Dumb Musclehead - Tumblr Posts
Lifting Up and Dumbing Down Part 42
“Looking good, Harry,” you low as you tower over the man who had first nudged you into your incredible metamorphosis. He panted and huffed as he pushed the bar up again and again in rigid form. “I can’t ... believe I’m doing this,” he grunted. The agent’s arms trembled as he puffed out several short breaths, struggling to reach that top. “Image is an important part of any business deal, Harry. To negotiate from a position of strength, one must be a pillar of strength,” Hank said as he looked on calmly from the side. Then he looked over at you. “By the way, I like the new design. The gym logo looks good on you.” You grin, bouncing your pecs, which causes the golden bicep and upper arm that is the gym’s logo to “flex” over your chest. “Your gym is the best! How could I not agree to be your top model?” Hank cleared his throat. “While I appreciate the flattery, I believe you have some more ... pressing matters to deal with.” He pointed down to where a beet-faced Harry was struggling to maintain his position as his arms locked in place. Your eyes widened and you quickly dove in to intercede. “I got you, Harry.” “It’s I’ve,” Harry grunted as you began to lift the bar ever so slightly for him. “No, I’m pretty sure your name is Harry,” you reply with a completely straight face. “Unless you’ve been lyin’ to me?” “God, you’re such a dumbass,” Harry swore as the bar finally landed above its resting point and dropped into place. “Well, uh, yeah,” you say, still not getting it. “It’s good to be a dumbass, cause that’s what a muscleman is, and it’s good to be a muscleman, so it’s good to be a dumbass. Just a big, buff, ... burly, ... brawny....” you slur off as that familiar pleasure and emptiness strike at your brain again. Hank frowned, then called your name. “Why don’t you go prep the weight machines for your group session tonight?” “Huhuhuh. Sure thing, Coach,” you low, then turn and lumber away. “A good muscleman obeys.” Hank watched carefully as you made your way through the gym’s patrons towards the Staff Only closet. He watched as you withdrew the weight machine control key and various cleaning supplies, along with a set of stanchions to cordon off the machines that were to be used that night. Content that you were thoroughly diverted, he rounded on Harry and glared. “You don’t ever insult my musclemen, especially not my new ones. You’re damn lucky he didn’t listen to the Loud and Proud track, or you would be little more than a smear I have to clean up off the floor.” He snatched Harry’s workout shirt in one mammoth fist and yanked the man to eye level. “I’m the one in charge here. I’m the alpha. You are the gum on the bottom of my shoe. I allow you to stay, but I can take away everything from you just as quickly, then cast you aside. I could make you fatter than the Stay Puff marshmallow man, more timid than a wild rabbit, and more sensitive than a butterfly. See how well you broker deals, after that.” Harry gulped. “Clearly, you need more training. Perhaps walking a mile in their shoes will help you to have a little more patience for them in the future.” “Um, that’s all right, Sir. I-I’ve learned my lesson. I promise. Scout’s honor.” Harry chuckled nervously as he watched the predatory sneer pull across Hank’s face. “Good. That means it’s time for a new one. Conditioning time, Harry.” Harry’s eyes widened, then he gasped and his body went limp. “Ready to receive,” he uttered in a dull monotone. Hank lowered the man back to the floor. “Report to sound room C. You have a new persona to incorporate.” “Yes, Sir. I understand.” Harry turned smartly and marched straight for the STAFF ONLY door near the shake bar. Meanwhile, Hank raised his digital watch and tapped a few buttons on its screen. When an affirming tweet sounded in his ears, he smirked, then turned to look back at your well-toned deltoids and carved lats stretching the fabric on your shirt. “I can’t wait to make you bigger,” he purred.