PUBLIC PREVIEW – Personal Trainer

These are the first ~1,100 words of a story in progress that’s currently at 1,357 and counting!  Subscribe now on Patreon at the $10/month level or higher for access to what’s been written so far, and to read the whole thing when it’s finished!


Synopsis: In a tiny, private, urban gym, a tough and gorgeous athlete puts a weak slave through his paces.

This F (Femdom) story features:
Wrestling, Foot Fetish, Sock Fetish, Footdom in Socks, Trampling, and Ballbusting.


I stepped up onto the curb and walked down the block past the fashionable little boutiques and the restaurants opening for lunch. I sought out the plain, deep blue door numbered 1441 towards the middle of the block, and found it, trying the handle and finding it locked. I peered through the border of the etched glass pane at the staircase and the exposed brick walls, and then turned to the brass intercom, slinging my gym bag higher over my shoulder.

The door buzzed and I made my way up to the third floor, past the vague sounds of people diligently working in offices beyond nondescript doors, past the ficus trees in large pots, and down a long taupe hallway to an isolated door behind a bathroom. Affixed to the door there was a little black placard indicating that I had found the right numbered unit, and a paper printout encased in plastic which read only, “Athletic Endeavors – By appointment only.”

It wasn’t that I was out of shape. In fact I had a job that was pretty physically demanding and I managed to keep up with my physique thanks to that, which was good because I didn’t really have any particular interest in exercise. But I had heard from a lady friend of mine that training with Miss Jenn not only produced results but was, to use her phrase, a “transcendent experience”.

I had looked at her with a little skepticism. “And what exactly does that mean?”

She had returned my gaze in an unusual way and paused, sizing me up a little, before saying, “Let’s just say it’s an unusual kind of workout.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought she might have winked at me. “I’ll make an appointment for you.”

“Oh, no, really, that’s okay. I don’t think it’s really my thing.”

“Just trust me. Knowing you, I think you in particular might get something out of it.”

I took a breath and rapped softly on the door.

“Well just give me her information then, and I’ll set something up.”

“She won’t do it, it’s referrals only. Her client list is very exclusive. And anyway I’m not sure she’d take you, being a man, but who knows? She might like the challenge.”

When it opened there was a full, statuesque vision before me in a black Nike sports bra with flat, muscular abs stretching out to a patterned pair of knee length, heather grey spandex shorts. I caught myself having let my eyes drift down her body and snapped them back to her face. She looked Hawaiian, and had striking features beneath jet black hair that was up in a tight bun. Her deep, rich, dark chocolate eyes were calculating and tough, but there was a bright, lush, persistent elegance and gentleness like a waterfall flowing through her strong frame.

I looked at her, breathless, floored by her vitality, and she sighed and began tapping her foot expectantly on the threshold. The sound drew my gaze quickly downward, and I saw her thick, white tube socks with thick black rings disappearing into her grey and hot pink sneakers.

“Hi, uh,” I murmured as I looked up at her again. “I…”

“Yes,” she said, snapping her foot down a final time. “I know. And you’re late. Come in.”

She stepped aside and shut the door behind me as I entered the bright, open room. It looked like the small, historic building through which I came in from the street had been joined to the top floor of the one next to it, and the room took up an entire floor. The brick of the walls had been painted over in white, and the room was split down the middle into a mirrored half with a ballet rail and a dance floor, which had been covered with thick, blue, rectangular mats, and the other half had thinner grey foam covering the hardwood floor, with a treadmill, an elliptical machine, a set of small dumbbells, a red, medium-sized exercise ball, and a rack draped with some colored Therabands. Opposite these were a set of four large windows draped with sheer translucent curtains, which bathed the whole scene in pale, late morning light.

“So,” she said as she closed and locked the door, “Karen’s told me a few things about you. I trust she’s told you about me?”

“Just that you’re quite the trainer,” I said, and she smiled at the word.

“So I’ve been told.” She eyed my gym bag. “She didn’t say anything about what I do though?”

I shook my head. “She was pretty cagey about it actually.”

“She ought to have been. I don’t think many of my clients would share too much about what I put them through. I offer a very particular kind of physical fitness service. It’s strenuous, demanding, and it’s designed to work your mind, your body, and your spirit. It’s a workout for your entire being. Do you think you’re up for something like that?”

“Well,” I said, still unsure of what she had in mind. “That sounds like quite the experience, yes.”

“Good.” She went to the corner and adjusted the thermostat, and I heard the central heating system kick on. It was warm already and apparently it was about to get warmer. “I hope you brought water like I told you to. We’re going to sweat today.”

She turned back around and I shifted under her gaze as she stuck her hands on her hips and said, “You and I are gonna get on that mat over there and we’re going to wrestle for several rounds, with consequences or rewards for you depending on the outcome of each.” I looked over her muscular body, thrilled at the prospect of touching her, and I nodded slowly. “As we go on, both the consequences and rewards get greater, and you’ll leave here either completely broken or entirely enthralled. It’s all down to how well you do in the competition. Still interested?”

I took a moment to consider the prospect, but I was feeling more and more hypnotized by her prowess and her power. “Yes,” I said, ready for whatever would happen next.

“Good,” she said again.

She walked across the room to the edge of the mat and turned back to face me, crossing her arms and tapping her foot again. “Well?” she said impatiently, looking me up and down. “You think we’re gonna do this with you dressed like that?”

“No, I… I mean I’ll go change.”

“No you won’t,” she replied. “You’ll strip.”


(c) 2017

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SMUT Project Press!

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