Disclaimers/Warning: Mind control, gay sex, and unprotected sex occur.
*
I should have realized something wasn't right three months ago, when I turned eighteen.
I had just graduated from high school and was going into the summer expecting a pretty boring time. I didn't exactly have many friends, and they were all either working or forgetting to invite me places. I didn't have a job since my family was fairly well off (lawyer dad, doctor mom, how they made that work with their busy schedules I'll never know), and I didn't want one, since, well, who wants to work at a job they'd just hate anyways? And I didn't have a girlfriend to distract me from all my woes, since I'd have to actually to talk to a girl for that to happen.
I wasn't bad looking, I guess. As I stared into the vanity mirror that morning, fresh out of the shower, I really began inspecting myself more than I ever had. I didn't have any real fat on me, but no muscle either. My skin was unblemished, but pale. I never had any problems with pimples, even though I hate to wash my face, which I guess was weird, but I figured some people were lucky that way. My face was clean shaven, and I liked that, but I wasn't too fond of any of the body hair I had.
My haircut had volume to it, but no style. I hadn't wanted to stand out at school, or pick the wrong haircut, so I had just let it grow, and then got it cut. Nothing fancy, just what was necessary. The color was at least a nice dark brown. My eyes, though, I narcissistically loved my eyes. I didn't need glasses, so that was a plus, and they were the kind that just shine out of a face, with long lashes framing them. I gazed into the rich brown pools and saw vibrant flecks of gold and green, playing off each other to really perfect the look.
No my eyes were fine the way they were. Everything else would have to change though.
That was the moment when I should have realized something in me had changed. I never obsessed over my image beyond striving to not stand out, and suddenly, I wanted to be perfect and draw everyone's attention. Maybe it was my desire for confidence, or misery at being forgotten that made me overlook it. Whatever it was, I wasn't what I thought of as me anymore.
I walked out of the bathroom, my towel loosely holding on to my waist, my dick swinging in the breeze, and headed down the hall to my bedroom.
"Derek, is that you, honey?" my mom called from her room.
"Yeah, Mom!" I hollered back, anxiously holding my towel up from slipping while I awkwardly stood in the hall to talk to her. "I just got out of the shower."
"Oh, sorry," she said. "I just got called in to the hospital for an emergency C-section. You know how it is."
"Yeah," I said, really wishing she'd hurry up, since I was losing the battle with the towel.
"Do you have any plans today?" she asked.
"Yeah, I think I'm going to head to the gym."
"The gym?" she asked, sticking her head out of her door so she could look at me in shock.
"Yeah, the gym," I told her, a little annoyed that she looked so bemused. "I care about my health, you know."
"Mhm," she hummed sarcastically before ducking back into her. "Have fun I guess, and don't let me see you at the hospital because you lifted the weights wrong."
"Love you too, Ma," I replied before I walked into my room and shut the door.
I sighed with relief and let the towel drop. That was my mom, always worrying about me, but always teasing me at the same time. She was an awesome person and a fantastic doctor who was always willing to help her patients safely through their pregnancy. That's why it was so fucked up that she couldn't have any children naturally, and she and dad had had to adopt me.
Not that I'm complaining. I just wished she could have had one that was truly her own, even though I know she loves me just as much as if I was hers. But that's life.
I looked into my closet and wardrobe for an outfit and realized that just like my looks, everything had to change.
All my clothes were plain and simple, and just like my hair, designed to be as unnoticeable as possible. Nothing here was good.
I sighed. Buying a whole new wardrobe would be expensive, but mom and dad would do it if I said I wanted to have a fresh start at college. Which wasn't entirely untrue.I'd have to buy it at the end of the summer though. I needed to buy clothes that would complement a more muscular tone.
Luckily, I did have a pair of gym shorts for the gym, but I would have to buy more. And for now I'd just have to wear old t-shirts to work out in.
I changed and headed out, starting on a new path to a scary new future.
The next couple months I was brutal to myself. Every day I'd wake up and do some warm up exercises, eat breakfast, then go for a run, then shower and jack off, head to the gym for some weight lifting, then I'd eat lunch, head to the beach and let myself rest in the sun for a couple hours, then swim laps at the pool and head home for dinner.
Twice a week I'd go to the Tang Soo Do studio I'd attended for four years and put everything I had into the training session that night. The other five nights I'd actually practice the moves, which is something I'd never done before.
I carefully counted calories and changed my diet for my day to day needs, eating protein by the buckets to repair all the muscles I was torturing. It was grueling, and every day I felt like my muscles were on fire from morning till night, but still I worked out. It was in no way healthy, but I couldn't stop myself. I felt this want-- no need-- to become a better looking me. And I have to say, it was working.
I didn't think it was possible, but within a week I was seeing results. My shoulders were getting broader, my jaw line more defined, and my biceps started feeling like actual muscle. Within a month I had abs starting to form, my pecs were getting bigger, and even my ass was starting to feel firm.
Two months in I had defined abs, decent looking pecs and biceps, a godly jawline, and thick, but not too thick quads. And by the end of the third I had a v-line and perfectly sculpted muscles showing everywhere. I was done. And I didn't want to question the how of it.
The last night before I headed off to college, Cox University (I know, the name is hilarious, but it's a huge public university in my state that's quite reputable, with programs for just about everybody), I was in the gym one last time, perfecting my biceps with some curls.
I was watching myself in the mirror, and to be honest, was really narcissistic about it and enjoying it. Not only was my body shape and muscles perfect, but I had a nice deep tan that made me look like I spent every day outdoors (even though till recently I most definitely did not). My hair was styled and gelled into a whoosh I guess you would call it, and even my wardrobe was on point. I had a grey tank top with split sides that connect at only on the shoulders and at the bottom, revealing my sculpted abs and pecs. My gym shorts were a red baggy mesh that did little to hide my boner. I had a red baseball cap on that added to the look, along with some stylish workout shoes and socks. I was hot.
But as much I was checking myself out, I was also using the mirror to look at the girl behind me, the only other person in the gym. She was running on the treadmill, her long silky black hair tied up in a ponytail. She was stunning, and her ass looked fucking hot. The yoga pants she was wearing perfectly sculpted to it and her legs, and everything was just absolutely gorgeous. For the first time that I could recall, I felt like I had to fuck someone, and I felt like it had to be now.
The treadmill beeped and started to slow, and she began her cool down walk before finally turning it off and getting down.
I turned my head and saw her wiping off her sweat with a towel and guzzling from a water bottle. She noticed me glancing her way so I did something I'd never done before: I smiled.
She smiled back and walked over to me.
"Hey, I'm Erica," she said, sticking out her hand. "I don't think I've seen you here before."
"Derek," I replied, setting down my weights. I stood up and shook her hand. "And that's because I usually work out in the afternoons, but I'm leaving tomorrow."
"Oh?" she said.
I realized I was still holding her hand and swiftly made to let go, but she tightened her grip, and stroked it, her head lolling back like it somehow gave her pleasure.
"Where to?"
"Does it really matter?" I said boldly, my dick now throbbing in need.
