The Gym

This is a story attended for adults, not for those that adults feed, watch, and change. If you are over 18, and still your mom makes your bed, you can read this, but you are immature. ANYONE UNDER 18, DO NOT READ THIS. Go outside and play.

Copyright © 2004 by Maldoror11@aol.com . Blanket permission is granted to reproduce this work in any medium for any nonprofit purpose. For other purpose, email me. In fact, Email me and say Hi either way!

Maldoror11

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Due to an overzealous boss and an overeager work ethic, I worked 60 hours a week during the Summer to finish a long and tedious project that will result in accolades for my boss - for making sure it got done - and a hefty bonus for me-for getting it done.

As such, I was beginning to see a bulge pushing my collared shirts out further than they were accustomed to in the wrap-around mirror that encircled the elevator’s walls. The bulge seemed to grow daily. Long hours behind a computer screen, Burritos and pizza for lunch, and a not so sensible dinner would eventually bring the fittest of people down. After a month and a half of this situation, I decided to join a gym. So I spent the better part of a Saturday looking at different gyms in my area.

I needed to find a gym open 24 hours, since often I didn’t get home until after 10 or 11pm, and sometimes even later. Many gyms had the necessary amenities (pool, sauna, racquetball courts) but would close too early.

Finally I found a gym only 9 miles from work that fit my needs perfectly, the Olympian Spa, open 24 hours. My tour-guide Jake, a man who had no visible neck, showed me a large cardio room, several racquetball courts and a well stocked weight room. I paid the full year’s membership right there in cash. Jake was happy he didn’t have to strong-arm me into buying a membership, thereby ruining the shirt that hung on his back by sheer force of will.

I noticed after a week of using the gym’s facilities that my energy levels went up and my productivity climbed as well. This pleased my boss and the mirror critic. However, it was getting tough going to the gym three days a week and keep up with the last three weeks of work, but the man in the mirror was relentless in his quiet gaze, even if it was 1am when I ran into him again. The last time is where the man in the mirror was a real bastard, or a saint, depending on your point of view.

Besides the guy at the front desk, whose thick, bald head was buried in the newest muscle magazine, the gym was deserted. I went into the weight room. It was strange to see no one there. No longer competing with grunts of encouragement and the clang of metal hitting metal, the music was almost quiet. I smiled. No waiting for benches; no working my sets in with someone else. I should come here at this time more often I said to myself, setting a bench into a decline position. I punched a set out and then went over to one of the mirrors and grunted through a set of standing curls. The limited time for the gym forced me to exercise no more than 60 minutes, which meant fast sets with little rest, and a quick 10-15 minute session in the cardio room. I didn’t have time to take my time.

I was so busy that I didn’t notice I was not alone anymore. A woman was doing triceps curls with a machine. Her blond hair was pulled back in a pony tail. At first that was all I saw, because I was lost in my need to finish up and get home to some needed sleep. But then I noticed that after I had finished an additional set of decline flies and standing bicep curls, she was still doing her curls. In fact, after ten minutes she was finishing up her first set. She slowly brought the bar down behind her head, paused, then brought the weight back up, locking her arms. It took 30 seconds for her to do one rep. When her hands were all the way behind her back I noticed how her breasts filled her t-shirt, and how her eyes never moved. She stared straight ahead like her eyes were stone. Since I wasn’t in her line of sight, I watched her slowly go through the motion. I could look away before she would even notice. It’s like she isn’t even looking at anything anyway. She’s pulling that weight so slowly, and her arms aren’t trembling. She must be doing this workout for a while.

When she brought her hands to the top again, and held it even longer than the rest, I noticed her eyes were now on me. Quickly I looked down toward the weights in my own hands and turned back toward the mirror.

She got up and moved to a seated machine for shoulders and continued at the same pace. She faced the northern wall directly now, so she stared at herself in a mirror. I brushed aside my interest and tried to finish.

All I needed to do was one more set of bicep curls. I began to set up the bicep bench. One quick glance told me she was still doing her shoulders, and then I went to work. I closed my eyes and forced the first 10 reps out. I was running out of energy, and closing my eyes helped me eek out more reps. I couldn’t help but make the contrast that my eyes needed to be closed to focus myself while she barely blinked at all.

That’s when I smelled Lavender. She was no longer sitting down working her shoulders; she stood right in front of me. Blue eyes. Wow. The movie Dune popped in my head. Were they real? The weights clanged.

She spoke before I could catch my breath.

“I see you straining a lot during your last set. You’re pulling too much weight.”

“No pain, no gain,” was the only thing I could think of. I was beginning to see sand and giant worms and spaceships. Her eyes were exactly like those of the people in that movie. Deep blue eyes that seemed to produce their own light.

She introduced herself. “I’m Serene.”

“My name,” I replied, “is Chris.” Serene’s hand was

soft, but her grip was firm, self – assured, confident. “How do you know I’m pulling too much weight?” I asked, a little put off by her overconfident tone.

“Because I know what I’m talking about.”

“Really?” I said in half mock condesention.

She stepped back.

“I have been working out for a year now, and as I caught you peeking at me earlier, I think you would agree my body is very... (She motioned her hand down her body, inviting my eyes to follow) very attractive. Don’t you think?”

I tried to appear nonchalant. “You’re very toned, yes. But I was more interested in why you were going so slowly.”

Her eyebrow raised. “I can tell you, but it would be better to show you.” Serene said. I started to turn her down.

“Well, I was just finishing up, and…” she cut me off. “Of course, if you are done with your workout, or think going slow is, too feminine, I will understand.”

Damn. I didn’t know what her game was, but she had drawn the line in the sand, and I didn’t want to look like a wuss. I took the offer.

“Ok, I’m up for it. Show me.”

She leaned over and moved the weight-pin up three slots, cutting the total weight in half. I was puzzled. How could that little weight do anything? However, my line of thought was cut off by her cleavage, only an arms-reach away. They looked very inviting. She straightened up, and my eyes jerked away..

“By the look on your face, you must be wondering why I put so little weight.” She said. “To go slow, you will have to cut the weight by half. Otherwise it will be too heavy to do it my way.” She emphasized the last two words. I acquiesced, and put my hands back on the bar.

“When I say go, start lifting the weight. But I don’t want your normal speed; I want you to go super slow. 10 seconds in the positive range, with a 2 second hold at the top, then 10 seconds in the negative range. It should take you 22 seconds to do one rep.”

I was unsure what this would do, but I was willing to give it a go, especially when a woman with breasts like hers was the one doing the training.

“Sounds good. Let’s give it a go.”

“Enthusiasm. I like that in a man.” I tried to hide it, but my cheeks grew warm.

She noticed but quickly started in with the training.

“Ok, ready? Go.”

In order to concentrate better, and to block out unnecessary distractions, Serene had me look at her, specifically those eyes.

She counted up, her voice quieter as each second passed. I had to listen more intently to follow her. She got to 10, and I held it for two seconds, feeling my muscles constrict, and then she counted down. Like before, her voice was strong at first, but lowered as each second past. By the time she came to 1, her voice was barely a whisper.

“How was it?” She asked. It took a second to pull away from her.

“It was good.” I was off with my timing in both the positive and negative range of motion, but I thought it was a good first try.

“Common, give me more than that.” She said. “You had to focus on your muscles and my voice. It's different than you normally do, right?”

My muscles did feel tighter than they normally do, so I had to admit she was right. Yet it felt strange going so slow. And why did she get so quiet?

She had me go again. This time my timing was better; I was getting the hang of going slow, feeling my muscles in their full range of motion, and I listened to her voice as she guided me.

Serene’s voice dropped, but I listened more intently automatically. She reached 1 again. Something was odd, but I couldn’t place it. A buzz in the back of my head made it had to think. My hands, for some reason, didn’t want to let go of the bar.

“You’re doing well.” She stretched the last word out like washed linen, giving it separate life in my mind. I still clung to the bar, fingers tight.

“Are you ready to go again?”

I nodded and answered by stretching my neck.

“Ok Chris, look at me eyes again. You did well the first time, and better the second time. I bet this time you will be so focused on your hands and the weight…” Serene’s eyelids lifted slightly, “…and my eyes, that everything else will be forgotten. Ignored. Ok, lift slowly. That’s it. Slow. Controlled.” Time seemed to slow down.

1…

2…

3… your muscles tight

4… your eyes looking at my

5… blue eyes

6… ocean… deep

7… concentrate on nothing

8… but your muscles

9… my sensual voice

10…my eyes

“Now hold it Chris… good.”

I felt tired, sleepy. I didn’t want to look away.

Nothing else existed. She continued. “Nothing else but the motion of your heart and my voice which causes you to focus on my eyes. Everything else is mist, ephemeral to your existence. Fading away except for me. But you are not falling asleep. Not tired. Your body is focused on the weight; your mind is concentrated on my voice. Your eyes are like lasers locked on mine.

A shadow passed over my eyes. A part of me wanted to see what it was, but her words had pulled my mind and hardened it, drawing form into precision. I held the weight, muscles were like spun steel.

“Good. You are focused on my eyes and barely registered my hand passing into your field of vision. You’re almost there.” She stopped for a second, drew back, and closed her eyes. I didn’t know what she meant, but time was slowing, making it hard to think, to question her. It was easier to just listen and stare. I waited for them to open again.

A few seconds passed. Serene found my eyes still on hers. She then came closer again, angled down so that her body wouldn’t interfere with the lowering of the bar. My eyes instantly compensated for the change.

“Chris, start bringing the weight down, now. She started the countdown:

10… nothing else remains

9… but you and me

8… however you are so focused on me, only me, that you notice

7… your own free will is joining the rest of what has passed from your world.”

-As I lowered the weight, my fingers brushed against her nipples. They hardened, and she drew her breath.-

Serene continued:

6…

I felt fingers trail up my leg, and pressure increase in my shorts.

5…

Hardness, and vertigo.

4…

I heard the familiar sound of someone unzipping their pants, as if from across the room.

“3…Your eyes

2…Your mind and body

1…Mine”

Eyes. Body. Outlines. Sensations.

I Felt my cock throb, but like in a memory of a dream. My hands held the bar. My eyes locked onto hers. Serene’s hands ran up and down my cock, delecately tracing along the veins like fingers through hair.

“Chris, you are now mine. My eyes hold your mind and I control you as easily as I control your cock.” She started jerking me off. I felt hardness, a great urge for her. Not much else.

“Who am I?” She asked.

“Serene” I responded in half-drawn words.

“Yes, but now I am your mistress. I am your queen.” She said, brushing her nipples over my knuckles again.

“And you are my slave.”

“Slave” I whispered

“But you are so far away. So far away from reality, right?” I felt the pressure of her hand around my cock ease, and her eyes pulled away.

“Yes… mistress” was my reply. My own eyes showed her the truth in the words.

“You are so removed now, so lost in me, that if I were to take you now, it would be almost like masturbation.” She remarked matter-of-frankly.

“Chris, my eyes appreciate your devoted gaze, but the rest of me is getting jealous. My whole body is coming into focus. Look at my face.”

I did. Her full lips glistened and sparkled even under the phosphorescent light. Her hair nestled over her left cheek, one small strand clung to the side of her mouth by moisture. A small mole peeked from the other cheek, but seemed to fade into the surrounding blur that started at the cheekbone and ended in the haze that was not her face. It was like looking at a photograph that captured her face in absolute detail and left everything else as a mass of colors and shapes without form.

“The more you see of my body, the more your own body will come into focus again. But your mind will stay mine. And your body will remain my plaything.”

Her hands crossed her torso while her fingers dipped under the light pink midrift top that clung to her skin. She cocked her hip in a sexy pose and lifted. I felt my stomach and chest take shape. My arms tingled as she dropped the shirt onto the floor. She smiled at me and traced the right side of her body with her fingertips.

Her stomach was flat. Her muscles were well toned, their shape apparent yet not over exaggerated. Her breasts were large and firm, her nipples hard and erect. I wanted to touch her everywhere she touched herself. Her fingers sprayed out over her hip.

“You don’t know how much of a turn on it is seeing you like this, Chris.” She now ran her left hand across her breast, circled, then pulled her nipple. Her eyes closed.

“Hnn. I was waiting for someone like you with a weakness for someone like myself: a woman who loves to seduce, hypnotize, who gets so wet in taking control from someone who loves to submit. And here you are under my control, soneone who will do anything and everything that I want. Someone who will receive such pleasure from your mistress, that when you cum, you will be mine, possibly forever.” Her fingers dug in into her own flesh. I was captivated.

“Don’t worry though” she said after drawing in a long breath, “I will give some of your life back to you.” She exhaled while her fingers turned and turned. “Not just all. You can work, hang with your friends, do your taxes, blah blah blah.” She laughed. “But,” she said, biting her lower lip -her right hand finding a warm place under her pants- “when I want you, you will come.”

“Who am I?” She asked again. Her fingers moved in a closing arc between her legs.

“You are my mistress, my queen…” She shivered as two fingers ended their dance and found their way deep inside.

“My Goddess.” A moan escaped her lips. Her body convulsed.

Her fingers appeared again. She brought her middle finger to her lips. Her eyes fixed on my cock as she tasted herself. I needed her.

“Close your eyes.” I complied.

She approached and I felt something wet on my lips. “Taste my finger.” I welcomed the slick taste in with my tongue. I sucked on it, imagining I tasted the real thing.

“How do I taste?” She asked in a raspy, lust-filled voice.

“Wonderful mistress.”

My head arched forward as her finger pulled away, the truthfulness of my words as explicit as the spot between her legs.

“I see that you are very interested in what’s going on underneath my pants. Is it because you want to please me, toy, or because you want to regain your feeling again between your own legs?” Her hand grabbed my cock, adding weight to the question.

“I would please you more if I was able to move my legs again, but I also think it would please you more if I felt the pleasure being with you would bring.” My body trembled, and my nipples grew hard.

She hooked her fingers under the seam of her pants and pulled them down slightly. A tuft of pubic hair appeared. I felt the base of my cock pulse to life. She was in complete control over me, and I wanted nothing else but to be hers.

“Say you want me,” she said sternly.

“I want you.”

“Say it again.”

“I want you.”

“Again.”

“I want you.”

I would have done anything or said anything to see her pussy, to feel my cock again with the crystal clarity of a truth not just blindly accepted, but known, felt, lived in its inexorable force that washes over you. Drowns you.

She continued her dance.

“Watch my hands. Watch… with every inch, you become mine. Soon you will feel everything. Soon you will feel the warm embrace of my pussy, and when you cum in me,” her voice dropped, “you will be mine.”

She pushed her hands down. More and more the memories of sensations past rushed into the now like a tidal wave, obliterating before and after. This moment, the ethereal touch of the present that passes quicker than a heartbeat, was now all that existed.

Serene propped her left leg high on the seat of another machine and removed the pant leg. She revealed shapely, smooth skin and the glistening lips that led to the heart of my new world. The pants dropped to the dark floor, and disappeared into the background. She walked over to me slowly, her firm legs cutting through the rigid nothingness between us. Her nipples traced through the air like diamonds through glass.

She now stood in front of me, her breasts hung inches away. I wanted to lick them, suck them, smell them, but she had other things on her mind.

Serene traced her fingers over my hands, which still gripped the metal bar. She probed the ligaments and the taught skin until her deft fingers slid in between my hands and the silver, warm metal I held tight. She released me from my bond, and turned my hands over to inspect them. My palms were red and rough where I had gripped the bar. My eyes closed as she manipulated her fingers and ligaments, working the hazy, dull pain away. Her touch was magic.

“No Chris,” Serene said as she saw my eyes close. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Look at my legs. So feminine, so smooth, so delicate. Opened, they will bring you to your knees.”

“Look at my stomach. So shapely, so chiseled. When you see it, you will want to run your hands over it. You will want to see it under you, and above you.

“Look at my breasts. So big, so firm, so inviting. Every time you see me touch them when I wear anything from a t shirt to a gown, you will need to touch them yourself, to run your hands over them, to feel your fingers sink into them. When I remove my top and you see how perfect they are, how big my nipples are, and how sensitive they are, you will loose all control and will have to caress them, kiss them, lick them. You will do whatever it takes to make my nipples hard.

“Look at my neck. Every time I offer my neck to you, you will get the urge to kiss me there, to smell my perfume and to taste the nape of my neck all the way to my ears.

“Look at my lips. So full, so lush. If you see me lick my lips, you will focus on them, imagine how soft they would feel over your own lips, how wet and inviting they are, and how it would feel to taste my tongue with yours. How nothing would compare to the sensation of them on your cock.