Shooter Girl Kimber: Pumping Iron

"Come on, man, you almost got it!" The spotter stood over the bench, his hands ready to catch the bar if his friend lost his grip.

The man laying on the bench grunted, "Gah... I... can't!"

"One more set and you're at fifty; come on, push it!"

Around the gym, people everywhere were sweating and doing various workouts. Upstairs, the whir of treadmills and ellipticals could be heard dully, and some nondescript alternative music was serenading the smell of B.O. masked by disinfectant.

The bencher grit his teeth and lowered his arms for the fiftieth time. The bar felt like a tow truck in his hands, and his wrists and forearms were shaking from the strain, but somehow his willpower was giving him the ability to keep it upright. With another grunt, he shoved the bar upward and felt the blessed relief of the weight being lifted back onto the stand, and he threw his arms to his sides and huffed loudly.

"Good shit, man," the lifter's spotter grinned and leaned against the bar, "It's all about persistence; the pain is just a distraction."

The lifter sat up slowly and laughed, "Bullshit, I don't see you trying to bench two-fifty."

"And I don't see you running a marathon, that's got plenty of pain written all over it," the spotter laughed.

The lifter grabbed his water bottle and took a long swig, then opened his eyes and sighed, "Yeah well..." he stopped talking suddenly as his eyes settled on a woman who was several yards away.

The woman was doing pull ups, and he completely forgot what he was going to say as his eyes followed her movements up and down. She was pretty by anyone's standards, with deeply tanned skin. Her dirty blonde hair was put up in a tight ponytail, and she was wearing a tight gray tank top and a sports bra.

The lifter had seen many women like her at various gyms, and he seldom noticed more than just their figure or how nice their ass looked in yoga pants, but this woman was different. There was a look of sheer concentration on her face that he seldom saw on even professional athletes, and her form was flawless. Her pace was insane and she was mowing through her sets as quickly as he could curl twenty five pounds.

His eyes were practically glued to her, and at some point, he moved them down to her body. Her muscle definition was obvious, and she was toned without being bulky, which was the kind of look that drove him crazy. His gaze moved down to her hips, which she had enough of, and he was about to stare at her legs when his eyes almost popped out of his head.

"I see you've spotted Kimber," his friend stepped up beside him and patted his shoulder.

The lifter's eyes were still bugging out of his head. The woman, who was apparently named Kimber, had the legs to match her body, but all he could focus on was the unmistakable bulge of what appeared to be a very generous package outlined against her thigh through the yoga pants she wore. The longer he stared, the more obvious it became, and his voice almost cracked as he asked, "Who is she...he?"

The spotter chuckled, "I think they usually pronoun as she. She's a futanari."

The lifter tore his eyes away and narrowed them towards his friend, "They're real?!"

"Of course they're real; don't you internet? There's not many of them in the world, I guess, but they're coming out of the woodwork now. Incidentally, Kimber is a real athlete," the spotter tilted his water bottle towards the woman who was still performing pull ups furiously, "No homo, but I would do things to that woman. She's way out of my league, though, and I think she eats, breathes and fucks her workout routine. She's in here pretty much everyday. Sometimes, if she gets really into it, she goes hard as a rock; that's fun to watch," the spotter laughed. "Everyone knows who and what she is around here... honestly, you get used to it. I've heard she's nice, but she pretty much ignores anyone here who tries to talk to her. She'll give you her autograph though, if you ask for it."

"Autograph? Who the hell is she supposed to be?"

The spotter laughed once more, "You're still in the process of questioning your own sexuality, I don't think you're ready to hear the answer just yet."

Kimber Crighton walked into the women's locker room, sweat dripping from her face. her tank was soaked in sweat, and a large, dark ring could be seen circling all the way down to her stomach.

The locker room was full of the usual suspects: a few soccer moms, some swimmers, and of course, the odd basketball player. Some of the women were naked, most were dressed, but Kimber hardly noticed any of them as she made her way to the showers and began to strip down.

She pulled her sweat soaked tank over her head before tossing it on a bench, then she curled her fingers beneath her sports bra and did the same with it. Then, with all the casualness of someone who had done the same thing a thousand times in a row, Kimber peeled down her yoga pants and stepped out of them.

Her stomach was completely flat, and her body fat content was extremely low, but there was nothing masculine looking about her as she stepped into the shower.

She sighed heavily as the cold water hit her skin, and she made no move to make it warmer as she lifted her face to allow the water to slide down her body. Her crotch always felt particularly hot after a hard workout, and she relished the sudden change in temperature as she spread her legs.

Her balls tightened as they cooled, and she smiled with relief and satisfaction as she began to soap herself. She never allowed her showers to last longer than five minutes, and she rinsed herself moments later and stepped out.

Dripping wet, she padded over to her locker and grabbed her towel. She'd been frequenting the gym for nearly six months, but her fellow gym goers were still stealing glances at her when she dressed and undressed. Kimber didn't mind in the least, and she secretly enjoyed the attention. The only time it ever became annoying was when people (both men and women) tried to hit on her, but the longer she stayed the less it happened, because people knew she wasn't there to socialize.

She pat dried her face before working her way down to her body, then she flipped the towel between her legs and dried her junk. Even flaccid, her male parts were larger than the average man's, and she could almost feel at least one other woman openly staring at her as she whisked the towel down to her pussy.

Afterwards, she stepped into a pair of briefs and pulled on a somewhat looser bra.

"Um... excuse me... Kimber?"

The fit futa turned when she heard a feminine voice behind her, "Hm?"

A thin, early twenties tennis type girl was smiling nervously up at her. The girl was fully clothed, and Kimber could tell that she'd just finished a rousing game of racquetball by the ruddy color of her face, "Hi there, what can I do for you?" She smiled.

The girl blushed, "I heard... I mean, well," she laughed, "Sorry, I'm so nervous! I'm a huge fan; your season last year... wow!" The girl giggled. "I'm sure you're busy, but... can I have your autograph?"

Kimber smirked, "Sure. What do you want me to sign?"

"Oh, um... this?" The girl hurriedly flipped open a notebook, "I have a pen too, oh..." she fumbled with the binding on the journal and awkwardly yanked the writing utensil from it.

Kimber took the pen and chuckled, "Thanks for watching; it's always nice to meet female fans, especially ones that are so cute." She brought the pen to the lined paper and signed her name with a flourish.

The girl's blush intensified and she looked as if she were going to pass out, "M,most of your fans are guys?"

Kimber handed the notebook and the pen back to the girl, "Yup. Most of them don't have the balls to ask for my autograph though; I think they're intimidated by me, but I don't bite."

The girl was practically shaking with excitement as she clutched the notebook to her chest, "I'm rooting for you this year; I hope you make first."

"I'm gonna try my best!" Kimber reached into her locker and grabbed a shirt, "I can get you some tickets if you want to see me live."

"Ah..." the girl's eyes widened, "Really?"

Kimber pulled on the shirt and took the notebook back from the girl, "Type in this... promo code... on the website," she said as she jotted something down. "Hope to see you next week," she said as she handed the notebook back for a second time and winked.

"Ohmygosh... t,thank you!" The girl gushed.

Kimber laughed lowly and shook her head as the girl stumbled off in disbelief.

"You're late."

"Hello to you too, Shelby. Sorry not sorry; I'm always late," Kimber sat across from a woman, a smug smile on her face.

The woman that had been there before her snorted. Shelby was a homely looking thirty something who was wearing a business blazer. It was clear by both her shoes and the briefcase sitting beside her that she was some sort of businesswoman, and she sipped her black coffee before she replied, "I'm going to have to start telling you to get places earlier so you'll maybe show up on time. Would it kill you to at least call or text me? The waiter is about to give up on me ordering and I'm on my third cup of coffee; I'm gonna be peeing like a racehorse after this."

"There was a cute girl asking for my autograph," Kimber picked up a menu and glanced over it. It was the usual restaurant where she always met her agent. The food was decent, the waiters were friendly, and Kimber enjoyed the quiet atmosphere, "Oh, navy bean is back on the menu, nice!"

The professionally dressed woman cleared her throat, "Aren't you at least a little curious as to what I've got for you?"

"Oh, yes... sorry," The athletic woman glanced up for a moment before burying her face back into the menu, "I'm just really hungry."

Shelby sighed and chuckled, "Fine, food first, then we'll talk."

After the two had made it most of the way through lunch, Shelby cleared the area in front of her and popped her briefcase open, "You're growing in popularity, it's getting to the point where I need to start turning people down flat before I even talk to you."

"That's good, right?" Kimber said as she picked at what was left of her salad. "I trust you, Shelby; if you don't think it's a good gig, then it's not. Anyway, go ahead and hit me."

"Well, we've got quite a few options to choose from. First off, just to get this out of the way, how do you feel about doing commercials?"

Kimber looked up from her salad and a piece of lettuce fell from her mouth, "Seriously? Commercials for what?"

"Does it really matter? The look on your face tells me everything I need to know," Kimber's agent laughed.

"I just can't see myself advertising anything other than the shooter girls. Well, that, and chicvibe, but I kinda have to advertise them because they're my sponsor."

"I just wanted to hear it from you before I turned them down. I don't think commercials are in your contract, anyway, and I don't want you to do any work that you feel uncomfortable with. Anyway, I might as well skip to the thing I know you're going to say yes to."

Kimber gave her agent a wry smile, "Oh? I've never seen you this confident before. Whatever it is, it must be pretty sweet."

"I'd say so," Shelby leaned forward. "As I'm sure you know, pornyexpress is one of the shooter girl's biggest sponsors this year, and they're trying to break into new areas with it. They contacted me yesterday and they had an offer for you that would actually be sanctioned by the shooter girls."

Kimber's eyes widened, "Oh, really? It's not porn, is it? Cause honestly..."

"Hang on," the agent lifted her palm and smiled, "Before you get freaked out, you should probably listen to what they want."

"Alright, fair," Kimber set her fork down and pushed aside her plate, "Lay it on me."

"There's a director named Sasha Sikes who specializes in niche fetish porn. Most of it is softcore, and nearly all of it is fairly clean. Hell, I think I saw a video about a woman waxing her bikini line; I'm not sure who thinks that's hot, but somebody is paying money for it. Anyway, she wants to do a series of solo shoots featuring some of the top shooter girls. Your name came up, of course, and she wants you to be the first in the series. Basically, you'd be doing the same thing you do during a match, but you'll be alone. Sasha was very adamant about the fact that you wouldn't be having sex with anyone, nor would you be solicited for sex at any point."

Kimber pursed her lips, "Hm. That does sound pretty interesting. What do you think?"

Shelby looked surprised by the question, "Well, ultimately I think it's a good chance for your career. The more attention the shooter girls gets, the more revenue comes in, which means more events, bigger arenas and more money in your pocket."

Kimber laughed and crossed her arms, "That's nice, but at a certain point, it stops being about the money."

Shelby nearly rolled her eyes, "Ah yes, ever the sportswoman. How could I forget?"

"I've been training hard this year; I'm gonna get first even if it kills me," Kimber said with a determined smile as she dug around in her purse. "Speaking of which, it's time for my regimen."

She pulled out a smaller pouch and unzipped it, then went about the task of setting several tiny bottles and pills on the table cloth.

"God, not this again," Kimber's agent shook her head, "You're gonna kill yourself with all those supplements." Her eyes widened as Kimber laid out more and more pills, "What the hell, that's twice as many as last time."

"Relax," Kimber laughed, "These are all completely natural. I'm not gonna O.D. on ginseng."

"If it was just ginseng, that would be one thing, but what you've got there..." she pointed, "That's a pharmacy, natural or otherwise."

"Oh please," Kimber tossed one of the pills into her mouth and swallowed, "This is bromelain: that's from pineapple. I have vitamin D, B complex, calcium, magnesium, zinc; you gotta have the zinc, only don't take it on an empty stomach because..."

"I know why!" Shelby shook her head, "And what's with the bottles? I swear, if I find out that you're doping..."

Kimber cackled, "Calm down, Shelby! Look, taurine, ginseng, milk thistle," she said as she pointed at each bottle. I promise you, I'm not taking anything that's considered a drug."

"Okay," The agent looked incredulous. "In any case, here's Sasha's card," she said as she passed it between the wall of supplements. "She wanted to speak with you herself. My advice is to take the job, but if you get any weird vibes from her you can always back out."

Kimber took the card and looked it over. It was a simple yet elegant print boldy laid over a light pink and gray. It simply read: 'Sasha Sikes, premier adult entertainment for the connoisseur'. Beneath, there was a phone number and email address, "Okay, I'll give her a call later tonight. Thanks for the lead, Shelby, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You're welcome, but don't get too sentimental on me just yet. She could be a nutcase; she makes videos about women just talking about having orgasms."

Kimber chuckled, "I'll take my chances."

-One week later-

Kimber stepped out onto the curb and thanked her driver. It was always interesting stepping into a stranger's car, especially when the drivers recognized her, but the man who had dropped her off didn't seem to care about anything but to his next trip.

The L.A. sun washed over the business park with it's usual steely aura, and Kimber winced as she looked down at her phone to confirm the address.

There was a large, three story building in front of her, and she walked toward it as she lowered her head. It wasn't even technically summer yet, but it was plenty hot enough, and she was glad that she'd dressed lightly.

She made it inside the building and sighed with relief when she felt the air conditioned interior. A large plaque stood directly in front of her, and she found the name of Sasha's studio on it, "Studio Sikes," she murmured as she memorised the both the floor and suit numbers.

The foyer of the building was mostly empty, but as she passed towards the elevators, a few businessman glanced over get and smiled. She smiled back and wondered what they'd think if they knew where she was going.

Kimber found the suite and opened the door. she was expecting some sort of reception area, but instead, she was met with the sight of a short hallway and a kitchenette build into the side of the wall. A girl was standing in front of a coffee machine, apparently fiddling with something in a mug, and Kimber cleared her throat.

"Hello, I'm here to see..."

"Oh, you're Kimber!" The girl said before she even turned, "Thank you so much for coming. I actually asked to work today just so I could meet you in person!"

Kimber grinned, "Wow, that's flattering, but you have me at a disadvantage."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," the girl, a young looking brunette, smiled sheepishly, "I'm Kayla. I work with Sasha part time; I'm trying to get into the film industry, but it's tough to go it alone. I absolutely, positively cannot tell you how excited I am to be working with you today!"

"Ah...cool," Kimber blinked, "But, um... where is Sasha?"

"In the studio, behind the next door," Kayla answered quickly. "Again, sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, yerba..."

"Water would be good."

"Great," Kayla beamed as she turned to the small refrigerator beside her. She opened it and grabbed a bottle of designer water. She handed it to Kimber almost worshipfully before turning on her heel, "Alrighty then, let's go!"

Kimber furrowed her brow and shook her head with a small smile, "Interesting kid..." she said under her breath as she moved toward the next door.

The second door led into an impressively sized loft that was lined with windows on almost the entire backside. It would have been nicer if the view wasn't so industrial looking, but there was a good amount of natural light flooding in. Equipment like backdrops, cameras and riggings could be seen all over the place, and Kimber was surprised to see an array of gym equipment set off to one side of the studio.

"Welcome!" A woman shouted from across the room and waved energetically to Kimber as she stepped over.

Kimber waved back, "Hi there."

Sasha Sikes didn't look anything like what Kimber had pictured. She looked to be in her late thirties, and she was tall and somewhat heavy set. She was well dressed and it was clear she had a taste for fashion, and all in all she looked like a personable yet eccentric woman, "I'm so glad you could make it! Did you get anything..." she saw the bottle of water in Kimber's hand and frowned, "Kayla! Did you not offer her anything but water?!"

Kayla was about to speak when Kimber flipped the bottle in her hand, "It's fine! I asked for it," she added with a nervous smile. "I only drink water before I'm about to, um, preform."

"Ah, of course, fantastic!" Sasha smiled. "Follow me over here, if you would, I'm so excited to show you the set up."

Kimber followed the woman to the opposite side of the room and her eyes widened slightly.

"What do you think?" Sasha asked her as she crossed her arms.

The entire back wall of the studio had been completely transformed into a gym. There was a treadmill and an elliptical set up, as well as a full rack of dumbells and a pull up bar. There was also an assortment of blocks, exercise balls and kettlebells, and finally, a barbell bench press.

"This is amazing," Kimber replied genuinely as she admired the equipment. "Did you bring all of this here just for me?"

Sasha nodded, "Most of it is rented, but I might keep some of it for a few other shoots. I've been wanting to feature you for a long time, and now that I've cut through all the tape with the shooter girls studio, we can finally make some beautiful work together."