Spending time at the library had to be your least favorite activity. A whole day spent reading meant nothing if all that information was just going to stay inside your head.
You were just about to pack up and leave when you noticed it; small, black, sitting alone at the top of the bookshelf in the “fantasy” section. To be honest, you didn’t know why you decided to pick it up. Maybe something just felt right, maybe it was calling to you…
You opened it up to find the pages were blank. Strange, you thought, must be some sort of journal. But just as you were about to close it, splotches of ink began to form on the pages. They formed not words, but images. Specifically, images of men working out.
It was an instruction guide. The answer to all your concerns had just landed in your lap. Here was the key to finally getting out of the library and into the gym,
You went out and bought yourself a membership. Cocky, I know, but you were confident the book really had something to say. However the minute you walked into that gym, a bunch of hot buff jock bros staring down a scrawny book worm with a little black notebook, you knew this was going to be a bad idea.
Timidly, you walked over to the benches and picked up a dumbbell. You opened the book up to a page that showed a muscular man lifting the weight up behind his back. It looked a little ridiculous, but it seemed like a good place to start. You reached for the ten pound weight, and started to replicate the movement as best you could.
I look ridiculous, you thought to yourself, and the looks from the guys around you echoed this sentiment. It had only been two lifts and your arm felt like it was going to fall off. It was time to quit this silly escapade and head back to your books.
You moved to put the weight down. But you were stuck. Stuck, that is, doing the lifting. You couldn’t move any muscle in your body outside those trapped in the continuous motion of lifting the weight up behind your back. Terror began to set in, along with a fresh bout of pain, and you looked desperately into the mirror.
Then things started to get strange. First, the weight started to feel lighter. The motion began to flow more fluidly and after a moment or two, you were paying more attention to your own image than the weight in your hand.
With every pump, you watched as your muscles defined themselves. Almost magically, the shape of your biceps, your pecs, your delts, began to form. And once everything stopped shaping itself, you began to grow.
You moaned. Your body rumbled with heat and power as you watched your new muscles start to inflate on your once fragile frame. Not only that, but hair began to sprout from practically everywhere on your body. Your button up t-shirt pulled up into a white bro tank, unveiling a thick and sweaty expanse of muscle.
It wasn’t long before the reflection in the mirror seemed almost entirely foreign. Not only that, but the more you pumped, the more you started to develop a longing for your own body, and for every other body in the gym. Knowledge about books and libraries seemed to vanish like fog as your thoughts began to focus on your incredibly fit body, your thick manly scent, and the sweat soaking your tank.
Fuck bro, you thought as you ran your free hand along your chest, chest is feeling fucking good. Gotta get swole, bro. Gotta get that pump.
You finished your rep and put the weight down, stretching as you winked at the other guys around the gym. Their faces had gone from offended to dumbfounded, watching you go from scrawny nerd to full on gym rat in a matter of minutes. But you didn’t notice. This was just another day at the gym for you, another day of pumping muscle and getting laid.
As you reached down for the weight, you noticed the little black book in front of you. You flipped through it, only to find a bunch of words appear on the previously blank pages. Lame, you thought to yourself, tossing it aside for some other poor soul to find. For now, all that matters is the pump. You picked up the ten pound weight with your other hand, and started to lift it up and down. Up and down. Pump, sweat, pull, repeat.
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