It was just begging to get let out

He knows himself by intuition, or more accurately, every part of him is conscious of itself and in sync with every other part. Every muscle coordinates perfectly, playing, stimulating each other like an instrument of lust, milking the last drop of pleasure from this decentralised pile of meat.

Head 0%
Nerves and muscles synchronised 100%
Libido 500%

Your newly assembled muscle pup wasn’t designed with parts for a collar, so the cage he is swinging eagerly is his bell. He needs your touch, but he just is, fully feeling in the eternal present, lacking the human flaw of impatience.

A muscle god, having shed the burden of humanity, has all of the time in the world to revel in his own existence, and to show his glory to you, the worshipper.