Black Cat Ch. 06

"Have a seat, Mr. Banderole," Keena said as she sat down into a black high back leather chair behind her huge mahogany desk. Unlike the rest of the gym, which had a generic industrial primary color theme, Keena's office was warm and inviting. Instead of overhead harsh cold fluorescent lighting and a cold gray concrete floor, her space was illuminated by floor lamps radiating warm light and a sensible latte colored carpet. Bookcases lined the two walls of a large square room. Any space not occupied by a book was used for trophies and framed photos. The few photos I saw featured Keena accepting her degrees, in a posing bikini holding a trophy above her head, wearing light colored blouse and khaki slacks on one knee hugging a scantily clad ill looking child. The third wall was occupied by a large toffee colored leather sofa and coffee table. Neatly organized binders sat on a credenza along the fourth wall, behind her desk. That wall also had a door to the back hallway near the VIP locker room, my locker room. I pulled my eyes off the walls and saw two straight backed, red cushioned wooden chairs. I sat in the chair on the right side of the desk and dropped my duffel bag beside me.

She put her arms in front of her on the desk, leaned forward and said, "Mr. Banderole, I'm told that you had a good day today."

I came within inches of saying, 'Well, if you mean fucking my cat, surpassing all gym records, destroying two fourty-five pound plates, dominating a big bodybuilder and a twink, and getting the personal information of over fifty potential fags and sluts to bend to my will, it wasn't a good day. It was goddamn fucking fantastic day. Oh, and I also starred in a sex tape on your property without your permission and one of your employees might be walking pretty funny for the next week or so.'

Instead I shrugged and answered, "It was ok."

She lifted a single perfect eyebrow on her dark chocolate forehead. "'Ok'? You shattered the personal bests on most, if not all, stations in the gym. You are powerful, but your form is undisciplined and sloppy; you're going to hurt yourself. Didn't Janice instruct you?"

"I, ah, didn't exactly give her the chance."

She sat back in her chair, drawing her hands off the table. Her expression was unreadable, but the emotion she radiated was concern and disappointment. After a few seconds she must have made a decision because she stood, went to one of the bookcases, pulled three books, walked to me and handed them to me. "These are basic works on human physiology, kinesiology and exercise science. I expect you to at least read three chapters in each before you return to the gym."

"When do you want the books back?" I hear shouting in the lobby and feel rage and fear.

"They're a gift. Never lend books." she said as she rounded her desk on the way to her chair.

"Thank you, Dr. Panthera."

A gentle wave of surprise and appreciation from Keena flowed through me. She was about to say something when the door to the lobby burst open. I turned around in my seat and saw a 'roided out heavyweight bodybuilder rush into the office and bellow, "Kee, what the hell do you think you're doing!" It was Zapp Brannigan, I recognized him from the vanity posters in the bodybuilding section of the gym. He was just under six feet tall, wearing a white polo two sizes too small for him with the gym logo on the breast and a pair of khaki pants. His massive upper body was almost as big as me. He definitely wasn't dedicated to leg days and I noticed that he was not as manly as the posters made him out to be, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

Keena finished sitting down in her chair. However, she tensed up, sending out a wave of trepidation. Janice stood in the doorway trying to make herself as small as possible. She meekly said, "I'm sorry Ms. Panthera, Zapp wouldn't wait for your meeting to finish."

"It's alright, Janice. Close the door and go back to the front desk." After Janice quietly closed the door Keena said, "What are you talking about, Terry?"

"Terry?" I interjected.

"That's his real name, Terrance Limppernoodle." said with a straight face.

I brought a hand to my mouth to prevent myself from laughing out loud. A snicker got through though. Keena actually flashed me a beautifully mischievous smile as if we shared a secret joke. I felt the warmness of...friendship? That warmness was replaced with utter stab of terror when Terry charged on my left towards Keena's desk, slammed his fists on the desk and roared, "I TOLD YOU NEVER TO CALL ME THAT AGAIN!"

Keena went pale and jumped in her seat, moving the chair back a foot. Her hands shook. Her terror was not like the emotions I've felt from the people I'd dominated. This was bone-chilling, not-sure-you-are-going-to-live-past-the-next-minute terror. The feeling was so strong and terrible it made me nauseous.

He spun to face me and bellowed, "AND WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU, BOY!" It's then I realized who the envy and rage I felt in the cafe came from. I could see where this was going, so I thought I'd have a little fun by shrinking from his insult, putting the mask of fear on my face and slouching in the chair. I slowly lowered the books I held onto the duffle bag at my side and put both hands on my lap.

Before I could utter a word a pulse of anger came from Keena. She said, "This is Bruce. He's your replacement. You're fired."

Terry and I swiveled our heads to Keena and uttered the same word at the same time, but for very different reasons. "WHAT?!"

"Zapp," she motioned to the chair on my left, then she calmly and cooly continued. "Please, sit down." Terry instead stood straight up. I could see his thick back muscles bunch and twitch under his shirt.

Keena took a deep breath and said, "Zapp, your job was to promote the gym and recruit new members." As she spoke she sounded practiced, like she'd written down exactly what she wanted to say. She confidently continued, "You, however, either cancelled or didn't bother to show up at the East Towne Mall two months ago, West Towne Mall last month or the Hilldale Shopping Center this month. For the past six months you've missed your very easy quota of ten new members a month. Bruce brought in fifteen new members today alone. You failed your drug tests three months in a row," she lifted several papers from her desk, "The sports medicine lab at the university found illegal substances in your sample. You know the gym employee policy; no illegal drugs. We've discussed your behavior before yet you..."

Before I could do anything Terry roared, grabbed Keena's shirt, and pulled her over her desk. "YOU BITCH!" He violently backhanded her cheek. Terry roared, "THIS GYM IS NOTHING WITHOUT ME!" Keena shook off the blow. I almost wretched from the blast of terror, hate and anger from her.

After the slap everything started to slow down. As I rose from the chair I saw Keena deliver a jab to Terry's nose drawing blood and knocking him back a foot. When I was halfway to standing up Terry picked up the heavy desk lamp and hit Keena across the side of her head. She started to fall back as I finished standing up. At the same time Terry spun to his left and used that momentum to strike me in the head with the lamp.

I felt like I was hit by a Mack Truck. The momentum spun me to the right. I almost blacked out before I accessed the emotional power I stored throughout the day. I heard ripping and I could feel myself explode out of the shirt Steve gave me as I drew the power into my muscles. When I was facing Terry again I threw a left hook to his jaw. His head snapped back as I delivered a right uppercut to his gut. I followed through with the punch, lifting him several feet into the air.

Terry landed on his hands and feet and looked up at me with a bloody snarl. He brought his right foot under him, launched himself up with his hands and propelled himself forward with his right leg. His arms encircled me, pinning my arms to the side. I dropped my right leg back to stop the backwards momentum as he started to squeeze. I flexed my back, lats and pecs to counteract his attempt to subdue me. Finding that I was resisting him, he reared back his head and headbutted my forehead. I was glad that I strengthened my skeleton when I saw Terry's head bounce off and his eyes cross.

I easily broke Terry's hold and returned a bear hug with way more power than the one he just tried to enforce on me. As he wasted air cursing at me I lifted him off his feet and gradually increased the pressure I exerted on him until he was gasping for breath. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth and I heard his ribs crack. To end this I delivered a skull cracking headbutt of my own. His head snapped back and he went limp. I released him from the bear hug. As he started to fall to the floor I delivered an explosive jab to his sternum. The blow flung him backwards across the room. He bounced off a bookcase and landed face first on the floor.

I turned towards the desk, but I didn't see Keena. "Keena!" I exclaimed. I ran around the desk and found her on the floor, unconscious. I pushed aside her chair and knelt beside her. She had an ugly welt above her left temple. "Keena! Are you ok?" She groaned in response. I gently picked her up and took her to the sofa. I laid her down and covered her with the throw blanket that was draped over the sofa. She awoke with a start and began to struggle, flinging her arms. "Keena...it's Bruce...It's ok," I told her as calmly as I could. "It's ok. Terry's unconscious." I firmly took her wrists and put her hands on her stomach. "Tell me what's going on."

"Oh, thank Goddess," she said as she brought a hand to her head and winced. She then told me her history with Terry.

She gave Terry a trainer job a year and a half ago. He told her that he wanted to become the region's championship bodybuilder so she trained him after hours. Under her tutelage he made amazing gains, but the gains were never enough. Six months later he was promoted to member outreach and promotion. That's when he took on the stage name of a Futurama character, for some fucked up reason. One night they had an argument and he assaulted her.

And he raped her.

She had been living with physical and mental abuse since then; her days filled with fear and dread. Today, she finally found a way out when I walked in and crushed every personal best in the gym. That's the real reason why she called me into her office. She needed a White Knight.

I tried to stay calm as she told me this, but I felt the anger surge in me, my breath quicken and my heart rate rise. I didn't feel like a White Knight at all. I felt like an Angel, or Devil, of Righteous Vengeance.

"Stay here and rest," I said and started to stand. She took my hand as I stood.

"What are you going to do, Bruce?"

I was silent as I asked myself that very question. All I could come up with was, "Punish him. Where can I have privacy?"

She nodded and pointed with her free hand to her office's back door and said, "First door on the right. It's his private gym," then she squeezed my hand. "Bruce."

"Yes?"

She said, "Hurt him," and released my hand. I stomped over to where Terry laid and kicked him onto his back. I bent down, spread the fingers of my right hand wide and palmed his face. I stood up and dragged the massive, bulked up bodybuilder out of Keena's office.

The door Keena directed me to opened into a large windowless personal gym. I dragged Terry into the room, closed the door and ripped off the doorknob. There would be no escaping this room today. I flicked Terry like a bowling ball to the middle of the room. He slid on his back a good twenty feet on the rubberized floor. With him still unconscious I took my time looking around my new personal gym. Mirrors adorned each wall. There was another doorway on the wall to the right of the main door. Maybe a passage to the adjoining room? I tried opening the door, but it was stuck. On the opposite wall I saw the bathroom and shower. The lighting in the center of the room was provided by fluorescent fixtures. However, near the mirrors the lighting changed to harsh spotlights. As I approached a mirrored wall I saw why. I threw a double bi pose. Under the spotlights every vein and deep striation in my arms and delts stood out in stark relief. I'd have to instruct Doug on the finer points of lighting physique that makes the gods envious. "Aw, shit," I muttered as I realized that the Superman shirt Steve gave me was practically ruined. The sleeves were gone, probably lying somewhere in Keena's office. My cobra-hood-like lats had torn the sides of the shirt from the armpits to nearly my waist and side-of-beef pecs split the shirt front, from my neck to the middle of my bouldered abs, splitting the silkscreened emblem in half. I was showing so much cleavage that I could be arrested in the southern states. I took off the shirt and draped it over a nearby bench. Before I continued my inspection I took a look at my profile as I crunched my obliques and abs. I started getting hard gazing at the rippled muscles and narrow waist.

While the public gym floor was populated with dated, yet still useful, equipment, my new personal gym was packed with the latest equipment. All of the machines had a "Property of Madtown Fitness" badge riveted to them. I assume Keena did this to make sure all the high end equipment didn't walk out of the building. I thought of how that must have pissed Terry off. He probably took that anger out on Keena.

The plates lying haphazardly on the floor ranged from 35 to 100 pounds. Four dusty 120 plates were on the plate rack. Most of the dumbbells were scattered around one of the benches. They went from 30 to 250 pounds. I shook my head when I noticed a pair of 300 pounders on the dumbbell rack, also dusty. I went over to where Terry laid and ripped off his clothes. He won't be needing them anymore anyway, after I took care of him. I paused to examine my prey.

He was big, hairy and stripped down to his underwear. His arms and shoulders were his best developed muscle groups. I assumed he was in his bulking cycle, which looked like it lasted for too long, as his abs were covered by a fat gut. Seems like he was visiting the neighboring Dunkin' Doughnuts and consuming quite a lot of dirty calories. All doubt that he skipped leg day was erased; his legs were average for a male of his size and age who goes to the gym. I looked at mine and then back to his. One of my legs was the size and weight of his two combined.

I went to the bathroom and wetted the shirt. I used that as a rag to wipe down all the plates and dumbbells. I loaded up the custom made barbell at the bench press station with a thousand pounds. I whistled when I realized the bar didn't even bend from the weight. I put the rest of the plates in their proper place. When that was finished I made a circuit of all the machines, wiping them down and setting them to their heaviest weight.

With all my preparations complete, I went over to Terry to wake him up. The hot stream of urine that I'd been saving up for all day splashed on Terry's face bringing him back to consciousness. Having drained my bladder I tucked my cock back into my pants as Terry jumped onto his feet and cursed up a storm.

"What the FUCK do you think you're doing, boy!" he said as he chest bumped me and shook his head, flinging my urine on my pecs. "I'm gonna tear you apar..."

I was beginning to like taking lesser beings by the neck with my weaker hand and lifting them off their feet. Not only does that give my shoulder a fantastic pump, it also leaves my right side free to do whatever I want: flex and awesome bicep, yawn showing that lifting hundreds of pounds in the air was easy, order a pina colada from the bar. For Terry I had something special in mind. I repeatedly power drove my fist into his pudgy abs until his entire abdomen was a massive black bruise and jiggled like your aunt's disgusting lime jello with shredded carrots desert. When I finished I wondered why I wasn't hearing any more profanity. I looked up and noticed his face was an amazing shade of crimson and his eyes were bugging out. I released his neck and let him fall.

While Terry rolled on the floor, puking, cradling his beaten abs and gasping for breath I walked to the bench press station and said, "You've got that wrong, little man." I lifted and repeatedly curled the loaded barbell as I walked back to him. "I'm gonna tear you a new asshole. Then literally tear YOU apart. But first," I slowly lowered the barbell in front of him. "Lift that."

"Fuck you!"

"Aww. Is the little man too weak to do a deadlift now? You saw me lift that bar. It can't be that much weight can it?" He started eyeing the plates and trying to do the math in his head. I derailed his train of thought. "Come on, little man. LIFT IT WEAKLING!"

He grit his teeth and stood with a defiant expression. He yelled, "Fuck fuck FUCK!" as he moved into the deadlift starting position, his abs obviously not supporting his core. He clenched his fists around the bar and, while grunting and cursing, tried to lift a thousand pounds. Of course the bar didn't move.

"Oh, hey, looks like you need a little bit of a spot." I reached down and one arm lifted the barbell with an overhand grip to his waist. He's huffed and sweated profusely from his inadequate exertion. "Are you sure this is heavy? Seems light to me. Let's take it a little higher." I lift the barbell to his chest level. "Alright, little man! You got this."

"Go screw yourself." he grunted

I sneered and retorted, "You shouldn't have said that," and forced the bar against Terry's chest, pushing him backwards. As the weight of a small car crashed to the ground he's pinned under the bar. The clang of the plates impacting the rubber covered concrete floor were almost as loud as Terry's screams of terror. He wailed while lying under the barbell. "You are pathetic. Weak," I snarled as I looked down at the insect. "You know what happens to the weak when an Alpha is around, don't you?"

"Oh, GOD! Please...DON'T!"

I stepped over the bar and slowly advanced on the insect. "Is that what Keena said as you forced yourself on her?" I ripped off my shorts revealing my rapidly inflating cock. A cock that was the thickest, longest, hardest it's been all day. It would have destroyed worm's or Steve's intestines for sure. The veins visibly throbbed, the shaft bounced with each heartbeat and a long, thick string of pre flowed from the huge tip.

The bug stared with wide eyes and a rapidly paling completion at the instrument of his destruction. His mouth trembled and he yelled, "Oh...Christ NO! I'M NOT A FAG!"

"Do you think I EVEN GIVE A FUCK?!" I bellowed as I sat on the barbell adding more weight on his hairy chest, seized his greasy head and brought his mouth towards my cock. He clamped his mouth closed so I cock-whiped his face until it was bright red and covered with pre. "Open up, boy. Come on! GRRRR! Take it like a man!" When he shook his head and refused to open his mouth, I took his jaws and pried them open a crack. That's all the space I needed to plunge my steel pole into his mouth. I thrust the head between his lips, the corners of his mouth instantly tore half way to his ears. Another thrust and I filled his mouth. In the third advance into his oral cavity I bashed into the top of his throat. With the fourth I took his throat down to his stomach. His head became a blur as I used it as a fleshlight until his teeth started to shatter. His jaw eventually dislocated as my cock's thickness overwhelmed him. Before his last molar disintegrated he was licking the bottom of my shaft even though his eyes threw daggers. "Not a fag, eh? Feels like you're starting to enjoy this, boy! GRRRRRYEAH!"

I pulled out of his mouth and stood. My cock hit my chest with a wet smack as I took a step backwards, reached down to the barbell, picked it and tossed it across the room. Terry saw a sliver of a chance to escape and took it by making a mad desperate dash towards the main door. I let him get a head start just big enough to see that the doorknob was ripped off. He changed direction to run for the other door when I grabbed the back of his neck and threw him across the room into the dumbbell rack. He cried in pain and slid to the floor. "Please!" he cried as I charged towards him. "Don't hurt me anymore! I won't ever hurt anyone anymore!"