We Are What You Need. @buffedbeef, Find Us On Kik #WildMuscleBros.

MASCULINITY

IS NOT SOMETHING

GIVEN TO YOU,

BUT SOMETHING YOU GAIN

YOU GAIN IT BY WINNING SMALL BATTLES WITH HONOR.

#TheDapperExecutive

Coach’s program helps me keep my priorities straight.

Turkish Oil Wrestling

MEN are born to FIGHT

#TheDapperExecutive

Your Surrender

Let’s set the stage, help you envision the scene.

You feel yourself squirming a little lately, spiritually speaking.  It’s not ideal.  The town in which you live is small enough that your past washes up on the shores of the present every day, a little bit.  You used to have a little too much fun with drugs and alcohol.  Maybe you were a little too outgoing.  Maybe you’re a different person now, slightly, but your ghost hangs around and haunts you.

You’re not proud of your past.  In fact, you’re a future-forward kind of guy.  You have a nostalgia for a past you’ve never lived.  You reason that if you had a different past - different actions, different environments, different habits - you’d be inhabiting a different present.  You’d be a different person.

When you sigh, it’s a big, gusty thing that seems to sweep out the darkest corners of your body.  The time has come and gone to do something about it.  So you move, at his instruction.  Your ears bend to his words, and your brain concedes control to your dick.  He makes you so hard, the way he talks to you.  Your interests parallel.  You have long, engaging conversations that verge on intellectual, sometimes, about the nature of transformation and what you truly want from life.  As the months roll, you grow closer and closer to him.  You talk to him on the phone three, four times a day.  You don’t always remember everything, but you know that he has some kind of power, some kind of power over you, and you thrill to it.

You obey the call.  You surrender, and you do it, for the first time, without hesitation.  He’s just … different, somehow.  He resonates.

Like many, you made a New Year’s Resolution.  You’re a Resolutioner.  You’re part of that dreaded herd that swarms the gyms on 2 January, at least on the surface level.  As February comes and goes, March swirls angrily by and leaves April shuddering in its wake.  The warmth seeps up from below.  You feel the world changing around you, and its voice is inviting you to do the same.  Change.  Evolve.  The whispers in the wind are seductive, beguiling.  They seep in through the bedroom’s open window as you lay there, waking.

And it’s that time of the year, too.  The winter’s lacquer of snow & ice has finally shattered, and the sun strobes strongly through more hours of the day.  When you wake up in the morning, the outside world is airily infiltrating your bedroom through the open window.  Instead of groping through a charcoal void, your skin prickling with cold, your eyes snap open and your mouth curves into a satisfied, relaxed smile.  You test your muscles with a stretch, hearing the joints pop and the sinews sing against the bone.  

You do not lay in bed alone.  His voice is there, too.  And his body, his hands.  He slaps your up-turned ass - hard - and says quietly, “Mine.”  And it’s a joke, but it’s not a joke, too.  “Gym time, boy,” he says, and you know it’s true.  When he speaks, it’s invariable, immutable, fixed.  There’s a certain iron cast to the words - when he wants there to be - and they crash down like a portcullis.  It’s gym time.

You’ve taken to the routine.  You’ve always been a creature of habit.  Conscientious to a fault, perhaps just a little too neat.  You like things just so, but sometimes fret over the idiot details.  He’s helping you with this.  It’s kind of him.  He’s helping you to unwind the invisible wires around your brain - to be less conscious of every single thing around you.  Or, if not less conscious, to be a little more dismissive of the idiot details.  He’s teaching you how to paint with broad strokes, rather than scribbling in the margins with a fine-tip pen.  This appeals to you.  Your stride gets longer.  Your eyes fix on objects in the distance.

Especially muscles.  Your eyes are drawn to them.  Now that you live in the Big City, you take long walks when you could take the subway, just so you can see more.  Now that the days are warmer and less insulation is required, you can see the results of the efforts of the guys around you.  How they adorn their work with swirls of black ink, or how they wear their favorite brands.  How they hide their eyes behind mirrored shades.  And when you see them, you start to follow them.  It’s not unnatural - just a guy walking behind a guy for a little while.  It’s a big city.  No one notices.  And the entire time, you feel this sharp, twisting pang in your deepness, and you feel yourself shifting in your shorts.  Your basketball shorts, the ones that he picked out for you that morning.  You haven’t chosen your own clothing now in months, and it hasn’t really occurred to you - but that’s just one of those idiot details that isn’t necessary for you to focus on.  The second you even consider it, it’s gone, like ash tumbling through the air.

You’ve become quietly covetous.  The first place your eyes fall when you see another guy is the place on their bicep where the sleeve falls.  Even better if the entire peak is displayed, from the small cannonball of the deltoid down to the olecranon of the elbow.  Next, if available, the etched diamond of the calf muscle.  Even better if the shorts fall just above the kneecap, displaying the firm teardrop of the vastus medialis.

And you see?  In your covetousness, you’ve eagerly sought out the information necessary.  What these muscles are called.  How to name them.  The deltoids.  The biceps.  The biceps femoris.  The quadriceps.  The abdominals, the serratus.  The pectorals.  You’ve become a student of the male body - and your major is the muscles.  You hungrily seek out this information.  Again, you’d stop to ask why, but that’s just one of those idiot details.  Your broad strokes of thought boldly wash out those hesitant, pencil-like scrawlings.  

Your conversation shifts, too.  Your remarks, even just the little off-cuff remarks you make to co-workers, are about your newfound interest.  You might even tentatively complain a little, about your sore quads, or how your pecs feel so full, but so tight, since yesterday was chest day, bro.

Let’s take a break.  You have the tableau, you see the players.  One of those players is, in fact, you.  Big picture.  And the other, well, he’s grinning just out of the corner of your eye, when you lay together, spent & exhausted on the bedspread.  You might even be covered in cum, but you’re laughing, a big gusty sound that originates from down in your chest - actually, come to think of it, where most of your sound comes from these days.  You’ve been feeling yourself expanding, somehow.  Slowly, but surely.

Is this magic?

You tell me.

You’re lying there, next to him.  You play your hands over the contours of his muscles.  He loves it when you knead into his rhomboids, his lats.  You’re kept in a slight state of astonishment whenever you see his chest.  He likes it that way.  Flexes for you, with his eyes and grin fixed on yours.  Later, he’ll cinch the measuring tape around your waist, around your chest, tug it tight around your bicep.  And you’ll flex, and you’ll laugh.  Because you know that number is gonna get higher, and higher, just as maybe your IQ number might be getting a little lower.

Somewhere inside of your skull, that little scratching sound, that pencil cribbing in the margins, is worrying over that detail.  You can hear it, but just like living in the Big City, there’s always some kind of noise, some kind of static.  As easily as a gnat at your ear, you whisk it away with an absent-minded dismissal.  Because

“Gym time, boy.”  And the seriousness of his words expand in the air, creating an invisible push at the small of your back.  You go together, and he observes, and he watches.  He corrects your form.  Sometimes you spot one another on the bench.  You workout until you both shake with effort and hunger.  And probably a little from that bomb-ass pre-workout, too.  Damn, does that shit fizz in the veins.  And it makes the veins pop, too!  You love marvelling at the way your veins pop out against your growing bicep.  You love the comments people give, those commonplace “Wow!  You’ve been working out, huh?”  

“Sure,” you grunt in modest reply, and flex, perhaps a little conspiratorially, like you’re sharing a secret with this awed co-worker.  And one day, you might notice out of the corner of your eye, this guy that’s kinda been following you for a block or two.  

Full circle, bro.  You might be just aware of the eyes prickling against your skin.  The way your shorts and Chicago Bulls jersey fall on your frame.  You’ve long since ditched the glasses, and you sport shades now - mirrored ones, like aviators.  Just like everything else you’re wearing, he picked it out.

At the crosswalk, the little orange hand turns solid and you come to a stop.  You are tired from your workout, but not too tired to stretch, turning that stretch into a surreptitious flex.  You might even lower your shades and wink at the guy you feel gaping at you, trying successfully to blend into the crowd of other normal people.  How badly you want to warn him - no, not warm him, haha, what the hell would you be warning the little dude about?  More like, you wanna turn around and be like BRO, JUST LIFT and see the reality registering in his eyes, see him start to change too.  See him start to expand, see his chin lift, see the ink - just like yours, big tribals, so much depth, you could stare for hours - just materialize on his skin.

And maybe he does.  Maybe that poor, shrimpy onlooker with more weight in his skull than muscles on his bones feels that subtle, shifting wind.  Maybe he, too, inhales - inhales deeper than he ever has before, scours out the basement of his body with his breath, and lets it out in a huge, gusty exorcism.  Maybe he turns the corner and puts pen to paper at the front counter, and finds himself waking up in the morning with new ideas, thoughts, plans, goals.  

Maybe you’re contagious.  That thought makes you laugh - it’s really more a guffaw, now, this deep sort of chuckle that makes you sound a little bone-headed.  Like maybe lifting is catching, bro.  How sweet would that be?

And the future is still ahead of you, though you don’t pay it much mind.  You follow the street home to him, to his words, to his gaze, to his arms around your body.  To the murmurs you’ll forget as he talks you down, smiling at you the whole time.

It isn’t magic, because there’s no such thing as magic, right?  But it’s close enough to be effective, so maybe it is.  

Anyway, if he told you there was such a thing as magic, you’d believe him.

You’d believe anything.

Ready for Master’s inspection.

-Arturo

Curious to see how everyone else is doing with this, with five months to spare to 2018. Arturo and I found each other and it fucking blows my mind how much we’ve evolved thanks to this, @darffall. We began as “muscle bros,” but it quickly became clear that we both needed me to be a muscle master. He has become so much more primal, so much more focused, so much manlier, so much... hornier. He’s been growing too, filling his clothes more and more, enjoying the #forcedworkouts I throw his way. Rising to the challenge.

Every.

Single.

Time.

I’m so fucking proud of my #musclemate, of the bull I’m turning him into, proud of the friend I made. Proud of my soldier. His potential is limitless, and I intend to continue to draw it out of him. To force it out. He’s meant for greatness, and into greatness I shall sculpt him. For I am his sir. And he, my jocktoy.

- Fran

Assignment 2018: Musclemate

I have an assignment for those looking to train and develop physically in 2018. It doesn’t matter whether you plan to call yourself a jock or just to develop your body in an athletic and magnetic kind of way. I expect many of you will start to get aroused and captivated just reading about this assignment, which can allow you to anticipate the pleasure and reward of ultimately doing it.

Before I get to the assignment, I want to mention a couple of facts born out by multiple studies:

1. Acknowledgment is immensely powerful in propelling us to accomplish work far beyond what is dictated by reason.

2. That feeling that we’re doing something nice or helpful for someone is a powerful and compelling motivator.

So as you train your body, how do you get that acknowledgment and feeling of helping? You could, of course, show off your body to a crowd of nameless strangers (on Tumblr, for instance), but we’re much more powerfully motivated by those to whom we feel close, connected. That’s why children’s welfare charities will often send donors photos and stories of a specific child to sponsor - to create that feeling of connection to motivate the donor to give more. 

But acknowledgment and feeling of helping someone with your body can be hard to find with ordinary close connections. In conventional relationships, even romantic ones, prolonged focus on the athleticism and sexuality of one’s body is inappropriate. So the need arises for a new kind of relationship: a relationship between someone who works to develop and sculpt his body and someone who acknowledges and admires that body. For the purposes of this post, I shall call the person seeking to grow his body the trainee.  I shall call the person motivating him a musclemate.

The requirements for a musclemate are simple: he* must genuinely desire to help the trainee grow. He must feel genuine pleasure, a satisfiable lust at seeing a strong, athletic, attractive body. This pleasure is the helpful thing that the trainee will find so rewarding to create in his musclemate. Both the trainee and his musclemate must be comitted to protecting each other’s privacy. The relationship between a trainee and his musclemate should be a meaningful human connection, not a “transaction” just to get each other off. The more a trainee and a musclemate appreciate, respect, and connect to each other as people, the more the musclemate’s acknowledgment and pleasure can motivate the trainee. To keep the relationship personal and meaningful, a trainee should only have one musclemate. A musclemate should have only one trainee.

Those are the essential requirements. A musclemate may have additional knowledge or skills that he can bring to bear. He may be a hypnotist, a trainer, or a nutritionist. While helpful, such abilities needn’t be mandatory. That said, a trainee may be well justified in expressing additional requirements (such as age, gender, or type).

There are three variations of musclemates that, while all sharing the essential goals and requirements, each have a different power/status dynamic:

1. Muscle Master. A muscle master is a musclemate who’s in control. When the trainee has a desire to obey and to surrender to another’s will, a muscle master can harness that desire to deeper enflame that craving of the trainee to work out and grow. A muscle master may be able to dominate the trainee physically with his own body. He may be able to hypnotize the trainee and direct the trainee’s sexual desire to deepen the trainee’s obedience (this is what I do most often). Neither ability is required - the important thing for success as a muscle master is for the trainee to feel a deep, almost instinctive need to obey and please the master. The origin of that need is not important.

2. Muscle bro. This kind of musclemate is a trainee himself. Two muscle bros don’t have to train together. What’s important is that they regularly flex for each other and appreciate each other’s growth. A healthy rivalry can develop between two muscle bros. Perhaps the bro who makes bigger gains in a particular week can captivate his bro with his flexing, showing off for his bro harder and harder and sending him into a deep mesmerizing cloud of pleasure. The weaker bro might find himself becoming fascinated, with his self control seeping out of him, becoming open and maybe even obedient to his stronger muscle bro just then. Of course, both muscle bros must remember that the goal is their mutual growth, not domination. So the stronger bro, as he puts his ensnared weaker bro in that trance with his muscles should give the weaker bro suggestions and motivation to grow stronger and harder. The stronger bro should not allow the weaker bro to cum until the weaker bro has absorbed the suggestions and committed to obeying them. The stronger bro can then make the weaker bro cum, reinforcing his own gains with the pleasure he’s given the weaker bro.

3. Muscle fan. This kind of musclemate is someone who most enjoys relishing the physical strength and superiority of the trainee. A muscle fan needn’t be dominated by the trainee physically or psychologically - even in ordinary cordial interaction, the muscle fan realizes and acknowledges the power of the trainee’s body and sexuality over him. A muscle fan can also be a hypnotist (as I have been when working with alpha subs), but hypnosis is not required. The true power of a genuine muscle fan is that he acknowledges the trainee’s growth with deep lust, sincerity, and pleasure. There are two important caveats for muscle fans: first, the trainee should not dominate the muscle fan all the time (or even most of the time). Remember, it is the human connection that makes the musclemate relationship so powerful. So if the trainee uses his confidence, strength, sexuality, and power to completely reduce his muscle fan to a whimpering, lustful, mindless cum machine, then the power of the relationship is lost. Second, while a muscle fan’s attraction may seem unconditional, but he can become bored or tired if the trainee does not grow. A muscle fan likely sees any number of jocks on Tumblr and in other forums, and those jocks can either steal the fan or drain him of his cum (and thus the reinforcement his pleasure would provide to the trainee), if the trainee fails to keep his muscle fan captivated with and invested into his muscle gains.

Two trainees can be each other’s musclemates if both are muscle bros, or one is a muscle master and one is a muscle fan. 

The Assignment

So my assignment for you, in place of any new year’s resolutions, is, if you’re a trainee, to find a musclemate. You can use this post to help: if you’re a trainee looking for a musclemate, comment on this post describing the musclemate you’re looking for. If you’re not a trainee and just looking to be someone’s musclemate, please reply to one of the trainees who comments. You may wish to reblog this post so that more potential trainees may see it. Of course, questions and suggestions are always welcome. 

Update (Jan 20, 2018): To facilitate connecting musclemates and trainees, I created a new channel on Hypnosis4Guys chat called #musclemates. Don’t let the location fool you: hypnosis skills are not required to be a musclemate in any category. If you don’t see anyone on, leave a description of what you’re looking for and, if you’d like, your body pic.

Happy holidays, and have a healthy and empowering 2018!

*The musclemate can be of any gender, orientation, or gender identity. I use the pronoun “he” only because most of my readers and all of my subs are men.

Update: if you respond looking for a musclemate, please make sure you have enabled messaging in your tumblr account.

Sir, Yes, Sir! Everyday. -Arturo

A Positive Circle Leads To A Positive Life

Being soaked alone is cold. Being soaked with your brother is an adventure.

#TheDapperExecutive