Date: Wed, 29 Jan 2003 14:01:27 +0000 From: Bryan Thompson Subject: Getting in Shape Chapters 4 & 5 Thank you sir! Here are the next two installments: Chapter Four A few minutes later I stepped into the gym with a towel wrapped around me. I continued to be puzzled that the rest of the program participants hadn't arrived. Christopher joined me a few minutes later. It was nice and warm in the gym so I wasn't shivering. I noticed two things when Christopher walked in. The first was that he locked the door behind him, the second was that he'd also changed out of his street clothes. What a build this guy had! He looked like a Greek statue or something. He was tanned and muscular, wide shoulders, narrow waist. He looked like the man I used to be (well, actually even better than I ever looked) and wanted to be again. "Lose the towel," he said. Puzzled, I noticed that his voice had returned to the same inflection he'd used when I first heard him say on the phone,"Yeah, what is it?" I stepped up onto the scale and without saying a word he recorded my weight as 220 - I knew it should be 180. "You've got your work cut out for you, lard ass." "Uh, can I go get my work-out clothes on before the others show up?" I asked. "No, first I need to do your entry evaluation. I just need to record how many pull-ups, push-ups, and sit-ups you can do at the outset." Why did his voice sound so harsh again?, I wondered nervously. "We'll start with pull-ups, you want the inversion boots or the cuffs?" he asked" "What do you mean?" "Haven't you ever done pull-ups before you big sissy? Here put these on." And he clamped my wrists into leather and metal cuffs and then directed me up onto a stool where he in turn secured my cuffs to the bottom rung of what looked like a double chin up bar. "For safety" he grunted. "All right, give me ten!," he ordered. I wrapped my fingers around the upper bar and struggled to even do three pull-ups, the cuffs made the pull-ups even harder than usual. "Can I get down now, I asked? I'd like to get my work-out clothes back on." "No, you can't, dickhead. In this program you'll have to earn your clothes." "Wait, no way man, this is too gay, I'm not going to run around here working out naked in front of other guys." "You know what asshole? You're screwed! You just agreed to it in our contract, and don't worry, there are no other guys, this is a one-on-one program, just you and me for four weeks, so you'd better get used to it." "You're kind of scaring me, is this some kind of a drill sergeant act?" "Oh, it's no act, fatso! Now I've got to complete your intake evaluation. The next thing I need to see is..." And with that, he yanked down my jock strap and pulled it off over my bare feet. "...how big your dick is...Hey, it's a nice big one--I thought it was when I saw your basket at Starbucks!" And then he flicked my dick with his finger and stretched it out to its full length. I was livid! Another man had never even seen my dick, let alone touched it. "What the hell?! What are you doing, don't touch me!" By this time I was screaming, hoping someone would overhear. "What kind of a faggot are you?!" "Why, what kind are you looking for twinkie?" "I'm NOT" I insisted, "I'm straight! I have a girlfriend!" "Then why did you answer an ad for this program out of a gay newspaper?" "WHAT?!! I didn't even notice what it was, I just picked it up on the train!" I insisted. "Look, just get me down, get me out of here, and let's forget the whole thing. I'm not doing some gay fitness program Christopher!" Christopher turned and looked at me with this diabolical, frightening, look--which I've never forgotten and which I can't describe--and he reached out and grabbed my limp dick and balls with his muscular hand and said, "It doesn't appear to me that you are in any position to say what you are or are not going to do. We have a signed agreement, I have your money, and I also happen to have you by the balls. You can make this easy, or you can make this hard." he said as he squeezed my balls tighter and tighter. "What is it going to be asshole?" "And by the way, you may never EVER, call me by my name again, you will only address me as "Sir." Do you get it?" And with that he squeezed and pulled so far down on my genitals that I screamed out in pain. Chapter Five Christopher had walked out and literally left me hanging. As I hung there, bound, buck naked, somewhere out in the woods in the middle of nowhere with a faggot that was like ten times stronger than me, I realized just how screwed over I was. I started feeling my arms going numb and realized that I had to do a partial pull-up to relieve the pressure. Just when I thought I couldn't take another second, I heard the door open and Christopher walked back through, dressed in grey sweats. "OK" he said, "Let's get you down and get you started." Dumbfounded I didn't answer right away. I decided to at least keep my mouth shut until he released me from the chin-up bar and then decide how to get out of this, even if it meant making a run for it naked as a jaybird. Christopher reached up and released the lock mechanism on my wrist cuffs and then, almost tenderly, he wrapped his strong, muscled arms around my waist, holding my chest against his face with my genitals pressing into his chest and lowered me to the ground. I discovered that my arms were useless. I couldn't even lift them after hanging all that time. What surprised me even more was that Christopher was acting as though we hadn't just had that strange encounter, nor that he was probably guilty of kidnapping and lewd behavior in several states. He just went about his business and pulled me by the arm over to a universal weight machine where he sat me down on a bench to rest a minute. But before I could relax or figure out what was going on, he'd snapped my wrist cuffs onto the bar of this contraption. (Mental note to myself - the next chance I get, get these damn cuffs off!) "All right, let's get ready for your next exercise." he said calmly. I decided I needed to seize the upper hand in this. "Look, don't you get it? I am NOT doing this. I've changed my mind. I am not going to do exercises in the nude in front of a faggot so that you can get off, or for any other reason. Let me out of here, get me my clothes, get these cuffs off, I'll walk out of here, we'll forget this whole ridiculous thing ever happened. Let me go now, and I won't press any charges." Chris shot me another of his twisted smiles. Man, nuts as he is, he sure is a handsome looking guy. He turned, walked back over to the chin up bar and picked my jockstrap up off the floor. He walked back over and without a word, stuffed the smelly thing into my mouth! As I struggled to get it loose with my tongue and spit it out, he grabbed some athletic tape and wrapped it right around my mouth, head, hair everything, several times, then used his teeth to tear it off. "So, you want to play hard to get? Is that the fantasy scene you go in for big boy? OK, I'll play along, but we aren't going to get anything done unless I shut you up. Big dick or no, we still have to do something about your flabby body if you want me or anyone else to get off watching you in the nude. So get to work fatso. Let me show you how I have this exercise station rigged up, I think you'll find it hard to resist." He went on to--shall we say--fasten me to his reverse Universal bench press. He reached up and pulled down some funny looking clamps. I had no earthly idea what he was going to do with them, nor what they had to do with exercising. But I was soon to find out. He pulled down hard on the wires and clamps and without any warning fastened one to my nipple. It was the most excruciating pain I'd ever known. Not only did the clamp cut into the most sensitive area of my body, but the tension on the wire pulled the clamp and my nipple way up in the air. I screamed as he repeated the process with my other nipple. I was about to black out from the pain when he instructed. "Push up on the bench press bar!" I did as instructed and the pressure on the wire was immediately released. The clamps still hurt like hell but the pressure that threatened to rip my nipples off my chest was gone. I grunted a brief sigh of relief, but then could only hold the heavy weight up a few seconds before I had to lower it again, returning the terrible pain and pressure on my nipples. Christopher grinned, "Are you getting the idea? I'm going to leave you for awhile to figure out which one you hate more and while you work those bi's and tri's. Have fun!" And that was how I was introduced to Christopher's house of pain and bodybuilding. But if I thought I'd already seen the worst, I hadn't.