Musclemorph - Tumblr Posts

> Naciss' Story <

Naciss was obsessed with his own beauty. Every day, he stood before a mirror, admiring his well-toned body. Yet he longed for more – ever more muscles. One day, he discovered an old mirror in a shop. The shopkeeper told him that the mirror was magical. Fascinated, Naciss bought the mirror and brought it home.

As soon as he arrived, a voice whispered from the mirror: "Naciss, I know your desire. I can make you more muscular. But in return, you must stop looking at yourself. Each time you see your reflection, your muscles will shrink twice as fast as I have made them grow." Naciss hesitated briefly, but the temptation was too great. "I agree!" he declared.

In the following days, he felt his muscles growing. His clothes became tighter; his body felt more powerful. But the urge to gaze upon his new self became overwhelming. He removed the cloths with which he had covered all the mirrors. Yet as soon as he glimpsed his reflection, he felt his muscles dramatically begin to shrink. Panic seized him. "No!" he shouted, turning away.

His body was now noticeably slimmer than before. Desperately, he avoided all reflections from then on – window panes, shiny surfaces – and ventured out only at night. But the world was full of reflections, and again and again he caught a glimpse of himself: in a puddle, in a shop window, in the gleaming surface of a car. Each time, the shrinking began anew. Naciss became increasingly paranoid.

In a fit of rage and despair, he confronted the magical mirror. "Take back the deal!" he shouted. The mirror replied coldly, "A pact is a pact. You made your choice."

In fury, Naciss struck the mirror with his bare fists. The glass shattered into a thousand shards. He felt a sharp pain in his eyes, clutched his face, and sank to the ground. Darkness enveloped him – he was blind.

The pain was unbearable, but he also felt his muscles growing. Destroying the mirror had not broken its magic. Horrified, Naciss realized that without the ability to see, he could never again behold his reflection. The magic of the mirror would now let his muscles continue to grow unhindered.

> Jay's story – part 1 <

It began with a letter. No return address, just a promise to solve my financial troubles, an address, and instructions to show up the next morning at a specific time. I could have ignored it, but what did I have to lose? With creditors breathing down my neck and a life that brought me nothing but misery, that letter seemed like a final chance.

The address led me to a rundown building in a deserted alley. Inside, a staircase descended into a cold, sterile world of concrete. A heavy metal door slammed shut behind me, leaving me alone – or so I thought. The apartment I was led to was luxurious, but something felt off. Surveillance cameras in nearly every corner. Only the sterile lighting above, keeping every hour the same.

The voice of the "savior" was all I ever heard. It came from the speakers embedded in the ceiling. "Welcome, Jay. From today, everything will change."

At first, it was easy. Too easy, I thought. The savior never spoke to me personally, yet his voice echoed through the speaker, giving me commands. "You will eat, train, and sleep. Your debts will be paid. All you have to do is follow my orders."

It sounded simple enough. My mind was occupied with other things – debts, creditors' calls, and the endless feeling of failure that followed me everywhere. If I just got through this, everything would get better, I thought. This was only temporary. I convinced myself I would remain in control.

The voice told me what to eat. Every day, massive amounts of food were delivered through a hatch in the wall. The portions grew larger and larger. At first, I struggled with every bite, but the savior’s warning lingered over me: "Eat more. You will grow. Your debts will disappear."

It almost felt comforting to have no decisions to make. Not having a choice meant I couldn’t make mistakes, right? But then came the doubts. What did he really want? Every time I stared at the speaker in the ceiling, I wished he would reveal himself. “Why are you doing this?” I asked aloud one day, my voice bouncing off the bare walls. But the answer was always the same: "It’s not important, Jay. Trust me. Follow the instructions."

> Jay's story – part 2 <

And I did. It seemed the easiest way out. Debt-free, strong body, new opportunities. What could possibly go wrong?

After a few weeks, my body began to change. It happened slowly but steadily. The muscles in my arms, shoulders, and back – they grew in ways I could have never imagined. I couldn’t deny it – I liked it. Every time I looked in the mirror, I felt a little stronger, a little… more significant. I wanted more. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was the right path.

"You will continue to grow," the voice often said when I questioned whether this was all necessary. "Trust the process." It was always the same – the monotonous commands from the speaker, drawing me deeper into this new routine. And I followed.

But something inside me began to shift. It wasn’t just my body that was changing – it was my mind. Before, I might have fought back, resisted the commands, but now… Now it felt good to not have to decide. It was as if I had finally found what I had always been looking for: someone to tell me what to do. Someone to take over because I just couldn’t handle it myself. Wasn’t this proof? If I could manage my life, I wouldn’t have ended up in this situation.

Over time, I not only enjoyed the physical transformation but also the surrender of control. It was so much easier to follow instructions. No thinking. No deciding. No risk of making mistakes. All I had to do was obey, and everything would work out on its own.

The voice ordered me to take steroids, and I complied without hesitation. I watched my body grow faster and faster, my muscles bulging under my skin, and with each new dose, the desire to make decisions faded further. Why would I even want to? It was easier to leave it to the savior. He knew what was best for me. Better than I ever did.

Sometimes, after a workout, I would catch myself enjoying my own submission as I flexed my enormous muscles in the mirror. What’s wrong with me? I would ask myself as I gazed at my grotesquely transformed body. But instead of rebelling, I felt aroused. It was a twisted excitement, a mixture of fear and lust, pulling me deeper into this abyss. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t stop.

> Jay's story – part 3 <

“You will continue, Jay,” the voice would say whenever doubts crept in. “You will grow stronger, and you will be freer as long as you follow me.”

Freer? That was the irony of it all. With every passing day in this apartment, with every workout, with every meal, I felt less like a person and more like a tool. But part of me wanted exactly that. What if I had never been capable of making my own choices?

Then the day came when the voice announced that my debts were paid. "You’re free, Jay," it said. "You’re free to leave." The idea of leaving suddenly felt strange. I had forgotten that I could leave. The cameras, the constant lighting, the speakers – they had become my world.

"Or," the voice continued, "you can stay. If you stay, you will keep growing. You will never have to make decisions again. You will never make mistakes again. You will belong to me. But it’s your choice."

I looked at the mirror and could barely recognize my own body. I wasn’t human anymore, not really. A mountain of muscle. A freak. But at the same time, I was perfect – in a grotesque way. I had always thought that one day I’d regain control of my life. But now, when given the choice, it seemed ridiculous. Why? I can’t handle it. He has given me everything I ever needed.

I stood before the door leading to freedom, but I couldn’t raise my hand to open it. Freedom? Me? What would I do with it? My entire life had been one failure after another, one bad decision after another. Here, I was safe. Here, I couldn’t fail.

"I…" I whispered, but the words stuck in my throat. What if I made the wrong choice? The fear of freedom, of responsibility, washed over me. I looked back at the ceiling, where the voice always guided me, where the savior resided, though I had never seen him.

And then, I understood. It didn’t matter what he wanted. It didn’t matter why he was doing this. The only thing that mattered was that I didn’t have to choose anymore. I couldn’t. And that was okay.

"I’ll stay," I finally whispered. And I hoped it would be the last free decision of my life.

Hi again Tumblr! I quit back in the exodus, but figured it's time to get back since they've allowed nudity now 😊 Enjoy a morph!

Psst, I used to be either baralife or galzar back then

The Cage

Arturo saw the cage´s door open. Part of him did not want to go inside, but the other part knew was the best idea. That duality always fighting. No winner, no loser, just an inner fight. He looked at the cage and then to Fran again.

"Come on, go inside, you have to do it," said Fran with a calm voice.

Arturo knew he was right and stepped inside.

Fran closed to door behind him and put the double chain and lock. Arturo´s breathing started to go faster. Maybe it was a bad idea after all. Panic incressed. Arturo grabs the bars with both hands and shakes them.

"Fran, let me out. I don't want to be here. Open de door... open it!"

"Arturo, look at me. Calm down, breath. Breath. You HAVE to be there. Soon everything will be over. Tomorrow the sun will rise and you, and everybody else will be fine. Ok?"

Fran´s voice calmed Arturo down. Breath. He sat on the floor and waited. In a couple minutes the moon would be on the zenith and it will start.

Fran sat in a chair at a fair distance from the cage and waited too. Any of them talked.

Fran almost fell to sleep when Arturo suddenly started groaning. Fran got on his feet and look at Arturo. This part was fascinating for Fran. Arturo was laying on the floor. His body was shaking and drops of sweat cover his face. The groaning became louder and louder. Pain and anger. His fists hit the floor. He got in his knees, and after that, struggling, he managed to get in his feet. Then the bones cracked. One single loud crack and Arturo was now 8.5 feet tall. Fran, almost under a hypnosis, walked towards the cage. Fran had seen that transformation dozens of times but always was captivating to see such power comes to life. Arturo grabbed the bars to the cage to enduring the pain and stay standing.

"Now the muscles" whispered Fran to nobody.

Arturo´s muscles started to move like something was under them. And they grow, and grow, and grow. His new body ripped his clothe off in pieces. In front of Fran was Arturo, but was not Arturo anymore, now was a muscled beast. Pure fury and primal instinct. Arturo now was the Bull, as Frans liked to call it. And for the last months, Frans was trying to tame that bull...

Finally, the transformation was complete and the Bull stood proud and powerful. He looked around him. The cage. Then he became aware of Frans presence. In a fast movement, the Bull extended his enormous arms thru the bars trying to grab Fran´s neck. Fran jumped back just in time to escape from his fists.

"Easy, easy... you are not going to kill me that fast, you monster," Said Fran in a playful way.

Fran looked at the Bull´s eyes. Was intimidating, but not to Fran, not anymore. And with an authoritative voice, he told him "Step back from the door"

The Bull did not move.

"Step back!!"

The Bull groaned and start shaking the cage. Looked like the cage and the whole cabin would colaps, but Fran quickly learned from the first nights so now he was sure that everything will contain the monster.

"Alright. Fuck you" Said Fran and walked away from the room. For a couple minutes Fran stayed in the other room listing the Bull groaning and roaring. For one moment he thought the Bull will break the chain, but everything stayed still. When finally the Bull calmed down, Fran got back in front of him and looking him to the eyes.

"Calm down. Calm down. I'm your Sir. Do you understand? We have been thru this... I´m-Your-Sir."

The Bull looked at Fran and did not move.

"I'm going to open the door. Do you understand? And you will control yourself. I WILL control you."

The Bull did not move. Just his pecs when up and down while he filled his lungs with air. That was the reason Fran came up with the name of Bull.

Fran took the key and opened the lock. Slowly he took the chain of the door. This is it, though Fran. And then he opened the door.

The Bull growl like never before and when to attack Fran. But Fran did not move. He stared into his eyes and commanded. "Stop!!"

And the Bull did.

They have one second looking at each other's eyes... but with that second everything falls in his place. Everyone knew from now on his place.

"Good boy," said Fran. "Now get in your knees"

The Bull did.

Fran grabs the same chain and lock that he used in the cage´s door and put then around the Bulls neck.

Fran contemplated the muscled beast that he had in his knees in front of him. That powerful Bull, tamed by him. "I did it," Said Fran. "I fucking did it" The Bull was his, he owned his personal beastly musclegod.

"Now, let's have some fun," Said Fran to his toy and smiled.

When everything revolves around getting big, you hear no compaints from me

" I mean it's a great peak but the other girls arms are at least 5 inches bigger, just gotta keep growing"

Being as muscular as she is, Rachel embraced her dominant nature and took on an extra job on the side, a Dominatrix. She quickly became one of the preferred woman at the club. She brought in so many clients that the owners put in a private gym in her room so that she could not only get her workouts in as often as she'd like, but keep her pump up for all clients. She liked the attention but mostly, she liked the extra money she was able to pull in. More money means more drugs for growing bigger.

Warm up's done by crazydan28

Caleb has only one thing on his mind; becoming a muscle freak beyond limits.