I lay beneath the barbell and push the weight three inches up so that my arms lock out, supporting the record breaking gravitational mammoth above me. The force I feel pressing down on me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt, but I refuse to let that intimidate me. One rep, is all I’m here for. Slowly I allow my elbows to bend outward, and immediately I feel the pumping white-hot pain sear across my arms. For a second I feel in control of bar, feel in control of this gargantuan force in my arms, but no sooner does my left elbow fail-out for a fraction of a second. The shock is jolting, and I nearly exhale completely trying to regain control, but I stop the bar from dropping any further. Panicked, I try to lift the bar back up and reset it on the bench, and to my sudden horror my arms refuse to budge. This is when the inevitable sets in. There’s nothing I can do to get this weight off me, and in a matter of seconds it’s going to collapse onto me when my arms finally give out.
Half of my brain remains focused and collected, trying to find away to position myself away from the barbell before it’s too late. But the other half is having a level nine melt-down of terror and self-loathing. How could I have been so stupid to have tried this? What the hell had gotten into me? Before these humiliating thoughts are able to bring me to tears under the wrath of the barbell my rational brain comes up with a plan, sort of.
With what’s left of my breath I let out a strained but somewhat vocal call.
“P-haul!” my lungs empty and the barbell drops another two inches further on me before I can inhale and push back against it. There’s not much time now, as the weight still continues to drop steadily and is only about four inches from my ribs. Another panicked chill sweeps over me as I imagine what will happen then as barbell would pin me there and slowly squeezes my last breath out of me.
NO. My determination kicks in for a much needed second wind. I won’t let this happen.
“PAUL!” I bellow. This time I don’t let the barbell sink any further. I can tell that it might have been effective this time as I hear my panicked cry echo in the empty weight room, hopefully some of that distressed cry was able to leak out the door to find Paul wherever he was in the gym. A desperate hope, I know, but it’s all I have left. A few more seconds tick by before the weight finally makes contact with my lower chest, it’s over now. The self-hating thoughts stop now, only because they’d feel pointless to be my last. This is it, there’s nothing left in me to push. I close my eyes, and accept what’s to come.
“You’ve got this, Melanie. Don’t give in yet,” the familiar masculine voice calls out. My eyes shoot open and like an angel, there’s Kevin standing over me now. I’m unable to tell if he’s furious or simply focused, but again he’s looking at me with his eyes that force my body to comply. Of course there’s really no energy in me to push back time, so Kevin places two open hands beneath the weight and lightly begins raising it up so that my arms still do most of the work and I get my complete rep.
Immediately I lean forward to bury my face into my hands, horrified by what has just happened. I swear to myself that I won’t cry, but it definitely feels like that’s coming.
“You want to tell me just what the fuck you were thinking?” He snaps once while I’m still catching my breath. “You come out here by yourself, add way more weight than you can handle and purposefully fail-out on the bench-press? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”
“I do,” I said in between heaves, “I just.. got excited.” Kevin didn’t seem remotely impressed by my answer. For a moment he actually makes me feel guilty for attempting the weight without him, but then I remember I’m not the only one who needs to give an explanation. “Wait, how did you know I was in here?” His mouth hangs open as if he’s no longer going to start his next guilt-laden sentence and the faintest hint of pink sprouts at the tops of his cheekbones. While he searches for his words he comes over to the bench and sits down next to me.
“I... volunteered for maintenance and surveillance for tonight. I owed a favor to the owner.”
“And you just happened to pass the third floor women’s weight room? There’s nothing up here that needs more than two minutes worth of maintenance.” Now I have him cornered. It’s time for Mr. Kevin Campbell to come clean with me. It feels heroic, like I’ve won. But when Kevin allows the unbroken silence to continue I decide to press further. “Oh, I see. You were probably showing your new client how to give head while she work’s on toning her arms.” This reveal of my knowledge about what I saw him and my mother is the first time I’ve ever mentioned it out loud. It felt undeniably good to get it out, but once it was I start regretting the way I said it with so much obvious emotional attachment. I wish it could sound like I barely remembered it. Like I didn’t revisit the memory almost every night.
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Melanie. And I’m not sure why you’d care who I brought up here. Apparently you don’t have time to even call me to let me know you don’t need a trainer anymore.” The nerve of him to turn this back on me boils my blood. How dare he refuse to acknowledge what I saw him do with my mother. I could start to scream. I could start to cry. but instead I turn to him and raise my hand to slap his self-righteous arrogance right out of his smug know-it-all smirk.
But before I can make contact, Kevin turns to look me in the eyes, and I realize how much I’ve missed him. His absence has been the cause of so much needless anxiety and stress in the last few weeks. The anger in each of us washes away from our eyes as we turn to each other, and I collapse into his enormous arms. He holds me there for a second, tightly, before he lifts my chin up to his for a soft but very supportive kiss. Our lips embrace and I feel the warmth of his tongue as it wetly massages underneath mine.
This is supposed to be the part where we stop and confess feelings for each other. This is supposed to be where we apologize, and promise never to abandon each other again. Two seconds, and then two minutes ago should have been that moment. We both know it, but the eruption of heat from us now pushes that moment aside.
He reaches over to place his hand beneath my knee, the gentle ensuing squeeze beneath sends a reflexive jolt I can feel in my underwear. I respond by throwing my leg over his lap, elated and now soaking from the stiffness of his obscured cock pressing on the weight of my body at last. For half a second I feel him grind against me while his tongue explores mine. I no longer control my pelvis as slowly but deliberately thrust so that I grind my slit against his hardened abs. But without warning he pulls away, maybe a second before I was going to take my shirt off.
“No,” he says firmly. What? Didn’t he feel the passion between us? Didn’t he want to unleash it now? I’m confused because the stiffness in his gym shorts that was nearly supporting me up on it’s own seemed quite interested in where this was going. “I didn’t ask for this. Get off.” He commanded, and before I could protest he had me seated back on the bench by myself. “You’re acting just like your mother. This isn’t what I want.” I open my mouth to stop him but nothing comes out. What’s wrong with what we were doing?
“Wait, Kevin.” I manage to squeak out. But I’m still too confused to know where to begin to argue.
“I’m sorry it came to this,” he mutters as he heads for the door. This can’t be happening. What did I do? In a fit of desperation I follow him to the door where he’s a moment away from disappearing around the corner.
“What do you want me to do?” I let out in a desperate call down the hallway. And to my amazement Kevin stopped, filling the corridor with his extra-large muscular frame. There’s a pause and Kevin looks relieved for a moment before retuning to his normal focus.
“Follow me.” He commands, and I take off to catch up behind him. He leads me to the stairs and he continues down to the first floor. “You know that things aren’t going to be the same for us. If you keep following me, we’re never going to be the same people that we were before you left.” he marches forward, never once looking over to me. My certainty for my bodybuilder personal trainer wouldn’t allo
w me to reconsider anything. As he walks in front of me I can’t help openly admiring the broad sway of his shoulders. I want to feel them pressed on top of me. There’s a thousand scenario’s playing through my head of different ways for my trainer to take me, and I’m entertaining them all.
“I am.”
“Good, that’s something I never got through to your mother. And a likely part of why she stopped coming to me. That woman has to have control, and that’s something that doesn’t work for me, Melanie.” I nodded, though I suppose he couldn’t see while I was two steps behind him. We cross the gym’s lobby until we’re suddenly in front of the men’s locker room.
“Do you want me to wait for you?”
“No. You’ll be fine,” he assures me. “It should be mostly empty now anyway.”
I step into the steam filled locker room behind him. I get a few intrigued looks from some of the men I’ve recognized as regulars over the years. Some look like they want to say something to me. But part of being in the company of one of the gym’s most built attendees gives me the confidence to go anywhere I want. We round one of the lines of lockers and Kevin halts for a moment to take the padlock off of locker 73b.
“Oh, is this your locker?” I ask intrigued. Right now I feel like I’m on a field trip to a forbidden part of the gym. There aren’t many men around, but the few I saw in the steam clouded shower looked amazed to see me. I hope I run into Paul again here, just to leave him wondering for the next month.
“No, well kinda, I guess,” he answers. Not the answer I expected as Kevin pulls out a navy duffle-bag. “Come,” he instructs as we continue walking again. In the rear of the men’s locker room there’s a solid red painted metal door with the words “Personnel Only” the vagueness of the door doesn’t seem to bother Kevin though, who holds the door open for me this time as I pass through behind him.
I step into a filthy corridor that smells like cleaning chemicals. There’s only a narrow passageway to walk through because the walls are lined with plumbing and two water-heaters that nearly seal the path. Watching Kevin maneuver through here is almost comical as his larger frame literally rubs against the plumbing as he passes.
“Where are we going?” I ask, as far as I can tell the room dead-ends not twenty feet from the door we entered. As Kevin squeezes past the second water heater he begins shuffling through his pockets and pulls out his keys. Though I can’t see him completely I hear him open yet another door for me. The room we enter is unlike anything I’ve seen at the gym before. It’s a little smaller than the third floor women’s weight room, but it’s loaded with some of the most intense work-out equipment I’ve ever seen. The single ceiling light softly reflects a rust colored tint to everything, as if lit by torch.
“This is where the serious trainers come to test ourselves. It’s free from the distraction of the crowded main gym. And this is where we bring girls who want to prove themselves,” he gestures. “You asked me what you could do, Melanie,” I nodded, it was as true now as it was then, but I still had no idea where this was going. “I’m going to ask you to not do something, and depending on your success or failure at this task you’ll determine how we’ll go from here.”
“I’m ready for anything,” I said confidently, and it was true. In the last hour I’ve been scared and felt like quitting, and pressing on more than I had in years.
“For tonight, and from here on, you’re going to give up your right to let yourself cum,” he said coldly. “From here on, that is my role, and my role only.”
As he gestures to the various parts of the room he begins to strip, first removing his sleeveless workout shirt freeing the mighty girth of his pecs and shoulders. Next he sheds his gym-shorts to his boxer briefs where the tip of his cock barely pokes out from the bottom, begging to be released. There’s a grace to the way the man strips, as if he looks more comfortable without the clothes that restrict his vascular physique. “I’m going to be interrogating you in a moment. And during that time if you at once slip up, I’m leaving you here, and I’m taking your clothes with me. And that will be the end of us.” I physically gulped. What would Kevin be asking me? What did he want me to tell him? I realize now that this is a test of my determination, and I vow to
“If you understand everything I’ve just told you, and you still want to continue with this,” he says as he turns revealing to me for the first time his colossal throbbing hard shaft, “What are you going to do now?” I stare, hypnotized by the girth of his erection. I can feel my mouth flooding with saliva as I think of how it would feel inside me. “Don’t think too hard, Melanie.”
“I’m going to do whatever you want me to do,” I reply. I’m amazed at how incredible it feels to release myself in this way, yet it flows out so naturally.
“That’s a good girl,” he lauds, “Now step up here, and let’s see how well controlled you are.” My ever-present want and need to impress Kevin leads me to stand up onto the strangely positioned machine, but before I can get my second foot up he stops me. “Not like that, strip,” he instructs, and I happily oblige. I slide my workout top and sports-bra off, letting my pink pebbly swollen D-cups stiffen in front of him. For a moment his guard drops and I can feel him appetizing over the sight of my perky virgin breasts. I lower my gym shorts to my ankles, but when I go to slide off my black G-string thong he stops me. “Not that, Melanie. Now step up.”
I rest my chest against the upright foam pad that lets my tits swing beneath. The foot stands force me to stay at a somewhat diagonal angle with my ass pushed up openly on display. As my head and arms hang off the sides of the foam chest piece, I wonder what I’m supposed to do next. Just then I feel a softly tightening restraint secure around my left ankle, then my right.
“Hold onto the bar, Melanie,” he instructs, and I obey. Kevin then fastens my hands together with a soft blue nylon rope. It bounds my hands by the wrists and latches securely to the bar two-feet off the ground. From there I’m stuck. Completely immobile, I try not to stare too directly at Kevin’s body as he’s doing all this, but my eyes get stuck again on his chiseled physique. He’s truly something to appreciate. Every year he’s spent toning his body is present. His chest, his abs, his legs all represent the embodiment of physical dedication.
After my hands are secured Kevin goes back to the duffle-bag he pulled out of the locker room earlier. With his back turned to me, I realize for the first time how much I love being on display like this. I imagine how revealing I must be as I feel the ceiling fan air blowing coolly against my panties. I start to warmly moisten at the thought of revealing everything to my personal trainer. I never thought this was how I’d first have a man explore my body, but as my heart pumps faster with anticipation I know I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Out of the corner of my eye I catch Kevin walk past me with a black plastic wand with a tennis-ball sized head at the end of it, and I realize what’s about to happen. Though I’ve never used one, I recognize what he holds as a vibrator/massager. Something I’ve thought about buying before, but have always been too embarrassed by the idea. Motionless, I feel the round wand positioned against my pussy. While the wand is still turned off I feel Kevin exploring my ass with his muscular hands, occasionally pausing to squeeze or pinch a piece of my heavy rump and then giving it a hard smack. I’m anticipating him so much that I start slowly gyrating my hips, which is about all the movement I’m allowed.
“Are you ready, Melanie?” he asks from behind me.
“I am.”
“Wrong answer,” he says sternly, and a stampede of vibration swarms my unsuspecting virgin pussy. My eyes shoot open, and I voice a high-pitched chirp from the shock. The powerful hum of the vibrator sends ripples of energy that I can feel from my thighs to my ass. Part of my naivety as a virgin made me think that nothing could bend me to it’s will like this, no amount of sensation could make me forget myself the way I am now.
“This is the first of three levels of intensity, Melanie. If you don’t want me t
o leave you here powerless against the third level you better answer to me as ‘Sir’” he punctuates his command with another hard slap on my bottom.
“Yes, s-sir,” I heave. I’m only able to lend Kevin about fifty percent of my mental energy on what’s going on around me, the rest of my mind is decidedly focused on not giving into the electric temptations that I can feel in my bottom row of teeth, begging me to come against his will.
Kevin reappears in my field of vision holding a small metal remote in his hand.
“Do you understand why I’m starting you out this way, Melanie?” I’m hesitant to respond, I’m not ready for Kevin to raise the intensity on this thing, it might push me beyond my threshold of self-control.
“I don’t.”
“I’ve wanted you for years, Melanie. I’ve lusted over taking your virgin innocence more nights than I’m able to count. And I’ve hated myself, because you’ve hired me to make you another dull, barbie-doll when you have no idea how desirable you are filled out,” he confesses as he moves closer to my face. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you Melanie?” How did he know? Could he tell by my reaction to the vibrator? Did he talk to Paul?
When I give no response aside from my half-opened eyes rolling further back into my head, he continues.
“Look at my cock, Melanie” he orders, “Do you see how it’s throbbing for you right now? It’s beating with the rhythm of my heart, and every part of my body wants nothing more than to claim your virginity. I want to fuck you until you’re useless,” the words echo in my mind as I visualize him doing just that. Under the persuasion of the vibrations between my legs I want to use me anyway he likes. “But I’m not doing that tonight. Do you know why?”
“P-lease,” I beg, before I can correct myself, “No sir.”
“I need to know what you want,” he says. “And don’t just say you want to come, I need you to look deeper than that. Do you like me making you my bitch?”
Manhandled by My Personal Trainer (BBW, BDSM, Curvy, Deflowering, Spanking Erotica) Page 3
