Collecting (hypno)

His name was Alex, and from the minute I saw him that morning in the gym, I knew I had to have him. The perfect addition to my muscle collection. I was at the gym early that morning, right when they opened at 5am. I got myself a locker, changed my clothes, filled my water bottle and hit the floor. I’m not sure when he actually came in, I just know that when I stood up in between bench press sets, there he was. He was probably 5’6” or 5’7,” smooth, olive skin, shaved head, goatee, and green eyes a shade I had never seen before, moss green with an iridescence that captivated. I would discover that he was Muslim and mixed, part Spanish, part Moroccan. Alex was solid from head to toe. I guessed him to be about 180 pounds. Later from our conversations, I would come to find out he was actually more like 210.

He was wearing a red tank top that was so tight it looked like it was painted on. It made his shoulders seem to erupt with muscle out the sleeves and hug every minute contour of his huge, meaty pecs. The nipples were hard and strong and made beautiful round points in the tank top. His biceps were rock hard and beautifully veined, right at 18 inches. The tank top hugged his abs, leaving nothing to the imagination. The wide wings of his lats stretched the back of the tank top and shot dramatically down into the compact 30 inch waist. Even though he was wearing blue, baggy basketball shorts all the guys seemed to be wearing now a days, I could clearly see the thick, cabled quads underneath. He was on the squat rack when I first laid eyes on him, working the 405 pounds like it was nothing! He wasn’t cheating either. He was going all the way down, flaring a beautiful, muscled bubble ass at the bottom, and flexing his glutes hard and strong as he went back up. His calves were the size of small melons and the whole package ended in a pair of turquoise blue Nikes and white ankle socks. Without a doubt he definitely knew what clothes and colors to wear to show off his body and his skin and eye color. As he finished his current set, he leaned against the frame of the squat rack, chest heaving, legs pumped, body and muscles glistening with sweat.

Who am I, you ask? My name is Erik. I’m 6’4,” I weigh in at 285, I have blonde hair, blue eyes, scruffy beard, hairy chest, arms and legs. I’m ripped. Solid, dense muscle from head to toe, and because I know you’re dying to ask, yea, I’m hung as fuck. 10-1/2 by 6. Thick, straight, veiny and powerful. Not only am I not afraid to use it, I LOVE to use it! I discovered a long time ago that I had this aura about me that could attract and snag any muscleboy I set my sights on. They’re always drawn to me. They can’t help themselves. And I don’t complain one damn bit. In short, I’m the perfect muscle daddy. I’m every muscleboy’s wet dream. Does that sound cocky to you? It’s not being cocky, it’s just me telling it like it is.

I’ve always loved working out. Coming home pumped from a hard, sweaty workout has always made me horny as fuck. Even as far back as high school, I couldn’t wait to get home and strip out of my clothes, get in the mirror, flex and pose, and stroke my big dick nice and slow and enjoy the endorphin rush as it floods my body.

The only thing better than getting myself off after a workout is having someone do it for me. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve left the gym with some hungry muscleboy following me like a puppy dog, ready to come home with me to worship my muscles and my cock. Once I get them home, it would always be the same thing. They’d be out of their clothes faster than I could be. After a few times of that I realized there was a lot of fun to enjoy using their cravings against them to get exactly what I wanted. They’d be so horny and worked up they’d lick their own nuts if that’s what I told them to do. So I always enjoyed them putting on a show, trying so hard to turn me on and please me. It was like taking candy from a baby. Sometimes I’d have them do a little dance for me first. Sometimes I’d have them strip down immediately. Other times I’d get really bossy and see how far I could push them. Regardless, I always stripped first, letting them get a good look, ease back into my favorite chair and stroke myself. Slowly. Teasingly. Never letting them touch, getting so much enjoyment from seeing their horniness and desperation for me and my muscles. They never really realized that what is was they wanted, needed, was my control. By the time I’d be sliding my daddy cock up their quivering muscle butts, they’d be so blind with lust they’d do any fucking thing I said. Do you have any idea what a rush it is to have that much control? That much power? I’m here to tell you it’s the ultimate high.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Alex looking. I could read the thoughts going through his head. He was trying to be subtle, but he was actually telegraphing his arousal right at me. I knew his body was starting to stir for me. I grinned to myself. I’d done this so many times that acquiring Alex would be effortless. I knew exactly how this would go and I could do this one of two ways. I could let him come to me. I would pretend I was so focused, so into my workout that I didn’t even notice him. Every now and then between sets I’d check myself out in the mirror, strike a hard, pumped pose, acting like I was checking my progress, so into myself that nothing or no one else really mattered. Just like it had other muscleboys before him, the narcissist muscle daddy routine would drive him insane. He’d find himself doing things to get me to notice him. Re-racking weights near me, making more trips than necessary to the water fountain just so he could walk within my line of sight. He’d even time his workout so that as I was ending mine, he’d be ending his. Pretending not to notice him would drive him so crazy that he would work up the nerve to say something, no matter how dumb or corny it would sound, just to get to talk to me, just to breathe in my essence.

The other way I could do this was always my favorite. I’d still check myself out with a hard, pumped up pose in the mirror when I knew he was looking. I’d still act like I didn’t see him staring. I’d grin at my reflection. In the case of Alex, however, I’d go all the way. I would lift my shirt and slap my blonde, furry washboard abs; or (and this got them every time), hit a huge double bicep pose, grin to myself in the mirror, then kiss one of my bulging arms. Afterward, as I was going back to my workout, I’d let my glance meet his, pretending like I didn’t notice him until just then.

And I did exactly that. I let my glance meet his. His green eyes met my blue eyes, and I held his stare, waiting to see how long he’d hold it before looking away. I let my stare bore deep into his green eyes. When I knew that he was caught in my baby blues, I smiled and started my muscle daddy swagger in his direction. “Hey big man, would you mind giving me a spot over here?,” I said pointing back to the bench.

“Sure,” Alex said never letting his eyes leave mine. He didn’t know it, but he was already hooked. I was benching 315 at the moment, and I could easily handle that weight on my own, but I wasn’t going tell him him that. Lying back down on the bench, I had a perfect view up one of the legs of Alex’s shorts as he stood legs straddling the end of the bench, hands on the bar ready to “help” me. I used one of my favorite tricks, one that works like a charm every time. Thanks to the spotting position for bench press, as I press the weight up and exhale, my breath can go right up a stud’s shorts and hit his nuts and cock. A muscleboy’s thrill of spotting a hot muscle daddy and feeling his breath on their crotch gets ‘em hard every time. By the end of a set, they’ve got a boner that they just can’t hide. Most times they don’t even realize it. The combination of the gym, being near me, seeing my muscles pumping, my veins popping, them trying to flex their muscles while spotting me to try and impress me with what they’ve got and my breath on their crotch, it usually gets their brains swirling with a smoldering lust for me. If they only knew what was waiting for them.

When I stood up, chest pumped and full, I looked him straight in the eye and stuck out my hand to shake his. “Thanks, man. I’m Erik. What’s your name?” Alex introduced himself. Hands sweaty with nervousness and excitement. His shorts bulging from my breath on his crotch. And what a nice bulge it was. We made small talk for a few minutes, my eyes every now and then glancing down at his crotch, making sure he noticed. “Well, nice to meet you, Alex, but that was my last set. Thanks for the spot. Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime,” I said squeezing his shoulder and smiling deeply into his eyes and heading for the locker room. I knew he’d follow. They always do. I didn’t so much as get to my locker when Alex walked in, trying to look like he wasn’t looking for me. I finished undressing and headed for the shower. Within minutes, there was Alex, who conveniently stepped into the shower directly across from mine. This muscleboy was so fucking hungry for me he could taste it. The part that turned me on, the part that always turned me on, was that he had no idea what was going to happen to him. They never do. And by the time they find out, it’s far too late for them to do anything about it. As I was thinking about how great Alex was going to be for my collection, my cock started getting hard. I turned and faced him, eye to eye, shower to shower. Seeing the water running down his soaped up muscles, his body being cleansed, being readied for its surrender to me, my cock got harder. As he stared across the shower stalls and watched my cock starting to throb, I knew what was going through his mind. I knew how hot he was for me. I knew how much he craved my muscles. My cock. He didn’t even know that what he really craved inside was my control over him. He was ready to offer himself to me, and he didn’t even know it. Beautiful. I nodded my head back toward the locker room. His signal to finish his shower and follow me. And of course, like every other muscleboy I had collected before him, he followed, not knowing he’d already been added to the collection. All that was left was the thrill of seeing my trapped prize come to full realization.

As I dried and dressed, he never took his eyes off of me. As I was leaving the locker room, I walked up to Alex, keeping my eyes locked on his and said, “I don’t know what you have planned for the rest of your morning, but cancel it. Come with me.” Without saying a word, Alex nodded and followed me to my car, his mind swirling with his own, personal muscle daddy fantasies. The trip to my house was done in silence. I purposely didn’t say anything. I wanted what he thought was coming to start working even harder on his mind. I wanted his lust to build as the drive continued. I pulled into the driveway of my home, a modest brick ranch style, but its modesty is deceiving. It holds many secrets, but I’ll get to those as my story continues. I don’t want to spoil it for you. I walked through the front door, set down my bag, and started stripping out of my clothes. By the time Alex came through the front door, I was naked, pumped and rock hard. “Shut the door and strip,” I instructed him. The unwitting jewel in the crown of my muscleboy collection did exactly as he was told.

I decided that I was going to take my time and enjoy watching Alex be assimilated into my collection. I led Alex through the house and to my back deck. I had the fencing around the deck intentionally built high enough so I could conduct the business of expanding my muscleboy collection without the fear of neighbors looking in on me. During the summer months, like now, it was beautiful to begin a muscleboy’s assimilation on the deck. Soft breeze blowing, pumped, hard muscles glistening with sweat, luring each specimen deeper and deeper into the inescapable trap created by their own lust.

I sat down in my cushy deck chair and spread my legs, letting my boner throb and bounce. Alex stood on the deck staring, practically hypnotized already by the view. Naked he seemed even more massive for his frame. His frame held his muscles well and he remained pumped and veiny from the workout earlier. “You love looking at Daddy’s muscles and cock,” I said holding his gaze in mine. He didn’t answer verbally, but his long, thick, uncut cock did as it stiffened in response. Alex had a beautiful, meaty foreskin that almost covered his head. As he got stiffer, it pulled halfway down and the head was peeked out. The muscleboy’s precum glistened as a pearly drop spidered slowly toward the deck floor. “Sit down, Alex.”

As my Spanish/Moroccan prize took his seat, another cool breeze blew across his body and through the windchimes hanging from the eave. “Feel the soft cushions of the chair hug your muscles, Alex. Hear the windchimes blowing in the soft breeze. Feel your body relaxing. Sinking. Giving in. Letting go. Listen to the windchimes, Alex. Feel the cool breeze on your muscles. Feel them relaxing you. Calming you. Focusing you. Every time you exhale you focus deeper. Deeper on Daddy’s voice. Deeper on the cool breezes. Deeper on the windchimes. All of it echoing inside your head.” As I continued working on his mind, I could see that Alex was slipping and sliding deeper and easier than I had imagined he would. His body and muscles were sagging into the cushions more with each breath. His head was nodding off to the side as he kept going deeper, and his cock was growing thicker and harder. Have you ever hypnotized a muscleboy and seen his entire body so limp and heavy with relaxation but his cock hard as steel? Knowing that he is focused beyond comprehension on your voice and words? Knowing that every breath he takes is sending shivers of ecstasy straight into his cock? That his body and mind are so far gone, and all that’s left is his throbbing pole, an antenna picking up all the power and control you’re sending him? Do you know what a rush it is to have that kind of power? No, probably not, I guess. Let me tell you, it’s a pleasure beyond words, and right at that moment, my own bouncing rock hard cock was in Heaven from the rush of seeing him like this. As easily as he was sliding under me, my mind was racing with greater plans. I have so many techniques and levels of brainwashing and mindfucking I love to use on my muscleboys. I had decided I was going to work this muscleboy hard. He was going to get the entire package.

“Feel your cock throbbing. Reaching. Grasping for relaxation, Alex. The harder your cock gets, the more you relax. The stiffer your cock becomes, the more your body takes on a wonderful, relaxing heavy feeling. Sinking you deeper and deeper into the soft, warm, fluffy chair of relaxation. With every breath you exhale, Alex, your cock throbs harder, taking you deeper. You want more and more. More and more ecstasy. More and more of the windchimes tinkling their way deep into your relaxed, focused mind and body. The harder you get, the more your mind empties. Emptying to allow more room for Daddy’s voice and Daddy’s will. You can’t stop it, Alex. You don’t want to stop it. You don’t need to stop it. You just want more and more. More and more of this great feeling. The more you hear the windchimes, the more you hear my voice, the harder your cock gets, the deeper you go. It’s automatic now, Alex. There’s no need to think. The less you think the better you feel. The better you feel the deeper you go. The deeper you go the more the tinkling of the chimes shoves you deeper into the chair. The deeper you’re shoved into the chair, the more Daddy’s voice fills you with bliss. The more Daddy’s voice fills you with bliss, the harder your beautiful, meaty, thick uncut cock throbs with the hunger for more. More is good. More is bliss. More is ecstasy. More is perfect.”

Using the windchimes, the soft breeze and the velvety power of my voice, I continued taking my prize deeper and deeper. So deep that he wouldn’t care what time it was or what day it was. I didn’t want to take him all the way yet, though. I wanted to have some of him left for what I had planned for later. I wanted to use all the other tools in my brainwashing, soul raping arsenal on him. If Alex was going to be the most valued object in my collection, I was going to take my time and enjoy every single minute of stripping him of who and what he was. “Now Alex, when I snap my fingers, you will open your eyes, but you will remain in this deep state of relaxation. If you understand, make your cock throb and bounce,” I said as his cock not only throbbed and bounced, but started leaking precum like a faucet. “Once you open your eyes, your focus will be on Daddy’s cock. You love its length, its head, its veins, i’s hardness. If you understand, make your cock throb and bounce.” Again, his cock throbbed and bounced and gushed precum, and I knew he was well on his way.


Alex’s wide, vacant, green eyes were locked on my cock. I could see that his mind was frenzied with the lust I had implanted for it. His mouth hung open in mindless craving. A beautiful strand of drool oozed from the corner and made its trickled down his abs. “Now Alex, come kneel in front of Daddy and suck his cock. Show Daddy how much your love him. How much you obey him. How much you want to please him.” The vacant muscleboy slowly pulled himself out of his chair and went straight to his knees, never letting his eyes leave my cock. He opened his mouth and slid his wonderful, wet with drool lips over the head of my cock. I thought I was going to hit the roof. Never, in all the years I’d been collecting muscleboys had I ever felt anything so beautiful. Have you ever experienced a hot, mindless, blind with lust muscle stud, whose mind you’ve violated, sucking your cock? No? You haven’t been living life, then! They suck you like a 4-year old with their first lollipop. They lick, they suck, the savor every fucking inch. But Alex...Alex was a whole different thing. I really struck gold this time. He sucked my cock with such love, such determination and such obedience. I’ve never had my toes actually curl getting a blow job from one of my collected muscleboys, but my toes literally curled. I let my head throw back, and my eyes roll up in my head, enjoying my blank stud’s technique and enthusiasm. He went up and down so slow and lovingly.

“Oh, Alex, that’s right. Suck your muscle daddy’s big, fat cock. Make love to Daddy’s big dick. The deeper you go down on Daddy’s dick, the deeper you go. It’s up to you Alex. You take yourself as deep as you want.” There’s a part of me that almost regrets having said that because what he did next almost put me over the edge. Alex had this technique where he was licking my shaft with his tongue while my cock was inside his mouth. And as he did that over and over, he went deeper down my dick. Half way. Three quarters. All the way down to the bush! “Deeper, Alex. Go so much deeper now. Daddy’s dick. You crave Daddy’s dick. You love Daddy’s dick!” I put my hand on the back of Alex’s head and felt it going up and down. Up and down. Knowing he had tipped himself over the edge, raping his own mind with my cock. And by the way he was working my steel pole, I could tell the mindraping was brutal. Fuck I love this part so much! Using my cock and their own blind lust against them. Using a muscleboy’s mouth to edge me. Using my edging as the tool to shove their pathetic, little worthless minds into absolute, total, enslaved darkness. Twisted, perverted, sexual darkness. Sexually hypnotized evil. It always brings out the primal, raw animal in me. The hunter and the hunted. The predator and the prey.

I opened my eyes and looked down at Alex. Deep throating my cock wasn’t enough for him. He kept trying to get more and more of my cock down his throat. Driving his mouth down my shaft was making his cock so hard it ached. His precum was practically flowing like water now. I could see in his body language and eyes what I’d seen hundreds of times before. Alex was completely lost in his own private sexual darkness. A darkness that his conscious mind would never let him experience, never let him admit to. But my cock was shoving his conscious mind to the side and letting the sexual deviant deep inside the muscleboy come out to play. And knowing this just made me all the harder. My mind started swirling with images of what I had planned for this muscleboy. The Jekyll and Hyde started coming out in me, the primal, demanding, twisted, dark muscle daddy. The one that loves the gym as nothing more than his hunting ground for more. More muscle for my own body, and more muscleboy trophies for my collection. My own dark thoughts and Alex mindlessly working my cock and nuts started that all too familiar feeling to begin building. It always starts in my toes and floods up into my legs, cock and nuts. It shoots up into my ass and back and deep into my chest. I could see and feel that Alex was connected enough to my will that he was feeling it too. It was time to stop before things went too far. I didn’t want Alex cumming yet, and I sure as hell didn’t want to cum yet. There would be a time and a place for that, and the deck was definitely not it.

I pulled Alex’s mouth off my cock. It was a struggle. His mouth and his empty little mind were so connected to my cock that it was hard pulling him off. He was like a baby and its pacifier. When I finally did pull him off my cock and tilted his head up, his eyes were so glazed and vacant. He had taken himself deeper than just about any muscleboy I’ve mindfucked. That was perfect. It’s exactly how and where I wanted him.

Using Alex’s stiff cock as my leash, I led him back into my house. I’m here to tell you, the purity of a muscleboy freshly cleansed of his old mentality, naked and vulnerable before me, being led to intense conditioning is a thing of beauty. I walked Alex to the stairs that led to my basement. As we got to the stairs I gave him the old “ten steps down” routine that was part of just about every classic induction. Coincidentally, and I SWEAR to you it is, the flight of stairs to my basement just happened to have ten steps! Lucky me, huh? With each step we took down into the basement, my prized muscleboy went even deeper. Upon reaching the bottom, my Alex was so deep and open. His mind was so receptive and open it was a shame that I didn’t just stop right there and hold him forever in his blissful blankness. But I wanted more from him. And this stud was going to give it to me. All of it.

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