Man Up (Patreon)

She gently stroked his hair while she watched him struggle to keep up with the screen. This was going to be Netflix and crash, as tired as he looked. He’d been working hard all day, so she didn’t begrudge him the rest, but she also had needs that required attention. She’d been thinking about him all day at the office, having the breakfast conversation going on loop. One of his shirt buttons had opened when he sat down by the kitchen table. He wasn’t fat but had a bit of a belly, and since they moved together it had been growing. Working from home hadn’t helped either. She regretted mentioning it even before he answered. Her words clearly hurt him, so she was quick to the rescue. Telling him how much she loved him. Telling him they should do some activity together to burn off some calories. It hadn’t been an overt sexual suggestion, but all throughout the day she had alternated between thinking about them working out together in the gym, or just having sex with each other, again often in the gym.

As his half-shut eyes tried to follow the plot she bit her lip and decided there are other things than sex they could do together to address the horniness she had worked up over the day. It was a few years since the last time, but during high school she had done more than her share of hypnosis. First it was just a game, she didn’t even think she seriously hypnotized anyone, but after a while it was clear that some people for sure were influenced. Some easier than others, but if you just got them to that place where they trust you and listens to you uncritically, you could have them agree to anything that was internally logically consistent. She had turned more than a few of her classmates into loser skater bums. Turns out almost everyone can be reasoned into being lazy with little resistance, and with the class average plummeting she got much better grades than she really deserved. She felt a little guilty over those six people whose futures she screwed over, but it was their own free will, though heavily influenced by her. But feeling guilty she didn’t pick up hypnosis again in college. She emptied her wine glass and made up her mind.

- Are you tired honey?
- Mmm.
- Just close your eyes and continue to listen to my voice. It’s gonna feel so good tomorrow when you wake up after a long night's sleep. I want you to pay attention to your entire body. Think about everything you feel.

She had done a variation of this induction hundreds of times, but never for someone who was so tired, so trusting, and so ready to be hypnotized. Normally she would do a plan, to cram as many triggers and reinforcements into one session as possible, but if she could make a solid quick induction trigger she could reinforce or adjust him whenever she needed. Or wanted. If she was horny before she was positively flowing by now. There was a flicker of a doubt that hypnotizing her boyfriend, without consent, and while tipsy and horny, wasn’t the best idea, but such concerns were quickly drowned out by the last of the wine and the amazing feeling of hypnotizing her boyfriend, without consent, while tipsy and horny.

- Hey, love, wake up.
- Uuuuuh. Whattimeisit….
- 7:30-ish. I’ve made breakfast.
- You did what?
- I’m hungry. I woke up early on the couch and decided for a morning run.

She turned towards him and looked at him for the first time. He was wearing some old anime T-shirt and a pair of basket shorts, usually only used to lounge in. His hair looked damp, his face is flush, and there were a few sweat spots on the T-shirt. “What the fuck was I thinking?” was the first thought through her mind. After having worked on the triggers, she had free-formed on health and diet exercise until the wine bottle was empty. She had doubted he even heard half of it, but whatever went in apparently stuck. She felt that tingle again, between her legs.

- You didn’t take a shower between running and making breakfast?
- I… no, I… eeh…

He looked even more flustered, looking towards the kitchen and unsure what to say. Like a cute schoolboy getting caught not having done his homework.

- Good! I want you to fuck me as hard as you can. I want us to have to change the sheets. Then showers. Then breakfast.

The second time was much more deliberate. She was prepared, she was completely sober, and went in with a plan. They were both in front of the TV again, and he was browsing through Netflix for what they would watch.

- Hey did you watch this already?
- We both did, but you fell asleep.

He wore sweatpants and sweatshirt, from deep inside the closet. His normal weekend clothes were in the laundry, as he had a morning run today as well. She was sure he would agree to what she was about to order him to do, but it just excited her so much more if he didn’t have a choice. She had everything written down on a note in her pocket. Macros, portion sizes, schedule, exercises, sets, reps, rest times, weights, everything. What gym he would sign up to. What supplements he would buy. She was ready. Time for the trigger word.

- Why don’t we watch “Conan the Barbell”

She was emotionally all over the place the following week. She was scared that he at any moment would drop whatever he had in his hands, and stare at her with a horrified or disgusted expression, asking her what the fuck she was doing. How could she betray his trust like that? Take advantage of him and make him do things he never asked for, change who he was, what he wanted, reshaping even how he looked?

She suspected instead of falling limp and relaxed with a blank stare when she said the trigger phrase, he would turn to her, smile and say he only played along. That he liked what she was trying to do. That finally there was a way to look the way he had always wanted. Then he would wrap his arms around her and passionately kiss her.

Instead he just silently reorganized his life as she had told him. Things that before had been essential became unimportant. With his new schedule of morning run, breakfast, prepped lunch, afternoon gym he was up earlier than ever, and in bed early as well. He barely touched his computer except for work, and the post dinner TV was replaced by hypno sessions. She felt guilty and incredibly horny. This was all like school again, when she made Megan give up band practice to instead smoke weed with the boys over at the park. She was so torn between having him make love to her right there on the couch, or actually reinforcing his programmed desire for hypertrophy. Intellectually she realized the risks by telling him what to do, how to work out, while aroused by what she described, but what other options had she? It simply was too hot for her not to.

Whatever restraints had been there during the week, the weekend was explosive. Not even when they just started dating had they been that physical for an entire weekend. He still stuck to the schedule though, morning cardio, afternoon gym, and all the right macros in between. She felt like looking at a cute puppy doing a trick you’ve taught it when he sheepishly excused himself from her obvious flirtation to go to the gym. “Hold that thought” he said, and she was a mess of contradicting emotions. Lust, greed, envy, pride. “Can you jog there and back, so you get back warm.”. He didn’t respond but just threw the car keys in a long arc, hitting the key basket, kissed her, and dashed out the front door.

That Sunday they went to the mall and stocked up on workout attire. He wasn’t all that happy with her choices for him, lots of compression gear that wasn’t very flattering, but resigned himself. She already had a plan, which she felt guilty for already before the cashier. She could use the fact that the clothes didn’t hide his body to create a desire to look good in them. But it required a bit of pain and humiliation on the way.

Five weeks, a little over a month, was all it took until he looked like he belonged in the clothes. His old clothes had already started to not sit quite right. It was the form-fitted stuff that went first. Suit pants, jackets and shirts. She convinced him to not buy any replacements. It’s better to buy them when you really need them, so you know they will fit right, she told him. She didn’t even need to hypnotize him.

Four days later she did hypnotize him. She made him hate all formal clothes. It’s not like he needed them, working from home. He threw out the ties, the thin socks and the polished shoes on his own the morning after.

It was addictive to her, to wield her power. She started to search the new regimens to boost muscle growth, different kinds of sports therapy massage she pampered him with, different kinds of supplements she ordered online and spiked his morning shake with. She loved the way she slowly took over his life, controlling his desires, his looks. It felt like a betrayal to her when she found him with a new spring hand grip trainer, to exercise the forearms. She realized it was silly. She had made him want to work on his body. This was the result of her actions. Still, she wanted to be the one to tell him to buy one. She knew it was childish to take revenge on him for it, but just as he finished up his morning run the morning after, did he get a strong desire to have a haircut. Something more athletic. Machine short on the sides, for sure.

She was kind of sad to see the flannel shirts go, but the reason, his ever widening shoulders made it all worth it. Besides, she could always get him a new shirt, though it might take some real convincing. He was now comfortable at showing quite a lot of skin anywhere they went, not that he had much of a choice. The only tops left in his wardrobe were some sweatshirts and hoodies, a compression top, but otherwise just stringers and sleeveless T-shirts. She saved some of his anime T-shirts, cutting off the sides so he could fit his arms through them.

She could tell that he was equally happy that she was with him at the gym, and vexed that he couldn’t do his routine uninterrupted. She had brought with her a bunch of chains of different types to try out on him while he worked out. She didn’t want the necklace to become a hindrance, of course, but she also had a very specific aesthetic in mind.

The first one was a no go immediately. Sure, it fit nicely around his neck and down a bit on his chest, but didn’t quite reach down to his pecs. His thick neck also made it look too tight for her taste.

The second one was much better. It made a loop down over the pecs, and the weight of the chain made it lie flat against his skin, making a not just a simple U-shape, but actually accentuating his defined chest. “Go” she told him, and he did one set of what they had agreed on. Burpees, lunges, curls. The chain wasn’t long enough to become a problem, and returned to look the same after.

The next chain was thinner and looked similar once on, but after one set of exercises looked more like a Y-shape, where the chain had fallen into the cleavage between his pecs.

The fourth one however was the standout. It created a U shape over his chest, but the lowest part hung like a suspension bridge between his pecs, creating a bit of a shadow and constantly jiggling as he moved. It was like a magnet. It would be impossible to not look at his chest, as long as he wore a tank top, which he absolutely would.

- Happy anniversary, she blurted out and kissed him.
- What? I’m sorry, I missed… What anniversary?
- Today is one year since you started working out.
- You kept track of that?
- Better than you think.

How was it he could easily bench press any furniture from the house or run for an hour straight, but having sex with her made him more exhausted than either of those, he wondered as he lay in bed with her on his pillow of an arm. He took a deep breath of apple blossom conditioned hair and post intercourse sweat and fluids. For a short moment he considered going to the kitchen and shake together a post-workout jug, but why ruin such a moment. He had everything he wanted right there. He moved in tighter to her, and put his other monster arm around her.

- I like this.
- I.. You never had a choice. I’m sorry.
- I like being the big spoon.
- You’re a ladle.

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