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If you have good intentions and it backfires, you’re the bad guy. If you put yourself first, you’re the selfish person. No matter what your motivation for taking of yourself or others, it seems that a lot of the times, you’re the anti-hero in your story.

Even Taylor Swift fans realize that you need to take care of yourself first if you ever are going to help anybody else because if you start helping others before you have yourself in check, it’s a recipe for disaster.

Always keep in mind that caring for yourself and your priorities isn’t selfish but exactly the opposite. Addressing unfinished business and healing wounds is how we move on healthily in life so be sure to tie up those old ghosts before you move on to better things.

#antihero #selfcare #motivation #motivationalspeaker #personaltrainer #mastertrainer #peace #oldscores #lifecoach #menswork #guidance #podcastersofinstagram #actor #writer #author

Emerging from the shadows into the radiant light. Life’s journey has led me through darkness, but resilience and self-discovery have illuminated my path. Here’s to embracing the light within and letting it shine bright.

#Transformation #Growth #fitness #stoic #Pittsburghgay #outofthedarkness #intothelight #personaltrainer #motivation #growthmindset #superstar #actor #malemodel #lgbtq #pittsburgh #journey

Personal Trainer & Prep Coach Brendon Theron.

“Meaty pumps on the menu tonight!💪”

Tom’s Relic

I used to be 45, a bit overweight, balding and divorced. The names Tom by the way.

As bad as my life may have seemed, I learned to live with it. I would go to work and earn just enough money to pay my bills and buy food. It became normal but I wished that I could have done better sometimes. Maybe if I’d had a better job or even just tried a little harder at the things I do in general, I could have still been able to my son and daughter.

However my Aunt, who is now 73, told me that there is an ancient relic that had been passed down for generations. It was supposed to be passed down from first born to first born. She said she would’ve given it to her first born, my cousin Michael, however he died in an accident before he was given the relic from my Aunt.

Since Michael passed away, she said that she never had any intention of giving the relic to anybody else and that she was thinking of having it hidden away forever as it wasn’t meant for anyone but Michael. But recently she thought that I was much in need of it and, since I was my mother’s first child, I was as close as she was going to get to passing down the relic correctly.

The relic can be used only once by an individual and can be used to swap bodies with another however it won’t work on somebody else who has also used the relic before. My Aunt said that she personally had never used it but quite a few of others before her had. For example, my Aunt’s late father wasn’t born in the body he had since he’d stolen it from somebody else. She also said that I had to pass the relic onto the first born that I’d have in my new body not my current first born, my daughter.

All these years I’d lived accepting the fact that I was going to grow old being under average, fat and lonely but now I felt like I could change all that.

A few days after receiving the relic, I searched online for a trainer but not so he could train me. I saw a lot of good looking men that I wouldn’t mind becoming but then one really caught my eye. His name was Graham. Immediately I used the rest of my saved money to hire this guy to be my personal trainer two weeks.

Obviously he had already been booked for a few other people so I’d have to wait three weeks before he’d be able to come and see me. In those weeks waiting for Graham to show up, unlike before, I couldn’t stand going to work and getting paid as little as I was. I had no longer accepted my fate and I was anxious to get my new body. Luckily I managed to put up with Job until eventually, he arrived.

Graham came up and knocked on my door. I opened it in a flash while filled with excitement. He was wearing standard workout gear. A black t-shirt with two grey stripes on the shoulders, blue and white shorts, black socks and black trainers. It did great to show off his muscular body.

We went and sat in my kitchen as he began to discuss with me what kind of fitness plans we could use. I had the relic in my pocket, as it was quite small, and my Aunt said I could use it by holding it in my hand and wishing either verbally or mentally to swap bodies with the person who I was thinking off as that person was in my line of vision.

I reached into my pocket and grabbed the relic. I held it tightly in my hand as I stared at Graham while keeping my gaze fixated on him. In my head, I wished to swap bodies with him. For a second, nothing happened but then a yellow beam of light burst out of my mouth and entered Graham’s.

I blacked out for a moment and the next thing I knew, I was looking at my own unconscious body laid back in a chair. I looked at my hands and they seemed different. Next I looked past my hands to see that my arms were massive. It was incredible.

After that, I stood up and looked down at my torso. Instead of seeing a large gut, I saw a flat stomach. Instead of seeing saggy pecs, I saw ones bulging with muscle.

Wasting no time, I went straight into the living room where I found the full length mirror that I’d usually stand infront of when I was getting ready for work. Immediately I began getting a boner as I saw my new, extreamly sexy, body. I had a full head of black hair and a stubble covering my young masculine face. I pulled up my t-shirt to find that not only did have a flat stomach but I also had a sweet six pack. I couldn’t help but pull off my t-shirt completly to reveal my huge pecs with a decent amount of hair on them. Next thing I knew I was bouncing up and down them with pride, turning myself on even more. After that I turned around to see that I had a nice plump ass. A lot of girls like that nowadays. When I turned back around, it was almost impossible to ignore the throbbing erection that was growing in my shorts. Before having a peek however, I just took a second to admire the large calves and thighs I now possessed. My legs too also had a decent amount of hair coating them.

Now there was only one more thing left to check out. I stretched open the waistband on my shorts and boxers to see my large, meaty, erect cock. I dropped my shorts and boxers to my ankles before I started jacking off my stolen cock while staring at my new reflection in the mirror, moaning loudly as I did. Guess Graham was a loud one in bed and I happened to inherit some of his traits. It was incredible. Not just because I was younger and had a stronger sex drive but because I hadn’t been sexually stimulated in my old body for years. I kept a firm grip on my cock as I started to feel the cum rising. I don’t know how I lasted so long in my old body without this. One last pleasure filled moan escaped my mouth as my whole body tensed while my cum splashed onto the mirror and as it did, I gained tons of memories. I knew all there was to know about Graham which was perfect. Now I could imitate him with no problem at all.

I had to catch my breath before reaching over to the table nearest to me to grab a tissue box. I pulled out one tissue and used it to wipe the cum off the tip of my cock. This allowed me to pull up my boxers and shorts without getting them “wet”. I continued to use the tissues to wipe the rest of my cum off the mirror.

After that, I grabbed my black t-shirt and put it back on before I headed back into the kitchen. The first thing I saw was my old, pitiful body still unconscious on the chair. Just before I blacked out and entered Graham’s body, I dropped the relic. It must have rolled under the table so I got on my hands and knees and sure enough, there it was. I reached out and grabbed it before getting back up on my feet again. Now all I had to do was hang on to it until I had a first born to give it to.

I shoved the ring in my pocket before deciding that it was about time to leave. Although I thought that I should probably leave a note for Graham when he wakes up so I grabbed a pen and paper and started writing.

***

To my dear friend Graham

I just thought I give you a little explanation. Basically, I stole your body and left you with mine. Sorry but after learning that it was possible to swap, I couldn’t put up with my terrible life anymore. Hopefully you can find a way to get your new life back in gear and I’ll be back tomorrow to help you get a fitness plan ready. You look like you need it with that gut. Anyway, thanks for this terrific body. I’m looking forward to testing out even more.

P.s. There is no possible way to swap back so you better get used to being called Tom from now on.

Yours truly the new Graham

***

I left the note on the table infront of Graham before I headed out the door. Once outside I began walking to the nearest gym. As I did, I thought about my new life. I was a 27 year old fitness trainer with an incredible body and yet I wasn’t in a relationship. Well, that’ll soon have to change.

Now I’m at the gym, working out and testing the strength of my new body.

IFBB Pro Bodybuilder, Trainer & Coach Dorian Haywood.

“I hope you didn’t subject yourself to mediocrity today.”

A Little Diddy I Just Spun Together

(I wrote this for someone who messaged me complimenting my stories; it's the least I can do for the feedback. I'm hoping he liked it, and I'm hoping he doesn't mind me sharing it here.) So, lemme just sling something together real quick... Let's say you hire a trainer to help you get back in shape. You're blown away when you meet him: 6'4", muscles you can see through the sweatshirt he's wearing, blue eyes that make your stomach tingle and a perfect smile he's not shy about hiding. He shakes your hand and you're blown away by how HUGE his big mitt is, how much smaller yours is in his. There's such a sense of power in his grip, of control. You try to keep your wits about you though, trying to keep this professional. 

First session he shows up in a revealing tank top, and you can tell almost right away what kind of guy he is. He's the guy who's still tan in the dead of winter. He's the kind of guy who could eat a box of donuts and get two more abs. He was the first kid in school to get muscles, the guy in high school girls (and guys) were writing about in their diaries but he had no idea. He's never noticed how easily he gets his way, just by putting a firm hand on somebody's shoulder, flashing that smile, and using a calm, stern voice.

Almost from the first set you realize his training is very "hands on." He's always really close to you while you're lifting. You curl, and he stands behind you, guiding your arms. While you squat, he grips your torso, drops down with you. Every position he's in seems to hammer home JUST how much bigger he is than you, feeling his solid weight behind you, feeling like he's surrounding you on all sides. When you both stand up, he just keeps on standing, casting you in shadow. It's all you can do to keep yourself together. Still, you surprise even yourself with how obedient you are to his instructions. You adhere strictly to his diet, not wanting to disappoint him (and pushing for the spiritual cookie that is his warm grin when he comments how much progress you've made). You take the weird powders and pills he gives you, and you really start to see results... veins in your arms standing out, a breadth to your chest and shoulders you've never had before. 

You start standing a little taller now--except when he's around. Next to him you feel like a candle near a bonfire. You show up to the gym a couple months into training, surprised when he tells you that instead of heavy leg day, you're getting a bonus day of rest. "Rest is when we grow," he assures you. "And with all the progress you've made, you've earned a day off." You're relieved (you hate heavy leg day!) but confused, but when he guides you by the shoulder toward the steam room and tells you he'll be joining you, you're too overcome with jitters to question it. 

It's just the two of you in the steam room, sitting across from each other, and you try not to stare, but the way he's sitting, legs spread, the towel just threatening to open wide and show you everything he's got under there, you can't help but keep him in your peripheral. Then he clears his throat, sits forward, upper body tense for a second, and he grins at you so huge the blood rushes from your head. 

"Just gonna put something in the steam really quick," he says, pulling hidden in his towel and holding it over the steam jet. A thick milky white cloud blasts out and swallows you up. Suddenly you can't see him, or the floor, or anything; it's like your drowning in white. You gasp for air, huffing in the hot humidity, and everything fades out... ...when you wake again, you're lying in a shallow pool of warm, salty water. You feel fine except for massive disorientation and some dizziness. And you're naked! There's a haze in the air, preventing you from getting your bearings. You pull yourself to your feet and look around. 

The room is huge--the ceilings look impossibly high, miles away. And as you're staring up, something familiar comes into view. It's your trainer! He's the size of a building, and though his face looks about a mile or so away, you can still make it out clearly. You're too overcome with the sight to do anything as he reaches down and snatches you up, his big hands tightening gently but firmly around you. 

You're too scared to struggle, and his fingers hold you so snugly you're not sure you could move much if you tried. Your stomach drops out as he lifts you up, a dizzying flight through the air as he starts walking. To you, you're traveling at a high speed, impossibly high off the ground. You can't help but pee a little... and you pray he doesn't feel it dribbling through his fist. Maybe you're so tiny that he doesn't even notice. 

Outside the steam room you feel cool air and you swallow big gulps of it, your pulse pounding in your temples. You're immediately disoriented with the speed you're moving, and by the glimpses of the world outside his fist that you get through his fingers. But a minute or so later you hear a familiar click and a squeak, like the sound of the lockers in the men's room opening but at a different volume and register. 

You hear the sounds of massive items rustling and moving around you, then you're plunked unceremoniously on a hard metal floor. You spin around, taking in the size of the room you're standing in. It takes a second for you to realize that the massive chamber behind you is actually the gym's dinky little lockers. In front of you, your trainer fills up every inch of your view with his massive muscular body. 

He leans in close, his warm, sweet breath blasting at you in big bursts, and then his massive tongue snakes from his mouth, starts at your feet and drags slowly upward. He slurps loudly afterward. "Mmmmm," he purrs, and you shiver at the idea that he was just tasting you. He's only wearing compression shorts, and he reaches forward to snatch you again. You wish for freedom, want just to talk to him, to ask him what's going on, but then his hand tilts. You look down and see him tugging open the waistband of his compression shorts with one finger, and you see the impossibly huge cock and thick heavy balls tucked in there. You'd been dying to see them since you met him, and you're bowled over by their magnitude now. 

Suddenly the pressure from the hand holding you is gone, and your arms grab wildly at the air as you fall straight downward, landing on the soft mass in his shorts with a light thud. He moans (the solid warmth around you vibrates) and lets his waistband snap back. The compression shorts hold you firmly against his cock. You can feel his pulse through veins the size of drainpipes. You panic for a moment, confined and overwhelmed by the heat, but then the rhythm of his bloodflow and of his weight shifting as he walks lulls you, almost hypnotically. 

Outside his clothes you hear him going through the gym, greeting people. You wonder if you could scream to get their attention, if anyone could help you now, or even if you wanted them to. That's when you realize: after your sessions with him, your trainer always went through his own workout! And now you're along for the ride. You nestle in, still bewildered but thrilled at the same time, as you hear him grunting, his gigantic muscles flexing. His scent is your air and you marinate in his sweat.

Ryan Yule

I stepped into the dimly lit room, the air was thick with anticipation. My eyes fell upon Ryan, a striking figure who commanded attention without effort. He stood by the wall, the light catching his sculpted physique perfectly. With his model-like looks and blonde hair cropped tightly to his head, he was the embodiment of strength and charisma. He wore nothing but a pair of gray, tight pants, showcasing his chiseled abs and broad shoulders, every muscle defined and taut.

"Alex, right?" Ryan said, a confident smirk gracing his lips. The way he spoke held a mix of friendliness and challenge. "I’ve been looking forward to this. I’ve heard a lot about your skills."

"I hope you won’t be disappointed," I replied, gauging his demeanor. It was clear that Ryan was not just a pretty face; his time as a soldier was evident in the way he held himself—alert, disciplined, ready for action.

With a quick nod, he moved to the center of the room, his body fluid as he assumed a fighting stance. "Let’s see what you’ve got for me, then."

I stepped forward, the atmosphere charged with tension. Ryan's muscular frame seemed to radiate energy, and I knew I was in for a serious challenge. As I lunged towards him, he met me halfway, a flurry of movement marking the beginning of our encounter.

Ryan moved with precision, throwing a powerful punch aimed at my midsection. I dodged just in time, feeling the rush of air as his fist sailed past me. He quickly pivoted, employing his soldier training to throw a swift kick toward my side. I blocked it but felt the strength behind it. He wasn’t holding back.

We circled each other, both of us sizing up the other's strengths and weaknesses. I feigned a left hook, trying to throw him off balance, but Ryan was quick on the uptake. He sidestepped and countered by landing a fist to my shoulder that sent a jolt through my arm.

"Nice try!" he laughed, the sound warm and inviting, yet it ignited my competitive spirit even more. "But you’re going to need to do better than that."

Fueled by adrenaline, I retaliated. I ducked low and threw a spinning kick toward his legs, trying to sweep him off his feet. Ryan jumped back just in time, his movements fluid and agile. He shifted his weight, landing back on solid ground with a smirk.

"Impressive reflexes," he said. "But I can take a hit. You’ll need to go for the knockout."

With that, Ryan surged at me like a freight train. I braced for impact, but his form was a blur of muscle and speed, the tight gray pants emphasizing his powerful legs. He landed a solid punch to my midsection, winding me momentarily. I staggered back, but I quickly regained control, slipping into a defensive stance.

"Not bad!" I replied, determination flaring in my chest. "Maybe it’s time I turned up the heat."

I charged at Ryan again, throwing a series of quick jabs aimed at his face. He parried them expertly, his soldier instincts kicking in once more. We exchanged blows, the sound of fists striking skin echoing in the room, and I could feel the competitive energy radiating between us.

Ryan landed another punch to my side, but I spun away, using the momentum to deliver a swift kick to his midsection. He grunted as the force landed, but instead of backing off, he rushed me. Before I knew it, he had me in a clinch, attempting to wrestle me to the ground.

I could feel the heat of his body against mine, the strength in his grip tightening as he tried to assert dominance. But I wasn’t done yet. I used my agility to duck under his arm and wriggled free, throwing him off-balance for just a moment.

"You’re tougher than you look," he admitted, his breath slightly ragged but eyes shining with enthusiasm. "This is more fun than I anticipated!"

"Glad to hear it," I said, wiping sweat from my brow. "But I'm just getting started."

With a newfound resolve, I lunged forward again and caught him off-guard with a swift kick aimed at his knee. It connected, sending him stumbling backward. Sensing my opportunity, I closed the gap and tackled him. Both of us tumbled onto the floor, grappling for control.

Ryan’s muscles tensed beneath me, strong and resilient. Our bodies intertwined as I attempted to overpower him, but he maneuvered with surprising agility, using his legs to push off the ground to regain his footing. In mere moments, he had flipped us, now pinning me down with his weight.

“Not bad,” he breathed, his blue eyes sparkling with energy as he held me in position. “But I’ve been trained for close combat.”

He shifted his weight, attempting to gain a better position, but I wasn’t about to give in that easily. Using my core strength, I bucked him off and rolled, scrambling to my feet just as he regained his balance. We faced each other again, the air thick with tension and unspoken respect.

Ryan wiped sweat from his brow, a grin breaking across his face. "You know what? This is actually fun! It’s been a while since I’ve had a match like this."

I couldn't help but smile back, the camaraderie of combatists flowering between us. "You push me to my limits, Ryan."

"And you’ve got a lot of fight in you!" he replied, stepping back into a fighting stance, the playfulness in his eyes clear. "Let’s finish this!"

With that, we launched ourselves at each other again, a blur of fists and kicks, adrenaline coursing through our veins. While we were fierce competitors, there was an undeniable connection between us—a mutual appreciation for the strength and skill we both possessed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of relentless fighting, we found ourselves locked in a clinch once more, both of us breathing heavily. Our foreheads pressed together as we stared into each other’s eyes, the intensity of the moment palpable.

“I think we might need to call it a draw,” Ryan said, a mix of admiration and exhaustion evident in his voice. “We’re both equally matched, it seems.”

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, nodding in agreement. “I can live with that.”

As we stepped back to catch our breath, I couldn’t help but appreciate not just his physical prowess but also the man standing before me. The glistening sweat on his defined body and his confident aura drew me in, making it impossible to ignore the chemistry that had developed through our fierce competition.

As we both took a moment to catch our breath, the atmosphere was thick with mutual respect and the remnants of adrenaline. Ryan leaned back slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “So, what now? A truce? Or are you up for another round?”

I chuckled, appreciating his tenacity. “I think a truce sounds good for now.”

But in that moment of camaraderie, Ryan’s expression shifted slightly, the playful glint turning into something sharper. Before I could react, he feigned stepping back but then lunged forward again, catching me off-guard with a powerful right hook that connected with my jaw hard enough to send me staggering back.

Caught off guard, I hadn’t seen the attack coming. “You sneaky—” I started, but Ryan was already on the offensive, charging at me with renewed vigor. He was relentless now, his movements a blur of muscle and speed as he threw a barrage of punches.

“Didn’t you know? In a fight, sometimes a truce is just a momentary distraction!” he taunted, his confidence radiating with every blow. I quickly regained my footing, my instincts kicking in as I focused on avoiding his attacks.

With a deep breath, I focused, grounding myself. Ryan's stamina and combat skills were impressive, but I wasn’t about to let his surprise attack define this encounter. As he threw another punch, I sidestepped and countered with a well-timed jab to his ribs. He grunted as the hit connected, but he quickly turned the tables again, aiming high with a vicious roundhouse kick.

I ducked just in time, feeling the rush of air as his foot whipped past my head. I seized the opportunity, redirecting my momentum to deliver a powerful side kick to his midsection. The force of the blow caught him off balance, and before he could recover, I moved in swiftly.

Ryan fell back, and I seized the moment. With a quick maneuver, I tackled him to the ground, forcing him flat on his back. I pinned his arms down beside his head with my knees, a triumphant grin breaking across my face.

“Looks like I win this round after all!” I said, panting but exhilarated.

Ryan’s eyes narrowed playfully as he realized he was trapped beneath me. Despite our earlier revelry, there was an undeniable intensity in his gaze. That moment of triumph quickly shifted as I felt a surge of adrenaline course through me. As we locked eyes, I became acutely aware of his muscular physique—sculpted arms straining against the ground, broad shoulders, and the graceful strength of his legs, all encased in those tight gray pants.

“Okay, okay! You’ve got me!” he admitted, laughter mingling with his breathless exhaustion. But as I released my grip and leaned back slightly, Ryan seized the opportunity, leveraging his powerful legs to push me off and flip us back around.

I was momentarily taken aback, struggling to regain control, but I quickly countered, and with swift reflexes, I rolled him over again. Just as I did, I threw a final punch—a clean connection that landed on his jaw, sending him into a daze.

Ryan blinked. His expression turned from playful to bewildered as he slumped forward, muscles going slack as he was knocked out cold beneath me. I quickly rose, as Ryan slowly regained conscious, I pulled him to his feet, punched him with great force in his abs three times and finished him off by slamming his head into the bed frame. Using a shoulder throw he slammed onto the bed. Knocked out cold.

“That was a bit much, wasn’t it?” I murmured to myself, shaking my head as I looked down at the muscular form sprawled out before me. There was no denying it—Ryan had an incredible physique. His sculpted abs gleamed with a light sheen of sweat, and his arms looked powerful even in unconsciousness.

But it wasn’t just his upper body that caught my attention. The way his tight gray pants hugged his strong legs highlighted the muscles there too, the well-defined quads and calves shaping the very essence of athleticism.

Feeling an odd combination of admiration and respect, I knelt down beside him, letting my fingers graze over his shoulder. The sheer strength he exhibited even in defeat was something to behold. I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger, taking in the full package of his muscular form and the story it carried—of dedication, training, and resilience.

As I pondered the moment, I found myself smiling wistfully. “You’re something else, Ryan.”

With a sigh, I decided to give him some time to recover. While I could easily leave the room, there was an undeniable urge to hang back and admire the figure before me. I found myself captivated by his feet, so well-sized for a man of his stature. The soft curves and lines contrasted greatly with the rugged strength of his upper body.

Reaching out cautiously, I traced the outline of one of his feet with my fingers. They were surprisingly well-cared-for, accentuating not just his physical prowess but also a detail-oriented side to the man whose strength I’d just experienced firsthand.

Realizing I might be lingering too long, I stood and took a step back, shaking my head at the surreal turn the day had taken. I hadn’t expected the competition to turn into such an intrigue—a captivating dance of respect and skill with a man who was undeniably a force in both combat and aesthetics.

As Ryan stirred slightly, I decided it was time to gracefully exit the scene. I turned and headed toward the door, casting one last glance at the sleeping warrior. “You’ll be alright,” I murmured, knowing he would awaken with the playful spirit I had come to appreciate.

With that final thought, I slipped out of the room, a smile on my face and a sense of adventure in my heart, knowing this wouldn’t be the last I’d see of Ryan.

Philip trains Ryan