Mistakes

Mistakes

I messed up. I feel badly for the frustration I have caused. I must learn. I must move on. Letting go of the pain is the hardest.

Lifting Up and Dumbing Down Part 11

You groan as your alarm goes off and you open your bleary eyes. No dream this time, or at least not that you remember. You scratch at your chest and slowly rise to pull the earbuds out. Then you look up at the fathead again and offer a brief salute. “Morning, meathead.” You get up and scratch at your crotch as you make your way to the bathroom mirror. You yawn as you stretch, then flex your arm the same way you have been for the last two weeks. “One more day, and you’ll be a proper habit,” you mutter. You put on that easygoing smile you’ve been practicing and let out a chuckle as you relax your gaze, letting your eyes appear to glass over. You pitch your voice lower (you find that so much easier in the morning) and pat your bicep. “Morning, meathead.” A shudder passes through your body, and you feel a slight stirring below. Ever since you started on those recordings, that’s felt better and better to say. You still don’t think you’re nearly big enough to qualify, but time and effort has at least yielded some results. You see a bit more perk in the bicep than you had expected, and the surface is less yielding than it had been when you first started, giving off less of a smack and more of a dull thump on impact. After you’ve showered and dressed in your gym clothes, you make your way to the kitchen, where you fix a massive pile of blueberry pancakes to go with your protein shake, or whatever it was. Part of something called the bulk cycle. You eat a lot of carbohydrates, mostly healthier ones, and then use them to build up mass that you turn into more muscle. At least, that’s how Duff had described it, after Hank gave the order. It went against everything you had come to know as a model, but since this was for the sake of bodybuilding, you had little choice but to trust the experts. You ate ravenously, using the shake to wash down the quick bread, and finished in just a few minutes. You piled the frying pan into the sink and loaded up the dishwasher, taking just enough time to dust in some soap and start the cycle, before running back to grab your keys, wallet, and gym bag, then make your way out the door. You run the pre-workout pump track through your ears as you jog to the bus stop. Your heart races and you feel the surge as the recording goes into full swing. By the time you reach the bus stop, you feel too energized to stop, so you jog in place, while you wait. It’s been getting harder to just sit around for any period of time. If it weren’t for the music in your track, the bus ride would be absolute murder. By the time you arrive near the gym, you’re practically blowing through those doors, where a smirking Hank stands waiting. “Leg day,” he noted casually. You just smirk confidently, the music thumping in your ears. “Bring it on.”

“Damn, man. You plowed through those exercises today,” Duff noted as the two of you passed through the gym’s doors and into the frigid air. Then he laughed. “Wouldn’t want to be in your shoes next time. Hank’s just gonna up his game, you know.” “Hey, I made it through the worst of it, didn’t I? I could’ve stopped coming, but I didn’t. If I can adjust to this, I can adjust to whatever he throws at me.” Duff shakes his head and chuckles. “Try to keep that in mind, when you’re going through hell.” “Shut up,” you laugh and punch him softly on the arm. “Seriously, though, I’ve gotta ask. What’re you listening to?” You shrug. “Custom tracks to help me focus as I work out. It’s part of the contract.” “Mandated?” “Pretty much. If there’s anything I don’t like in the script, I can take it back to the doc no problem.” You shrug. “It’s actually pretty cool. She put me in a carousel once, while we were testing to find the right blend for me. It was pretty cool.” “And you trust her?” “She’s a professional, and she strongly advised me against allowing the role to define me as I grow into it. All the tracks are designed to do is give me motivation and help me get into character for brief periods of time. Come to think of it, I haven’t tried one of those yet.” You tap your chin. Duff blushed, even as his lips curled into a smile. “Let’s just say you’re in for a surprise, then.” “A good one, I hope.” “Depends on how much you enjoy it.” Duff shrugged. “I like it, myself. It puts me in the right frame of mind when I’m working out.” “That reminds me, actually. When I first came in, Hank called you a beginner. If you’ve been working in the gym for so long on building up, why’d he say that?” “Probably because I haven’t really bulked up much yet. I’ve been sort of stuck at a plateau for a while now. I think it’s why he’s let us hang out so much. He probably wants us to train together, once you’re at a point where you can handle it.” “Handle it?” “Your body’s only just adjusting to the strain of a more serious workout on a regular basis. I work out almost every day now, both as part of my fitness program and my training here. It’s going to take a couple more weeks at least, before you’re ready to pump that kind of iron on a regular basis.” “But I will be able to one day.” Duff looks at you with a cocked eyebrow. “You sound almost excited about it.” “Determined. There’s a difference.” Duff smirked, then chuckled. “Not much. Think I might be able to watch you? I’m curious to see how you act.” “Think you can handle if I act like a total jerk?” Duff shrugged. “You don’t have to be, if you don’t want to be.” “Touche.” “I’ll take that as a yes.” “Hey!”

Working Like a Thrall Chapter 2

Here’s the second chapter. By this point, I started incorporating our friend, the librarian into the story as a sort of pre-part, before going back into this “journal” of our protagonist. I hope you all enjoy it. P.S. What do you think of me linking PDF URL to my transformation stories, rather than putting the text directly in the post box? I can’t do it for all of them, but for those that I have posted elsewhere online in PDF files, I can. Please let me know what you think. Thanks! ~Omni

Lifting Up and Dumbing Down Part 16

Previous: https://omnitf.tumblr.com/post/174795146417/lifting-up-and-dumbing-down-part-15

“Damn, bro, you’re growing fast,” Duff said as he wrapped a measuring tape around your midriff. “Thanks again for helping me out with this project, by the way.” “No problem. What else are friends for, ‘bro?’” you ask as you smile down at him. His apartment was actually pretty sweet. He’d turned the majority of the studio into an at-home gym, complete with weight rack, dumbbells, a bench press, and a few other accessories. A broad floor-length mirror had been installed on one of the walls, and his kitchen counter was lined with protein whey, creatine, and all manner of other supplements, including a few familiar silver packets. “And how long have you been working on bulking up again?” he asked as he wrote something else on his clipboard. You look up at the ceiling and scratch your head for a moment. “You know what? It’s funny, but I can’t seem to recall the date.” You chuckle. “I’m usually pretty good at that sort of thing. I know it was around midwinter. I think a little before.” Duff shrugged. “I’ll just check the computers for your sign-in date.” “That’ll work,” you agree. “So, what other changes have been happening for you?” You blush. “Well, if we’re being honest, I’m getting a bit ... bigger downstairs, if you catch my meaning, and my voice has been cracking a little.” Duff nodded. “I thought you’d been sounding a little sick lately.” “I’m not sick!” you object. “I said sounded sick, not that you were sick, stupid.” He chuckled. “In other words, I noticed how your voice has been reaching towards deeper registers lately.” “Oh.” You frown a moment, trying to find some problem with that. You’re not quite sure why you are, but ... you are. You’ve been feeling a lot more confrontational lately. “I ... guess that’s okay, then.” You reach back to scratch your head casually. “Thanks for the weights, by the way. They’re a big help.” Duff chuckled. “I thought they would be. There’s nothing quite like a good lifting to work off some stress.” You smile dreamily as you raise an arm to flex. “Yeah, and the pump’s not that bad, either.” Duff smiled. “Sounds like someone’s catching the muscle bug.” You grin impishly, then strike a pose as you pitch your voice as low as you can manage. “I love lifting weights, bro.” Duff punches you in the arm as tears of mirth form in the corners of his eyes. “Stop it,” he laughs. “That’s my line.” He set down the chart. “Besides, you’re not anywhere near this yet,” he smirked as he pulled off his shirt and began to pose. “Are you challenging me to a flex off, sir?” Duff smirked. “And what if I am?” “You cheeky little--.” Soon you’re both posing and flexing like your lives depend on it in front of the mirror. You look curiously at yourself. Your bangs are brushing against the sides of your face, obscuring parts of your vision. You always liked your hair before, but now it just doesn’t seem very ... practical. And it’s a real pain in the a--you catch yourself, before you let that thought complete itself. Pain in the butt. It’s a pain the butt, when the sweat runs down off it and plasters it to your face, especially when it gets in the eyes. Maybe ... maybe it’s time for a change. Change is good. You shudder at the thought, a pleasure that’s redoubled by the sensation of your muscles rippling and shining under the lights. Your head feels sort of fuzzy, and you grin at yourself, before turning your head to stare at your friend. “Hey, Duff?” you ask in that huskier, stuffed-up sort of voice. “You know any good barbers?” Duff turns back to look at you with that same dazed smile. “I think I know a guy. I’ll see about hooking you up.” “Thanks, bro.” It came so effortlessly. Duff’s smile widened. “No problem, bro.” Then Duff shrugged his thick shoulders, and you were back to posing again, just a couple of bros having a friendly competition.

Lifting Up and Dumbing Down Part 10

“There you are.” You look down at the small rectangular device Doctor Schroder has handed you. “That little thing will help you focus and make certain behavioral changes in your life to speed up the process as you change your body. As in all things with hypnosis, it will only work if you want it to work. The tracks are labeled, and I’ve included a master list here for you to know which tracks do what. They’re sectioned off by waking and sleeping. And as you can see, each of the waking tracks is further divided for different functions and actions: working out, diet, that sort of thing.” “And all I have to do is push the track number?” “Yup. The rest will take care of itself. I’ve also included a few temporary tracks for the sake of role playing. They’ll allow you to slip into various characters within the muscular stereotypes, while you’re at home. Take the time to get familiar with each of them. Once you find the one that fits you best, I advise you try leaning towards that. Then again, I’m not the director, so you may want to keep using all of them, in case the one you like isn’t the one the director prefers.” “And that’s it?” “Pretty much. From here on out, it’s up to you to brush up on each of the characters and learn how to talk and act like them. My purpose from this point onward is to simply help guide you to achieve the optimal expression of those stereotypes.” “And do we have enough time to work on some of those now?” “Plenty. Why don’t you show me what you’ve been working on thus far, and we’ll move forward from there?”

Duff cocked his head as he peered at you. You felt a little embarrassed at such scrutiny, despite how that was your main form of income. “You’re definitely different,” he mused. “It’s subtle, but I can see a little progress.” “It’s only been a week. How can I make progress that fast?” you counter. “I’m not pulling your leg, man. Just telling you my opinion.” “Sure you are.” “If you two are done chatting, it’s time for cardio,” Hank grated. “Move, kid.” The treadmill proved a refreshing exercise, after all the strain you’d put your body through the previous week. Duff pulled out an i-pod and laid it on a rest next to the controls, before threading a set of ear buds out and connecting them to the port. The rest of the run was sort of lonely as Duff stared ahead at the wall, but you couldn’t exactly blame him. The way Hank had you running, it wouldn’t have been too feasible to get a conversation going, anyways. After the warmup, he pushed you to your limits, focusing on endurance training once again. When all was said and done, you were ready to head home and shower again. You waved to Duff, but he seemed a little too distracted to respond. Some of the other builders were approaching him, and it looked like they were engaging in some sort of conversation. You shrugged it off and figured you’d text the guy later. It was only natural he’d have other friends in the gym, after all. He was a lot farther along in his progress.

That night, you peered up at the fathead of a vascular bodybuilder in a tight set of compression gear that clung to every meaty curve. You’d received it courtesy of Duff. According to the card info, he wanted to be able to give you something to work towards, but was too embarrassed to do it directly. Kinda weird for him to have done something like this when you’ve only known each other for about a week or so, but you weren’t about to argue about it. The guy was so sweet, after all. The builder smoldered down at you, an unspoken challenge in that harsh gaze as he pumped a pair of massive dumbbells. Your CHANGE IS GOOD sign stood out prominently on his chest. You look into those eyes one more time and chuckle to yourself as you reach for your lamp. “Goodnight, meathead.” You pause a moment. “Hmm. ‘Goodnight, meathead.’ Not a bad motivator,” you muse. You decide to print it up later. Then you chuckle as you flick off the light. Maybe you’ll dream again. As that thought crosses your mind, a familiar tingle runs faintly over your body. You can’t help but smile as you start to fade off. “I think I’d like that,” you yawn, then curl up on your side, and let the darkness take you.

Lifting Up and Dumbing Down Part 25

You yawn as you rouse yourself from sleep. Your alarm clock has gathered a thick layer of dust. You haven’t had to use its snooze button for weeks now. You know your routine and you follow it to the letter. You turn to the side and flick on your lamp to bathe your room in its golden glow. Your eyes sting at the sudden influx, but once they’ve adjusted, you smile as you look down at the fine dusting of hairs that have grown in on your forearm. They accent the curvature of the muscle that you’ve been growing, making them appear larger. And bigger muscle is always better. After you take your time to admire this newest addition to your rapidly developing ruggedness, you throw back your covers and swing your legs around to touch the carpet. You wiggle your toes, working through the material, then rise and reach down to scratch at your jock strap through the compression shorts. A dark blue swath over the crotch highlights the heft you’ve developed from all that hard work you’ve put in at the gym. You approach your mirror and scrape at the stubble on your chin. “Lookin’ good,” you rumble, then smirk cockily as you bounce one pec, then the other, back and forth. A somewhat denser dusting of hairs has begun to sprout between the densely packed muscle, like weeds in the sidewalk. You stroke them briefly, and the smirk turns into a cocky sneer. “I think I like you.” You tense your pectorals as the hairs brush against one another, and you let out a grunt. “Mmm ... definitely going to like you.” You reach down casually to adjust the crotch in your underwear, then smirk as you eye the large PUMP circling your waistband over and over. Already, your fingers are twitching. Your heart is pounding. You turn to the weights and jump rope, flicking over your old progress photos taped to the mirror’s surface. The gradual shift from slim and toned to thick and muscular gives you a minor surge of pleasure, and you can’t help but chuckle to yourself as that fog descends once more over your mind. “Time to work out, like a beast!” you growl as you pick up the dumbbells and start to lift. With each pump, you psyche yourself up with another phrase, repeating slogans over and over. “You are massive.” Pump. “You are big.” Pump. “You are powerful.” Lift. “You are growing.” Lift. “Growing bigger.” Grunt. “Growing stronger.” Growl. “Stronger muscle.” Pump. “Musclehead.” Good. “Big and buff.” Pump. “Coarse and gruff.” Grunt. “Just a bulky,” You grit your teeth. “Brawny,” Your chest heaves as sweat starts to bead on your skin. “Brute!” The roar tore through your throat, and it felt amazing. “Huhuhuh,” you rumble. “Fuck yeah.” Your phone buzzes on the stand, and you look down at the notification. Time to jump rope, DUMBASS. :p You chuckle again at the sight. Duff must’ve messed with your notifications, when you weren’t looking. You shake your head as you put the weights down and pick up the jump rope, glancing at your face briefly. “Dumbass.” You roll your eyes as you smile and then turn away to start your cardio. “I’ll show you who’s a dumbass.” You chuckle as the familiar clack of the rope snaps in your ears and the fog seeps in again.”Yeah, ... a real dumbass....”

You let out a titanic belch, after you finish another chug session on your protein shake, then place the container on the ground next to your feet. “So, yeah. Things are going great.” You flex a bicep and smirk. “As you can clearly see.” You lean back casually on the couch and spread your arms behind your head to form a makeshift headrest, while exposing your laterals under the Underarmor shirt that’s clinging to your torso. “Truth be told, I’m not so sure there’s much more you can teach me.” Doctor Schroder raised a brow archly. “Is that so?” “We’ve been reiterating and practicing for the last three months, Doc.” You reach up to scratch an itch on your pec and heave a sigh of relief and pleasure as it passes. “It’s literally just one line that we’ve been reciting over and over again, almost mindlessly, with a few splits to other pieces of dialogue to avoid boredom. Well, news flash, I’m bored.” “I suppose that means you’re bored of your contract, too?” “No, I’m bored of having to come here. Like I said, Doc, you don’t really offer me anything anymore. I’ve had my vocal training, and you already said I can’t do hypnosis with you anymore. What’s left to do? You’re not my therapist, and even if you were, I wouldn’t want to talk about anything.” You stretch and let out a long groan. “So, the way I see it, logically speaking, that means we’re done.” You rise up from the couch and reach down to grab your bottle. “I’ll see myself out.” Then you pause a moment, turn, and encompass the doctor’s hand with both of yours. “And thank you for all your help.” Then you turn and walk out the door, leaving behind a speechless voice coach. You walk into the waiting room, where a startled Polynesian girl gapes up at you in some surprise. You just look at her, jerk your thumb behind you, and say, “She’s ready for you now.” Then you swagger out the door with that confident stride, shoulders back, chest jutting out. After all, it’s nice showing off all that muscle, now that the weather’s warming up a little bit. You flip open your cell phone and select the speed dial for Harry. “Yo, Harry, it’s me.” You could practically hear the grin in his voice as he calls your name. “How are you?” he asks. “I wasn’t expecting a call from you for another week or so.” You shrug as you clop down the stairwell. Might as well get some more cardio in. Besides, the elevators take forever. “Nothing much. I was just wondering if you could have a talk with that gym for me. I’ve pretty much finished with Schroder. She’s taught me all I need to know, and things are getting kinda boring and repetitive with her. I’m fine doing that with weights, but people and conversations? I can only do that so many times, if you catch my drift.” “Completely,” Harry agreed. “I’ll see what I can do. But I’ve gotta warn you, kid. They may not like what they hear.” Your mouth pulls up into a smirk. “That’s what I have you for.” Barry sighed, then chuckled helplessly. You could just picture the light shining off his head as he shakes it back and forth in his office. “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make any promises, kid.” You shrug. “I’m good with that.” A piece of static suddenly goes off in your ear and you wince briefly, before your face goes suddenly slack. You grip the rail loosely as you stand there, taking up the majority of the staircase. “Kid. Kid, can you hear me?” “I hear you,” you say in a low monotone. The world is spinning as a dizzying pleasure fills you up. Your voice echoes in your head as your mouth opens and your lips move, and even though you don’t think you wanted to say anything else, you ... somehow do. And then, suddenly, it makes sense why, even as you hear yourself saying it.“Tell them I’m willing to take those recordings, if they’ll drop Schroder.” Brilliant idea. Brilliant! “Now that’s something I may be able to work with! I’ll get right on it.” “Yeah. You do that,” you say dreamily. “Leave everything to me, kid. I’ll call you back as soon as I get the details. You just focus on your role.” Focus on the role. “Yeah. I’ll ... do that.” “See ya, kid.” “See ya....” The phone clicked with the end of the call, and the fog lifted immediately. You shake your head, confused as you sway on your feet, grasping the railing with one free hand. “That was ... odd,” you mutter to yourself. You shake your head one more time, return your phone to your pocket, retrieve your bottle from your gym bag to guzzle a few gulps of your protein shake, then resume your descent. A smile pulls at your lips as you begin to bring your legs higher and higher. “Let’s make this interesting,” you mutter. Then you’re high-kneeing your way down the stairs, puffing rhythmically out your chest as you feel the vibration of each impact racing up your legs. The smile soon widens into a grin. “Much better.”

Back in his small corner office, Harry smirked as he laid the receiver down. He leaned back in his swivel chair and let out a contented sigh as he looked over to the tape recorder he’d played into his phone’s mic. He reached into the drawers and pulled out the CD you’d shoved back at him just a few weeks prior. Then he pulled up his contacts and scrolled briefly, until he found the right number. The receiver rung once, twice, and then someone picked up. “Hey, Harry here again. I played the trigger. Kid responded just like you’d hoped. He wants to quit working with the Schroder dame, in exchange for taking the recordings, though. Says he’s learned all he can from her.” He paused to listen for a time, then nodded. “Good. I’m glad that doesn’t complicate things. I assume I can expect the next milestone payment in my account in the next twenty-four hours?” His smile widened into a sneer. “Of course. It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mister Harrison.”