A Lucid Account - Part 1

[tekuno]

This story will contain plenty of gay sex, and may also involve faintly macro elements later on. (I haven't decided.)

This is yet another take on the notion of lucid dreaming as a vehicle for muscle growth. I know, I know: It's been done. Well, that doesn't bother me. So here I go. I worked out the details, and couldn't resist starting. The next part will be posted whenever I have it ready -- I'm going to give priority to Caveman and In Corpore Sano for the moment, but I'll work on this as I have spare time, too.

A Lucid Account
Part 1

As my 42nd birthday approached, I settled further into the daily routines of my life. For the previous five years, I had been the head of accounting of a national-level engineering firm. I had become indispensable; in some ways, I WAS the accounting department. Any time I missed work, whether for vacation or from illness (both very rare), snags would appear everywhere in the finances of the business -- employees not getting paychecks, payments not getting deposited, suppliers not getting paid. In some ways, it was exasperating, but it was also valuable. I was one of the highest-paid employees, and my word, within reason, was law -- the CEO was absolutely terrified of losing me.

Of course, a large part of the problem was that most of my department had been hired before I was, and were textbook examples of nepotism. If any of them had had even the slightest ability to count, let alone operate a computer, they would have made me much less valuable, and probably would have been promoted into my position within days. As it happened, though, we had all reached an understanding after the first few months: they stayed out of my way, didn't touch anything, and accepted an absolute lack of raises in salary, and in exchange I wouldn't agitate to have them fired. The last of them to attempt any sort of coup ended up losing an account worth ten million a year and brought down the IRS for an audit. Even his connection to the CIO couldn't save him; the others took note and stayed quiet.

Although there was a lot of stress involved, I am a real Type A personality, and for the most part I was happy to devote my life to the smooth running of the business.

I'm also gay. I wasn't in the closet in the slightest, but it was simply irrelevant. In 42 years, nobody had ever shown any romantic interest in me, and I had never felt the need to pursue a sex life, beyond occasional masturbation. Instead of games in bed, I had my cozy office filled with critical paperwork; I preferred to sip coffee (from the mug my incompetent staff had given me as a half-joke -- the side said "Don't Get Me Started.") and work out our equipment depreciation allowances than to think about sex. Yeah, I'm weird.

For the most part, I didn't remember my dreams. The few dreams I could really remember having were the usual assortment of nightmares. It took me weeks to realize what was happening.

-----

I stepped out on stage. The crowd screamed its enthusiasm. I strutted to the center, and the spotlight followed me. Then I turned and did a "most muscular", turning from side to side as I flexed. I was the guest poser at this event, and a perfect example of what the contestants wanted to be, someday. Every curve of my massive 42-year-old body screamed POWER; my muscles pushed against my skin as though trying to burst through, covered with a network of veins.

After giving the crowd their money's worth, I stalked off the stage. At both ends of the stage, the contestants had gathered to watch me. More than half of them were hard, and I let the two most attractive ones follow me into the bathroom facilities, where they worshipped my fantastic body and sucked me off. Yet another pleasurable weekend engagement.

Amazing as my body was, it was even more amazing that it was not only all natural but built entirely in my spare time. From 9 to 5 every weekday, I was an accountant at Roault Electric and Mechanical. I was surprisingly good at the work, and didn't slack off, but I never showed up before 8:59 AM, and when the clock hit 5:00 PM, I was out the door and on my way to the gym. On the way, I would have a snack and a bunch of supplements, then I would tear up the gym for three hours, come home and eat protein in vast quantities, and head to bed. My muscles had responded to this treatment by expanding until I was one of the very largest men in the world -- the previous year, I had been the only serious Mr. Olypmia contestant over 5 feet 11 inches tall, and if you know anything about competitive bodybuilding, you know just how huge I had to be to compete at that level at that height.

The life was harsh, I barely had any time to myself on weekdays, and I was constantly aching from the intensity of my workouts, but the rewards were incredible. Not only did I feel fantastic (and being a fucking giant had been a lifelong dream, so there was satisfaction there), but an endless stream of attractive strangers wanted to provide me with sexual gratification, and I was happy to allow them, although I made a point of never accepting money from an individual. (Then again, there was more than one private "guest posing" engagement which was essentially an extended worship session. I made sure not to let anyone take photos or video, and collected my money with a smile.)

-----

When I awoke with a hard-on for the fifth morning in a row, I knew something unusual was going on. I had dreamed about being a bodybuilder, and that rang a faint bell. Maybe I had been dreaming that every night? It might stop by itself, of course, but you don't become a high-ranking accountant by leaving things to chance. I decided to get a dream journal and keep a record.

At lunch, I found myself thinking about what I could remember of the dream. I smiled and shook my head -- as though I had time for fitness! Not that I was exactly out-of-shape; I was trim, and went jogging three or four times each week on an indoor track at the local fitness center. But the notion of building up my muscles had never appealed to me. Still, as I thought about the fragments I could remember, I got hard under the cafeteria table for the first time ever.

Part 2

[HugestFuckGod]

Wow, I think it is very impresive that you are now juggeling 3 stories. I cant wait for the updates!

[tekuno]

Originally Posted by HugestFuckGod

Wow, I think it is very impresive that you are now juggeling 3 stories. I cant wait for the updates!

Actually, this story is so easy to write that I finished part 2 before going to bed. Nice sequence which I think people will like towards the end of it. But I'm going to hold it until a night when I'm not posting anything from the other two stories, to act as a kind of buffer.

Right now, I'm working on the next part of In Corpore Sano. (Well, not literally. Right at this specific instant, I'm going to go and have a late lunch. But, you know, today.) Tomorrow, the next part of Caveman.

[abbraxis]

Great Start!

My one and only story DREAMWALKER used this "lucid dream" concept as a way to have Muscle Growth without bending reality too far. I also figured having the character dream himself huge but wake up puny provided for some interesting opportunities for self-reflection (like how this made the character feel, yadda, yadda). Eventually, after some personal exploration, his abilities were going to crossover into reality, at which point I was going to stop writing and leave the story in someone else's hands.

I started part 2 but never got around to finishing it. You almost (ALMOST) make me want to find it and see where I left off.

I'm looking forward to seeing what YOU do with this concept, though.

[tekuno]

Originally Posted by abbraxis

Great Start!

Thanks! It's kind of fun to write little snippets of "life of a giant muscle stud" which don't need justification or a backstory, just events.

I'm looking forward to seeing what YOU do with this concept, though.

My only reply: heh heh heh...