He was lost in the voice, just obeying the orders to workout, to flex, to obey.
Coach has instructed me to recruit for the team. When I select someone my cock gets stiff, and my jockstrap gets soaked from the rush of delivering someone new to Him. And every time I do, he rewards me by opening me wider and programming me deeper. His desires are my desires. His will is my will. I am Coach’s good, obedient jockboy. I hear and I obey, Coach.
With every stroke, the jockboy edged himself deeper and deeper into Coach’s will. The more he danced on the edge, the more his mind and muscles begged for that special ecstasy that could only be shared between Coach and muscleslave.
The muscle jock finished his workout by climbing into Coach’s programming chamber as he had been instructed to do so many times before. Knowing how deep it was going to fuck his mind made him hot to hear Coach’s voice. Hungry to give up his control. Knowing Coach’s desires were about to penetrate his tired, swollen muscles filled him with a deep euphoria. As the chamber started, the jock allowed it access to the deepest parts of his mind. Knowing how it was going to fill him with Coach’s will, making him the best muscle jock he could be made his obedient mind swirl in ecstasy.
He recognized the tell tale signs. He had seen them so many times.
The young stud was motionless, petrified in his chair. His mind having long ago relented to the bliss of the spiral. His hand mindlessly enjoying the pleasure of his rigid cock throbbing in synch to the image that swirled on the screen as it fucked his mind.
He reached out through the spiral and plundered the mind of his new prize. The mindfucked stud quivered in ecstasy at the primal joy of having his exposed, vulnerable, and submissive mind picked clean.
"Once the muscle jock had been broken down, brainwashed and its past life completely erased, now all that was needed was for him to assume his place. Once posed on the perfectly lit pedestal, it was obvious that my choice of him to complete my trophy room’s collection of mindfucked muscle statues was the right one.”
The deeper he accepted the voice inside him, the more he could feel the separation beginning to happen. His old self, the one that struggled in the gym, the one that dreaded the workouts, the one that feared the weights, the one that prayed for the bliss of the reps to overtake him was being set aside. The resistant self, the one that feared letting go and giving in was being detached. Being moved to the side to let the hungry self, the self that craved submission to be freed.
The newly liberated muscle jock could feel his former self yielding. Giving up. Surrendering. Letting go. Relinquishing itself to the new. Standing side by side, the mindless jock could feel the old self trying to hold on. Groping for any scrap of the newfound bliss that was now taking over. But with every breath it took, and every word that penetrated its now open and receptive mind, the mindless muscle slave shoved the old self further and further away. Relishing in its newfound euphoria to open wider, relax deeper, submit, obey and grow.
The muscle jock listened. As he did he felt the mind-numbing bliss coursing through his veins. Rippling through his muscles. Turning him more and more into the mindfucked muscle slave the voice in the headphones demanded he be.
You’re an animal.
All you care about is desire and pleasure. Your mind is gone, lost in a cloud of bliss. Don’t care about putting a face to what you want, only think about the act, the touch, the fucking. Your entire world is now reduced to your body and my voice.
Listen to my voice. Feel the pleasure running through your nerves while you listen. This is what you need to learn: that listening to me and doing what I say gives you more pleasure than anything in the world.