How to be a Muscle Bull Chapter 3: Pleasure

    The mindless euphoric glow of the workout is the pleasurable drug of choice for all good Muscle bulls.

    Others might get pumped and break their bodies for the results; garnering the pleasure from the progress made but the brainwashed muscle bull has turned the very workout itself into an erotic, life changing experience. Every single rep lighting up their nerves, trained to associate the pump with ecstatic pleasure. Every set making their whole bodies writhe and convulse with arousal.

    "One more Set!" becomes less of a resigned cry at the idea of more pain and instead acts akin to moaning in your lovers ear, calling out their name for more.

    The feeling of heat and sweat dripping from your skin setting your world ablaze, consumed by a mindless lust for growth, a hunger for the pump, an unending perverse desire to feel your body grow in real time.

    Blood rushing to your muscles, making them swell and pump up and feel so good even to the point that the soreness and pain become almost orgasmic. Loving the pump so much that it rewrites your mind to make pain into pleasure.

    The muscle bulls entire body becomes his sex organ, throbbing and twitching and getting bigger just like the one between his legs. Feeling that power course through every muscular fibre until all that exists is his body and the gym simply forms another, more potent, erotic ritual. Replacing jerking off, Sex, everything. Working out harder and harder just becomes another form of nymphomania.

    Muscle is all that matters. All that exists is the pump.

    For more resources to embody your Muscle Bro transformation check out these files(1, 2, 3) If you’d like to support the creation of files like the one in this story, or you’d like access to exclusive files and files earlier than the rest of the world, then please, Support me on Patreon, And go and follow me on Youtube for more files. Also be sure to Join me and my community on Discord.


    Jim the Fat!


    Your roommate was proud to show off his fat gut now. When you first met him, he'd been a young, scrawny twink. You decided you'd have to change that. He was rather neurotic about his thin physique at first, but as you were the only one who did the cooking, you had an easy time of changing his mind.

    It seemed every meal of yours gained him a few pounds. Initially he was horrified, but your food was so good, he still wanted to eat it. Even if he tried dieting and exercising it didn't help. The fat clung to him. He wouldn't be leading much of an active lifestyle anymore, especially as he started to age too. You wanted someone a bit more mature living with you, so as he fattened, you started aging him a bit too, a year after every few pounds. He was 20 when you first met him, and 45 now, going on 50.

    Slowly, he started to get used to it, even find the age and fat handsome. Of course, with your constant encouragement, it made sense he would. With maturity came appreciation for his fat body. You both enjoyed it. As he continued to indulge, you'd play with his gut, flatter him, tell him how sexy he was, what a daddy he was. 'Daddy' seemed to suit him at the age he was now, so he requested that you keep calling him that. You were happy to oblige.

    He chuckled as he admired his gut in the mirror. You couldn't help but smile at his satisfaction, "So not embarrassed at your body anymore Dad?" You asked as he grinned, "Embarrassed? What's to be embarrassed about? Son, when you get my age, you can't help but gain a few pounds." You had to agree, as you rubbed his massive, jiggly belly and felt his lovehandles, "That reminds me, you cooking dinner yet, son?" He asked you, as you nodded, "It's in 5he oven right now dad.", "Good, feeling a bit peckish right now. Gonna need a big meal to fill up this tank." You smiled, kissing him, glad to have such a fatherly roommate.


    He felt funny ever since his first swig. He looked at his friend, "Damn, what sorta beer is this?" His friend just smirked, "Bear Beer, I got it for a bargain." He noticed his friend seemed different, oddly burlier and hairier. He hadn't seen him for a few months though, so he didn't realize what had happened.

    Slowly he begun to feel like he was taller somehow. He also noticed how his clothes weren't fitting anymore. He lifted his shirt, expecting to see his svelte body underneath, but only saw a flabby, hairy gut and moobs, and looked in shock as they continued to grow. His friend walked over and grabbed his belly, "Mmm, yeah, I'd say it's working" he chuckled. For some reason he couldn't help but moan as his friend fondled his gut and moobs.


    Your dad could be such a slob sometimes. He’d go around naked, rarely bathed, never cleaned, was a pervert, and farted constantly. He smelled awful, but seemed to embrace it. He often told you how freeing it was if you embraced it, but you were too embarrassed of his raunchy behavior. Still, you put up with him.

    One day, your father called you into his bedroom, telling you he had something he wanted to show you. Hesitantly, you went up, only to see your dad naked on the bed, one leg up in the air. You knew what was coming. A massive blast of hot, rank gas hit you square in the face as he loudly farted. You gagged as he chuckled, “Come on boy, smell it.” You wanted to yell at him, but instead found yourself starting to sniff it more, as dad ripped more farts into the air. Somehow you couldn’t stop. Actually, his farts were starting to smell kinda good.

    “Don’t be afraid, son, get a closer whiff.” He commanded, spreading his legs to rip more ass as you approached, entranced by your father’s hairy, smelly, farting ass. You got closer and closer as dad let more farts fly, until your face was directly in front of hole, snorting the air. Dad grinned, “Go on boy, help yourself. Clean your daddy’s nasty ass.” You couldn’t stop yourself as a smile crept across your face, and you pushed your nose and mouth between he cheeks, happily licking his disgusting hole as he continued to fart down your throat.

    Your dad ruffled your hair as your eagerly ate out his dirty, unwashed asshole, “That’s it boy, eat yer’ dad’s farts.” He chuckled as you rutted yourself against his mattress in pleasure. It tasted amazing to you, all you wanted to do was worship your dad’s stinking ass, his farts, all of him and his smells. “We’ll make a fine pig of you yet boy.” He said with a grin.


    Your friend was becoming such a slob. It started when he got a job working for the local mechanic. He was pretty happy with the job, but you noticed he had started to change. He’d started neglecting his hygiene, and had started to stink. He’d even shaved his head, not wanting to wash his hair anymore. His formerly thin figure was a thing of the past, and it seemed he was getting heavier and heavier. He’d outgrown all his clothes after getting so fat, but didn’t seem to care. Now all he really wore was his boxers and a tanktop, even out in public, and even those barely fit his fat ass. It was “freeing” he told you, apparently not seeing an issue with it. And considering how often he was scratching his own ass now, probably gave him easier access to it.

    His stink got progressively worse, since he no longer showered, and working in the garage, in that heat all day was getting him sweaty and musky. He told you it was a good smell though. Making it even stronger was the farts he’d rip. He told you he’d been pretty gassy, but he was farting constantly. The smell made you a little dizzy sometimes. You weren’t sure why you still put up with it, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, fat and gross as he now was.

    You eventually worked up the nerve to ask him why he was doing this to himself. He just chuckled, telling you you’d understand if you worked at the garage, and how they could always use a new mechanic. You were unsure, but you ended up agreeing to look into it. He’d ripped a nasty fart that made your head swim when he did. You didn’t have any interest in cars, but you figured you should at least check it out, not yet realizing you’d end up like he was soon enough.


    He offers you the cigar. You know that if you take it, you’ll end up becoming like he is, a fat, filthy old man. You don’t have much a choice. You’d met him in a gay bar awhile back. Despite his looks, there was something about him that just attracted you to him. Soon, you were dating him and quickly found yourself embroiled in an odd lifestyle.

    He showed you bizarre fetishes, stuff you didn’t even think was possible. You did whatever he wanted though, there was just this unnatural dominance about him. You could never disagree. Soon he was introducing you to his friends, more old, fat men, and their young lovers like you were. Then it was time for initiation.

    You saw how each of the older men’s partners took a cigar offered to them, how they ended up expanding, how their hair turned gray as body hair grew on their fatter forms in copious amounts, becoming fat, old slobs. Soon it was your turn. Of course, you could never deny him. You took the cigar and puffed on it, with a smile on your face as your belly started to bulge.


    Fuck yes


    So, this is about the third time I’ve tried to construct this same second post; apparently Tumblr has a hate-relationship with the devices I own. Fuck you too, Tumblr!


    One of the first steps I made when I became seriously serious about lifestyle bearding was to begin a supplement regimen. Before deciding on a regimen, I did what any curious nerd would do: I began doing research online. Admittedly, biology was never my science of choice; fortunately, the internet came chock full of interesting information.

    Most of the resources I found online varied in lots of areas, but one thing seemed constant among them: Vitamins and minerals are important for healthy skin and hair growth. More particularly, the popular consensus seemed to be that B Vitamins are among the most important, but that Omega 3s were also plenty important. Also important, apparently, is a well-rounded regimen. So I started looking around.

    A company calledVitabeard has become all the rage among bearding enthusiasts. That company has two supplements, one of which is a beard-targeted multivitamin and the other an Omega-3 formula. The pros are obvious: Nutrients delivered in convenient dosages. The con, though, was that the suggested dosage of three multivitamins + two Omega-3 tablets per day would cost upward of $60 a month. 

    That, my friends, is steep.

    My first version of an alternative regimen is pictured above. While it doesn’t have the convenient dosing that comes with the name-brand supplements, it does have the perk that it’s significantly cheaper. Specifically: I can fund two months of my regimen for the price of one month of theirs. That’s just good economics.

    What’s more? I get more of every essential nutrient with my regimen (2 of each of the above supplements taken two times each per day) than I would get with theirs. I’ll follow up with a post of some of the particulars.

    Since then, I continued doing more research and decided to tinker with some aspects of what I was doing. For example, I opted to trade out the Prenatal with a more quantity-friendly multivitamin because of the danger of iron overdose. I’ll post a follow-up entry to this one soon.


    For beard growrh


    Taking a break after tying you down in the truck bed


    You go that backwards. This is you after you were tied down. When you were struggling you were a skinny, IT manager who liked to play D&D. But when your boss forced you to go on vacation that cabin in the woods was in the wrong place. Tied up in the back of a dirty old pickup bed you dealt with brainwashing, steroids, and a series of other procedures. Now you look like this and gave up on using a computer a long time ago.