What Are Friends For?

What Are Friends For?

© by the author 2016

“Tony, it’s Jason. Do you have a few minutes? Got something I want to show you.”

“Sure. Come on up.”

Tony closed the connection. Jason was right on time. At the end of the last session, he had told Jason to come back at 7:00 pm on Saturday. It was now 6:59. Jason had given himself a minute to walk up the two flights of stairs and knock on the door of Tony’s apartment. He wondered what excuse Jason would use this time. It was always interesting to see what pretexts Jason’s conscious mind devised for following the orders Tony had inserted into his subconscious mind. His reasons always sounded plausible. He wanted Tony’s advice about a problem. He needed to borrow something. He had something to show Tony and would like his opinion. Jason never consciously recalled that Tony had programmed him to arrive at a certain time. His subconscious was very aware of the time, however—and very anxious to please Tony.

Jason knocked on the door at exactly 7:00. His grin was so wide it nearly split his face. His body glowed with the anticipation of pleasure. “Hey, bud. How’s it going?”

“Doing fine, Jason.” Tony held the door open and nodded with his own anticipations of pleasures as he watched Jason’s buttocks mound and stretch, sliding up and down past each other, as he sauntered past Tony and into the apartment. “Looking good, man.” Jason’s skin-tight red Lycra briefs did nothing to conceal the monumental development of the few square inches of Jason’s body that lay beneath them. The shorts were so tight that the center seam in back plunged deep into Jason’s ass crack. Jason never overdressed. Tony had long ago implanted the conviction in his mind that he hated clothes. Jason—reluctantly and only as a concession to his “good friend” Tony—wore the minimum demanded by “modesty.”

“I don’t know what you’re worried about, bro. What I got ain’t a mystery. Everybody’s seen some guy’s junk,” he would say, pointing at his groin as if Tony might misunderstand the reference. Today he had on only the briefs and a pair of flip-flops. A small shopping bag dangled by its handles from the fingers of his right hand. Tony couldn’t see the logo on the bag, but the black color was familiar. Jason had been shopping at Beefcakes again.

Good, very good. Tony licked his lips. This was definitely going to be a great night. It always heartened him to see that another aspect of Jason’s programming—an addiction to sexy underwear—was working as planned. Tony loved to see Jason wearing wisps of fabric that revealed more than they concealed. Those few square inches of cloth drew the eye so insistently and focused attention on what they did little to hide. Underwear was one of his fetishes, along with big bodies and docile, obedient musclemen. Fortunately, Jason allowed him to indulge all three simultaneously. Since gaining control over Jason, he had been able to realize what he had only imagined before. It had been his lucky day when Jason walked into his office eight years earlier.

Jason turned around and without conscious thought flexed his muscles to display them to Tony. “Yeah, I’ve been bulking up. The heavier weights I’ve been using these past few weeks have added an inch to my chest and thighs and an inch and a half to my arms.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up.” Not that he needed to say that. It wasn’t as if Jason had a choice about following his training regimen, but it never hurt to reinforce his programming. Every time Tony gave him a command, even one as innocuously worded as “keep it up,” Jason experienced pleasure at the thought of obeying. That made him even more willing to submit and carry out Tony’s wishes. Tony made sure to reinforce the feedback loop in Jason’s mind during their weekly refresher sessions. It was now so strong that Jason experienced an intense rush of pleasure throughout his entire body by doing what Tony told him to do, and only from doing what Tony told him to do. That reward in turn strengthened his desire to obey. “You look great. You gonna be ready for the competition?”

“Yeah, I’m on schedule. That’s what I wanted to see you about.”

“Sure. Whatever I can do to help.”

“I bought some posing straps for the competition. Can you look at them and tell me which one you think looks best on me?”

“My pleasure.”

***

Jason hadn’t always been so willing to display himself to Tony. That had taken a lot of sessions. The first time Jason walked into his office, he had been a fat, twenty-two-year old, with a BMI that had to be close to 50 and no visible muscles at all. Fat Jason was so ashamed of his body and so embarrassed about being seen that he ventured outside during the day only when it was unavoidable. He usually waited until two or three in the morning to do his grocery shopping at the all-night market on Western Drive. What he couldn’t get there or at other places that stayed open all day, he ordered online. He was too shy even to phone the pizza shop that supplied 90 percent of his daily calories—enough calories for an entire frat house. He ordered his pizzas online. The deliverymen at his favorite place knew that they should ring the bell, leave the boxes in front of Jason’s door, and retrieve their tip from under the door mat.

When Jason discovered that he could no longer buy sweat pants that fit around his waist, desperation drove him to seek help. When he came to Tony, he admitted to weighing 350 pounds. Tony suspected that a figure closer to 450 would be nearer the truth, but he didn’t argue. Jason’s lies revealed a lot about his concerns and his self-image. When Jason arrived for his appointment that first day, he hesitated when he saw the chrome and leather chairs in front of Tony’s desk. His butt was at least twenty inches wider than the seats of those chairs could accommodate. He wisely opted to sit on the sofa instead, which was fortunate because his weight would have crushed the metal tubing of the chairs. Even so, the sofa sagged beneath his weight, and his ass spread across the cushions until it occupied most of the space. Anyone already sitting on the sofa would have been engulfed in a tidal wave of Jason-blubber.

Whatever Jason’s weight was, it was too high. And that was a pity. Jason was tall and big-boned. Even without the thick casing of fat, he would have been a large man. Plus, despite his chubby cheeks, he had a good face. If it hadn’t been perched above a double chin that had to measure 30 inches, most people would have thought Jason handsome.

Jason had been nervous about being hypnotized. The first session had been so unsatisfactory that Tony didn’t expect him to return. But Jason came back. He wanted to succeed, and he had decided that hypnosis was his last hope. He was convinced that he didn’t have the will power to succeed on his own, and he looked to Tony’s skills to give him the resolve he lacked. “If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he told Tony. “Give up, I guess, and order a half-dozen extra-large pizzas with everything on them, and wash them down with a case of beer.”

The next three appointments hadn’t gone much better. Finally Tony made Jason drink a glass of vodka, and that relaxed him enough to the trick. It wasn’t so much that the alcohol put Jason into a trance, as that he thought it would help him enter a trance. The alcohol gave him an excuse for relaxing and accepting the hypnosis, and it took only ten minutes of listening to Tony’s soothing and relaxing voice for him to succumb and go into a deep trance.

It took several more sessions to instill the overwhelming need to lose weight and to implant the idea of working out in Jason’s mind. By that point, Jason had become so susceptible to hypnosis that he was open to doing whatever Tony wanted. Initially Tony had intended the bodybuilding to be nothing more than a way to improve Jason’s overall health. He hadn’t expected it to have the breath-taking results it did. The pendulous boobs of fat hanging from Jason’s collar bone nearly to his waist had gradually disappeared, to be replaced by melon-shaped mounds of hard flesh accented by rigid, dark nipples. Quivering, sagging flesh became crisply outlined taut muscles. Veins corded the surface of his skin and throbbed over swollen protrusions of dense, compact power. His sixty-inch waist shrunk to 28 inches. His sagging buttocks hardened into mounds supporting his enormous torso. He struggled to find pants that fit over his enormous thighs.

At first Jason was nothing more than a client, another of Tony’s success story, but as Jason’s body expanded and his muscles emerged from the layers of fat that once covered them, Tony’s goals for Jason changed. As the behemoth that now stood before him materialized, Tony had found other uses for Jason.

One of the suggestions he had put into the new Jason’s mind was to get him to move into the same apartment building, so that Jason would be on call whenever Tony wanted. “You need to get away from the bad associations of your old place and be somewhere you can come to me for help when you need it.” Jason had nodded enthusiastically and immediately phoned the rental agent to lease the vacant apartment on the third floor.

Tony had also trained Jason to be comfortable showing his body off, especially to him. Jason never wore clothes inside his own apartment. Outside he seldom wore anything but Lycra bicycle briefs that barely covered his groin or an absurdly small thong when he used the swimming pool. The old lady on the first floor had complained about the new tenant running around “half-naked,” but Tony noticed that she never passed up an opportunity to ogle Jason’s crotch. He didn’t blame her. He never missed an opportunity either. Nor did anyone else. Jason’s crotch was definitely worth a good, hard look. No one who saw Jason swagger past in those tight shorts or that minuscule excuse for a swimming suit needed to ask if Jason was cut or uncut.

Another aspect of Jason’s programming was that he was totally unaware of the impact of his new body on others. He never noticed the jaws dropping open in amazement. He paid no attention to the gasps of surprise and the swiveling heads that greeted his body as he walked past. He remained oblivious to the lascivious licking of lips, the spontaneous groans and moans of desire, the sudden bulging of groins, the hormonal reek of lust that his presence generated. With help from Tony, Jason regarded himself as too small, not ripped enough, not vascular enough. When he looked into a mirror, he didn’t see the humungous, overwhelming bulk that intimidated passers-by and made other men, even other bodybuilders, feel inadequate. No, what he saw was the old fat Jason looming behind a fragile facade, ready to explode into prominence once again if he slacked off and neglected his training. That was what drove him now—the determination never again to be anything but the largest, most ripped, most vascular muscle freak in the world. That is why he spent his days exercising his body, why he forced himself to lift heavier and heavier weights and devote more and more time to getting bigger and bigger.

But even so his body wasn’t the most important thing in Jason’s life. That came a distant second to pleasing Tony.

***

“I got six posing straps, in different colors.” Jason reached into the bag and pulled out the straps. He dropped them in a heap on Tony’s coffee table. “What do you think? Which one will I look best in?”

Tony poked at the straps with a finger. Today Jason was going to give him a special treat. Maybe Jason didn’t think about it consciously, but at some level his mind paid attention to what aroused Tony and he loved to devote himself to stimulating his “savior.” He had observed Tony’s appreciative reactions to the sight of his body displayed in skimpy underwear and was doing all that he could to trigger a strong response. That desire was part of his programming. He couldn’t resist it.

Tony lifted one of the straps by the string that served as a waistband and examined it. “It’s hard to tell with them just lying there. Why don’t you try all of them on? That way I can see which one looks best on you.”

Jason didn’t hesitate. As soon as Tony spoke, his hands grasped the waistband of his briefs. It took more time and effort for him to remove them than it would other men, however. The shorts were so tight and Jason’s buttocks and thighs were so huge now that he had to curl the fabric into a roll to peel the shorts off his hips and over his quads. His cock and balls sprang free as he liberated them from the confines of their Lycra prison and then swung from side to side as he alternated working the briefs an inch or so down first his right leg and then his left leg. Tony didn’t mind. As far as he was concerned, Jason could take all the time he needed to get his clothes off. He enjoyed the show—from all angles. It was an absolute pleasure to watch the play of muscles in Jason’s butt and thighs and the swaying of Jason’s balls and cock as he struggled to undress. When Jason finally got the briefs past his knees, he bent over and stepped nimbly out of them. The action exposed his ass to Tony. Good, he had had a Brazilian that week. From his balls to the top of the ass crack, his flesh was as shiny and smooth as the rest of his body.

“Which one should I put on first? Do you have a preference?” Tony noted the tentativeness in Jason’s voice. The programming was working. In Tony’s presence, Jason reverted to the insecure fat kid craving, needing approval. Still, it never hurt to strengthen Jason’s eagerness to defer to his wishes. Tony made a mental note to reinforce that need in Jason during their next weekly session.

Tony leaned over the coffee table and arranged the posing straps in a row. “Start with the black one,” he said.

Jason picked the black strap up and shook it out. He pulled it over his right leg first and then his left leg. He smoothed it around his groin and then adjusted the narrow waistband so that it lay flat on his body. Finally he spread his buttocks and threaded the thin strip of fabric between them. “What do you think? Is it OK?”

Jason’s cock and balls distended the strap and pulled it away from his body. In truth, there wasn’t a strap large enough to contain his junk. Jason couldn’t arrange his cock so that it lay to the left or right. It was so long that it would have protruded at the sides of the strap. His solution was to stow it away by placing it down the middle, so that it was atop his balls. That didn’t solve the problem, however. The elastic in the posing strap forced his balls into a swollen sphere the size of a baseball that pushed his cock even further away from his body. A good three inches of his shaft were visible at the top of the strap, and, despite technically being covered by the fabric of the strap, the head pointed directly forward.

“Walk around a bit so that I can how it looks when you move.”

Jason strutted to the other end of the room and then turned around and walked back toward Tony. He spread his arms away from this body and raised his hands in a querying gesture.

“Do a double biceps pose for me.”

Jason lifted his arms to shoulder height, and then flexed. His biceps sprang out from his arms as if dense globes of steel were under the skin.

“It’s OK.” Tony shrugged. “But it doesn’t draw the eye though. It’s too plain. Try the other colors.”

One after the other, Jason put on each of the straps in the order Tony had arranged them on the table. Blue, white, silver, gold, pink, and finally red.

“That’s the best one,” Tony said. “You look best in red.”

“OK. Red it is, then.”

“But isn’t it too tight? It must feel like it’s clutching your cock and balls.”

As soon as Tony said that, Jason felt the strap tighten and mold itself to his contours of his groin. It was as if the fabric were suddenly giving him a blow job. He gave a start of surprise. Instantly the strap adjusted to his movements, clinging even tighter to his cock and balls.

“It must be hard not to get excited,” said Tony.

“Yeah,” moaned Jason. “It’s hard.”

“It’s getting very hard,” Tony said.

Jason’s cock sprung to its full length, pulling the strap out from his groin a good seven inches.

“Very nice,” said Tony. “But not as big as usual. You need your injections.”

“Yes, need injections,” said Jason. His eyes blinked rapidly as he went into a waking trance.

“Good boy. Get ready for your injections.”

Tony unbuttoned his shorts and let them drop to the floor. He kicked them away. In preparation for Jason’s visit, he had taken his briefs off earlier. He waggled his cock. That was the signal Jason was waiting for. He crouched on all fours, his mouth open and positioned just below the head of Tony’s cock.  

“Now, remember, the injection works best if you take it slowly.”

“Yes, Tony, slowly.” Jason nodded obediently. He began running his tongue over the entire length of the shaft, savoring each inch of it.

He glanced up at Tony. The look of devotion and dedication on his face nearly made Tony cum. His control over Jason was so powerful a stimulus. That more than the physical act was the real aphrodisiac. So much strength, so much body, entirely his. Tony gloried in the sight of the strong man kneeling before him, sucking his cock. Jason’s shoulders extended for a good eighteen inches on either side of his thick neck. Below them his mammoth pecs bulged out in front, as did his buttocks in back. And Jason was totally under his control. He did whatever Tony told him to do. He never hesitated to carry out a command or adopt a suggestion. He loved obeying Tony.

The huge puppet began mewling with delight as he licked Tony’s cock. When Tony said, “That’s enough preparation. Start sucking on it,” Jason’s lips closed around the head of Tony’s cock. A fraction of an inch at a time, he slowly drew the entire length into his mouth and down his throat. He slid his tongue up and down over the bottom side and sucked in until his mouth and his throat muscles contracted around Tony’s cock on all sides. His programming kicked in, and he focused all his energies on what he thought of as his “oral injection.”

Tony stroked Jason’s head. “You love your protein shake, don’t you, Jason.”

Jason nodded and moaned.

“Remember, Jason, the better you make me feel, the more protein shake I produce. That will help you build an even bigger body. My injections make you stronger and stronger.”

Jason devoted the next forty-five minutes to helping Tony deliver a mammoth protein shake.

When Tony stopped shaking from the force of the orgasm, he said, “I’ll need to rest an hour or so while I prepare the anal injection. Why don’t you show me your posing routine?”

In the course of Jason’s therapy, Tony had learned that his protégé had been a virgin when he showed up the first time. At least a virgin in the sense that he had never had sex with an actual person. He masturbated frequently, but he considered himself so unattractive that he couldn’t bring himself to risk rejection by approaching someone else for sex. After eight years of treatments, Jason was still a virgin in the sense of penetrating someone else with his cock. Tony had fostered the strong belief in him that his pursuit of the perfect body would suffer a setback if he came. Tony had programmed Jason to experience orgasms—incredible, mind-blowing orgasms—but they came not from ejaculations but from measuring himself and discovering that he had grown even bigger. Hard, massive muscles were now Jason’s version of sexual gratification. One great thing about that was that since Jason was a virgin, Tony didn’t have to worry about diseases. He didn’t have to wear a condom. Nor did he have to worry that anyone else would provide Jason the sexual release he reserved for himself.

Jason didn’t think of the “injections” as sex. For him, they were a favor Tony performed for him. To Jason the injections were “protein shakes” that provided dietary supplements that helped his body grow. Other bodybuilders risked their health by taking steroids, but he, with the help of his good friend Tony, avoided that. Instead, “Dr. Tony” supplied him with his specially formulated nutritional supplement, which he made just for Jason. Jason never told anyone else about it—he had promised Tony to keep it a secret because Tony could make enough only for one person and didn’t want others to pressure him for injections. Tony’s protein shakes were Jason’s secret weapon in his quest to be the biggest and best.

Tony had Jason run through his posing routine several times. When he was recharged, he told Jason to bend over at the waist and grasp his ankles. He lifted the posing strap out of the way and massaged lube over Jason’s anus. He stuck first one and then two fingers into Jason’s hole.

Jason groaned in anticipation. “I like the anal injections best,” he said. They’re much better than the oral injections. The injection device feels so good inside me. I mean I like the oral injections. Don’t get me wrong. The device feels great when I suck on it, but it feels even better in my ass.”

“You love your injections, Jason. Both of them—the oral and the anal—are necessary for your health. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Tony, I know that.”

“Good boy.”

Jason groaned again. “Please, Tony, I think I’m ready.”

“Be patient, Jason. Just a few minutes more and you’ll be prepped.” Tony rubbed his fingers of one hand over Jason’s prostate, as he massaged the head of Jason’s dick with the fingers his other hand. The fabric over his the head of Jason’s cock became sticky with pre-cum. “Now remember. It’s OK to become excited and get hard, but it’s not OK for you to cum. Understand?”

“Yes, Tony.”

Tony stabbed his cock into Jason in one swift thrust. He could have eased it in, but he liked how the swift plunge in made Jason’s anal ring spasm and contract around his cock. He liked Jason’s gasp of pleasure as his programming took over. Tony grasped Jason by the hips and guided the big man’s body as his puppet repeatedly and slowly flexed his buttocks. “That’s the way, Jason. No hurry. Just milk my cock—just milk the injector with your body. In and out. Squeeze it. Not too hard. Gently. Oh, that’s good. That’s perfect. Just keep doing that.”

Jason kept doing it for half an hour before Tony blasted six injections into him.

***

Jason stood in the doorway to Tony’s apartment. He had reluctantly put his briefs back on only after Tony had pointed out to him that the red posing strap was a “little worse for wear.”

“Thanks for helping me choose a posing strap, Tony, and for giving me the injections.”

“Hey, what are friends for? It was my pleasure, Jason. Come back on Monday at 7:00 pm. I’ll have your next batch of injections ready by then.”