Real Mens Journal Part 9

Real Men’s Journal Part 9

~December 11th~

The boy has returned to consciousness. As suspected, he was not pleased and proved to be rather disoriented. He appears to be far more susceptible to the subconscious commands we implanted now and is following the schedule fairly well. After a shower routine, he left in a dazed state to join the rest of his class at the mess hall. Coach Stone had a bit of fun with the subject after letting him meet with his former leader, Number 100. Files show his former name was Christopher Paulini. He now calls himself 100, or 100% Muscle. After he gave in, Number 100 progressed to be one of our best and “brightest” for his sheer will to obey and not think beyond our parameters. He has made a permanent home with us, here on the base, and is one of Coach Stone’s new favorites. The interaction and tests Coach Stone used were most enlightening, revealing that there must indeed be something unusual in the boy’s chemistry to allow him to resist, as shown by the return of subject’s genetalia to practically the same size. I will admit, the test was quite … provocative. I will discuss details with Coach Stone over recreation time at the staff gym. Perhaps during a treadmill run. I simply must get out there. If we can’t overcome the boy’s resistance, he may very well become immune before The Process is complete. Or perhaps I’m being paranoid. Either way, I need to de-stress. I will continue this log at a later time.

 ~December 12th~

Number 56 has fallen into trance again and is working out more regularly. As instructed, he listens to his files with his earbuds in and then returns to the gym to work out with support from 100 and 56’s hologram trainer, which has shifted to Coach Stone’s version. On top of being extremely fit, Coach Stone is also a surprisingly good programmer. He wrote the whole file for the boy’s personal use. I have recommended authorization to activate his other training components. Coach Stone said to wait a while longer. I attempted to disagree, but he convinced me. Coach Stone knows what he’s doing. I trust him.

 ~December 15th~

56 has woken up again and Coach Stone has deemed him ready for the measures I suggested. It appears he still faces trancing in the stalls of the bathroom and has even had a positive effect on some of the other trainees. Hopefully it’s only a matter of time now. Stone tells me he plans to earn the boy’s trust. How he plans to do so, I have no clue, but if he could convince me to let him take control, I’m sure he can convince 56 to trust him, too.

On a more personal note, I have filed a complaint with the head office, but still received no response. I have grown more used to the flickering buzz that comes from the lights, but it is still somewhat distracting to my work. I feel like I’m walking through a strobe-light sometimes. Coach Stone laughs and tells me the drones would love that. It’d be like a magazine photoshoot: perfect to pose in a frame by frame setting. Perhaps I should test that some time. They do listen to superiors and I am technically a superior. I never considered analyzing behavior after the changes were complete. Perhaps this might assist me in developing a method for those who demonstrate resistance like 56. I will consider this after my run with Coach Stone. We’re pushing three miles today.

 ~December 20th~

Subject 56 continues to resist, but it appears that he is weakening further. He has befriended three new recruits, the sons of the businessmen from our Industrial Retreat Program. We made them into industrial grade manual laborers and helped them to retreat from their worries and cares. Permanently. The results were quite interesting, to say the least. See files I.R.-666 through I.R.-668 for details.

56’s safeguards seem to be kicking in now. Based on the latest journal entry data, his subconscious is now blocking any attempts to delve too deeply into the idea of rebellion or the project itself. This has led to a certain amount of depression on his part, which has been made manifest in his video recordings, but he appears to still be keeping to regimen. We may very well break him soon. Excellent. Hopefully I’ll be able to break my own record for sit-ups today, too. Coach Stone bet me $200 dollars I’d fail. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when those bills enter my wallet.

 ~December 30th~

Number 56 is well on his way now. Even his dreams are working against him, or so his entries tell us. I must admit, the details he described would probably be arousing to many more if they read his narration. Watching and listening to him by night also shows he is falling into place. He listens to his recordings, repeats the trigger phrases regularly; all in all, I think my work here is done. Coach Stone has requested that I stay a while longer to see things through to the end, and if nothing else, then to give him a chance to win back his money. I admit, it pains me to leave. I’ve grown to like it here, and the atmosphere with these men is rather contagious. I still feel rather tired at times, but it’s a good kind of tired after a long day’s work. These coaches are almost as religious about their workouts as the drones are.

Speaking of coaches and drones, I notice that Coach Abrams seems to have gone missing. I hardly see him anymore. Anytime I try to say hello, he just grunts and continues on his way. What a curious alteration in behavior. He also appears to have packed on a few more pounds. I caught him once or twice measuring himself in front of a mirror. Coach Stone told me not to worry about it too much and that he’d take care of it. I trust Stone, so I’ll leave it in his hands.

 ~Personal Log: December 31st~

It appears I will be staying to the end after all. I just received orders from my superiors. They want me to make absolutely certain the boy, Subject 56, is completely converted to his new life before I return. I suppose I’ll be spending New Year’s Eve here with the coaches and other staff. For my resolution, I’ve been thinking of turning over a new leaf with my fitness. Having all this muscle around has made me want to build some of my own. Not that I haven’t made some gains over the last couple of months, but it never hurts to get better. I’ll discuss it with Coach Stone over drinks tonight at the party. He makes a mean cup of coffee, so I can’t wait to see what he can do with the other drinks.

 ~Personal Log: January 1st, 2017~

Oh, my aching head. Coach Stone really knows how to brew. I hardly remember what happened last night. We were laughing, I got a few solid thumps on the back. I … think I passed out or something. And Coach Abrams carried me in his arms. I think Coach Stone was with him. He said something, but I can’t remember what. Just a deep voice. Deep. And soft. I need a drink. These lights are doing a number on my skull right now. Maybe I’ll go on a run afterwards. Sweat off this hangover. Yeah. I should do that. 56 can wait. Stone says he’s almost won the boy’s trust, and I can’t work with this headache. I can work out though. Maybe just an hour.

 ~Doctor’s Log: January 10th, 2017~

Coach Stone has succeeded. And then some. The boy has begun to show signs of mental degradation, including memory loss and a more submissive and obedient nature. His last entry leaves me wondering where Coach Abrams may have gone, though. I haven’t seen him at all lately. Not even in the gym. I miss his presence. He helped me with my form on the weight bench. Coach Stone says not to worry and I’ll see Abrams again soon. I hope so. I liked watching him work out. Funny … I think I remember him in spandex? But coaches don’t wear spandex. Spandex is for the drones. It accents their muscles and stimulates further growth and circulation to their groin, causing their manhood to swell into a truly massive, manly bulge. There’s no going back after that. The subject is completely gone. But at least he’s happy by then.

 ~January 11th~

Number 56 is guzzling down protein shake after protein shake. He appears more dedicated to his work now and is starting to manifest more of a crude nature. It’s only a matter of time. Speaking of time, it’s time to meet Coach Stone in the gym again. Will report when new developments arise.

 ~January 13th~

Number 56 has begun the narcissus stage. He is looking at himself in mirrors and has begun to flex. At the end of his most recent entry, he has begun to use more crude language and focus on increasing size, especially his bulge. Subconscious commands alongside binaural sleep tracks are causing it to slowly grow larger each day. Soon the haze will begin to set in, followed by the euphoria. Coach Stone tells me he has a plan of some kind to determine how far their I.Q.s have dropped, but he wants to wait to put it into effect until later. He says he wants me to participate as well. I am most intrigued. Perhaps he will tell me more after our workout today. I always find myself in a better mood after a session with Coach Stone.

 ~January 18th~

Number 56 has made quite a bit of growth lately. He’s torn through his old set of clothing and was given a new set courtesy of Number 100. While it does cause the boy to appear smaller, he is merely entering a second stage in growth. The cursing is coming more naturally now, and he is beginning to find true pleasure in his increasing size. The haze has definitely come. He spoke specifically of fuzziness in his head. With the increase in muscle and testosterone has also come an increase in virility and a desire for dominance. He has grown more cocky and has developed a desire to show off, along with a persona that is slowly manifesting in the form of a cocky jock. The last portion of his entry left me rather … let’s just say it encourages a certain type of reaction in my system that I’m not entire certain that I like. It’s rather uncomfortable walking the halls and having everyone in the facility look at me with knowing smiles. It’s as if they’re all in on some joke while I’m stuck on the outside, and it makes me so angry!

Look, I need to work some of this aggression off. Before I hurt someone. I’ll be back later. After I work out.

 ~January 25th~

56 is obsessed with his size now and is taking actions to obey and follow orders. He is being rewarded accordingly by his body. The three other subjects he befriended are slowly joining him, well two of them were. The third required more pressing. We placed him in advanced conversion. Now he’s larger than 56 and obsessed with eating and muscle. His language centers have been heavily impacted, but the team mentality seems to have led to almost a pack type of situation where his fellows identify with how he feels and act accordingly. How curious.

56 will doubtless be ready for his test soon. Coach Stone tells me I’ve made great progress over the last month as well. It makes me glad to know I’ve found a place in this facility with people who are willing to talk with me and not judge when I’m dealing with man problems, you know? Though I admit I’m getting jealous of these kids. They’re growing so easily and I have to struggle for every inch I make. Perhaps I can work on a compound that doesn’t take away peoples’ brains. After I finish my workout with Stone though. Have to report to him.

 ~January 31st~

The boy is completely focused on obedience to his coach now. He didn’t even flinch after he made the connection to his last blackout, just that his coach needed him. And he’s right. His coach did. His coach will need him again before his changes are through. Need him to grow bigger. I wonder just how huge 56 will become. His resistance initially may well lead to him becoming one of the largest of all our candidates in the end. If his bulge is any indication, he’ll be a true giant. A pity he’ll have to become such an arrogant dick to go with it.

 ~February 5th~

Coach Stone has asked me to focus a little more on our workouts and dedicate further time to them. As fun as that may sound, I still have a duty to chart 56’s progress. Until his metamorphosis is complete, I have to chart every detail, every gain, every curl, every pump, every exercise. All of it. I have to do it. Just do it.  I have to do it. Do it. For my work(out).

Patient appears to be experiencing adverse effects as the enforcement triggers set in. When he thinks too much about what’s happening and his suspicion begins to grow, he experiences a mental block in the form of headaches and pain. 56 is growing much more compliant now. Soon he won’t be able to question orders at all, or anything for that matter. I’ll include an order to continue working out as much as he can in his recordings tonight, linking muscle mass and manhood size to the mental drain. Powerful subliminals.

Coach Stone and I have managed to create the ideal binaural for the boy. We tested it to be on the safe side. The effects were so potent, even Coach Stone and I felt dazed when we played it back. 56 won’t know what hit him. Instead, he’ll be hitting the weights himself like a man possessed. Speaking of which, I’d better get going. Stone is expecting me. Today we focus on squats and chin-ups. You know, where you pull up on the bar, strain the muscles, and build your upper body. Then after the workout, I have a date tonight with a lovely lady on the staff. The way things have been going for me lately, maybe I’ll get lucky tonight. A guy can dream.

 ~February 8th~

The date was amazing. We ate at a famous health restaurant she knows. The food was great, the music was relaxing, and the woman was beautiful. I can’t really remember what we talked about, but I know it was good. I woke up this morning and I still felt the buzz in my head. What a woman. Just thinking about her makes me dizzy … and I’ll admit a little aroused. Coach Stone just laughed and said he was glad I had it in me. Told me it’s good to just let things go sometimes. I’ll admit, a pleasant feeling does seem to be filling up my crotch this way. Coach Stone laughed at that too and simply said “welcome to manhood, rookie.” You know, I think I rather like the nickname.

ACCESSING SUBJECT #56 JOURNAL

~DAY???~

Posed in front of the mirror today. Damn I look good. Stripped down to my JOCK and just sorta let it flow, ya know? The more I FLEX, the BIGGER I feel. My muscles feel like a fucking powerhouse. The more I think about it, the better I feel and the easier it is just to BLANK OUT. Big muscles, big body, big dick, big bulge. Life’s good. And every time I show off, more people go to the bathroom. The more they go in there, the more they start to sound like me. And the more they sound like me, the better I feel. Like a real role model, ya know?

Coach says he’s proud of me. That makes me smile. Makes me feel like a man. He calls me Ky instead of Kyle, but I don’t mind too much. Kyle was for the old me, anyways. I’m bigger now. Better. Bigger is better. Buffer is tougher. I’m actually looking forward to working out now. I still think about home, but it’s not so bad as it used to be. I don’t worry too much about school anymore. I mean, I was kidnapped, right? So when they find me, they won’t try to make me do all that work at once, right? Right? I’ll just pick up on school after I finish here. No big deal. Well, I guess it is a BIG deal. For me. I stay. Listen to coach. Obey coach. Get HUGE!

Little Clark’s been gettin’ into it, too, ever since I hauled his ass to the showers. Little pansy stopped wearing his glasses, started acting like a REAL man. Turning into a real Super Man. See what I did there? Earned his JOCK strap today. The clothes make the man. That’s what coach says. And a fucking massive JOCK strap makes for a fucking massive, manly bulge. Huhuh, got so excited I shredded my sleeve. Gonna have to put a silencer on these guns. Voice has been cracking a lot, but Coach says by tonight it’ll be nice n’ deep, just the way I like it. So I can grunt like a real man as I PUSH my muscles to the max. Just gotta plug in my headphones and LISTEN to COACH. Sleep and LISTEN. OBEY.

SCAN. OBEY.

FLEX. OBEY.

LIFT. OBEY.

GROW. OBEY.

CONFORM. OBEY.

I LISTEN. I OBEY.

Yes, COACH.

BRAWN. OBEY.

BIGGER MUSCLE.

MUSCLE IN MY HEAD.

Yes, sir, COACH.

56. PUMP MUSCLE in my HEAD.

I OBEY. 56 OBEYS.

MUSCLE in HEAD.

Just MUSCLE.

MUSCLE HEAD.

YES, SIR. Just a MUSCLEHEAD.

BIG. DUMB. MUSCLE. OBEY. JOCK. FLEX. BRAWN. OBEY. MASSIVE. MANLY. BULGE. OBEY. MUSCLE is MEAT. MUSCLEHEAD is MEATHEAD. I’m a MUSCLEHEAD. So I’m a MEATHEAD. I OBEY. Yes, sir, COACH. Want to be a JOCK. Your JOCK. OBEY. I OBEY. BIG JOCK. DUMB JOCK. FOOTBALL JOCK … football jock? Wait … what’m I …?  Dude, what the hell? Coach? I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU, MAN! Well, FUCK YOU!

Fuck, why’d I have to be so damned stupid?

So stupid. Head’s all fuzzy. I … I gotta sleep. Sleep this off. Yeah. See you later.

Real Men’s Journal: Part 6

~DAY ???~

           I … I don’t know what happened. I just sort of blacked out. And my last journal response … What the hell? Have they been hypnotizing me in my sleep or something? The quarters are full again, but … I don’t recognize anyone. My head is killing me. And I feel … heavier. My damn tablet won’t show me the date. Thanks again, Dick and Tracy, you dimwits. I wonder where Kevin is and how he’s doing. And Chris. He’s the one responsible for me being in this mess in the first place.

           Just got scanned. Damn, I lost that much weight already? And … wow, I’m taller too. But that’d mean I’ve been here for months. I’d have to have been. I mean, if I came back out of that stupor or whatever it was, then the chemical or whatever it is they’re using can’t have worked on me the same way it did the others, right? Crap, who cares? I just need to find a way out of here. And I need to um … take care of some business. I’ll uh … be right back.

           …

           Man that felt good. Nice shower. Real nice. … And stuff. I’m kinda worried. My junk looks a little bigger. Is it a natural effect from puberty? Or is it this process? And … where are all the newcomers? Place looks empty. Guess I’ll go look for em.

           … Damn, it’s a whole new class. I’m eating breakfast in the hall right now. There was a whole escort surrounding them. And I saw one wearing 100 on his back. Here’s the recording. Decided to try the video. You know, to mix things up a little. Recordings are a bit boring sometimes. You can see it when you want.

           ~ACCESSING # 56 VIDEO FILE 001~

           A large adult in his late twenties stares out with spiked raven-black hair. His uniform is a black spandex two-piece and strains against his bulging muscles with a 100 over the left pec. A bony, square jaw juts out as he scratches himself down below. His eyes are a cloddish brown with thick, lumpish eyebrows shadowing them. They’re practically simian. He seems to just stare off into space as he keeps a firm grip on a young boy with red hair and freckles. The boy is highly obese and his eyes are a bright green. He looks rather sad.

           “Chris? Chris, is that you?”

           The big man looks over with his thick muck eyes, a confused look on his face. He stretches his free large arm. As he does so, he flexes a bicep as big as a football. The camera pans down to reveal a heavy set of legs and a straining bulge that is clearly visible inside the jockstrap that must be beneath the material. The camera freezes there for a time before going down to the feet where a heavy set of cleats shows massive feet, digging into the earth and leaving imprints behind as the line moves forward. Then it pans back up to the man and his furrowed brow.

           “’Sup, bro? You uh … lookin’ for someone?”

           “Chris, it’s me, Kyle.” The camera rushes up and the lens is zoomed onto the left pec, showing nothing but the big zero at the end of the number and the black in its middle. The flesh is straining against the fabric, leaving a tight imprint.

           “Dude, seriously, too close for comfort. Back up, bro. I got a kid to watch.”

           “Chris, come on. This isn’t funny.”

           “I look like I’m laughin, kid? Back up, seriously. I’m not … Groan … not Chris. Qu-quit screwin’ with me.”

           “Chris—WOAH!” The camera is suddenly shoved violently back as it shakes and the sound of hitting ground and scraping dirt is heard as the lens shakes at the sky. Then it’s readjusted to face the musclehead again, who’s heaving now.

           “I’m NOT Chris! I’m fuckin’ Heavy 100% muscle, got it, ya pussy? Go play with your toy. Let the real men do the work ‘round here. Fuckin’ lightweight. I’m a massive manly man with a massive manly bulge n’ that’s all I’ll ever be. Now buzz off!”

           “Is there a problem here, 100?” The camera turns to face an even larger man with a closely shaved blonde crewcut. His coach’s shirt hugs tightly to his chest and his dark blue eyes burn. “Well well, what have we here?” he sneered. “It’s you, is it? The troublemaker who messed with my 86? Hmmmm … not bad. Lost some weight, have we? Gotten a little muscle? It looks … nice.” He smirked.

           “I … Groan Th--thank you …”

           “No need to thank me. I’m just here to … chaperone.” He looked at the camera, then his face turned up towards a space ahead. It turned hungry as his eyes went up and down. “Hmmm … yes. Not too bad at all. Needs some … training though.”

           “Sir?” The big man holding the boy spoke up. “He makes my head hurt.”

           “Don’t worry, 100, just think about all those weights waiting for you once the escort is done. And that massive, manly bulge of yours you’re so fond of.”

           “Massive, manly bulge. My massive, manly bulge.” He chuckled and flexed an arm, shuddering in pleasure. The chant was soon taken up by the other men in the line.

           “Massive, manly bulge. Massive, manly bulge. We’ll grow and stretch and lift and swell with our massive, manly bulge…”

“Hey, q-quit it. That’s not … you’re not …” The screen begins to tremble as it turns to face 100. “S-stop it. This isn’t … my … feel funny.” The camera turns to a sneering coach.

“Here, boy, let me take that off your hands, hmm? You look like you’re about ready to drop it.” He chuckles as he reaches for it with his big, meaty hands. The lens is then turned to face a tall boy with a good average build. His loose shorts and shirt hang limply, but his arms look well-toned. His eyes are a light, cool blue as he clutches at his brown hair.

“Give that back. Give … give … M-meeee …. That … i-it’s my—my—mmmmmassive … so … massive.” He shudders and suddenly his eyes look more dense and a dimwitted smile comes across his face while he looks at the larger muscle-men with sheer adoration.

“That’s the spirit. What do you have to say to me now, eh, boy?”

“Wanna be a big boy. Wanna be a good boy. Big boys grow into big men.” He smiles.

“And big men have what?”

“Big muscles.”

“And what else?” The boy’s face widens to a grin. “A massive, manly bulge.” The camera pans down to his shorts where a small bump pushes.

“And good boys grow into big boys, don’t they?”

“Grow big. Grow massive. Massive, manly bulge. Massive, manly bulge. Wanna be a massive, manly man with a massive, manly bulge.” The bump grew slowly bigger.

“And what’s inside that bulge?”

“Huhuh-HU-h,” his voice cracked. “My … uh … my penis.”

“Your what?”

“You know … my privates. My massive, manly bulge.”

“Just call it what it is, son,” the voice sighed.

“Uhhh … I thought I did?” the bulge starts to shrink.

“Sigh, Just keep going, alright, boy? Follow the program. Listen to the recordings. I’ll be in touch.”

“Yes, sir. Massive, manly bulge. Massive, manly bulge. Work out, be big, be buff, be swole, with my massive, manly bulge.” The bump grows again as he repeats the chant. When the men begin to stop, the boy follows with them and the bulge shrinks, but not as much.

“Take this, son. I’ll be seeing you later, mark my words.” The lens is covered by a palm and there is the sound of shifting air and the smack of the cover closing.

“Ugh … what happened?”

END TRANSMISSION

So uh … yeah. I guess that guy wasn’t Chris. He’d never have done something like shove me back or anything like that. I see him piling up his plate. Lots of eggs, sausage, and bacon. Guess you gotta have the protein to build that muscle. And when you’re their size, you must need a lot just to keep things the same. Found out the coach’s name was Stone. Guess that fits. He’s built like a freakin’ rock. Biggest mountain of muscle I’ve ever seen. The things I could do if I were built like that … but never mind. He’s kinda been eying me since I started breakfast and it’s really creeping me out. I’m not some slab of meathead … meathead … meathead. Gah! I can’t even write it properly!

But on the other hand, I have to admit, this food is still just as good, if not better. Everyone’s looking at me all funny, actually. The kids look scared and the meatheads, they look … eager. I’m a little scared of what’s going to happen. I blacked out again, and I feel horny as hell. It’s too soon. I shouldn’t, but I do. And I feel … Idunno, more snug down there, if you catch my drift. Whatever they’re doing to me must be accelerating. I have to find a way to fight back, to reverse this somehow. And … the others! I can warn them! I just … need to do … something else first …

 ~DAY ???~

The hell? I just woke up to my headphones plugged in my ears listening to some damn hypnosis file! Augh! What is wrong with me?! I feel like I want to punch something. And the way I am right now, I could probably leave a pretty good mark, too. I just hope I was able to warn those poor fellahs. Probably better check on them. It sounds like a few are in the showers. Maybe I’ll have a talk with them … after I take care of some pressing business. In the showers. In stall 56. In my stall. Yeah …

…

ACCESSING # 56 SESSION ASSESSMENT:

SUBJECT RESPONSE RATE:  65%

SUBJECT PROGRESS:  Minimal

SUBJECT RANK:  Beginner

REMOTE ACCESS REQUEST RECEIVED:  INPUT PASSCODE

*******_*****_*****

PROCESSING REQUEST …

PASSCODE ACCEPTED:  WELCOME, USER STONE.

PLEASE ENTER COMMAND:  ___ ACCESS RECORDING

CONFIRMED:  PLEASE SELECT RECORDING TYPE

1.     SUBJECT 56 PERSONAL AUDIO MP.3

2.     SUBJECT 56 PERSONAL VIDEO

3.     SUBJECT 56 PROGRESS VIDEO

CONFIRMED:  LOADING SUBJECT 56 PROGRESS VIDEO LIST

SELECT VIDO

ACCESSING VIDEO FILE 5

           “You’re doing it wrong, kid.” A green hologram the size of a human stands to the right. It’s as large as Stone was, but this one has slightly longer hair. “Tuck those arms in. That’s it. You’re not a chicken, so don’t flap.”

           “Yes, coach.” The brown haired youth from before is working at a press designed to work the pectorals and the inner arm muscles. He’s a sweaty mess, but looks eager enough as he works to press again. The camera zooms in on the weight and reads it at one hundred pounds before zooming out.

“Good. Now that’s proper form. Keep that up and try to make a set of ten, alright, Kyle?” The boy does so slowly and the hologram smiles “Excellent. Keep that up and you’ll be ready to progress in no time.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You want to progress.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You love the burn as you work out.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then keep going.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And when you’re finished here, get back to your recordings. You have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yes, sir, coach.”

100 walks up and hands a protein shake to the boy after he finishes his set.

“Drink. It’ll make ya swole like me.” 100 sneered as the boy finished his set and began to down the shake.

“Gotta get swole,” Kyle murmured between sips.

“Good boy,” the hologram said. “Just keep focusing on building those muscles, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You only care about your muscles.”

“Yes, sir.”

           “Bigger Muscles. Bigger bulge. Bigger you. Everything else doesn’t matter.”

           “Bigger is better,” 100 boomed.

           “Buffer is tougher,” Kyle droned.

           “Good boy. Grow that massive, manly bulge,” the hologram said. Kyle shuddered, smiled, dropped his empty plastic shake cup on the ground and immediately went back to work.

           INSTRUCTION:  END RECORDING:  ACCCESS ADMINISTRATIVE SETTINGS:  HYPNOSIS

           END TRANSMISSION

           ACCESSING ADMINISTRATIVE SETTINGS:

           HYPNOSIS:

           SELECT PREFERENCE:

1.     HYPNOTIC SUGGESTIONS                  ON

2.     SUBLIMINAL MESSAGING                 ON

3.     POSTHYPNOTIC TRIGGERS                ON

4.     POSTHYPNOTIC SUGGESTIONS        OFF—ON

5.     BINAURAL BEATS                                OFF—ON

6.     MEATHEAD CONVERTER                   OFF—ON

7.     SCANNER AMPLIFICATION                OFF—ON

8.     DUMB JOCK.MP3                                  OFF—ON

9.     SPORTS CRAZE.MP3                             OFF—ON

10.  MUSCLE CRAVE.MP3                           OFF—ON

11.  GYM OBSESSED.MP3                           OFF—ON

12.  BODYBUILDER.MP3                             OFF—ON

13.  JOCK WALK.MP3                                   OFF—ON

14.  JOCK TALK.MP3                                    OFF—ON

15.  LANGUAGE.MP3                                    OFF—ON

16.  CRUDE DUDE.MP3                                OFF—ON

17.  BROAN OVA BRAYNES.MP3              OFF—ON

18.  DIMWIT.MP3                                          OFF—ON

19.  SCREW SCHOOL.MP3                           OFF—ON

20.  MANLYBULGE.MP3                              ON

21.  BIG COCK=DUMB JOCK.MP3             OFF—ON

22.  NARCISSUS.MP3                                    OFF—ON

23.  UNITY.MP3                                             OFF—ON

24.  ARROGANCE.MP3                                 OFF—ON

25.  BLOWHARD.MP3                                   OFF—ON

26.  BULKY BULLY.MP3                              OFF—ON

27.  RESPECT&OBEY.MP3                          OFF—ON

28.  TEAM PLAYER.MP3                              OFF—ON

29.  ONE OF US.MP3                                     OFF—ON

30.  NEVER GOING BACK.MP3                  OFF—ON

 LINK SCANNER TO CONVERTER?

 YES/NO

           SAVE CHANGES AND AUTHORIZATIONS?

                       YES/NO

           SAVING … SAVING … SAVING … CHANGES SAVED. REINITIALIZING.

           SYSTEM RESTART. ADMINISTRATOR LOG OUT.

           REBOOTING SYSTEM.

~DAY ???~

Damnit, I had to start a new entry. Guess I took too long at the showers. On the plus side, I think the others know now. So that’s the good news. And that shower was so good, too. I really needed to relieve myself in there. You know, stress and all that. Man, it just helped me to RELAX so much. I should shower more often. Anyways, it’s lights out time now, so I’ll write again later. Night.

 ~DAY???~

           Woke up this morning for the first time in ages without a headache. It’s so great! The newbies seem to be going through some of the symptoms I was facing, but overall, they’re adjusting alright. Went and said hi to the guys from the showers. I uh … couldn’t really remember their names, but they didn’t seem to mind. They said they were picked up at a gym their fathers went to.

Based on what they told me, their dads must’ve been through The Process already. Most of them had high-end jobs until about a year ago. They left on a supposed retreat and when they came back, they were ripped and muscle-driven. Ever since then, they sort of let their old jobs slide and started working out at the gym instead. To make ends meet, they became personal trainers. They certainly had no lack of customers after showing off just how swole-errr, big, they’d gotten. The kids and their mothers were more than a little concerned for the men with such a drastic change, but there wasn’t much they could do about it. As a father-son activity, their dads brought them to their recreational gym to work out together. For a bunch of muscleheads, they were surprisingly logical about the whole thing. To avoid any issues of work getting in the way, each had chosen a gym they didn’t work at to get a membership with:  one of those newer chains that’ve been popping up lately. Muscle Hustle? Muscle Fever? Muscle Lift? Muscle … muscle … ah to hell with it, I can’t remember and I really don’t care all that much. A gym’s a gym. You work out, get sweaty, bulk up, and get swole through mindless activity where you just BLANK OUT, then WORK OUT, then JOCK OUT. The rest was history. The boys blacked out when they were getting into their gym clothes and they woke up here with me. They were kinda scared of me after some stuff that happened at the cafeteria and the gym. They didn’t want to talk about it much, but I got past that eventually. Their names are Josh, Cooper, and Trent. Nice guys, actually.

They’re planning on going places with jobs like their dads used to have. Computer programming, Business Management, Typists, you know, stuff like that. You know, for supposed nerds, these guys actually aren’t that bad off. They’re fairly average in build and it looks like they’re pretty fit already. I wonder why they were taken in the first place. Most other targets were picked for being flabby, lazy, and addicted to junk food. This batch looks more … diverse. Aaaaand there’s the headache again. Great, just great. Guess it was too much to hope for just one FUCKING DAY where I don’t have to deal with this FUCKING MIGRAINE! Screw this! I’m goin’ to bed.

 ~DAY ???~

           ACCESSING # 56 VIDEO FILE 002

           Weights are clanking in the background as Kyle focuses on leg lifts using a weight machine. His arms are crossed over his chest and he continues to push, breathing heavily and grunting regularly.

           “Hey. So, uh, I guess you’re wondering why I’m recording and working out. Turns out when I lift, my headache does too. See what I did there?” He laughs. “But seriously, it’s actually not all that bad. I’m not so sore anymore, and I have more energy now that I ever did before. It’s weird. I expected to collapse by now from an asthma attack, but it’s not coming. I wonder if that chemical changed my lungs. If it did, I guess that’s one thing to be grateful for. Remind me to ask Coach Stone later. Turns out he’s taken over my case after all. Either he overlooked that assignment function, or he deliberately wants me to know. I guess I’m what’s considered a stubborn case, and that’s what Stone deals with on a regular basis.

           “So yeah … the week’s been going pretty good. My body’s metabolism is through the roof and I’m eating as much as a food disposal. Seriously, I feel like my stomach’s never going to get enough at this rate.” He pauses to wipe a towel over his forehead and face as a loud gurgling emanates from his stomach. A big muscle man with a large 100 blazoned on the back of his shirt and another smaller one on his left pec smiles as he approaches, entering the camera’s range.

           “’Sup, little man?” he chuckled.

           “Hey 100, sorry about the mixup before. You just really made me think of my old friend, Chris, ya know? Well … a bigger, swoler version of him anyways.”

           “S’cool, lil’bro, don’t worry about it.” The big man looks impressed as he views the weight count. “150 already? Damn, bro. Took me two fuckin’ weeks ta get there.” He hands Kyle a plastic cup filled with a brown protein shake.

           Kyle shrugs. “Guess I just never knew my strengths is all. Couldn’t really do working out before. Every time I’d start, I couldn’t breathe.”

           “You’re shitting me.”

           Kyle takes a long draught from the cup, emptying it about half way in one go. “Nah, man, it’s true. I’m an asthmatic.”

           “A what?”

           “I have asthma. It’s a disease you’re born with, makes it so you have smaller air passageways in your lungs and they swell when you work out or run. Sometimes they block up even when you’re doing nothing. It sucks.” He takes another swig.

           “But you’re okay now?”

           “Yeah, I guess. Don’t know why though. It’s like I never had it. I’d be ecstatic if I didn’t know you people are trying to brainwash me.”

           100 flinched.

           “Don’t worry, I’m not holding it against you, big guy. It’s the coaches I’m mad at.”

           100 smiled, then frowned. “But Coach is just tryin’ ta help.”

           “By keeping me prisoner?”

           “By trainin’ ya. You know, with the holograms n’ shit. Help ya get swole.”

           “Look, 100, I’m glad to be getting more fit, I really am. But the fact that I was kidnapped from my home, my family, my friends, isn’t exactly going to disappear anytime soon. And no amount of working out, bulking up, getting swole, or getting a—” He broke off as if remembering something as his eyes widened. He cleared his throat. “--Getting more junk in the trunk, will change how I feel about that. I want to go home. I’ve wanted that ever since I got here. My parents are probably worried sick right now.” He sighed, deflating as he slumped on the bench of the machine. “And thanks to those dickwadds, Tracey and Dick, I can’t even tell how much time has gone by since I was taken.” He took another sip from the shake before swirling it around in his hand as he watched the viscous substance turn into a sludgy whirlpool.

           “They’ll let ya go back, ya know,” 100 said. “They give ya a choice when you graduate. Hell, you can even come back n’ work part time. Be a mentor, ya know?”

           “We don’t even know where the hell we are!” Kyle threw his cup on the ground, sending shake all over the floor. 100 sighed as he moved to pick it up.

           “Don’t need to know, lil’bro. Ya just gotta grow. Listen, I’ll leave ya to yourself for a while, okay?” He placed a giant hand on Kyle’s shoulder, then walked off. Kyle just put his head in his hands and sobbed.

           “It’s happening, isn’t it? They’re really getting to me.” Then he broke down completely.

           END TRANSMISSION

Real Men’s Journal: Part 4

~Day 15~

           Our numbers are beginning to thin. Whatever’s been happening in our barracks, it’s spreading. I’m getting worried. They’ve started placing protein shakes by some of the beds in the morning for our heavy lifters to drink.

           “Gotta get my protein,” they keep saying. “Gotta bulk up, ya know? Relax, bro.” How can I relax when all these men are being brainwashed and they don’t even realize it? I warned the others who were left about what’s going on. Chris, our defacto leader, furrowed his brows, and many others didn’t want to believe me. They did after they went to the showers tonight. We’ve been trying to do mental games and things like that to keep our minds sharp and focused, but I’m worried for a couple of members:  senior level chess champions. They had a taste of whatever it is, I assume subliminals of some kind. Dick and Tracy, twin brothers. They’re both a little on the short and fat side, but you’ll never find a better opponent for such a strategic game. They were scratching in places that are better scratched in private, if you know what I mean. When confronted about it, they just said they itched and everyone else was doing it anyways, so it’s not like it mattered. It’s the eyes that worry me though. I thought I saw something wriggling way in the back. Something slow.

 ~Day 19~

           I’ve brought my concerns to Chris. He’s a lot like me, only taller and a little rounder. He’s got a good head of black hair that now hangs around his face like bangs. He normally would have styled it, but with everything going on here, he didn’t see much point. I’d say the guy is around six feet or so, like I said, husky build. He’s the head of some big company from what he told me. So he’s basically what I aspire to be, minus the massive pudge. His eyes burn when he chooses to glare at someone. That golden brown can be scary sometimes. Fortunately, that glare wasn’t directed at me today. He actually agreed with me.

           The twins themselves seem to have gotten worse. They act a little more distant now. When we eat our meals, they’re torn between who to sit with. They’ve made it a habit to scan themselves regularly and I notice the pair has started to put on some weight, the muscly kind. They swear up and down they’re not listening to the recordings, but still …

 ~Day 22~

           Dick and Tracy lost today … twelve consecutive times. When we left from our minimal workout requirements, usually just a once around the track at as slow a pace as we can manage, the twins stayed behind. Then later tonight, when we had our tournament, they just sort of moved their pieces wherever, their legs spread out on the chair as they leaned back. It was completely random, almost as if they didn’t care. And trust me, if you’d seen them when they first started here, you’d know that’s not normal. Once they’d lost for the final time, the pair just left and walked off. The way they splayed their legs though, that pose, that swagger … it didn’t look good. And did those two look a little taller? Crap, it’s lights out again. I’ll write tomorrow.

 ~Day 23~

           It’s official. Dick and Tracy have turned to the dark side. I woke up in the middle of the night and looked over to their beds. Then it hit me:  the chorus of mumbling. I didn’t make it out at first, but then it became clearer. My heart raced. I could hear their mattresses creaking and straining. I crept my way to their beds and there they were, flexing their muscles, their tablets glowing in their stands to highlight their bodies. Two wires sprouted from each of their ears, converging on the devices.

           “Yes, coach. I listen. I obey. Good not to think. Just grow. Like to work out. Love to work out. Love to sweat. Sweat it all out. Get big. Get swole. Sports rule. Massive. Yes, sir. Trigger. Will join whenever said. Fall deeper. Want a massive, manly bulge. I want a massive manly bulge. Want to be a big, dumb jock with a massive, manly bulge...” They spoke in unison and started to chant, just like in the bathroom with the others. And soon more joined in a whispering chorus. Even in their sleep they’re programmed to react. You can guess the rest. This is seriously scaring me. And the worst part is we’re trapped in this nightmare until they see to let us go or to force us to become … that.

           By morning, the two were swearing up a storm, slapping each other on the butt and calling everyone Bro while entering poses. We lost two good men. I’ve been avoiding them like the plague. So’s everyone else, though a few poor souls have been staying with them, doubtless trying to bring back the old Dick and Tracy. The twins took them to the bathroom and I heard the TVs running. I shook my head and checked off another couple names. I’d give those kids three days before they give in.

 ~Day 26~

           That gas must be hallucinogenic. It has to be. What I just saw can’t be real. I was just minding my business, deciding to try an audio recording since I had the barracks to myself and then … well, take a listen. I’ll insert my own commentary in the recording as a voice over in the file for how I felt and reacted at the time.

           ACCESSING # 56 AUDIO FILE 004

           Damn, what the hell are they feeding these guys? Are they pumping steroids or something? Dick and Tracy are growing far too quickly. By the time they were out of the barracks for another day of work, they’d gained a solid twenty pounds of muscle and they were growing taller by the day.  The number of times they’d scan themselves, you’d think they were afraid of not gaining. And every time, that stupid blue flash. It’s so annoying! It doesn’t help any with the two of them always showing off. They’re getting cruder by the day. I wouldn’t be surprised if they started jutting their brows out soon and hooting like monkeys.

           “You hear that, Bro? I think Kyle here’s tryin’ to insult us.”

           “I think you’re right. What’re we gonna do about it, Trace?”

           “Dunno, Dick. After all, a coupl’a animals like us can’t reach his level.”

           “Hey, give that back!”

           “What’s this? A diary?” *chuckling* “Fucking pansy. Hey, Dick, get a load of this.”

           *Air whistles through the mike*

           “Sweet! Let’s look at his stats.”

           “Give it back, Dick.”

           “Phew, you’re seriously still at the beginning? Dude, why’re you being such a newb?”

           “I dunno, why’re you being a couple of jackasses?”

           “Says the man who called us monkeys.”

           *Loud Ripping*

           “Well how do ya like them bananas, huh? I can rip my fuckin’ sleeve with a bicep. Can you do that?”

           “I can actually play chess. Can you do that?”

           “Chess is for losers. Football’s where it’s at.”

           “Yeah … football. Football’s the greatest.”

           “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

           “… Everything.”

           “But we’ll be better soon—”

           “—With coach’s help.”

           “Gotta get swole with a massive, manly bulge.”

           “What the hell, guys?!” (They were starting to pose and flex and … well, look, they were sporting erections, okay? And shoving them around like they should be proud of them. I may be a teen, but I have my standards. I was kinda getting worried for my tablet, but Dick the dick managed to hang on to it. See what I did there? He kept on flexing with his brother and chanting and then some of the others walked in. I watched as one of them went rigid and his two friends looked on in concern.)

           “Chad? Chad, are you alright?” (The red head on the left asked. I watched as the one called Chad broke into a smile as the brightness in his eyes dimmed.)

           “I … I’m uh … yeah, fine. Just … fine.” (He was practically drooling as he watched Dick and Tracy. The longer he stood there and the more he listened, the dimmer his eyes became.) “They’re so big, aren’t they?” (he remarked dreamily as he stared at the twins.)

           “Well yeah, they’ve been following the program, remember? Working out … getting … swole?” (the blonde one to his right asked. He blinked a few times and shook his head. I’m actually surprised my mike caught this. This thing must have some seriously good reception. Meanwhile, the twins were still at it with their stupid chant. You can hear it loudest in this thing, of course.)

           “They’re just being a bunch of showoffs, Chad. Come on. Let’s hit the showers.” (The red one said as he grabbed Chad’s shoulder.)

           “I … I think I’ll hang around a while longer, Ryan. I … wanna watch.” (The twins smirked here and broke off their chant as they finally realized they had an audience.)

           “Like what you see?” (Dick asked as he flexed a meaty bicep.)

           “Bet you wish you had a dick like mine. Chuckle.” (Tracy patted his bulge and went back to posing.)

           “Work out just like us, follow the program just like us, and you’ll be just like us.”

           “Just like us.” (Tracy echoed his brother as they mirrored one another in their sets before breaking up into more meatheaded laughter.)

           “With a massive, manly bulge.” (This time it was Dick who patted, well, his dick. Then he shuddered as he looked at his brother with those same murky eyes. Tracy returned the favor.)

           “Gotta bulk up. Gotta get swole. Become with your massive, manly bulge.” (The two went back into their muscle show as they returned to the mantra once again of “massive, manly bulge.” They were practically spewing their brains out with every line.)

           “Come on, guys, this is creeping me out.” (Ryan said this as he turned away from the display. His cheeks were flushed.)

           “But … look at them.” (Chad said.) “So … huge.” (He stood there like a statue, his eyes locked on the twins.)

           “I agree with Ryan, Chad. This has … uh … gotten a little … strange. Even if they are kinda big … and buff … and … strong …” (Even as the blondie moved to follow Ryan, he still looked back, almost longingly. His steps slowed and he swayed on his feet.)

           “Chris, Chad, come on. Let’s get to the showers. We’re missing the game.” (Ryan urged, though fear flickered on his face.)

           “So bulky … and bulgy.” (Chad was long gone, his voice distant as he stared, flushed. A small bump pushed against his shorts as the muscleheads continued to repeat.)

           “Chad … this isn’t … it’s not … we have to … to watch the. …the game. Watch … Uh … watch … the game with … players.” (Even as Chris protested, he walked away from Ryan and the showers to stand next to Chad.)

           “Bulge … bigger … buffer … so huge…” (That rip you just heard was the other twin’s sleeves breaking. With an audience like this, the twins have grown more bold … and more stupid.)

           “Huge players … manly … crashing … smashing … bulging … bashing … posing … flexing … just … like … them …”

           “… Just like them.” (Chad echoed Chris as they eyed the pair of nerds turned jocks. They were both gone now.)

           “Chad? Chris?” (Ryan approached them tentatively and tapped them on their shoulders.) “Guys, this isn’t funny.” (I watched the pair spasm as they resolutely kept eye on Dick and Tracey. Soon their lips twitched, then they slowly pulled into dimwitted smiles. They parted their legs into a wide stance and started to mimic Tracey and Dick, posing and straining in their clothes. It was kindof cute in its own way. If it weren’t so pathetic and creepy, I might have laughed. But this was serious. They were basically flexing their brains away.)

           “Work out … just like us …” (Chad said.)

           “Follow the program … just like us …” (Chris said)

           “Be just like us. Yes. Be just like them …Wanna be … just like them.” (The pair said together.)

           “Guys, come on. This isn’t funny.”

           “Just like us … just like them … BE just like us … BE just like them…”

           (Ryan backed warily) “Look, guys, I want to be big too. Muscles are great. They make you strong, big, burly … powerful and … uh …” (He shook his head. The chanting must’ve been getting to him.) “But I don’t want to be just like them, ya know? I want to be buff, sure. And maybe a little ripped. I want to play football one day, sure. But-”

           “Just like us … just like us …” (They never stopped smiling.)

           “Guys, I don’t want to be just like you, okay? I want to be … well, I want to be—”

           “Big … just like them,” (Chad said.)

           “Strong … just like them,” (Chris said.)

           “Buff … just like them.”

           “Guys, please.” (The pair were relentless.)

           “Swole … just like them.” (Chris continued.)

           “Well … maybe I–um …” (Ryan flushed as he took a guilty glance towards the twins.)

           “Bulging muscle … just like them.” (Chad said.)

           “Yes, but so much … bigger …” (Ryan sighed.)

           “Massive size … just like them …” (That one was Chris.)

           “I want … more …”

           “Just … like … us …” (Chad and Chris grinned at their friend)

           “I … no, I just … want to be … I want … want to feel … feel … I wanna--”

           “Be just like them … Be Just like us …”

           “I want to be … big … like them … and uh … manly. … like them … like them … just … like … them--” (Aaaaand there went number three. He immediately stood next to them, all three with their little bulges in a row as they stared adoringly at the twins.)

           “Just like them … Just like us … Big … buff … Massive …”

           “Massive. Manly. Bulge. Massive. Manly. Bulge. Be just like us. Don’t think. Don’t fuss. Massive. Manly. Bulge.

           “Just like them … don’t think. Don’t fuss … Massive. Manly. Bulge.” (I watched them parrot the twins’ movements. Soon they were showing off their own erections with cocky sneers, just like their “role models.”)

           “More big. More buff. More dumb. More swole. The more massive we make our manly bulge.”

           “More big. More buff. More dumb. More swole. The more massive we make our manly bulge.” (I … don’t believe what I’m seeing. I swear, those three were already at full mast. It’s obvious. And so were the twins. But … they’re expanding! What the hell?)

           “Grow your massive, manly bulge. Laugh out the nerd. Put the jock in control.”

           “Massive. Manly. Bulge. Massive. Manly. Bulge. Massive. *Snark* Manly. *eheh* Bulge. *GURK* M-m-m-massive, *huhu* Manly *uuhuuhuuu* B-b-b-bulge-AAahahahaha—” (They laughed like they couldn’t control it. And all the while the twins looked on blankly and just smiled like the idiots they’d become, flexing, posing, and chanting that same mantra about their massive, manly bulges. Those big, fucking annoying, massive, manly bulges that grow and swell and … so huge … so … manly … bigger … must be … Massive … so … so massive … I …I’ll be right back. I have to *GROAN* t-t-take care of … my bulge … my … bulgey … Growing … Massive, manly bulge. Growing … always growing. Make bigger. Bulge ……………...) [Warning: Recording reaching maximum capacity. Closing application in 3 … 2 … 1 … 0--]

           (Okay, okay, I’m back. Sorry about that. I um … had some business to take care of again. It’s lights out here, but I should be okay finishing this recording as long as I whisper. Anyways, where was I? No, been there, fast forward … Ah, there we are. So as you can hear, the jocks are still chanting and the nerds are still laughing. And well, what happened next scared the crap out of me. No joking, their junk must’ve grown like three times in size. And the longer they laughed, the deeper their voices went. It switched from a light, happy laughter to a low, deep, dull kind of boom.)

           “Huhuhuhuuuuu … Massive. Manly. Bulge.” (And as they laughed, I watched them start to bulk up. I kid you not, I watched them physically grow taller. I saw the bumps pressing against the fabric of their shoes as their feet grew by at least half a size, then continued to swell and extend. The fabric burst on the sides as their socks tore. I watched them flexing as they laughed and their shirts started to grow snug. Their arms lengthened and expanded, their legs thickened, their calves became like carved marble. And just as their bodies thickened, so did their heads. I could practically hear the pressure their skulls put on their brains as they expanded.)

           “I feel … funny, uhuu … like uhhhhh … like … *Deep Laughter*

           “I think the word you’re looking for is dumb.” (I said scornfully. And the worst part was the guy, Chris, grinned at me, his blonde hair shining as he posed.) “Dude, I’m so fuckin’ pumped. Like … I never felt this way before, ya know?”

           “Like, so ripped. Dudes, we like, totally need to work out!” (Ryan, the redhead said as his jaw started to jut out and a bit of stubble presented itself on his chin. I kid you not; that’s what happened. Or at least what I saw. I felt so light-headed and the smell from the bathrooms was so strong. But no one was showering. How could it be here too? And now of all times? It … made it hard to focus. It was just so easy to just watch and let things happen, you know? Just sit back, relax and just … listen. So good to listen.)

           “Gotta get swole, bros.” (Gotta get swole. Yeah, they uh … that’s what they said, I mean Chad said. And … he’s laughing. So yeah. Aaaand there goes their compression underwear. You do hear that, right? But … this was a hallucination. Or … was it real and the process just … makes … dumb jocks … big … dumb … jocks. Make more … dumb jocks … more massive men. Massive men. Massive me. I um … I gotta focus here. Focus on … the recording.)

           “Fucking ‘A man, I feel fucking awesome!” (That one was uh … Chris again. They were so … out of it. And … flexing so much. So much flexing. Posing. Swelling. I … I don’t know where everyone else was. M-maybe that’s why … why this happened. Let them flood the place with … with the gas …)

           “*SHRED* Uhuuuuu … look at my fuckin’ bicep, bros.”

           “Chad, that’s like … so fuckin’ cool.” (That one was Ryan. He’s still a little behind the others, but that’ll change soon.)

           “Bro, like … call me Thirteen.” (They call eachother by numbers now? I … guess that makes sense. Takes away their individuality. Makes them more compliant, more like a group. Less like a person.)

           “Dudes, like, only coach calls us that, remember?” (That one was Dick.)

           “But, it’s so fuckin’ boss, bro.”

           “I know, but we can’t yet. Not till coach tells us we can.”

           “Gotta obey coach.” (This one was Tracey. Then they all just sort of went rigid.)

           “Obey coach. Listen to coach. Coach makes us bigger. Coach makes us better. Coach makes us men. Massive, manly men. Massive, manly bulge.” (There they go again with their chanting. I had to look away after a point. Their bodies grew so much, they *GROAN* shredded their clothes with their muscles … their massive muscles. So … massive … manly … bulging. I uh … don’t have much more to report on this. Just … they changed in a few minutes. That’s … that’s powerful stuff. I … I don’t think I should say anything about this to the others. Nobody’d believe me. But yeah … there were basically … three naked studs left and *PANT* two more next to them. Studs like horses, I mean. Hung like horses. Dumb as horses, too. Big, dumb jocks. So big. So dumb. Uh … yeah, let’s just move on before I keep repeating myself.)

           “Big. Dumb. Jock. Massive. Manly. Bulge.” (And so they continued. At least until Coach Abrams came in. He took one look at the five of them, then at me. He gave me a creepy smile, then turned to the others and barked an order.)

“Twenty-two, Twenty-three, Thirteen, Five, Ten, fall in!”

           “Yes, sir.”

           *Loud Clattering*

           END TRANSMISSION

 ~Day 27~

           My head’s a lot clearer today. Sorry about that from last night. Anyways, time for my rant, so hold on to something.

Those stupid grunts broke my tablet! Abrams said they won’t be able to get me a new one for a while, so I’m stuck with this old one for now and its stupid flickering screen. Good thing I already know how to touch type. As I suspected, the twins are gone now, along with their three … I don’t know what to call them. Brainwashees? Fellow jocks? Former nerds? Something. Anyways, they’ve been promoted to the next step in their process. That’s what Abrams came to do when they messed with my tablet. The ones who were gullible enough to follow them in the showers and gym are showing the signs, too. The ones that are left anyways. We’re dropping like flies. Jake, one of our overdramatic members went through a nervous breakdown today. I had to try to comfort him. Man, can that guy cry. Guess that’s all for now. I’ll write again tomorrow.

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I found this hilarious, especially considering how pretty much every post I’ve read from these people has been nothing but appropriate, if extremely punny/corny.

“Disliked and Loved”

(Reblog this if you enjoyed)

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Sometimes the truth can be hilarious!

Thank you all for reading!

Stay tuned for tomorrow’s comic!

New Writer on the Block

Hey, all. I’m Omni, also known as Omnikitsune on Furaffinity.net. I’m a writer who’s absolutely obsessed with transformation fiction. I particularly enjoy muscle growth and hypnotic themes, but I also enjoy other types, such as animal, and am willing to experiment with new ones, like inanimate, etc. For those of you who find this blog, I hope you enjoy the work that I post. Some of it will come from previous works that I’ve written, and others will be fresh material.

That being said, I do have some little rules I’d like to go over with people.

I may be willing to take requests, but if I do, it will likely be shorter posts. I love doing a properly developed story, but I do have real life work that I need to take care of, too, after all, so I won’t always be able to be so detailed on scenery and character development, etc. Suggestions are also welcome, if people have prompts, but I don’t guarantee I’ll be able to get to them all or even be willing to do them all.

Rule one may be changed, if I get enough subscribers who wish to see me write content for them to use full time. That being said, I would require an alternate means of support. So, any donations to Ko-fi or commissions would be appreciated. I don’t use Patreon, since I don’t really have enough followers to make it worth it at the moment. Kofi link will be below. If you wish to discuss commissions with me, you can send me a private message, and I can give you a quote. http://ko-fi.com/omnikitsune

I do not do adult content. I will go mature, and occasionally I may use more crude or crass things as certain characters may require in my work (Perhaps push the envelope), but I will not write graphic sex scenes. Please respect this rule when you send me requests or commission me. There doesn’t have to be sex for a story to be great or fit a trope.

I may occasionally ask for some advice or help with parts of tumblr, since I’m new to this particular blogosphere. I hope you guys will understand and be patient with me as I learn. Any advice you can give would be greatly appreciated on those topics as I ask them.

Thanks for reading, and I look forward to joining the tumblr community.

~Omni

Real Men’s Journal: Part 7

Hey, Tumblr. Sorry it took me so long to update. Real life is annoying that way sometimes, and as a writer, I’ve been working to earn commission money to help pay the bills. You know how it goes. Anyways, here’s the next installment in the series. I hope you all enjoy. Please reblog, like, and otherwise enjoy as you wish. There’s more to come for our friend, Kyle.

As you bros can see, he’s starting to crack. I wonder how much longer he can endure. Let’s find out.

~DAY ???~

           That video file could’ve gone better. I just … I feel so –Idunno, vulnerable, I guess. It’s taken me a few days to get my composure back. On the plus side, the coaches aren’t too happy about that. I haven’t been working out as much as they want since I’ve been trying to get myself back under control. The rest of the people in my “class” also became more kind after witnessing the event. At least I’ve got some friends now; even if they are pity friends. I miss my real friends and my real family so much right now. And, surprisingly, I find myself missing Kevin and 100.

           I need something to get my mind off of all this. Maybe I’ll go take a shower. Watch a game or something. I could use something mindless right now. Later.

 ~DAY ???~

           I’ve been dreaming. The same dream all the time. I see all the faces in my family, old friends, my old life, even those stupid bullies Damien and Bryan. We’re in high school and I’m laughing like this was the dream and that was the reality. I didn’t even care when I got beat up, or made fun of for my “being a fucking pansy.” I was home. Then I walk into gym class and we’re in the weight lifting segment. We get a substitute and I see Abrams and Stone standing there. They segment us off, make us take different machines and spot and work out with a partner. Surprisingly, I didn’t see the dreadful duo.

I got assigned with Kevin, the Kevin I knew before he disappeared, before the change. He was just as eager, just as kind, just as earnest as ever. I smiled as we got together and began to work on a set with a different pair of individuals working at the bench next to ours. Something about them seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place my finger on what.

We began to lift, and it was surprisingly easy. Up. Down. Up. Down. It was a special kind of rhythm and it just brought a smile to my lips as I fell into it. Kevin smiled back at me as he kept an eye on the bar, his hands hovering just below in case my arms gave out. My whole body throbbed with blood as it pumped and flowed through my veins, filling everything. The weights just kept clanking and clanking in my ears. Up. Down. Clank. Clank.

Then came the grunts, groans, and moans. It started off sort of small at first, a distant person, but then it grew, slowly spreading across the room. When it started to my side, I turned my head to see our two neighbors. I heard their voices growing deeper, shifting in unison as the one lifted and the other watched. Soon the spotter just backed off and started to pose and flex. He was hard as hard could be as he kept going. Then, to my horror, I heard another grunt, a pleasurable groan, and I watched as Kevin left me, walking towards this stranger. The two posed, flexed, and then began to grow together. I wanted to scream, cry out, do something. But all I could do was watch silently as I continued to lift like a robot. Up. Down. Up. Down.

Kevin blew up before my eyes, becoming more and more what I had seen of him before he disappeared. I watched his companion as he grew and swelled, his features slowly changing, becoming masculine, prominent. I watched his smile turn into a sneer as he continued to grow. Soon, in the stead of the nice boy, I saw Damien. Instead of kevin, I saw … I don’t know what to call it to be honest with you. He was big, buff, powerful, but he didn’t even seem to recognize me as he looked at me. He seemed sort of dazed. Confused.

I heard another groan of pleasure and to my right, I watched as the other boy clanked faster and harder. The more he pumped, the bigger he grew. Soon he was as tall as Damien, and nearly as broad, and just as hard. Seriously, do erections have to follow me everywhere? I can’t even get away from them in my sleep anymore. And the more I remember them, the harder it gets to stop. So hard. So very hard. And getting harder. Thicker. Stronger. Muscles. So horny … so … so horny. I … have to go. Be back … later. Bigger. Better. So much better … to be big. Big. Muscles. BIG. BUFF. BIGBUFFMUSCLEBIGBUFFMUSCLEMEATMASSIVEMANLY BULGINGHUGESWOLEBEASTBROMUSCLEMASSIVEMANLYBULGEMASSIVEMANLYBULGEMASSIVEMANLYBUIOIOOONLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLlllllllll—

 ~Day ???~

Damnit, they did it again! Sorry about that. I … let’s get back to the story. The dream. Anyways, the guy to my right. He finally stopped clanking and put the weights on their rest. It was 300 pounds, easy, far different than the starting weight I’d seen before. He grunted, sneered, and then I watched his face turn into Bryan’s. He walked up and patted Kevin on the back. Damien smacked him on the butt. I watched in horror as Kevin’s face twitched, then pulled up into a dazed sort of smile. Then he grunted and posed to the cheers of his two companions as they lay their arms around his shoulders, whispered things in his ears, and he just nodded and mouthed along. Soon they were standing bare as bare could be, a trio of men in what appeared to be posing straps of some kind, similar to speedos. I watched as they looked at themselves in the mirror-wall. I saw Kevin’s smile turn into a grin, and then slowly into a sneer to match his new companions.

And still I lifted. Still, I pressed. Up. Down. Clank. Clank. Pump. Pump. I felt my own member stirring and heard a low grunt issue from my lips against my will. Everything clenched and unclenched. First I was tight, then I was loose, then tight again. Pump. Bigger. Clank. Tighter. Up. Buffer. Down. Big Guns. I felt myself get up and lay the bar on the bench. The weight read 400 lbs. total. I heard the dull thuds of my footsteps across the floor, felt the shockwave as it spread from my heavy frame into the floor. I felt the air across my body as my clothing faded away. I felt the tightness of my skin on my arms as I swung them and shuddered at their power. I looked down to see the floor much farther away than it was before and a neon yellow jockstrap with bright green writing on it. Looking up into the floor length mirror before me, I read what it said in its reflection. “Jumbo Jock Junk” stood out boldly on the pouch of the strap, which grew bigger and tighter every few seconds.

I tried to resist, to fight back, but was powerless in my dream as the three surrounded me, ganged up on me, and ultimately changed me. I grinned at my reflection and watched it warp into an identical sneer. “So big.” I chuckled deeply as I felt something seeping from my head with every pump of blood. “Just a big, dumb jock. Just think with my cock.” I mentally recoiled from that, but the others joined in with my dream self as we slowly grew bigger, bigger, bigger, until we burst through our straps, and still we grew.

I always wake up in a cold sweat with a raging hard on. The first time, I felt so dazed, distant, foggy even. And when I wrote about this … well, you read what happened. Crap, again already? But it can’t be that time. I never used to be so boned. And … my clothes are starting to feel a little tight. Everyone’s giving me the stare. I can only assume I fell into trance again. The scary thing is … I think I’m starting to like this. Scans say my endorphins are through the roof. And my testosterone is increasing like mad. Who knew growing could be so … pleasurable?

 ~DAY ???~

Okay, so maybe the coaches aren’t so bad. Maybe. Stone’s actually been kinda nice. He keeps his distance for the most part, lets me do what I want. Don’t get me wrong. I’m still pissed. I still want to know what these sickos are doing with everyone and how they’re getting away with all of this. But he does show some measure of concern for the others, even if they are just sacks of meat and muscle by this point, like 100. He warns them not to train too hard. Even told me to take a break. That other coach never did that. Funny … I can’t think of his name. But … why can’t I? I see his face. I remember his muscles, the shrill blow of his whistles. His deep voice. His uniform. Coach’s stripes. All official looking, like a coach should look. I … guess I’ll just call him coach. Yeah, coach’ll work. I … I think I remember now. Coach Abrams. That’s the name. Yes, sir. Coach. Coach Abrams. He was pretty respectful, too, now that I think about it. It’s good to show respect. Respect authority. Coach is authority. Respect Coach. Obey authority. Obey Coach.

I have to go now. Have to listen to coach. Have to obey coach. Coach says work out. Coach says to listen. Yes, sir, Coach. I listen. I obey.

 ~DAY ???~

           Man, I just can’t seem to get enough of those protein shakes. It feels like I just finish one when my stomach starts to rumble again. 100’s been a big help, not even complaining when I ask for another one. Each time I taste it, I just feel so good. So warm. I’ve been gaining more muscle, but I don’t feel too different yet. Maybe I’ll be able to stay like me instead of turning into one of them? I sure hope so. I like being me.

           My body’s been feeling a lot more energized of late. And I have to admit, it feels really good. I eat a lot more than I used to, but it doesn’t seem to be much of a problem. My body burns it almost as fast as I eat it. My clothes have been feeling really tight and so have my shoes. I look at myself in the mirror sometimes and I can’t help but smile a little. I actually look fit. I actually feel fit. And … well, alright, once or twice I’ve tried flexing in front of a mirror.

I think I can see why the others do it. After losing so much weight, I’m starting to look like a real model. It’s kindof nice. That and my bulge. It’s … well, it’s bigger. My penis is bigger and I like the way it looks pressing against my shorts, alright? It just makes me … feel good. Especially when I pat it. But every time I cup ‘em, I feel … Idunno, disappointed, I guess. My hands always feel too big compared to em. I feel upset. It’s almost like I want them to be bigger. But I can’t. If I start thinking like that, then the brainwashing will win. But I can’t stop thinking about them. Always growing. Growing bigger. Larger. Like me. So massive. So full. Pressing. Bulging. Mine. All mine. My bulge. My massive, manly bulge. Swelling … straining … bigger. Bigger. BIGGER! MAKE ME FUCKING MASSIVE!!!!!! FUCK YEAH!!!!!!

 ~DAY ???~

ACCESSING #56 VIDEO FILE 003

           A sweaty teenager with plastered hair and well-toned muscles is smiling into the camera. His brown hair is darkened by sweat and his blue eyes blaze with a smoldering sort of pleasure.  

“Man, my head’s been feeling so fuzzy lately. But I can’t seem to stop. It’s weird, but I’m actually kindof fine with it. I feel more relaxed than I’ve been in ages. I just sort of blank out and let it go, you know? I’ve gone up a couple of sizes since I last wrote. Tore through my workout clothes while I was doing a set. It’s a good thing 100 was there with another set for me to shift into. He clapped me on the back and I couldn’t help but smile. I really don’t know why I was so scared about this. It’s pretty fucking sweet.” He paused and frowned a moment, like he’d tasted something unpleasant. Then it cleared and he returned to his narration.

“Oh yeah, I’m cursing a little more than usual. What do you expect? Deal with these muscleheads long enough, you need to learn their language. It was inevitable. You know, like it was meant to be. Gotta go. The game’s on and I need to shower with the guys. They’re waiting for me. Knuckleheads. Always trying to show off their gains. Can’t match me though. I’m still bigger.” He smirked. “And it feels good to be big. Can’t wait to see their dopy grins when they watch the screens. Fuckin’ nerds won’t even see it coming.” This time he didn’t flinch. First they’ll turn on the screens, then they’ll watch the lights, then they’ll start to flex. Feels so good to flex. Their muscles will BULGE.” He strikes a pose, flexing a bicep, which barely raises the sleeve of his larger shirt, but is still noticeable. “Then they’ll start to PUMP. Then they’ll get more SWOLE!” He smiles goofily as he strikes a double bicep flex.

“Feels so good, too. FLEXING. Just listening and letting go. Watching the game. Just like the guys. Just one of the guys. One of the team. With a massive, manly bulge. So big. Bigger. Must be MASSIVE. Make MASSIVE.” He smirks as he poses again. “Look at that.” The camera pans down to where a medium sized bulge presses against the shorts. Then the camera pans back up to his face. “That’s my bulge. My swelling, growing, bulgy bulge. Bigger. Have to be bigger. Bigger is better. Makes me happy.” He gets up and moves to the camera. “Time for a shower. With the team.” Before the camera turns off, there is a groan of pleasure followed by a snapping sound. “Ohhhhh hell yeah. Burst my fuckin’ jock.” A dimwitted, deep chuckle is heard as the recording shuts off.

END TRANSMISSION

 ~DAY ???~

Hey, guys. What’s up? Been working out like a fucking BEAST the last couple weeks. Time’s going by so fast. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here now. Then again, I don’t really care so much anymore either. I’ve been having too much fun with the guys. Josh is bulkin’ up like mad, man. If I’m not careful, he’s gonna be bigger than I am soon.

Cooper’s a great kid. Been listening to my MP.3s with him. He was kinda scared at first, but now we’re both really getting into it. It’s just so good to listen, ya know? He doesn’t listen as long as the rest of us do, but that’ll change soon enough. Coach says it’s good to listen to them as much as we can. Hell, I even work out listening to ‘em now. It just feels right, and I get such a huge pump when I listen, too.

As for Trent, well, Coach said he needed special classes. Last time I saw him, he was chowing down as much protein as he could get. The kid’s like three times the size he used to be when he came in. Said hi, he just sorta smiled at me, grunted, got back to eating. Don’t need ta talk really, not when you’re getting’ swole, ya know? Just breaks your concentration. He was wearing solid grey and sitting down with the big boys on the team. Coach said Trent’s a fast track student. His bulge is already so huge. So’s he. I wanna be big too. I thought being fit would be enough, but I just keep wanting more and more. It aches sometimes how much I want it. Need it. Need muscles. Need to grow. I … I need it. So hard. So big. Need to … Need to … I … have to go. Have to work out. Gotta get swole with my massive, manly bulge. My fucking bulge. Yes. Yes, sir, Coach. I’m listening. Coming now. Just let go … yes …

 ~DAY???~

Shit, what happened? Guess coach just sorta needed me … or something. Scanning every day now. Bout three times a day. Makes me all warm and tingly. Every day I feel a little tighter. A little closer. But … closer to what? I … I don’t know. My … my head hurts when I try to think about it. Why does it hurt? Make it stop. Make it stop. Just … make it fucking stop!