Anxiety Dream

[musclpkg]

I was in the pump room at a bodybuilding competition. All around me, mostly-naked muscle men pumping and flexing in front of mirrors. Strutting around flaunting their muscles, bulging in their little trunks, trying to intimidate each other. What was I doing there? I wasn't a bodybuilder. Bodybuilders look disgusting. I tried to leave but then I looked in the mirror and saw a huge, muscled-up version of myself. Holy shit! How did I get this way? I now saw that the clothes I was wearing were way too small. My t-shirt looked like it belonged to a child, stretched over my torso like it was. It barely came down to my navel and my shoulders were bulging out of the tiny sleeves. My jeans were like sausage casings around my huge thighs. I was some kind of disgusting muscle-freak. One of the bodybuilders came over to me and put his hand on my huge bicep, which for some reason I lifted up and flexed for him and it was the size of a football. "Lookin' good, dude," he said, smiling. My heart started pounding and I felt I had to get out of there. What had I suddenly become? But instead of leaving, I started to get undressed. It was hard because of how extremely tight my clothes were. When I finally got my shirt off I saw I had an audience. Several of the guys who were getting ready to compete had stopped what they were doing and were staring at me in the mirrors. My torso was huge and packed with muscles. I had big wide pecs like you see in those bodybuilding magazines. I had abs that looked like cobblestones. I was freaking out and starting to sweat but something kept me there and I started to take off my pants. I had to peel them down my legs they were so tight. Underneath I was naked and now I saw that my dick was also much huger than it had been before. It swung out in front of me like a pendulum. I reached into my bag for my posing trunks -- posing trunks?! -- and pulled out a tiny scrap of stretchy red material that looked like... I don't know what it looked like, I had never seen these before, but I knew I had to put them on. I was totally humiliated in front of all the big men watching me, the whole room was quiet now, and everyone was staring. I had never been so embarrassed in my life as I stepped through the little straps and pulled the suit up my thighs. There was no fucking way I was going to get my newly huge dick and my swinging balls into these things. Was there even any pouch in front? I saw that there was, but it was tiny, but also very stretchy. I tried to catch the head of my cock in it, had to stretch the waistband way out to do that, and then felt the strap in the rear slide up between my glutes -- oh my god, it was a thong, how fucking humiliating putting one of those on in front of all these big guys. My dick didn't fit into the front pouch at all, no matter how much I pulled and stretched the elastic fabric, my huge dick was spilling out one side or the other or overflowing over the top. I was breathing hard and sweating and trying to keep it together when I realized that everyone else was breathing hard and sweating too, but for a different reason -- they all had their cocks out and were jacking off, watching me! I wanted to run and hide so bad, I couldn't stand being watched like this by a bunch of masturbating bodybuilders, but I couldn't, I was glued to the spot and kept trying to stuff my cock into the front of the posing suit. Finally, I had it almost all the way in, the thin red fabric was amazingly stretchy, but it hung way out in front of my body with the weight of my thick meat. The pouch was stretched away from my body at the sides and top so you could see inside, it hid almost nothing of my monster cock, and now it was even worse because I was starting to get hard. I wanted to die, sprouting wood in front of 30 jacking off muscle freaks, and it was like, 3 times longer and thicker. Then for reasons beyond my control I walked up in front of one of the big mirrors and started to pose for my audience. I had no idea how or why I was doing this but suddenly I knew the way to do it. The bodybuilders started jacking off faster and faster as I showed them my huge muscles. My huge hard-on stretched out in front of me, halfway out of my posers, dripping pre-cum, and I couldn't stop no matter how much I wanted to. My ass was completely exposed by the tiny thong and I did nothing to try to hide it. I hit pose after pose, my huge muscles and cock bursting with power and strength, and even though my mind was totally freaked and horrified, I was unstoppable. Then, as I looked each muscle man in the eye one by one, they shot their cum at me, the hot jets hitting my skin, where I scooped it up and rubbed it in like lotion. I woke up sweating and breathing hard and with my own cum hot and wet against my belly. I lifted up my shirt and was horrified to see that same set of abs...

[arpeejay]

I'm reposting Msclpkg's story with additional space between the text to enhance readability. -- rpj

Oops! My mistake!

Lack of readability was a stylistic choice.

Carry on, nothing to see here.

-- R

[arpeejay]

Great story! I have anxiety dreams all the time -- wish they were as good as this one!

You did a fine job with voice, tense, number, spelling, punctuation, etc. Still, it always helps to break up the text (hence my offering.) Contrary to what some people might tell you, a story is NOT the same as an essay. You don't have to cram everything into the same paragraph.

xoxo

Richard

[TKnTexas55]

Thanks Richard. I am sure there is a lot of great "text" that I skip passed because of the formatting (lack of). I do not care about the tenses or grammar or spelling (yes I notice) it just does not affect a good story for me.

[chocomus]

I wish i had those kind of dreams more often

[musclpkg]

Richard, I guess it may not have occurred to you that writing the story as a single stream-of-consciousness paragraph might have been a stylistic choice (albeit perhaps an unsuccessful one). I wanted to evoke the feeling that one sometimes has when telling a dream, of having to get it all out before it is forgotten in the light of day. Yes, it's easier to read when broken into paragraphs, but then I think it loses some of its urgency and wide-eyed astonishment at what the narrator's mind (and body) is capable of.

I appreciate your desire to encourage good writing among forum members. I'm sorry I didn't include more cues that would have tipped you off to the fact that the style was intentional.

Wood

[Dentistclark]

Originally Posted by musclpkg

I was in the pump room at a bodybuilding competition. All around me, mostly-naked muscle men pumping and flexing in front of mirrors. Strutting around flaunting their muscles, bulging in their little trunks, trying to intimidate each other. What was I doing there? I wasn't a bodybuilder. Bodybuilders look disgusting. I tried to leave but then I looked in the mirror and saw a huge, muscled-up version of myself. Holy shit! How did I get this way? I now saw that the clothes I was wearing were way too small. My t-shirt looked like it belonged to a child, stretched over my torso like it was. It barely came down to my navel and my shoulders were bulging out of the tiny sleeves. My jeans were like sausage casings around my huge thighs. I was some kind of disgusting muscle-freak. One of the bodybuilders came over to me and put his hand on my huge bicep, which for some reason I lifted up and flexed for him and it was the size of a football. "Lookin' good, dude," he said, smiling. My heart started pounding and I felt I had to get out of there. What had I suddenly become? But instead of leaving, I started to get undressed. It was hard because of how extremely tight my clothes were. When I finally got my shirt off I saw I had an audience. Several of the guys who were getting ready to compete had stopped what they were doing and were staring at me in the mirrors. My torso was huge and packed with muscles. I had big wide pecs like you see in those bodybuilding magazines. I had abs that looked like cobblestones. I was freaking out and starting to sweat but something kept me there and I started to take off my pants. I had to peel them down my legs they were so tight. Underneath I was naked and now I saw that my dick was also much huger than it had been before. It swung out in front of me like a pendulum. I reached into my bag for my posing trunks -- posing trunks?! -- and pulled out a tiny scrap of stretchy red material that looked like... I don't know what it looked like, I had never seen these before, but I knew I had to put them on. I was totally humiliated in front of all the big men watching me, the whole room was quiet now, and everyone was staring. I had never been so embarrassed in my life as I stepped through the little straps and pulled the suit up my thighs. There was no fucking way I was going to get my newly huge dick and my swinging balls into these things. Was there even any pouch in front? I saw that there was, but it was tiny, but also very stretchy. I tried to catch the head of my cock in it, had to stretch the waistband way out to do that, and then felt the strap in the rear slide up between my glutes -- oh my god, it was a thong, how fucking humiliating putting one of those on in front of all these big guys. My dick didn't fit into the front pouch at all, no matter how much I pulled and stretched the elastic fabric, my huge dick was spilling out one side or the other or overflowing over the top. I was breathing hard and sweating and trying to keep it together when I realized that everyone else was breathing hard and sweating too, but for a different reason -- they all had their cocks out and were jacking off, watching me! I wanted to run and hide so bad, I couldn't stand being watched like this by a bunch of masturbating bodybuilders, but I couldn't, I was glued to the spot and kept trying to stuff my cock into the front of the posing suit. Finally, I had it almost all the way in, the thin red fabric was amazingly stretchy, but it hung way out in front of my body with the weight of my thick meat. The pouch was stretched away from my body at the sides and top so you could see inside, it hid almost nothing of my monster cock, and now it was even worse because I was starting to get hard. I wanted to die, sprouting wood in front of 30 jacking off muscle freaks, and it was like, 3 times longer and thicker. Then for reasons beyond my control I walked up in front of one of the big mirrors and started to pose for my audience. I had no idea how or why I was doing this but suddenly I knew the way to do it. The bodybuilders started jacking off faster and faster as I showed them my huge muscles. My huge hard-on stretched out in front of me, halfway out of my posers, dripping pre-cum, and I couldn't stop no matter how much I wanted to. My ass was completely exposed by the tiny thong and I did nothing to try to hide it. I hit pose after pose, my huge muscles and cock bursting with power and strength, and even though my mind was totally freaked and horrified, I was unstoppable. Then, as I looked each muscle man in the eye one by one, they shot their cum at me, the hot jets hitting my skin, where I scooped it up and rubbed it in like lotion. I woke up sweating and breathing hard and with my own cum hot and wet against my belly. I lifted up my shirt and was horrified to see that same set of abs...

Man this is a damn hot story. Having been in a pump room, I wish this could have happened, I'd have joined in! I spent all my time admiring all the muscle around me and trying to keep under control! How about a story about a normal size, muscle obsessed guy who finds himself backstage at a competition?

[arpeejay]

Originally Posted by musclpkg

Richard, I guess it may not have occurred to you that writing the story as a single stream-of-consciousness paragraph might have been a stylistic choice (albeit perhaps an unsuccessful one). I wanted to evoke the feeling that one sometimes has when telling a dream, of having to get it all out before it is forgotten in the light of day. Yes, it's easier to read when broken into paragraphs, but then I think it loses some of its urgency and wide-eyed astonishment at what the narrator's mind (and body) is capable of.

I appreciate your desire to encourage good writing among forum members. I'm sorry I didn't include more cues that would have tipped you off to the fact that the style was intentional.

Wood

Ah, OK.

My pardon.

I don't read stories like that. I'll make a note of it.

xoxo

Richard

[nnnrg]

I got it, in fact, that was one of my first thoughts, "this seems too well-written to be jammed together, it must be a stream-of-consciousness thing." If you've ever forced your way through The Catcher In The Rye, you've seen that difference.

But framing it with a foreword might've helped clarify.

[musclpkg]

The point is taken, though. Especially in a web browser, readability is important. I'll also make note.

[arpeejay]

Originally Posted by musclpkg

The point is taken, though. Especially in a web browser, readability is important. I'll also make note.

Maybe double-spacing? Just a thought...

xoxo

Richard

[icywolfy]

Yea, I don't read anything that's one block of text, just to painful to read in a browser;
They don't even get a second look these days.

[nypup2train]

Originally Posted by arpeejay

Maybe double-spacing? Just a thought...

Oh dear god no! (I know this is a 3-week-old discussion, but the problems this would cause bear pointing out.) Spacing out lines is a nice thought, but completely unworkable.

The problem with "double-spacing" is that it can only be done (in forum markup) by inserting manual line breaks, which means hard-setting the length of each line. That'll play havoc with the browser's text-wrapping (defeating it or worse); the result is a nightmare for anyone who doesn't view the text in exactly the same font size with exactly the same browser width as the author.

The only way to make a monolithic block of
text more

unreadable is to make it fixed-width so that
many readers

end up looking at something like this.
(Especially bad

for anyone using a mobile browser.)

Breaks between paragraphs only, please! Let the viewer's browser do its job flowing the text appropriately.

[nnnrg]

It's possible to change the font or style independently, but with the CSS here, who knows what that would do to the article. It's one of the weaknesses of CSS, in my opinion.