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The Journey Towards Becoming The Man I Was Meant To Be (m4m)

by rubbermusclepig

The Journey Towards Becoming The Man I Was Meant To Be (m4m)

Chapter 1

As I stood outside the door of the house, I thought of how far I had come. I looked down at my body - clad in a tight t-shirt, pecs bulging beneath the thin fabric, cannonball delts, biceps stretching the short sleeves, veins exposed and visible. I never thought I would look like this, though I had been lifting for years.

Two years ago, I resigned from my job with a large corporation - at 47, I was too young to retire, but I was definitely ready for a year off. I traveled, learned new sporting skills, landscaped my yard, and spent time with family and friends. It was a productive, relaxing year. But as I came to the end of my "year off" I realized that there was something that i craved - something that I desired, though I didn't know what it was. Or perhaps I did. Perhaps on some level I always knew, but I didn't have the focus to examine it clearly.

It started with a desire to get past the plateau on which I found myself with respect to my bodybuilding routine. I had been working hard. Logging my routines. Focusing on technique. And I had seen some gains. But not enough. I wanted to build BIG muscle. And I remember reading about hypnosis as a motivator for working out - not something that would magically make my body bigger, but something that would work with my already existing motivation and cause me to go for it all.

So I began where anyone would start these days - on the internet. I studied. I did research. I spoke online with others more knowledgeable than I. But what really got me involved in hypnosis was attending a conference. It was about a year after I left my job. About a year ago, now, I guess. It was a place where I could network with others of the same mindset. Where I could hear about the latest techniques. Where I could explore this desire that I had, and turn myself into the man I wanted to become. And it was while at the the conference that I was introduced to a new concept. Or was it new? Maybe it was something that I knew that I needed all along.

It was in one of the presentations about surrendering of control to one's hypnotist that I began to think of submission. It was an odd concept for me, from the point of view of my conscious mind. i had had a high powered career, managing lots of people, and overseeing task forces, committees, and entire programs for the corporation at which i was employed. I was the one that was in charge. And I had enjoyed it. But now, I began to think more of my deep, inner self. I began to think of my need to submit. And I realized (with somewhat of a shock) that this was as important a piece of my character as any other. I was so astounded by this realization that after the presentation, I went into the bar of the hotel and ordered a cocktail. I needed to think.

"Good evening, may I join you?" The voice was mellifluous and soothing. I could feel myself relaxing just at the sound of that voice. I looked up out of my reverie into a pair of piercing green eyes, set deeply in a handsome, if unconventional face. I recognized one of my co-attendees at the seminar that I had just left. I invited him to join me.

"I couldn't help but notice you in the seminar on surrendering control," he said. "You were very attentive. I could see that you have been thinking of hypnosis for a while, and are eager to further explore how this can be of benefit to you. What are you looking for?"

I told him of my desire to build muscle, and to use hypnosis to help me achieve my goals. Of my desire to use hypnosis to attend to my diet. To give me the sense of using food as fuel, with the goal of bulking up or cutting. Of my desire to compete. And then (whether it was because of the soothing, comforting nature of his voice, or because I felt the pull of his eyes) I started to talk about what had struck me so suddenly at the end of the seminar. I began to more open than I would have thought possible on such short acquaintance. But I somehow sensed that it wouldn't be 'too much information.' This man seemed to want to know these things. He wanted me to be open. And I wanted to be open. I told him everything that was going on in my mind. I told him of the deep recesses within my soul.

"Many people that are seeking to be hypnotic subjects have a subconscious need to submit. To be submissive. Some part of what they want might be, as you mention, the desire to use hypnosis to help them achieve some aspect of their life that they want to change. For example, in your case, to increase your desire to lift weights. To eat better. To compete. To make your body into the muscular sculpture that you desire it to be. To utilize the addition of a flexing routine to increase your results. (And parenthetically, it seemed, as if from very far away, I heard his voice say "You like to flex, don't you?") But underneath it all, there is often a desire to be submissive. To let go. To allow yourself to be brought deep into trance......... You feel it, don't you? That call. That need."

I knew it was right. I knew that it was what I wanted. But I didn't know how this man knew. How could he know more about my inner thoughts than I knew? But I knew that I wanted more.

We talked for a long time. I appreciated his thoughtful insight. I appreciated the thorough and easy to comprehend answers to my questions. It was an odd feeling, but I felt so relaxed as we were talking. The time seemed to stretch on for hours, as we sat there sipping our drinks, and talking. About me. About him. About what I liked. About what he liked. It turned out that he had several years of experience as a hypnotist and that one of his major interests was bodybuilding. He was frank about the fact that he liked how my body was looking and he was happy that I had the desire to make myself bigger - to build big muscle. Somehow he divined that this was something that I needed. And we began to talk about what actions I could take to move towards my goal. I liked hearing him talk. I liked hearing myself reply. I enjoyed our conversation. So much so that I was somewhat disappointed when he stood up.

"I have enjoyed our conversation," he said. I can tell that you have enjoyed it too." As he said these words, the piercing green of his eyes seemed to bore, like a gimlet, into my soul. He laid a hand on my shoulder. It was gentle, yet felt strangely heavy. "I hope to see you again." Then he was gone.

I don't know how long I sat there. I don't know exactly what my thoughts were. I was lost in a reverie. Another, very different hand brought me back to myself. "I am so sorry," an apologetic female voice said. "We are closing the lounge now, and I am going to have to ask that you finish up your drink. Or you can take it to your room, if you'd like." I looked around the bar. I was the only one there. I looked at my drink. The ice had melted, and the glass was sweating. There was a ring of moisture on the coaster. I could tell that the drink had been sitting there for a while. In fact, four hours had passed. The odd thing was that although it was late, I felt fresh and alert. The other odd thing was that my muscles felt pleasantly sore. As though I had been working out. I put my hand down on my pec. It was firm. My nipple was erect......I roused myself with a shake of my head, smiled at the hostess, who was looking at me with a bemused expression on her face. I brought out my wallet to pay for my drink, and she smiled and shook her head. "No need," she said. It has been taken care of already. Good night."

I left the glass on the table and headed to the elevator and up to my floor. I had a great room, with a fantastic view of Lake Michigan. Chicago really was one of my favorite towns. Tomorrow, I thought, I would have to go on an architectural tour. There was some time in the program, set aside for the attendees to explore. I began to plan where I would go and what I would do. There was pleasurable anticipation in my thoughts.

I swiped my key card and opened the door into my room. I wandered over to the large windows. The turn down service had been done (complete with chocolate on the pillow) and the maid had opened the drapes. The view was astounding, under the moonlight. I gazed out contemplatively. I was roused by a gentle tap on the door. "Who could that be?" I thought, even as I was awaiting the typical singsong "Housekeeping...." called out from the other side of the door, though I couldn't imagine why housekeeping would be coming to my room so late at night. And as that thought entered my head, I again marveled that I was so wide awake. Even though it was so late. Hearing no announcement from hotel staff, I moved from the window towards the door, and looked through the peephole.

To this day, I don't know if I should have been surprised. To this day, I don't know if I should have been alarmed. There, on the other side of the door, was my tete-a tete from earlier on in the bar. All that I know is that as I looked through the small lens into those compelling eyes, that I felt nothing but desire. And I knew that it was right. I opened the door........

To be continued.


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