, as he flexed – enjoying showing off his body.
-Oh yeah – fucking hard muscle man – I’m gonna be a fucking huge muscleboy stud.
I let him enjoy his moment. I enjoyed watching him, his bigger cock bulging in the tight leather thong he was wearing, his buff body preened and honed. In my mind I had the image of what I wanted him to be, and he was well on the way, but only beginning. After the posedown, we went out for a group fuck in the gym – each of us trying to out-muscle the other. Then I put his collar on, and we went out on the town to have some fun.
This collection was originally created as a compressed archive for personal offline viewing
and is not intended to be hosted online or presented in any commercial context.
Any webmaster choosing to host or mirror this archive online
does so at their sole discretion.
Archive Version 070326