Alpha Musk (A True Story)

Community.

Local boy too unfocused to stick to a hobby, dabbles between wanting to be an artist, activist and bodybuilder; can’t concretize a reality that includes all three.

It’s hella hard! But fuck it. I wanna be a jacked jack of all trades.

Here’s a wonky flex cuz why not.

All I want 2 do now is flex.

its a cycle bro. Gym. Gainz. Flex.

fuuuck bro it feels sooo gud

uuuuuhhhh….. huhuhu

Bruh dont fight it. Just give in

My Growth Journey - So Far

Since joining the pack I have started a transformation that up to that point I had only dreamed about. I’ve grown stronger, bigger, more confident. I am becoming a beast and the pack is transforming me. I have never worked out harder, and I am loving every second of it. I have grown to crave that last rep. You know the one. The one that seems impossible. The one that makes you grit your teeth so hard you feel like they will break. The one that makes you grunt because you are pushing that hard. The one that makes your muscles burn so much it hurts. I love that pain. It means I am growing.

I’ve learned my place in the pack, and I work every day to earn it. I am turning into a confident alpha beast to the world. But I am owned. I’ve learned to control my self and submit while still being a bull of a man. It’s been frustrating and at times even painful, but it is worth it.

Gut, gone. Love handles, gone. Arms, defined. Quads, strong. My body is being transformed into a powerful machine.

I am becoming unapologetically man. The Pack drags the Man out of me and encourages me to be a beast. To walk with my chest out and head high. There is a bond. It’s like having a team in a locker room all the time. The competition, the shit talking forces the cocky alpha out and into the world. I’ve learned that I can be macho and dominate. I’m reminded almost every day, walking down the street, catching eyes with another man until he looks down and away, or not. That’s the best. Finding another jockboy in the wild and silently bonding for a moment.

That cocky swagger, the smirk, the strength. My inner beast is coming out and there is no stopping him now. I have no choice. I am man. I am beast. I am the Pack.

@wildmusclebros

Good morning, Arturo. Now that I’ve warmed up your pecs, give me 50 pushups. NOW. -Fran

Str8 Bros

Turns out old dogs can learn new tricks

Putting Arturo through this. He’ll reach 100 pushups for Xmas. My present To both of us.

Wonder if @bigjockbro would be up for the challenge… 😈

Scream, bro. It’s okay, go ahead – scream, and let go.

Let go of that energy that’s been building inside you all morning, that you first felt blooming as if within a dream, just minutes before your alarm clock went off at 5:00 am. 

Before the fourth tone of the alarm, the energy had grown until your eyes seemed to snap open and you found your body moving almost of its own accord. A routine, same as every day. Both of us swinging our legs out of bed, standing up and facing each other, making the bed then dropping down to the ground for our 100 morning push-ups.

You used to balk, in the days before you felt the energy inside you, the purpose that guides you, that your bro made clear to you. Couldn’t hardly do a push-up at first, in fact, said that it hurt your wrists.

So we strengthened your wrists. And your core. And your back. And eventually you were able to do 10. And then pretty quickly after that we got you up to 20, then 30, then 40, just because your muscles had learned the proper form.  Then it became gradual progress – 45… 52… and still you felt the energy growing, as your big bro took you down again and again, driving home your purpose. Until finally one day you made it.

Since then you’ve felt that same energy every morning, from the time you wake up until the 100th push-up is complete. It’s the only thing that can take the edge off, and you love doing it in unison with me, hearing the smooth exhale with every rep together and sitting in peaceful silence during the rest period, eager to go back for more.

By rep 100 the energy subsides – not gone completely – and for the first time all morning you’re able to think: Breakfast? What’s for breakfast. That’s your job, while big bro pulls together the gear and the plan for the morning’s workout.

This morning you went with a basic chicken omelette, threw in some vegetables, and a dash of hot sauce. You didn’t overthink it – you just went to the refrigerator, and that’s what was there. The food order comes online, and it’s easier to keep the cart mostly the same from week to week.

That’s when the energy starts to build again. It’s off to the gym, and you feel your mind getting swept away, your body just responding, obeying the forces that move it. It builds and builds until after your workout, you come home and all you can think about is release. It’s okay, bro. I understand. So go ahead, scream. If you think it’ll help.

Hey Arturo! @lookintomyeyesboy and @brounderconstruction wrote a post for you.

-Fran

I understand that need. Obey just feels right, like there is where I belong. Now my muscle body, all those workouts have a purpose, sirve to my Sir. And the bigger I get, the most alpha monster fucking manly muscular beast I get... the most I want to be control/use for my Sir. Fuck, I guess he really own me. -Arturo

The body is just a plaything of the mind.

No matter how big and powerful the body is, the mind is the one in charge, and if you control the mind you control everything. 

My Master is a small dude. I could break him in half with one hand. But he controls me and there is no way I could resist him, because he owns my mind.

“Get naked” he says, and I obey. There is no doubt in my mind who is the stronger man here, and it’s not me.

I am a slave. I exist to obey and serve. When I fuck him or when he fucks me, it’s just him, using my body for his pleasure the way he wants, and it’s his right to take me and my privilege to serve him.

I open my pants and take them down, ready for sex.

The body is just a plaything of the mind and  my mind is a plaything of his, so I am a plaything for his will, to take and use how he wants to.

I don’t know what he will do with me right now and I don’t care. What matters is that he will get to be served, and that I have a chance to be his slave, his servant, his fuck toy.

His plaything.

Stand naked before your Owner.

Feel his gaze. Flex to make him proud.

He will inspect you.

Appraise you.

Sculpt you.

And if you’re a good beast, he might play with you.

Be the jocktoy you long to be.