Captive
by Redkage
I don’t know how I came to be here. I didn’t even know where ‘here’ even is. I’m not sure what time or day it is, because this place doesn’t have a clock. All I know is that I was being held prisoner by some madman.
About four days ago I had been laid off from my job. I was replaced by a young, arrogant jock that managed to catch the eye of my boss. After a month, he managed to flex and fuck his way up through the company, eventually usurping my position, which I worked 3 hard years to get. I hit the bar pretty hard, drinking everything in sight. I was so drunk that my memory of the night became blurred. I vaguely remember staggering out into an alleyway before passing out. When I woke up, I found myself in this predicament.
The first thing I noticed was my hangover. It felt as if someone had used my brain as a soccer ball. As I sat up, I suddenly realized that I wasn't in my bed. Instead I was on a cot in the middle of a strange, dark room. The room was about the size of my apartment, I reckoned. The walls were made of concrete, and two of them were covered with mirrors of all things, positioned so they could throw off an infinite number of reflections between them. One wall had a open doorway, which from what I could see lead into a bathroom. Above me there was a hanging ceiling light and a vent. I saw a staircase leading upstairs on the far end and bolted to it, climbing 3 steps at a time. At the top were a solid steel door and no matter how loud I cried or how hard I pounded, no one would answer. With a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I descended back downstairs to try to see if there were a window I could crawl out through. Unfortunately the only thing I saw was solid walls and my own reflection in the mirrors. My eyes wandered through, taking in the room. Other then the mirrors, it looked like any other basement. What were most unusual about this room were the weight machines, however.
I had been so focused on my situation that I didn't know them until now. There was a variety of exercise equipment neatly organized and placed around the room. It looked like a professional home gym. There was a bench press, dumbbells, racks, a treadmill and various other machines. They all looked state of the art and brand new. I've heard about people turning their basements into their own gym, but this looked like a set from Gold’s Gym. Whoever captured me must be some rich, health obsessed bastard. What exactly he wanted from me I didn’t know, but I do know that I was stuck here.
Suddenly I heard the ring of a bell. Alarmed, I looked around, trying to pinpoint the source. Finally, my eyes landed on a panel with a handle on the wall I had overlooked. It was a dumbwaiter. I rushed over and yanked open the door. Inside, I found a tray laden down with egg whites, toast and a cup of coffee. There was also a note pinned down under the coffee cup. I grabbed it and
"Welcome to my domain," it read. "I hope you find your new home to your liking. I had found you in such a sorry state that I just had to do something. Here, you will be well taken care of. Every day I will have your meals sent down through the dumbwaiter. When you finish eating, simply place the tray back in and close the panel. Just relax and enjoy your time, since I am positive you will."
I stared down at the note, my arm shaking. It was official: I was the prisoner of a psychopath. At first I refused to eat, fearing that it may contain poison, but eventually I gave in to my hungry and wolfed it down.
Three more days passed with no event. Being alone in this room has started to make me go crazy, so in order to keep my sanity I have decided to write this journal. I wrote a message on my meal tray requesting my captor a pen and paper using dinner gravy since I didn’t have anything else to write with. This morning, I found a notebook and a pen along with my breakfast. Now I have something to keep me from going insane. Hopefully someone will come and rescue me.
Day 9
Nine days gone, and still no change. Food still comes down through the dumbwaiter three times a day, but other then that nothing's changed. To pass the time, I started to use the equipment around me. After my first workout I was so sore the next morning that I could barely move, but I’m starting to get used to it now. I’m not the fittest guy alive, so my stamina isn’t that good. The longest I could jog on the treadmill was somewhere close to five minutes before quit altogether. I would casually push out the reps until my muscles gave the slightest hint of tiring before I stopped, taking five to ten minute breaks between sets.
This morning something a little different happened. When the dumbwaiter brought down food, I found the tray resting on top of a scale. A note attached to it ordered me to record my weight everyday or else I wouldn’t get any more food. Feeling disgusted with such a stupid request, I threw the scale into the corner of the room and sulked. However, lunch and dinnertime passed by, and still no food. I think he's serious about this. After all, he did have me locked up in his basement. So, I hopped on the scale, wrote my weight on a slip of paper and stuck it in the damn dumbwaiter. About half an hour later I heard a ding, and when I opened the panel, I found my dinner.
Day 18
Three weeks have gone by since my imprisonment. The clothes that I’d been wearing on the night I was taken had become a bit worn out, even though I carefully wash them. Fortunately my captor started to provide me with some fresh clothes awhile back, just some simple shirts and slacks, a tank top and some shorts, and telling me to put my dirty clothes into a bag he provided to be properly cleaned. I guess I should be grateful for getting laundry service, but the clothes he gave me felt strange. Normally I prefer loose clothing, but the ones he gave me were somewhat tighter. I wrote a note requesting for something bigger, but my demands were ignored.
I’ve started to get the hang of working out now. I can jog on the treadmill for at least eight to ten minutes before I become winded out, even sweated a bit. Instead of just giving in at the first signs of weariness, I force myself to do at least ten reps. I think my strength has improved as well. When I first started, I had trouble curling 15 lbs a few times, but now they seemed a lot lighter. I think I’ll try using the 20 lbs. dumbbells starting tomorrow and see how it goes.
Today I noticed that my pants felt looser. After looking in the mirror, I saw that there was less flab around my waist. I stepped on the scale, and to my amazement I found out I had lost almost eight pounds. I mean, I still have a bit of flab, but not as much as I used to. I knew I was getting more exercise then I’ve had since high school PE, but I didn’t work out THAT hard. It wasn’t until lunch time when I was halfway through my turkey sandwich that I realized that all of the foods I had been eating were healthy and low fat. After doing some mental calculations, I figured out that I was eating the necessary nutritional balance, though there was a bit more protein then I was used to and plus there was the chocolate milkshake that was served every day with my lunch.
I guess my captor had meant it when he said that he was going to take good care of me. Maybe in time I’ll look as good as the bastard that had taken my job away from me.
Day 31
Today marks a whole month of imprisonment. I would have written more often, but lately I’ve been getting into my workouts and normally I’m so exhausted at the end of the day that I’d just go right to sleep. I’m beginning to become a bit more focused during my workouts, pushing myself to the limit. I can now jog for about 45 mins on the treadmill, working up a good sweat and get my heart pumping. The combination of cardio and a low fat diet had literally melted the fat from my body, leaving me with a ripped body. I even have abs!
Lately I’ve been making it a habit to wear my tank tops and shorts for most of the day. It allows me to see just how much my body has changed in the last month. Whenever I look in the mirror, I no longer see a seedy looking pudgy middle aged man, but a hot young stud. My chest, which used to be flat, now had some separation down the middle as I developed my pecs with the help of the bench press. My legs looked solid as well; my thighs no longer jiggle no matter how I shake it. When I flexed my arms, a sizable bump would pop out.
Awhile back I got a tape measure from my captor and a note asking me to measure myself weekly. Although it was an order, I didn’t mind it too much. In fact, I was curious myself to how big I really was. It was a bit awkward to measure myself without any help, but I finally managed to get a pretty accurate amount and wrote it down.
Weight: 168
Arms: 14½ inches
Chest: 39 inches
Waist: 32 inches
Thighs: 20½ inches
Calves: 13 inches
Now, I’m not a real expert on size and measurements like these, but I have to say it looked pretty good, and the numbers reflected on my body. I was in better shape now then I had ever been in my entire life. I looked good, felt good and…
Fuck, I almost said that life was good as well. I almost forget that I’m being held prisoner here. I mean, the food may be good and I get to exercise and everything, but I was still trapped in another man’s basement.
Please, someone come and save me soon, before I lose myself!
Day 52
I’m starting to think there’s something in my food. Nothing bad, like poison or anything, but something none the less. I think there are some supplements added in it somewhere. In the past two weeks, I have gone from 168 lbs. to 175, a gain of seven pounds of lean muscle mass. That’s a pound every two days! I mean, I do work hard and exercise diligently, but even I knew that this was a bit fast without any help. After looking at my meals a bit closely, I can see that I’m eating a lot of proteins. The chocolate milkshake that I get every lunch I suspect is actually a protein shake. My captor wants me to become bigger. I mean, once you look at it that way, everything made sense: the personal gym, the carefully planned meals and the weekly measurements.
So my kidnapper wanted me to get into good shape, that I knew, but for what reason? Of course, what kind of sick reasoning would cause him to kidnap some drunk out of an alleyway in the first place? I just don’t know.
Day 54
My suspicion about my kidnapper wanting me to become fit was confirmed …and then some. Last morning, I received a case of steroids shortly before I started working out. I was generally appalled by this, but the note that came with it gave me specific instructions to use them or face dire consequences. He reassured me that these steroids would not give me any negative side effects like acne or penis shrinking.
So he wants to turn me into some sort of bodybuilder? Alright, fine then. The moment I get out of here, every pound of muscle I gained will serve to make my revenge on him that much easier.
Day 91
The steroids I’ve been using have given me massive gains. I’m so energized lately that I barely even need to sleep anymore. Every day I can practically feel my muscles growing bigger and stronger, packing on the pounds easily. My traps and delts have made my shoulders broader, and my growing lats made me wider. My pecs were no longer flat, but two slabs of meat. My arms now looked powerful, even when I’m not flexing. When I do flex, my bicep would rise up and up until it peaks beautifully to 18 ¾ inches around. The last time I weighed myself, I weighed 224 lbs., twenty pounds heavier then when I first came here, but now my weight is all muscle.
I’m writing today because lately I’ve been bothered by some dreams of mine. Being a man, naturally I have…urges…and used to relieve myself by imagining some hot sweaty fling with some hot model or actress. However, as more time had passed in this cellar, the imagery began to change subtly. I used to be satisfied with just the …ught of sex with a bea…ful woman, but when I started to develop my body it changed to her admiring my muscles, then worshiping it. And I was okay with this, but then it shift… more and more into muscle worship and ….. away from w…en. Then, this morning, while I was jacking off my morning woody, I tried to …… …self having a girl with a huge rack feel me up, but I couldn’t climax. Right before I gave up in frustration, the …. of the woman in my mind …..red and became a big, be..y bod..uilder and I came …..diately afterwards.
I…I think this place is starting to turn me into some sort of queer. Maybe it’s the roids or the isolation, of the f..ct that I’ve been doing not…ng but work out eve… day, but my mind is bec….ing obsess… with .…cle. I can ……. go fift…. …..tes without feeling my…f up, groping my own chest, kis…g my big biceps, rub..ing my deep abs before my hands ….. down to g…. my thick bulging co……..
Oh fuck, I just came all over my journal. Now some of the words are all smudged. The ‘roids have made me extremely horny, and I can barely control myself. Just thinking about pumping myself bigger and stronger makes me hard, and the thought of having another buff guy feel me up makes me blow my load.
Fuck, I gotta find some way out of here, and fast!
Day 120(?)
I don’t know if the day is accurate, but lately I’ve been losing track of the days in here. I do the same routine over and over again that every day is almost identical. The only difference between today and yesterday is the fact that I was a bit bigger and stronger than before. Today, I weighed in at 260 lbs. of sheer, rock hard muscle. In order to see more of myself, I decided to stop wearing any clothes and go naked (though there had been a few times when I put them on to see how tight they were on me right before I ripped out of them.)
Fuck, my arms look so fucking huge now, peaking at 21 inches, cold! My chest sticks out like two melons, looking bigger and fuller than the breasts of a common bimbo. My abs are so tight and sexy, a reward for finding so many different ways to crunch and work them. My legs, which used to be a bit small for my body, were now in proportion with the rest of me after spending painful hours at the squat rack. My quads bulged within my workout shorts, each head visible. My calves looked like someone stuffed some rolled up socks underneath my skin, though one touch tells you that it ain’t like that soft shit at all.
Fuck, excuse me, all this talking about myself makes me wanna pose in front of the mirror.
Ah shit, I came all over the mirrors again. Flexing makes me so horny that I have to jack off right away. I don’t know if it’s the roids or the workouts, but my cock is bigger. I used to be a wimpy six and a half inch hard, and now I’m stretching eight inches, soft! I try to measure how big I am when hard, but whenever I do I forget all about it and jerk off with one hand while the other explore my body, feeling the hardness of my pecs, the sensitivity of my nipples as my fingers brush the………m
Ugh, I just came again. Luckily I managed to turn away just in time to stop myself from cumming all over this journal again. Fuck, I can barely think straight anymore. I’m gonna head off to bed before I get horny and jack off again.
Day….?
I can’t remember what day it is today. I can’t even remember what it was like outside of my cellar. I’ve grown so used to life here that I’m starting to think that I’ve always been here. I vaguely remember having to work at some sort of corporate office, but everything is so hazy. I’m forgetting about a lot of stuff as of late, and I can’t recall things that I should know at the drop of a pin. Maybe it has to do with the stuff I hear at night.
Some time back, I woke up in the middle of the night for a call of nature when I noticed the voice. It was a smooth, sexy voice, a recording I think, being played from somewhere I couldn’t see. Somehow, I felt as if I knew that voice, but this was my first time hearing it, I’m sure of it.
As I listened, the voice was saying things in a slow, paced manner. Things like “Your muscles are so big...but they can be bigger.” Or “You’re horny for your body…flex it…look at it…worship it.” Or even “Men make you horny. Big men, with lots of huge bulging muscles. You love to have them feel your body up, to feel your muscles bulge under their finger tips.”
I didn’t know who the hell it was, but he was making me horny beyond belief. It only took me a minute or so before I shot the biggest load of my life, quickly followed by my second and third. Exhausted, I slumped back into bed, my barrel chest heaving as my mind drifted back to sleep again. As I do so, I hear the voice continue to talk. “I am your Master. I know what’s best for you. Listen to my voice. Do as I say, and you’ll be bigger then you can ever dream of…” After that, my eyelids closed and I fell back asleep.
I don’t know how long this has been going on, but now I find myself staying up late just to hear that voice. It calls to me like a beacon. It stirs every nerve in my body and sends shivers down into my cock. I jack off for hours listening to the tape recordings, feeling so good…so good…
I know now my purpose for being here. I was to obtain the perfect body so that I can please my Master. Only when I obtain the perfect body shall my Master let me see him, and to give me the ultimate pleasure.
And so, I’ll pump iron like there’s no tomorrow. I want to see my Master. I need to see my master! My Master is everything to me. I belong only to him. I’ve almost reached 290 lbs. But, as my Master has told me, I could be bigger.
????
The day has finally come. Today, my Master opened the Great Gate at the top of the stairs and beckoned me to come. I was in the middle of some lateral raises when he called.
“Come to me,” he said.
Immediately I dropped the dumbbells I had been holding and rushed to the stairs. At the top was the shape of a man standing in the blinding light that was streaming in through the Gate.
“Come to me.” He repeated.
Fearfully, I climbed the stairs one step at a time, the wooden boards creaking loudly under my immense weight. My heart was pounding wildly as I ascended up towards the glowing figure, my limbs trembling in anticipation. Finally, I was face to face with the man who gave me purpose, my Master.
He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was a little smaller then me by about an inch of height and fifty pounds, but the way he carried himself made him seem like a giant. His blonde hair was so radiant and flowed freely from his head. His eyes were a divine blue, and his skin was a kind of golden bronze that shone brighter then the sun. Overwhelmed by his magnificence, I fell upon my hands and knees and groveled before him.
“Stand up, so I can look at you.” He told me.
Obediently I pushed myself up and stand at full height. Nervously, I watched as he looked me up and down, and then circled around me, looking at my body. I was so scared that I was inadequate for him. I was only at 338 lbs. My arms reached 25 inches when I flex them. My chest stuck out half a foot from my body, rising and falling with my breaths like two living boulders. My stomach was knotted up in an 8-pack, my legs so thick that they push against each other for space. Silently I wished I had had time to work myself to a decent pump to make myself more presentable, but there was no use in cursing myself now. My cock hung, half erect, at 9 inches as I waited in anticipation for my Master’s approval, aroused by his watchful eyes.
“Very nice.” He finally said, and I felt a euphoria sweep over me. “Hard to believe you reached this size in only a year.”
“I did it for you, Master.” I said, trying to win his pleasure.
“Thank you.” He says with a mysterious smile. “Now then, what’s your name?”
“My name?” I blinked. I tried to remember if I had ever had a name, but I couldn’t. “I…I don’t have one.”
He shrugged it off. “Ah well, I’ll probably call you Number One anyways.”
“It’s a wonderful name!” I said, stopping myself from jumping up and down with glee.
“It’ll be enough to sort you aside from the others when they’re finished.” He said in an offhand manner. So regal and fine in everything he did!
“Others?” I tilted my head off to the side.
“Yes, there are at least seven others being trained like you were.” Master told me. “You’re the fifth one I brought in, but you finished first. I’d say that means you’ll be their leader after they’re all done.”
“But what of you, Master?” I said, shocked. “Shouldn’t you be the leader?”
“No, I’m the Master.” He corrects me. “You may be the leader, but no matter what, I will always rule over all of you.”
“Yes Master.” I nodded quickly. “No one can replace you.”
“Now then, how about we go into my room and see how well you do in bed?” He gave me a look.
Shivering with excitement, I followed him eagerly, prepared to use my entire body to please him.
Epilogue
This is the scriptures of our covenant. I, Number One, the first disciple of our Master, have written to lead our fellow brethren to the truth. Know that our Master gives to us purpose, and that purpose is to please him in all earthly ways. Dedicate yourselves, my brothers, to your bodies, so that when you have reached the size of enlightenment, you will be graced with the honor of dedicating your bodies to the Master.
So take iron in hand, and curl it for the sake of meeting your Master, who waits for you in his bed for you to come. Curl, and pump those muscles up.
END