The moment of letting go. When the burdens of life fall away. When resistance ends and submission begins. When there is only emptiness. A nothingness craving to be filled. The rapture of mindlessness. When master’s will becomes all that matters. When muscle boy becomes muscle slave.
The moment when a muscle boy stops fighting, when he lets go and accepts the mind-cleansing ecstasy of his master’s will is a moment of beauty.
The moment when a master knows yet another has offered itself and transitioned from resistance to acceptance. Another empty muscleslave. Another receptacle without barriers, ready to have its vacant mind fucked and filled with its master’s desires. An hollow vessel hungry to obey. It fills the master with ecstasy.
It exceeds the pleasures of sex. It surpasses the joy of orgasm. It transcends euphoria. For both it is nirvana.
No matter the time of day or night, when contacted, the good, obedient, mindraped muscleslave loses himself in the intense euphoria of raw and mindless obedience to his master and his will for him. He hears and he obeys.
Sometimes to become the good, obedient muscleslave he craves deep down inside to be, but is afraid to embrace, a reluctant muscle boy requires a little assistance…
As his mind slipped deeper into the bliss of complete and utter emptiness, his cock became a stiff divining rod. Probing. Groping. Throbbing in its hunger for more of his master’s voice and power to consume him.
"Who do you obey?"
"I obey you, Coach."
"Who do you submit to?"
"I submit to you, Coach."
"Who do you grow for?"
"I grow for you Coach."
With those words, the muscleslave slid even deeper. Deeper into his own vacant mind. Deeper into his own mindfucked soul. Deeper into the euphoria of obedience and submission to Coach’s desire for him. Deeper into the liberation that only Coach could provide. The ecstasy of his throbbing, controlled muscle cock and boiling bull nuts told him this was so.
The look on a muscle jock’s face when he realizes what’s been done to him, how deeply he’s been mindfucked, the euphoria he feels so deep inside at his complete transformation into an empty, obedient, mindless, muscleslave, totally surrendered and obedient to his master’s will makes the work to get him there pure pleasure.
ME: I’ve finished my workout, showered and texting you, just like I’ve been told to, Coach.
COACH: That’s a very good jockboy.
ME: Thank you, Coach.
COACH: Now remove your towel. I know you’re hard from reading my words, but it doesn’t matter. You don’t care who sees. Come to my office. Your workout isn’t finished yet, my good jockboy.
ME: Yes, Coach. I hear and I obey.
The moment his hands touch the weights, he feels the euphoria of his mind draining and being filled with Coach’s will and the craving to submit, obey, and grow for him.
It felt so good to bend over for him. To offer myself. To feel him approach me from behind. The horny heat of my body melding with his. The hardness of his cock nuzzling my hairy crack. Feeling his arms and power coiling around me, holding me in place.
I tilted my head back to meet his. His lips and warm, horny breath caressing my ear. My mind pleading to hear the words. And when he had brought me to the very edge, when he had me staring over into the gaping abyss of horny mindlessness, he spoke the words. So softly. So powerfully. Deep into the center of my ravenous core. And as it had the countless times before, it came. Release. Pure and utter, blissful release. My mind shuddered. My ass quivered and loosened, sending that lustful shockwave blasting through my entire being. As it did I felt him slide up inside me. The demand from his cock that I open and surrender overpowered me. I was Him. He was Me. Once again, bound in mindless eternity as One.