Fit

Confuscius, he say "Find a job you love, and you'll never work a day in your life."

Being a fitness instructor is the perfect job for a sadist. Where else, outside of a whorehouse, does a man spend his days ordering women to do painful and demeaning tasks?

Most of my colleagues (the very few straight ones) go for the stunning blonde twenty somethings. Me, I much prefer the older woman. They need me MUCH more than I need them and I can treat them accordingly. Plus they tend to be better able to afford my ludicrous fees.

Press-ups are my favorites - it's genuinely a good exercise for the woman, but I get a thrill out of watching the woman drop and push their pampered faces close to the ground at my command. I insist on perfect form and I insist the nose actually touches the ground. If not, they are likely to get a gentle push from my boot to the back of their heads. After the fifth time, even the stupidest woman catches on. Better yet is where I've taken them to the park for their session. Face down into the mud - the temptation is to push on too hard. And all in public, where the friends of the pampered lady might see her sweating and panting in the dirt.

When they become more proficient, I get them to pause and hold the position, nose just touching the floor. If they fail to hold until I give the word, they get a shouted and very direct lecture in their faces on how lazy and weak-willed they are.

Oh yes, I'm allowed to be very rude to my clients. Certain women seek me out because of it. Some desperately need to get in shape and they like my uncompromising style, but one or two quite clearly enjoy the abuse way, way too much.

Take Angie, for example. She's something big in the management of a top magazine. She looks to be in her late forties or maybe she's well-preserved and in her early fifties. Expensively dressed, even in the gym. Big beautiful backside and a breathtaking big rack of boobs.

After our second session she waited around and watched me take another woman through her paces. She watched with considerable interest and seemed to enjoy what she saw. She approached me as I was on my way into the changing rooms.

"You're very good."

"Thank you."

"I mean - you really know what you're doing. Can I ask something?"

"Sure."

"How do you know when to stop?"

"Stop?"

"How do you know how far to go - how much exercise the woman can take - how much shouting she'll put up with."

I looked over at her. She was blushing and when I made eye contact, she lowered her eyes. I knew then for sure that she was a Submissive..

I smiled.

"I've been doing this for a quite a few years - first in the army and now freelance. I know when someone is really at the edge and when they are just being lazy and weak. As for the shouting - it's for their own good and if they don't see that then they can get a more polite instructor. Was it too much for you?"

"No, no, not at all.. In fact ..."

She tailed off and blushed. I imagine a wealthy career woman like her didn't blush often.

"In fact ...?"

"Yes, in fact .. er, I think you went a bit easy on me."

I flashed her a big smile.

"Well, that's easily fixed. Drop and give me fifty right now."

Without delay she did drop and started with the push-ups. In lesson one she managed only twenty, in lesson two only twenty five. Fifty was way out of her reach, especially after a hard session and by the time she got to twenty, her form was ragged.

"Stop!" I yelled. "Hold it there"

She stopped in mid press-up, her arms shaking.

"Do you see what you're doing wrong?"

"Yes - I want to do it properly but my arms aren't strong enough."

"Don't you dare give me excuses. Ever. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now tell me what this is about. Why do you need me to get harsh with you? You some kinda pervert?"

"No. no, no." she lied "It's just I've got all kind of competition at work - young skinny girls with legs up to here and I need to fight back. Lose some weight, get fit. Can I stop holding this position now?"

I sighed.

"Never, ever again ask me that. Everything I do is for your own good and if you start questioning that, you might as well find another instructor. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Good. So you want some toughening up. I can help you with that. But we're going to need to double the number of sessions. OK?"

"Yes, sure. I can afford it." her arms were shaking a lot now and she was on the verge of failing. I spied an opportunity.

"And for the intensive sessions I have in mind, the rate is double what you pay for these too-easy sessions you dislike. OK?"

"Yes, yes. OK."

"Now you can stop holding"

She slumped to the floor. I was impressed that she had held on - she obviously had a good threshold of pain and a strong desire to please. Yummy.

"So, go do laps round the track for twenty minutes and then get a shower. A cold one. From now on, all showers are cold for you, lady."

She nodded and obediently jogged off. I watched her significant lycra-clad rear go and licked my lips at the thought of the money, pain and pleasure to come.