Local Boy Too Unfocused To Stick To A Hobby, Dabbles Between Wanting To Be An Artist, Activist And Bodybuilder;

Ready for Master’s inspection.

-Arturo

When was the first time you realized what you were becoming? Was it the first time you flipped your baseball cap around without thinking about it? The first time you took scissors to the sleeves of all your t-shirts and turned them into muscle shirts for the gym? Was it when you went to go get dressed one morning and you realized all you had to wear was sports gear and gym clothes?

How about the first time you drove to the gym at 1 AM, when you were the only one there, because you couldn’t get to sleep without feeling the pump in your muscles? Or when you started slamming back protein shakes before and after every meal, or when you threw out all the junk food in your pantry and replaced it with expensive supplements and protein bars?

Was it last weekend, when instead of your usual morning news shows, you realized you had a football game on in the background as you were doing your meal prep for the week? Was it this morning when you realized your gym playlist had become mostly hip hop and hard rock instead of your usual dance and pop music tracks?

Think about it. When was the first time you realized that you were becoming a jock? Or have you even realized it yet?

Always makes me horny to read of other guys sharing the same path. Soon that’ll be you, @jae-secret. 😈

A bunch of complete strangers recorded and posted some dumb muscle motivation hypnosis mp3s that absolutely did not hypnotize me. I don't even know why I kept listening to them. I have no idea why I work out five or six days a week, why I'm looking forward to the gym all day every day, why I'm starting to resent rest days. Fuck. I just got home from the gym, and I'm already kinda longing to go back. But good boys need rest as much as good boys need to work out, right? Even if my muscles are itching to be used.

The days I feel like crap? I used to use that to justify not going in. Now, I know from experience that no matter how I feel going in, I'm gonna come out of that workout feeling fantastic, with aching muscles and a big shit eating grin on my face. The shittier my day, the more I look forward to my workout. So many wasted bad days that I could have turned into great days!

I'm hovering in front of mirrors for longer and longer. At home, in the gym, hell, in store windows I'm passing. Can't help flexing. It feels so fucking good!

Nowadays, for me, gifs and videos of guys working out in the the gym are hotter than 95% of the porn out there. So I made this Tumblr.

Take a good look at yourself in the mirror and realize what you have become. Face it. You’re a jock. A big, dumb jock. Everything you see reflected back at you confirms it. The square face, the jacked body. The backwards cap, the muscle shirt. The swagger, the way you insist on asserting your dominance in the gym and in everything that you do.

Everybody who sees you knows it for a fact, and it’s time for you to finally accept it for yourself….

Forget everything you know about who you were before….

Forget all about that weakling, that fucking pussy that you were before….

That old part of you doesn’t exist any more…. It never did….

This is you now… This is how you have always been.

For the past four years, I have sat here on this account, reblogging all the guys I found hot or guys that I wished I looked like. For the past four years, I sat here jacking off to guys, longing to be as muscular, as huge, as ripped as these men. For the past four years, I have not come any closer to becoming that muscle bull I have always desired to be. That is, until this week.

I saw a post a little while ago from @jae-secret who talked about wanting to become jacked like the god Apollo, who wanted to become addicted to the gym. That just ignited something in me that had been dormant for ages. It created this fire, this insane drive for me to do the same as him, to become huge and obsessed with the gym and working out. That post was the key to awakening the beast inside me. I have seen many posts before where people have talked about what they want to become and what they are becoming but it never got to me. It just made me kinda horny honestly but never more than that. Jae’s post, however, spoke to me on a whole other level. Ever since then, I have felt like there are two minds that have been trying to exist at once in my head. One that is the old, boring me and one that is The Beast. They have been clashing and fighting and it has been very hard trying to stay focused and present in the moment. Now, The Beast is beginning to overpower the old me and it is the most blissful and best feeling in the entire world. It just feels right to let those primal instincts take over. Those instincts led me to @wildmusclebros who I began talking to. Their ideals, goals, and beliefs were exactly what I was looking for.

With inspiration and drive in hand, I signed up for the gym. On Tuesday, I took the plunge and drove to the gym. I was so excited, so pumped to begin my journey. I got there, parked, and could not move a muscle. My anxiety had kicked in, something I’ve dealt with all my life. Crippling me, the anxiety took hold of my mind, erasing any kind of motivation or happiness I just had. All I felt was fear. Fear to do anything. I sat there, frozen in my car, wishing I could just go in. The gym was right there, I was one step away from breaking free from my life of dullness, one step away from being exactly who I wanted to be.

30 minutes went by and I gave up. I could not push past the anxiety living inside of me. I felt useless, worthless, and defeated. I felt worse than I ever have about myself. I drove home feeling ashamed. I climbed in my bed and just stared, thinking about nothing. I spent most of the next day just feeling regret and disappointment. Then, I was reminded by wildmusclebros that I just need to take it easy and relax because the gym is just the gym. That stood out to me big time. The gym is just the gym, it isn’t the end of the world. The gym is full of people like me, who just want to workout. The gym is the place where I can feel most safe because it is full of people who all started out in the same place as me. I’m just at a different point than they are on the same line. That means that I can eventually get to that point other people are at. I can eventually get to the point where I am the biggest person in that gym and I can finally become what I feared. And that thought just makes me so undeniably horny and motivated.

So I went the next day. I still felt anxiety but I decided to let The Beast inside take control. I went through those gym doors with pride and it felt good. However, the anxiety stayed with me that whole time. I got on the treadmill and just walked. The anxiety began creeping into my mind but not nearly as bad as it had been the first night. The anxiety eventually found a way in and it prevented me from doing any weightlifting. But I still felt good.

Why though? I came to the gym to lift weights not walk on a treadmill. I can walk anytime I want at home. It’s because I went to the gym. I took my first steps into the gym. I checked in to the gym. I talked with the front desk guy. I went over and got on a treadmill, people neighboring me on both sides. I started the treadmill and walked for half an hour. I got off the treadmill. I walked out of the gym. All these acts were something I was not able to do before. They may be simple and easy but with the anxiety I have, these tasks are usually impossible. But I did it anyways. I conquered my anxiety, even though it was for a brief period of time. That’s why I felt good afterwards. Plus, I just felt so good having done physical activity, having gotten my body up and actually doing something.

It may take quite a long time for me to get fully accustomed to going to the gym without having anxiety, but I will fight to make that time as short as possible because it is all I want now. I know it isn’t going to be perfect from here on out either, but I can definitely put all my effort in to this and that is exactly what I am going to do. I am going to become a colossal muscle bull and no one, not even myself, is going to stop that.

Unleash The Beast 💪

Warriors, gather around the fire!

Unleash the beast within.

Turkish Oil Wrestling

MEN are born to FIGHT

#TheDapperExecutive

There’s strength in number. Strength in leaning in on your musclemate to let yourself be transformed. He extends an arm. You know what to do. Get in position. You thought this morning’s workout was over. You feel drained. But He’s seen there’s a few more reps in you. He will pull them out from you, forcing you to surpass yourself. He already commanded you to take your shirt off. It’s been a long time you’ve stopped being ashamed of working out without wearing a top. In the rising heat of the morning, he’s making you sweat. The stink of his pits mixes to yours. You’re starting to pull yourself up, holding on to him. You feel so connected. You belong there, in that moment. Reaching for greatness. Fully accepting of your gift, of his virility and yours. You’re getting stronger, bigger by the day. You smell like a man. Work out like a man. Eat like a man. And are getting hard like one, too.

That too has stopped being a source of embarrassment for you. There was a time where your conditioning had taught you to feel ashamed of your raging hormones. That’s no longer the case. Wear that hard cock proudly before the mate who is sculpting you. It makes you hard to be turned into the muscle god you aspired to be. Flaunt your pride.

And if your Owner decides to start milking you right here and there, as he commands you to hold the position, you’re not gonna complain, beast, will you?

Just because he’s my slave, doesn’t mean he stopped being the way he is. It would be really boring if he lost what made me attracted to him in the first place.

He’s still the same cocky son of a bitch that thinks he’s the greatest gift to the world. He’s still the same arrogant motherfucker that will do whatever he can to get hat he wants. He’s still the same bastard, full of himself, that prides himself on how amazing he is.

The only difference is that now I’m the focus of his pride and his ego. He prides himself on serving me, he craves my attention and my desire, and when he’s with me all he wants is me, bending him over and fucking him, and cumming in his ass while he twitches in pleasure under my power.

And what can I say? He’s still really good at getting what he wants.

When he undresses like this, and shows me his body like this, and when he looks at me like this with all of him begging me to take him and use him, it’s really hard to resist. I usually give in and take him and do what he wants.

It’s what I want, after all. I’m the one making him want it.

He wants my cock to suck it. He wants my body to serve it. He wants my cum inside him reminding him whom he belongs to. His source of pride is knowing that he’s my property and my sex slave.

And when he looks at me like this, when he offers himself to me like this, I have no option but giving it to him.

Just because he’s my slave doesn’t mean that he changed. He’s still a cocky bastard at heart, and he always will be.

But now he’s mine. My cocky bastard, my arrogant submissive sex toy.

That’s how I like him.

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