Cliche Gym Chapter 7 (Patreon Preview)

Cliche Gym Chapter 7 (Patreon Preview)

He shrugs. “That may be part of it. I don’t know. And honestly, I’m not paid to know, so I don’t really care. What I care about is growing and helping my trainees to grow.”

“And what would you say your success rate is?”

“I’d say I rank a solid Poppins.”

“… A what?”

He smirks. “Practically perfect in every way.”

You cock your head. “Huh. Didn’t pin you for a Disney guy.”

“Most folks don’t.” He strides toward you and stares down over the shelf of his massive pecs. “So, a few ground rules. You can call me Big Bro, Bro, Sir, or Jeff. Whatever makes you comfortable. When we’re training, I’m going to push you hard. I’m not always so nice as I am in casual conversation. This is a professional relationship, and I expect you to understand that and respect that fact.

“My job is to push you to your limits and help you exceed them. We’re going to be crossing a lot of lines and breaking through a lot of barriers. You’re going to be sore and tired for the first few sessions we have. I’ll be encouraging you to push past that fatigue to increase your endurance and other capabilities. That encouragement can be positive or negative, depending on the situation. I don’t abuse my clients, and the same will hold for you. I mentor them. I train them. I push them. But I will never deliberately hurt them or you. If you turn into a zealot, I will stop you, though. There is such a thing as working out too much. I can help build your body to handle those kinds of loads if that’s the goal, but if you go too far too fast, you’ll do more harm than good. So, I expect you to listen to me and follow my instructions to the letter. Are we clear?”

“As crystal, Sir,” you say with a playful smirk.

Jeff smirks back. “Careful. That just might become a habit.” Then he turns toward the gym proper and a series of mats before a floor-length mirror. A casually waving hand draws you in tow after him. “Come on. We’ll start off with some basic warmups. Stretching, a little cardio. Then we’ll see about setting up a baseline for your plan.”

“My plan?”

“How else am I supposed to train you if I don’t know where to start?”

You look at the mats, where several men and women with varying body types are working either with dumbbells, stress bands, or just testing their flexibility. Some are watched over by muscled figures like Jeff. Others seem to be looking at their neighbors and following together. Some chat playfully or casually. Others remain stony and silent as they focus on their tasks.

“Quite a menagerie here,” you note.

Jeff grins. “Welcome to the zoo, Mister Winters.”

Jeff is definitely not the same kind of man as James or some of his other more muscular employees. His voice and demeanor may be blunt, but his whit is sharp. He might not be a bad connection to form a rapport with here. Time would tell that. For now, however, you decide that at the very least, Jeff is someone that you could grow to like. “Where’s the tiger pen?” you joke back.

Jeff’s grin widens. And then you begin.

----------------------------------------------------

If you want to read more of this story, please pledge to my Patreon.

This link will lead you to the story part directly. Enjoy this and more muscle transformation stories/series for just $3 a month.

EXCELLENT IDEA

What do you write about? Like, how would you describe the content of your writing?

Here on my tumblr? Fiction. I love muscle growth and dumbing down/hypnotic situations, and I look for pictures that inspire me to write stories and plots, then caption stories to go with them later. Transformation has always been a favorite genre of mine since my teens when I encountered werewolves. As an out of shape asthmatic, I always loved to escape into fantasy and imagine putting myself into stories to change the direction and make the adventures my own. Transforming into a hero who never had to deal with being fat or short of breath or getting nauseated was a way for me to cope with a world that wasn't always nice to me in the school environment. I was never beaten up, but I took my share of blows in the verbal sense. And I admit some of them may have been deserved. Not all, but some. Or at least I understand why others may have chosen to fling them my way. I had a lot of growing up to do after living a fairly sheltered life, and my speech patterns and tone made me sound like an insufferable knowitall whiner. It didn't help that my voice didn't start dropping properly till I was a sophomore. If you want something more general, I'd say I write about people. That's what any good writer does, IMO. They write real believable characters that people can relate to or feel a connection with. And I love that kind of energy, so I try to replicate it in my other works. I write places and people and events that feel real to the reader, even if they never can be in reality. I've written whole cultures built brick by brick from religions, mythologies, background information. All it takes is a spark to help light a blaze. If I find that spark, I try to capture it, get the essence of the idea written down, and then either file it away or get to work on the full story and getting it done ASAP. Professionally, I would like to be published one day, and I've been working on a project to that effect for the last year in my free hours away from Patreon, commission work, and other obligations. I'd say fantasy and sci-fi are my cups of tea, with greater experience in the realm of fantasy. Coming from one who loved to daydream and found a steady diet in fantasy from a very young age, it's only natural for me to want to write these kinds of fantasies and take pleasure in them. I don't know if this all answered your question or even came anywhere close, but I hope it helps. If you want something other than just muscle, hypnosis, and dumbing down, I recommend you check out my artist page at https://www.furaffinity.net/user/omnikitsune/. Thanks for the question, whoever you are, and I hope that I continue to entertain you in the future with my craft.

~ Omni

I wish to become a horny beer bro dumb muscled football jock, gooning, cumming and fucking in his rank jockstrap with the bros getting drunk on beer and all sweaty and dirty from the game, butttttt, I want this to happen when I , a 18 yo male goes into the locker room and tries of one of the used football kits from a game and it would start. Could you help me?

I'm afraid that I can't. I don't do adult content, and what you're requesting is too graphic for me and my personal religious beliefs. You want a good muscle growth/dumbing down tf? I'll be happy to provide that. The rest is a no for me, though. It's one thing to write a character who's obsessed with sex or has a high libido as a character trait. It's another to portray such actions directly in the written word. So, yeah, I'm afraid I can't help you this time. Not while you're asking me to show graphic sexual content like what you describe here.

Death’s Soliloquy

You know, I’ve been around for a very long time.

My purpose was and is a simple one. I exist to guide what once was into the great beyond, the what will be, if you will.

Every day of your mortal lives, I am working, watching, travelling silently among you.

Sometimes, I linger. Other times, I do not.

I don’t decide my timetable. I am neither cruel nor hateful. I do not steal life, nor do I feast upon it like some glutted animal. I am not the source of ailments or hunger or conflict. You can attribute those things to the other horsemen, and more importantly to Man. We do not sow that which we embody. Man calls us. And we come, because we must. It is our Duty.

And before you get any ideas, I don’t inflict myself on others. I come when I must, and I perform my Duty. That has always been my purpose, and for all I know, it always will be. Or perhaps the time will come when I can retire and pass this burden to another with the birth of a new world and a new creation. Who can say? It is one of those “great mysteries” that you mortals love to ponder so much.

I am content with my lot. I am seen every day, but so few of you mortals recognize me or even talk to me. It is both blessing and curse, I suppose. The Veil, I mean. You know, I honestly think humans are the reason the Veil exists in the first place. Not that it was placed as some punishment, but because man reached a point where he simply feared the spiritual. So many men think fear is essential in life. It pushes one to great acts that may seem otherwise impossible to achieve. And, indeed, in that way fear can be very useful. But like any tool or naturally occurring phenomenon, it can also be exploited. I suppose over time, it has also served as a necessary defense mechanism, but we can discuss that later.

You know, I honestly think that’s what comprises the veil most, exploitation. The idea that man must rely on himself alone, pushing their will over everything else. And like the sudden cough of a combustion engine, the smog of their will bursts from them to clog the ether.

It’s perfectly harmless on its own, but magnify that expulsion by billions upon billions and, well, you can barely see the hand in front of your face at that point. The only thing I’ve noticed that’s strong enough to cut through it is a pure, unwavering faith, the kind that’s not forced or thrust by the will of others, but born of devotion and love gained through personal experience and hard work. That, or a complete openness and acceptance that borders on the divine.

I had many wonderful conversations with the one you call Terry Pratchett before I came for that most important visit. He was such a one as I listed above. I like to believe he fell a little under both exceptions to the Veil. Much of our discussions wound their way into his work. I quite liked his portrayal of me. The idea of searching for meaning, a chance to experience joy and life as humans do. Yes, I very much approve of the world he crafted, a world where the ideas that mortals seem to cling to with such certainty and passion can be thrown on their heads in an instant and leave them to ponder, to wonder, and perhaps to think openly and clearly for the first time in their lives. Perhaps, one day, he will be able to do so in a reality that he forges in that great beyond, rather than in written word and the portals of his mind. Yes, I would not mind knowing such a Death, nor travelling such a world.

Ah, but of course, it would have to wait until my Duty is complete in this cycle of the Eternal Round.

Now, then, where was I?

Ah, yes. I was talking of Man and his perceptions. Many think me to be cruel. They beg me to send them back or allow them to remain. Some run. Occasionally, they are allowed to return, their time extended by the higher power that I serve. Others are allowed to linger, because their will is simply that strong. Among those, sadly, many grow angry at the living and lose their way. They forget who and what they are, so warped by that expulsion of certainty that others do not deserve the time they have been given in life. Those sensations of anger, jealousy, and rage fester and decay until their hosts are little more than husks driven and bound by these emotions’ whims. It is a sad fate, one that I wish to help as many as I can to avoid. But it is also why the Veil is there. It protects Man from these aberrations, and from those other forces that seek to manipulate or harm them directly. Ah, but that war is one in which I must remain neutral until the end. Until that time, I must attend to my Duty.

Which brings me to today.

Ah, yes. Today, I face a different challenge in the form of a, “Woke” generation, I believe they are called. A pale rider on a pale horse is not often welcome, and I have been called by many names as a result. Words that are untrue, born of grief, of regret, of countless losses in opportunities and actions that can no longer be performed or seized. I have faced this in many generations before. It, too, is a part of the Eternal Round. I cannot even begin to count the number of -ists and -obics that I have been called over the years as I helped these spirits to accept their ends. It is my hope to guide them to a new beginning, one that can be beyond such petty grievances and pains that Man has inflicted and accrued over the course of their existence.

For many, I succeed. For some few, I am ashamed to say that I fail, and I must leave these spirits to their fates and the hands and voices of others to sooth or manipulate as the spirit wills.

It brings me great joy when my Duty calls me to one of these after finally being led to accept what they would not before. And I am glad to have them ride with me. It is in this instance that my paleness no longer offends or inflicts fear. It is in this instance where I can experience for a few fleeting moments that joy of friendship, of brotherhood that Man both embodies and rejects so readily. Some apologize. Others are merely silent as they lean into my back and hold my waist. We both know the truth, and so there is no need for them to speak. I give them a final ride, and then usher them unto that great beyond.

But, as ever, it must be their choice to take that final step. I often wave and smile reassuringly to them, and that puts those who see my true nature at ease, a well wishing to bolster their courage in this final sendoff. I cannot pass beyond those portals myself. Not yet.

I have a unique memory. It allows me to see what my passengers were, who they were. But more importantly, it allows me to see who and what they can become. It is that sight, more than any other, that motivates me most. Indeed, I believe I can say, with absolute certainty, it is that very sight that motivates all the heavenly hosts you mortals have called upon and invoked and personified throughout your lives.

Man needs faith, because without it, miracles and wonders truly would cease, and that beautiful potential I see every day will become smaller, smaller, smaller still, until it withers away to dust scattered across the empty void from which their matter was first organized and formed.

I cannot judge. That is not my place.

But I do know, because I can read their lives, all lives. And whether they be sentenced to paradise or a hell of their own making, I will be there to help them onward to that next step.

I always have been from the day of Man’s fall, whether that be because of one God or many gods or one Devil or many devils or the will of Man himself.

And I await the day when I will no longer be needed, when my purpose ends and I can finally say, It is done.

And what will become of me after? Well, who among you can say? My vision, my memory, if you will, reveals their potential and their lives, but it does not necessarily apply to my own existence.

Still, I like to hope that those who went before me will be waiting to guide me as I did them, and to welcome me with open arms into that Eternity beyond those gates. Myself, and my fellow riders, to usher us into the end of the cycle and the beginning of something new.

Until then, I will fulfill my Duty. After all, I am Death. I can wait.

The End

Love the latest Down Payment story!! Hope it would have a chance to continue with a prequel and sequels!!

Thanks so much for the praise. I'm not sure whether it will or not, but it certainly has potential for them. So we'll see what happens.