Subject Caption #14

Most people look at a dude like this and they almost instantly turn tail and run. The size of those glorious arms alone and that broad bulging chest are enough to make sure that no one would ever mess with a dude like Charlie.
Professional Bodybuilder, Champion Boxer, Strong labourer; the ideal rolemodel for the Big Dumb Jock Boy archetype. But most people who got to know him found out pretty quickly that he was such a gentle giant. All of that beef protecting a soft heart and the most supportive personality you could find. The best bro anyone could ask for. The kind of guy who ends up all lovey-dovey and on his ass in the street after a few pints, and then you’ve gotta find a construction crane to lift the big lug home somehow.

But what fewer people knew is what went on behind the soft doe-eyes of the Gentle giant. That every waking moment was accompanied by dark desires and suggestions whispering in his ears, like Abyssal monsters just waiting to drag him down into depths of trance that some people could only imagine. He was a Hypnotist’s dream come true. So easy you could literally just *SNAP* and he’d be out like a Big dumb lightbulb.

But being so easy means he always had to be extra discerning of who he worked with, who he talked to, even who he followed online for fear that they would just end up using him, abusing him and throwing him away like a piece of meat. People saw muscles like his and seemingly forgot that there was a mind behind them, albeit a very weak and very kind one.

He just wanted a bro who he could trust. Someone who could sate those hungering abyssal tendrils and lusts that bubbled just beneath the smiling surface.

Just when he thought all hope was lost, that someone manifested. Almost like his own internal abyss had brought that perfect bro into existence.

He was smart, kind, super good at getting that gentle giant to follow along with his words. What more could he ask for?

Months Later…

Charlie didn’t need anyone else anymore. Just that one bro had come out of nowhere and filled his wildest fantasies, gotten him to accept parts of himself he didn’t even know he had. And most importantly, he had sated those grasping, grabbing abyssal tendrils with nothing more than his words and his voice.
But instead of getting them to go away, That perfect bro just made them so much stronger. Almost like for every day at the gym Charlie spent, those monsters spent 10. He knew he’d never outpace them…but at this point he didn’t want to. He knew he was safe in the abyss his bro had created for him.

He was even easier to drop by now, so much easier. So many of his bro’s words and suggestions just echoing and reverberating around inside his brain; behind those eyes that now, were more often blank and dull instead of sweet and doe-like.

Sometimes they were normal things that his mind would get attached to. The sound of his Bro’s Voice. The things he said, some of which were way too smart for Charlie to understand, yet he still latched onto like crazy. Sometimes it was intentional, trigger phrases repeated over and over again. “Relax, Sink, You’re alright, Good boy”. He still enjoyed those even though he was used to that from basically every tist who thought they could bring down a big boy like him.

No. Instead his favorite effects were the unintended consequences of trance. He wasn’t sure if his bro’s words were just too strong, or if his brain was just that weak, but something made him into putty whenever his bro was around.

This time around it was something he couldn’t even avoid. It started as an induction. Sweet and simple. A test for something in the future his bro had plans for. All he had to do was focus on the rain outside his bedroom.
The pitter patter of an evening storm lulling him into peace and security.
Falling slowly and gently into trance like a rain drop falls to the earth.
Imagining The feeling of every cool droplet drip, drip, dripping in his mind and on his skin.
The way the condensation on a window could so smoothly slide down and pool at the base.
How the moisture in the air just seemed to suck the stress and tension from everything for a while.
And how nice the sound of raindrops hitting the wet concrete, or the glass or even his own skin could be….

It took him another 20 minutes to realize that the feeling of moist fabric clinging to his bulging chest was more than just an illusion of trance. Whether of his own volition or by the prompting of his bro, he’d stepped out into the cool and damp rain and just enjoyed it. Stood in trance in the middle of a summer shower. His hair and clothes soaked through. The chill the only thing shaking him out of his Rainfall reverie.
He bounded inside again, shocked at what happened but…not quite displeased.

He shot his bro a few messages back and forth while he dried himself off telling him how it all went. The excitement in his chest like an eager schoolboy. After all it was just supposed to be a simple induction and it resulted in all this! When he got another message from his bro.

That storm’s still going on outside, Big Bro. Doesn’t it sound so nice and relaxing? Doesn’t it make you just wanna be like rain too? Falling. Dropping. Cool and sweet? Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?
And he did…he did like it…he liked it so much.
Cool and wet.
He was still damp and wet, he could still feel the moisture on his skin, trickling down his pecs…could still feel the trance in his mind.
As his doe-eyes went dull.

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