You Would Quit Working To Be A Full Time Meathead

You would quit working to be a full time meathead

Reblog if you’d make the gym and gains your full time job — so we can find and sponsor you.

You would quit working to be a full time meathead

Reblog if you’d make the gym and gains your full time job — so we can find and sponsor you.

Juracy Neto and Felipe Aquino

Thank you, Sir.

-Arturo

Bro-Coded

It’s not like what you see in the movies. At least not for me. Or not yet.

If I’ve noticed anything annoying about hypnokink culture it’s the tendency sometimes to generalize too much from one person’s experience. Results, in short, may vary.

But presently I feel like I have bees buzzing in my head. Or like I did that time after the bar exam when I could not navigate my way out of a simple parking lot. Or like I just woke up from a long nap and have to separate out the events that occurred in my dreams from the waking world.

I am awake. I know what I’m doing and who I am. I am remembering everything. And I am writing these words.

But I have a list burning in my head, of things to do and not to do. A list that is strange because I did not put it there. I could ignore the list, sure. Now, I am more or less a competent adult. I have never met the list’s author, and I would not recognize him if I met him. There are no penalties here, not even those afforded by a slave contract. But the option of disobeying seems bad and confusing. Something about it makes my skin itch like a sunburn, and causes my gorge to rise a little.

Complying with the list though seems easy and obvious. Not beneficial or good, but obvious. And I know that as I comply, it will only get more easy and obvious to comply more. Compliance will reinforce compliance. That queue of tasks I am carrying around with me, that only I can see, will get stronger.

My submission will grow, with repetition, with work accomplished. Like a muscle, bro. And something else will atrophy. But right now that doesn’t seem terribly important. I even have trouble identifying it, putting a name to it.

And maybe, at some point further along, the notion that compliance is a choice won’t occur to me. Items on my list will appear, and I will do what they say, and it will all be very simple. That would be interesting.

24 hours Edging.

As always, the instructions were simple but hard to follow. My Master commanded me to edge for 10 minutes every hour for the next 24 hours and send him a pic as proof. There was just one thing I could say to that: Sir, Yes, Sir!

I was excited at first. Be available to touch myself, make myself hard and edge for 10 minutes it stop... and repeat again after 45 minutes sounded as heaven, but like everything with Fran... pleasure and torture is the same thing.

I started at Friday 9:00 pm. It was easy to get hard. My cock in my hand jerking slow and steady, enjoying every second. 10 minutes felt as 10 seconds. Then my Sir wrote me to stop touching me but my cock stayed hard for longer.

I repeat the same for the next couple hours. 10:00 pm. 11:00 pm. 12:00 pm... and then things started to get complicated.

That day I was awesome since four in the morning, so I had been for 20 hours awake already. I was tired, my eyes barely were open. I set alarms for every hours for the next six hours and felt asleep.

At 1:00 my alarm went off and I started to jerk off. Edging and producing precum. 10 minutes passed by, I send him a pic and went back to sleep. I did the same proses all night long. Sometimes I was already hard when I waked up. Sometimes I don’t even remember taking the pic, but was there. I jerked off and edged no out of lust. I did it because I’m an obedient Jocktoy. My body, mind and cock belong to my Master.

At 6:10 am, after send the pic I finally get up the bed and I made some coffee. I started my normal Saturday day... just with the difference of being naked and jerking off every hour.

As the day went by I was getting more and more horny every time. 45 minutes seemed as very long time to wait. I funded myself unavailable to do anything else... u just wanted to jerk off again. Feel my powerful (and sore now) cock on my hands. I crave to send a new pic to my Master. He wrote me several times during the day checking on me and to be sure I was following his instructions. Of course I was, I’m a good muscle boy.

That day is a blur in my mind. I just can remember the feeling of being an animal. A horny beast that wanted to be used and enjoy sexual pleasure. My cock got so sensitive, my balls so fucking full. The last couple hours my Master signed in Kik and was there with me the whole time. He give me instructions about how to jerk off and how he wanted his pics. I followed everything instruction... happily. I’m so hard right now writing this and reliving that day.

I was a piece of muscle meat. I was a sextoy. I was a muscle bull ready to be milked. I was my Master’s Jocktoy. My mind empty and my cock full. I had never felt so powerful and manly.

The last edge of the day we did it together. My Master and I jerked off at the same time. He told me to shut up and just jerk off while he wrote me encouraging words as we edged together. Master-Salve connected.

At the end he did not allowed me to cum. I did not care... whatever he said goes. We said goodbye. I said Thank you. And I slept deeply.

At the next day I was still tired, sore and very confuse. “What the fuck happened yesterday? It was all real or just a dream?” But then Kik chimed. I look at my phone. Was Fran sending me some of the pics I sending him last day... yep, everything has been real... and I was hard again.

-Arturo