Lifting Up And Dumbing Down Part 25

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.”

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 24

You grunt as you press through your tenth rep and look up at Hank. “Think you can add another ten on the rack? This is getting too easy again.” Hank smirked. “Look at you, getting all cocky.” “Not cocky, confident,” you correct as he grabs two five pound weights and places them on either side of the barbell. “I want to keep progressing, so if this is getting too easy, then I know to up the ante. You taught me that.” “And you’re learning it well.” “Was that an actual compliment?” “Would I do that?” “I think you would.” Hank rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, smartass. Now get back to work. Those weights aren’t going to lift themselves.”

You smile to yourself as you continue to pump with one arm, while you run your vacuum cleaner with the other. The surge of blood through your limbs has become almost addicting to you now, and you keep wanting to feel that pressure as your muscles press against your sides. Each strain is another surge of pleasure as the muscles on your side strain and flare in time. Occasionally, you bounce a pec, just for the sake of variety. You pause a moment, shutting down the vacuum to pose in front of the mirror. Your emerald singlet clings tightly to every piece of your body, defining the muscle as you let out that same deep-throated chuckle. “Who’s a muscle man?” You ask yourself. After a few seconds to change poses, you let out another groan of pleasure and relief as you stretch, shifting your hold on the weight to your other side. Then you reply, “You’re a muscle man, and damn proud of it.” You look down at the bulge pressing against the crotch of your singlet. The outline of the jock strap you’re wearing is prominent, and you smirk as you tromp over to your weight rack and put down the dumbbell, before picking up your cell phone. You turn it towards the mirror, and Flash. You look down at your phone screen. A familiar smirk stares back up at you. “Looking good,” you compliment yourself. You’re about to turn back to your vacuum cleaner to finish the living room, when a sudden lurching in your stomach yanks you back towards the mirror. “Maybe just ... one more,” you allow yourself. Flash. Show off that muscle. Flash. So good. Flash. To pose. Flash. Like the camera. Flash. Fängsla’s camera. Click. “Show me muscle man. Show me the djur,” his voice echoes in your head. Flash. “Let the djur out. Let the djur stay.” Flash A pleasurable rumbling grates its way up your throat and out your mouth as thoughts of cleaning fade into the background. “Stay,” you low, and are rewarded by greater pleasure. You look down at a dimwitted grin, then look at the mirror to see the same features reflected on your face. “Huhuhuh,” you chuckle as you reach up and rub your bicep. Flash. A shudder runs through your body as you pose again. The taste of vanilla is strong in your mouth, and you look down to see the image of your flushed face guzzling a huge bullet cup of protein shake. You belch, not even trying to contain it. “Nice one,” you mutter almost drunkenly as you kick the bullet cup out of the way and walk back towards your makeshift home gym. You lower your phone to the stand and grasp both weights. It’s time to work out.

... Like a beast. ... Like a djur. ... .. .

Lifting Up and Dumbing Down Part 18

You grunt as you thrust repetitively at the weight on your shoulders, squatting up, then down. Up, then down. Your new compression shorts feel tight against your thighs and glutes, letting you feel every last piece of tension in your muscles as you continue to press. And tight is good. You’ve already gained a good three pounds of muscle from the last few weeks, giving your lithe body a thicker build as the circumference of your muscles began to increase. You weren’t anywhere near the other builders yet, but you’d made a good start, and the fact Hank wasn’t yelling at you so much implied you’d made some progress with your discipline. “Gotta admit, kid, I didn’t expect you to stick with it this far,” Hank grunted. “You’re not the first model they picked, ya know.” “So, what, you’re telling me they were scraping the bottom of the barrel, when they chose me?” You feel the now-familiar smolder in your chest as your anger begins to rouse. But you’re in the middle of a set, and you know better than to interrupt that, so you push it into your muscles, instead, to power through the exercise. “I wouldn’t call it scraping the bottom.” Hank shrugged. “You’re just number ten or so, I think. The others wimped out, after the first couple of weeks. But you, kid, you’re different. It takes real dedication to keep up this kind of routine. Not many would. I’ll admit I didn’t think you’d have what it takes, but here you are, proving me wrong.” You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “Okay, what’re you trying to butter me up for?” Hank couldn’t help but let out an explosive guffaw. “Kid, you’d have made one hell of a linebacker, with that attitude.” “Not a footballer,” you grunt as you round out your second set. “I’m a body builder.” A sudden shudder passes through you, and a familiar tingling spreads from your crotch. Hank cocked his head and stroked his scruffy chin, passively flexing his massive bicep and pectoral. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Not yet,” he said, after a good ten seconds of silence, “but I think you’re going to be.”

“He actually said that to you?” Duff balked as you sat at your usual seat by the restaurant. Your new jeans felt a little on the loose side, after moving up from your previous size, but that was the point of the workouts in the first place. They didn’t call it body building for nothing. You fidgeted uncomfortably in your new large shirt. The sleeves kept brushing against your skin and the sight of the folds when you tucked it into your waist with the belt left you with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. It was uncomfortable before, but ... you find yourself missing the feeling of those old clothes pulling so tightly against your body. “Yeah,” you reply as you sip from the tall glass of water the waitress left you. You’d quit drinking sodas a while ago. Too much sugar. You already got enough from the shakes and what you find naturally in food, so why take more than you have to? “Dude, do you have any idea how many bodybuilders would kill to be in your shoes right now?” “It’s not that big of a deal,” you brush it off casually as you look over the menu. The burger was always good, but you had a hankering to try something new today. “Not a big deal? He’s all but offered to be your personal coach!” You shrug. “Isn’t that what he is right now, anyways?” Duff smacked his forehead. “I mean after your contract’s done, stupid.” “Who’re you calling stupid? I’m not the one who zones out every time he lifts weights.” “It’s called mental training, dumbass,” he shot back hotly. “What’d you just call me?” “You heard me.” That did it. The loud screech of metal legs on wood sounded as the both of you stood at once to butt heads. “There’s just one way to settle this,” Duff snorted. His whole body was tense, his muscles pulsing from his increased heart rate. “What?” you snarl back. The smoldering in your chest had been fanned into a virtual inferno. Duff slammed himself back onto his chair and scooted it up to the table. Then he removed his cup and placed it on the floor, before ramming his upper arm on the table’s surface at an obtuse angle. His hand laid open expectantly. The gauntlet had been thrown, and you weren’t about to back down from a fight. You follow his example, prepping the table for what was to come. Your eyes narrow as you wiggle your fingers menacingly. “Are you two ready to--?” “Teriyaki and rice,” you both echo in stereo, never breaking eye contact. “Oh, um ... right. Anything ... else?” The two of you turned to fix your angry glares on her. She got the message and beat a hasty retreat. “What happened to your burger?” Duff asked as he leaned more heavily on his arm, adjusting his position in final preparation. “Wanted to try something new.” You shrug as you work your arm a few times, pumping it to loosen some of the stiffness and increase circulation. “Seemed a good choice, all that lean protein. And you said the sauce was good stuff. Thought I’d see if the hype was all it was cracked up to be.” “You’ll see soon enough.” He narrowed his gaze in an attempt to sharpen his glare. “Come on.” “Oh, I’m coming.” You grit your teeth in an angry snarl and clasp your hand to his, wrapping your fingers around the back of his thumb, even as he did the same with yours. It wasn’t much of a fight. You’d been making great gains, but Duff had been lifting longer and he had more training. You managed to hold your ground for a whole fifteen seconds, before the strain became too much and Duff gained the advantage. Your arm trembled as you struggled to push back against your opponent, but despite your zeal and your valiant attempts, your trembling hand finally touched the end of the table, and you let out an explosive breath as Duff lets go. “Fuck!” you curse. Then your eyes widen as you realize what you just said and quickly put a hand to your mouth. “Sorry.” Duff chuckled. “I wondered how long it’d be, before you finally stopped being so formal, dumbass.” “Quit it,” you grumble sulkily. Duff smirked as he reclaimed his water from the floor. “Whatever you say, bro. Whatever you say.”

“Whatever you say....” you mutter dreamily as you stand before a floor-length mirror, staring into your reflection. A towering bodybuilder stares back with that familiar intensity you’ve become so accustomed to seeing at the gym. A pair of compression shorts clings to stocky calves and bulky thighs, while a massive sleeveless tank strains against his bovine torso. The thing had to be at least a XXL. “You are a big, dumb bodybuilder,” he says in that bovid voice. “You lift things up and put them down.” “I am....” “A big, dumb bodybuilder.” “A big, dumb bodybuilder....” you parrot. “You lift things up and put them down.” “I lift things up and put them down.” “That is all you do. Lift things up and put them down. Lift weights up, drop voice down.” You feel a sudden weight in your hands. “I lift things UP,” you crack, “drop voice d-OWN.” Another crack and suddenly, your voice is huskier, deeper. “Up and down. Up and down.” You start pumping in time to the voice. “Listening up as your thoughts slow down. Pumping up and dropping down. Deeper and deeper. Deep, like my voice. Slower and slower, like your thoughts. Because bodybuilders don’t need to think. Bodybuilders need to lift. You lift things up and put them down. You pump muscle up and put brains down. Because you don’t need to focus on big thoughts right now. You need to focus on big muscles. Big muscles grow by lifting. Lifting up and putting down. You’re beginning to feel it now, aren’t you? The more you lift, the bigger you get, the less you think ahead. Because you don’t need to think ahead. You just need to lift things up and put them down. All you want to do is lift things up and put them down.” “I....” “And the bigger you get, the stronger the urge becomes to lift things up and put them down. Because you are building muscle. You are pumping it up into your brain, burning those useless thoughts away like so much fat. Replacing them with what you really need to know, what stands at the core of your being, the real meat that’s left behind. “You are a big, dumb bodybuilder.” “I ... am a big, dumb bodybuilder.” “You want to be a big, dumb bodybuilder.” “I want to be a big, dumb bodybuilder.” “You lift things up and put them down.” “I lift things up and put them down.” The repetition feels so wonderful. And all the while, you’re pumping, pumping. “You don’t think. You act.” “Don’t ... think.” “Because dumb bodybuilders like you aren’t supposed to think. You just do what your coaches tell you to do.” “Do ... what I’m told....” “Up the weights, up the gains. Put down old thoughts. Put down the brains.” You can’t help it. A dimwitted chuckle escapes your lips, and it feels so right. Your reflection is lifting with you now, and he’s pumping some serious iron. You hear the clank, look to your right. Now you’re pumping some serious iron. You hardly even noticed how your arms were suddenly bare or how tight your pants had become again. You smirk at the mirror, and your reflection follows your example. “I lift things up and put them down,” you say in stereo, and you laugh again, because it feels right. “I really am a dumbass,” you guffaw. “Huhuhuhuh.” You enjoy that feeling for you don’t know how long, before a strange sort of fog descends over your mind. Everything fades away. You blink once. Twice. Three times. And suddenly you’re back in Doc Schroder’s office. You look down at your diminutive frame in disappointment. Compared to what you were in trance, this is just a sliver. But at least that fake you gives you something to work towards. And you are going to work for it. “Welcome back,” Schroder says. “Tell me. Have you gotten a better feel for your character yet?” You chuckle, still feeling the familiar tingle from the hypnosis-induced dream. “You could say that.” “Good. I thought you might. In that case, it’s time we focused on practicing in real life. I don’t think you’ll need me to put you under anymore.” You frown. “But I liked that.” “Most of my patients do,” she noted, “but I’m not here to give them pleasure. I’m here to help them achieve their roles. I’m here to help you achieve yours.” She looked seriously at you. “You’ve been getting a little too comfortable with the bodybuilding stereotype of late. I’ve seen it in the way you talk, the way you move. You need time to focus yourself again. Until you do, I don’t feel comfortable putting you through any more hypnotic sessions. And besides that, if you’ve already achieved the voice range that you’re looking for, then there’s no further need of it. I’ll be expecting those files back next session, young man. No ifs, ands, or buts.” “But--.” She raised a stern hand, and her eyes flashed as the light above turned her hair into a fiery halo. “I mean it. Make sure to bring it in. If you don’t, I’ll have to take measures.” You sigh in defeat, slumping your shoulders as you lean back against the couch. “Yes, ma’am.” “Good. Now, then, let’s go over those lines again, shall we?”

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.

Working Like a Thrall Chapter 1

This is best shown as a PDF, so if you’d all just follow this link here, you should hopefully be able to read it as intended. I’ll be including a brief introductory portion below that pertains to the story from the librarian’s perspective, so please read it, before you go to the document. Thanks. :D P.S. This does get a bit on the mature side in some places. You have been warned.

Azeroth had been safe for the last six years, after the first great war ended. The dreaded Horde was defeated, its armies pushed back, and its gateway destroyed. Unfortunately, that was not to last. The Horde returned, and it was out for revenge. Many men, women, and children fell victim to this great and terrible foe in their second and most ruthless campaign to date. This is but the narrative of one such victim, whose word was sadly unheeded. The fate he has faced may be deemed too terrible for words. Peruse this narrative with caution, reader, for it is not for the faint of heart, and some small piece of the Horde's foul essence still remains bound within these pages. You are still determined to read it? ... Very well, then. You have been warned.