Damn, It Was A Good Night Sleep. Must Have Fall Into A Deep, Heavy Slumber, But Something Doesnt Feel

Damn, it was a good night sleep. Must have fall into a deep, heavy slumber, but something doesn’t feel so right… Hold up, why do I actually feel heavier? I can feel a heaving mass on my torso, and to be honest - it felt great. My feet are dangling off the bed and my head’s on the headboard. Am I… taller? I need to see this for myself.

I dashed towards the bathroom mirror and I feel my thick feet propelling me towards that direction faster than I ever did before. The switch is at my chest level now. Fuck, is that my pecs? They are huge. Thick and protruding forward so far out. So manly, so powerful. Wait, lights - I need the lights. With a flick of the switch, my dream has turned into reality.

I’m a fucking muscle bull.

I threw up my arms and did a double biceps. It’s so natural now, like I’m meant to do it. My mind’s racing with relentless lust for muscles. My eyes linger on my impossibly jacked body. I must be 8% body fat or lower, that would explain the 8 packs that I’m sporting right now. The chiselled V line leads down to my ever larger genitals.

My grin grew large and wide, as my massive pecs aren’t the only thing that’s protruding so far out.

Oh shit, I can’t seem to stop the growth that I’ve accidentally activated! It’s adding a pound of muscle every second, and I’ll be too damn huge by the end of the hour. I need to do something about it before it’s too late, damn it!

Hey there, been an avid follower for your TF stories and would love to be a subject of your TF as well. I wish to be transformed into a big horny muscle bull, but I’m unaware myself. Slowly having issues with everyday clothes and addicted to eating more and lifting heavier. Not forgetting the relentless lust for more muscle too! Hope to hear from you soon!

Something odd was going on that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Over the past few weeks, you’ve been noticing that your rhythm had been thrown off the slightest bit. You worked as a fitness model-- your trimmed yet muscled frame blessed ads in magazines, with tons of adoring fans drooling over your proportional bod. You frequented the gym and made sure to watch your diet like a hawk.

Then one day, one of your photographers had made some weird offhanded comment about how you’d look hotter if you bulked up, which you’d brushed off.

That had seemed to be the catalyst for all the off happenings that you slowly began to notice.

It had started at the gym. You stuck to a strict workout regimen that was professionally designed to keep you slimmed and toned. However, there would be times when you would be performing curls in the mirror and then noticed at the end of your workout that the weights you’d been lifting had been far too heavy to achieve your desired results. What was even stranger was that they had felt lighter than your usual, like your strength was increasing dramatically.

Over the next few days, all your clothes had shrunk. It had to have happened in the wash, because whenever you looked in the mirror, you were always greeted with the slim muscleboy you were used to. However, none of your pants would fit over your legs and you could never seem to button them. Your shirts were even worse. Your sleeves would always slit apart when you yanked them on, and they always rode up your stomach, looking more like a crop top. You’d asked your assistant to go buy you some new clothes, telling him your size. However, he must’ve messed up because the clothes he’d brought you were ill-fitting as well. 

Lastly, you upped the frequency of your cheat days for your diet. You couldn’t help it. No matter how hard you tried to resist, you always strayed away from your salad and wound up ordering three large meat lovers pizzas-- devouring them entirely in one sitting. Luckily, your reflection in the mirror didn’t show any change since you still had a slender torso and a low body fat percentage.

When you went to a photoshoot run by the same photographer who’d told you to bulk up, you noticed the wide grin on his face when you walked in and stripped down to your bathing suit.

“Lookin’ real good,” the photographer smirked as he took numerous photos. “Real good.”

After the shoot, you looked at the pictures displayed on his monitor, seeing that a lot of them were of some bulky powerlifter. The man was massive. He had to have weighed well over three-hundred pounds with all that bulk he was carrying around. His musclegut protruded far out in front of him, totally obscuring any abdominals he had under them, and his cumbersome pecs were large mountains that rested atop his gut. His thick, bull neck was nearly swallowed by immense traps, creating the illusion that he was as tall as he was wide. This was only supported by his thick legs that pushed against each other, forcing the stud to adopt a wide stance. All of that manly muscle was so hot on the man, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly aroused the more you looked at the muscle mountain.

“Who’s that?” you asked the photographer, gesturing at the beefy stud on the screen.

The photographer just knowingly smiled as he ran his eyes up and down your frame. “My new star client,” he purred.

The gym your good husband goes to gives everyone a nickname based on what they do at the gym? Guess what his is?

I’m a toned white guy but I just can’t imagine why someone would want to look like some dumb, hairy, smelly guy with huge muscles??

Boy, give the idea a chance! Yes, you're the prom king, yes, your teeth are perfect, yes, your skin is flawless. But you're a wimp and a weakling. Well-trained? Maybe, but here in your new gym you're just one of the little wimps.

There are two of these stupid, hairy and smelly guys training next to you. They shout with every repetition. And after every set they fart so much you almost feel sick. One of the two guys shouts over to you to see if you have a problem. No, you're tolerant of Neanderthals, you mumble to yourself.

"Did you just call me a Neanderthal, college boy?" The beefcake is suddenly standing right behind you. Shit, did he hear you? "Then smell what a Neanderthal smells like!" he says and presses your face into his armpit. You try to hold your breath. But he doesn't let up. And then you can't help yourself. You gasp for air. For air that smells badly of sweat. The sweat from his armpit dampens your face. You breathe in again. And again. And lick his armpit. Damn, that's pure masculinity! He laughs boomingly. "Yes, you like that, college boy! Never call a man like you a Neanderthal again. And put some weight on the barbell. You're not a schoolgirl!" A man like you? What does he mean by that? Damn, you're getting hot. No wonder the other musclemen here are training bare-chested.

You double the weight on the bar. And you grunt with every repetition. Fuck, that was too much weight! You can't do the last repetition. The Neanderthals are standing behind you. "go, go, go!" He gives you a hand. You lift the barbell with the last of your strength. And roar your pain out of you.

Next exercise is your biceps. Sit in front of the mirror and start with the dumbbell curls. Yeak, let the muscles burn. You haven't moved as much weight as you have today. What the hell are you saying? You've been one of the big boys here for years. It's a good gym. Not for wimps. You love the smell of sweat and iron. And of cum in the changing rooms. After a workout, you're so full of testosterone that you have to cum. If you're lucky, with one of your bros. And if necessary, alone in the shower.

You love the bulking phase. Eat like a beast. Working out to the point of total exhaustion. And you don't need to shave your fur. Now you can be as hairy as you like. The time when you'll be smooth and oiled on stage will come soon enough.

Heck, you can be more than happy with the results of your training. You have to fart when you pose. Who cares, it happens to most people here. And nobody really cares what you smell like. The main thing is that you have the most powerful physique.

Found you pic @rickmuscleguy

The scary thing: my fantasy is coming true.  I find it harder to write, to push through that initial block, my brain isn’t as right-there as it used to be. 

Now there’s a layer of body awareness that I never had before that gets in the way, feeling the tiny tremors racing just underneath my senses, my body’s fibers having been stretched out and torn and re-supplemented.  A whole cascading network of failures and subsequent re-structurings.  If I pay close attention, I can feel the entire foundation of my body straining, sore, vibrating with exertion.  Certain movements, back, forth, standing up, pushing through an already sore muscle, are constant triggers of the activity that caused it.  I, for a second, return to the moment when the muscle tore, the exercise I was struggling through.

I have, in other words, learned to ignore my mind, and as a result, it is less available to me when I need it.  My body is slowly taking over.  Instead of listening to my brain when it screams STOP after 8 reps, but I grit my teeth and shove through another 7. 

Casual conversations almost always include the gym.  “Any plans for your Wednesday?” asks the checkout clerk at the grocery store, where I am purchasing something huge with insane protein. 

“I just got done at the gym,” I say, even though it’s got to be obvious from the way I am dressed and slightly flushed and a little bit exultant.  It’s hard to hide the pride in my voice.  A dim, far-off part of me wants to flex as punctuation.  “So I am gonna go home and mow this burrito down and have my shake and then maybe go for a bike ride.”  I talk almost thoughtfully, as though considering the whole range of physical activity available to me.  Gotta get swole, my internal voice adds.  Swole for summer, swole for the beach.  Sun’s out guns out, hahaha.

My trainer laughs and says things like, “Soon you’ll have to get one of those tanks that say I Flexed and the Sleeves Fell Off or Welcome to the Gun Show!”  He’s joking, of course, but inside I’m thinking Fuck yeah.  He of course doesn’t know that one has already been ordered and I’m just waiting for the right time to wear it out in public.

Seems like I’m almost always talking about the gym.  A co-worker the other day said, seeing me out of work clothes and in basketball shorts and Nikes (the black and volt yellow trainers) “Of course you were at the gym.  That’s the only thing you do outside of work.”  And there’s that swelling sensation again, something inside that wants to flex and chant about being swole and it’s kind of hilarious, so I laugh a little bit, and it comes out strange, a kind of chuckle but like, a grunting?  Like a huh-huh-huh kinda laugh.  Weird.  Brush it off and head on home to make the shake and rest up for leg day.

Leg day is brutal, and just like everyone else you see on Instagram and Facebook and whatever, I talk about leg day all the time.  I walk a little funny, probably exaggerate it a little bit, say “Oh, fuck, yeah, yesterday was leg day and I am feelin it today, bro.”  The bro just kinda slips in there, sometimes I slip it in there once in awhile, and I can’t tell if I’m doing it on purpose or if it’s happening because it wants to, like the internal voice is kinda taking over.  Gettin swole.  And it’s been about four months since I started and shit is happening, for real, and it’s kinda weird, but it’s also sorta what I wanted when I started, too.  At first. 

I mean, no one wants to be dumb, not really, no, not even you, and you sometimes entertain the possibility that you might be kinda dumb already, because there’s always somebody smarter than you, you just haven’t met them yet, and that’s enough to kind of, trip your brain up, you know, kinda, shove it down flat and knock the air out of it.  And while it’s getting back up, wheezing, you can’t remember if its its or it’s and that’s kinda hot but also a little odd and makes you panicky … but if you just exhale, just take a deep sigh, what was it again you were focusing on?  If I try to focus, the first thing I feel is the aches of my muscles re-assembling themselves, building like stormclouds under my skin, and the little thunders of aches when I move from sitting to standing. 

So it’s hard to write about this because it’s just that my brain is becoming another muscle, but not one that I’ve been working out alot.  Tripped myself up there.  Kinda tired cuz I pushed real hard today at the gym and ate a bunch of food.  Body wants to rest, brain thinking doing too much energy from body and muscles are more importanter than thinking maybe Ill jerk off real quick and take a nap and let my muscles grow more yeah that’s a good idea just breathing easier and letting mu muscles grow more cuz gotta get swole gotta get big thats right get swole ….