Alex

Sitting on Elise's huge bed, I put down the book I had been reading on my tablet.  Her pillows were large enough to cushion my entire back as I sat propped up.  The alarm clock told me that I had another 4 hours until Elise came home.

The house was eerily quiet.  Elise's mom was at work, and her father had left them about a month ago.  The Pierces had been a devoted couple, but had struggled with the changes in their relationship right from the time she became infected.

Elise had been preparing herself for the possibility for some time.  As I expected, her heart went out to her mother more than her father.  As much as I loved her, she was still a woman, and it was rare for any woman to truly understand the challenges of being a man in modern society.

Feeling restless, I hopped down and decided to nose around her room.  Elise wouldn’t mind.

A photo collage hung above her desk.  Many of the shots were those I had taken of the two of us since we started dating over a year ago, but some were older.  One in particular captured my interest – it was of Elise and several of her field hockey teammates from eleventh grade.  They had just won the game that would send them to the state finals, and were clearly riding high on life.

The slender, athletic girl of average height and slim hips that looked back at me in the photo was barely recognizable.  The Elise that had pressed her lip to mine not four hours prior had hit her full height at 11 foot 2 inches, and had filled out with a set of curves a draftswoman would be envious of.  What a difference two years made.

Though I hadn’t seen her the same way when the photo was taken, I smiled at the memory of our old friendship.  Back then, the world made sense.  Shaking my head, I put the picture back in its place.  No point in yearning for days that could not be recalled.  Time was its own master.

Figuring I could kill some time checking email and looking for job listings on her computer, I moved to her desk.  Upon it sat her woman-sized keyboard and mouse, laptop, notebook, and a 50" LCD display being used as a monitor.  The large interface mocked my too-small hands, but I'd manage.

Let’s see…password.  Fighting back my discomfort at invading her privacy, my first attempts were key dates.  My birthday?  No. The day we started dating?  Nope.  Stabbing blindly several more times, I had a thought – Elise talked often about ‘someday’, when we would be together.  Hmm, what if?  We’d never really talked about it, but just the same, I gave it a try.

“Alex Pierce”

I almost didn’t want it to work, but the PC was unsympathetic, and promptly admitted me to the desktop.

It was common now, I knew; many husbands were taking their wife’s last name, but I just never thought…  Elise knew I was a pretty traditional guy. She had always seemed to support my reluctance to change.  The PC sat, quietly awaiting my command as I mulled over my feelings about this revelation, and whether or not to broach the subject with her.

After a distracted 15 minutes of responding to a few emails from college buddies that had not returned this semester, I sighed, frustrated.  My discovery was a thorn in my brain that I couldn’t help picking at.  What I needed was something to take my mind off it.

Feeling rebellious from my latest find, I thought about driving myself somewhere to get out and about for a bit.  Hell, why not the gym?  I could use a workout anyway.  Elise would be disappointed, I knew, since she had to go this evening anyway, and had been begging me to join her for a while.  Well, that was her problem, not mine.

Grabbing my duffel and keys, I hopped in my car and made good time getting there as it was the middle of the day.  The parking lot was mostly empty; most women didn’t use the gym until after work, of course.

I’d been to this gym before, but that was before it was converted to a licensed treatment facility.  The government had mandated a minimum of four days of 60 minutes of rigorous exercise each week for all infected women.  It was a part of their initiative to stem the rising tide of sexual abuse against men.  Things had truly gotten out of hand for a while.  Thing is, it really seemed to help.  Combined with the injections they received, it dulled their raging hormones somewhat.  Sex crimes against men were still all too common, but greatly diminished overall.

Walking through the front doors, I was greeted by the girl at the check-in desk.  She was short for an infected – definitely less than 10 feet – and had blond hair in a ponytail, soft brown eyes, and a pretty heart-shaped face.  Her slim, lithe figure was on display in her black yoga pants and dark gray stretch top.  She put her cellphone down immediately, giving me a dazzling smile when she noticed me scanning my badge in the men’s card reader.

“Hiya Sweetie, coming in for a little workout?” Her voice was high and pleasant.

I smiled and nodded, moving on.

“Just let me know if you need a spotter or something.  I'm always happy to help!” she called after me, getting back to her phone call as I walked toward the locker rooms.

Changing quickly, I headed back out to the men’s free weights section.  It was by design that it was separated the much larger women’s weight room by a hallway full of aerobic machines – recumbent bicycles, treadmills, ellipticals, and the like.  Passing through, I tried to be discreet as I glanced into the women’s area.

There were several women lifting right now, and watching them was a sharp reminder of the physical superiority of females now.  I noticed a woman placing plate after plate of weight – each roughly the diameter of a car tire – on a bench press bar that was twice as long as I was tall.  Those plates were 150 pound each!  What was even more amazing was that this setup must have been her warmup weight, because she proceeded to rip through a full set of 12 reps without apparent effort.

I was immensely strong compared to other men thanks to the virus, but this… I could lift professionally for a lifetime and never even budge that much weight.  Elise often giggled at me when I tried to act proud or manly, using my strength to impress her.  I always told myself she was laughing with me, but watching those women work out showed me just how silly I must seem to her.  In that moment I felt very small – as a child to her and all women.

She called that love?  Mocking me?  My first reaction to my insecurity was an inclination to lash out in retaliation.  To make her pay for making me feel so small and insignificant.  There must be something I could take from her that would make her feel pain as I did.  But what?  She held all the cards now.  I had no money, no job, little enough position in society...  Feeling trapped and powerless, I realized I was letting my pride and emotion rule me.

Was I being foolish?  It didn’t feel like it, but then again, none of this was her fault, and though it was hard for me to let go of things the way they were, I conceded that I may have even acted similarly were I in her place.  Moreover, the lure of turning over life's burdens to my beautiful, strong, and caring lover was becoming more and more insistent, tempting me like forbidden fruit.  Still, how could I trust her implicitly to care for me if she could so casually hurt me?

As I stood there gawking and wallowing in self-pity, I saw I was getting noticed, so I quickly cast my eyes down and made a beeline for the men’s area.

The equipment in here was nowhere near as nice, or new, as the stuff in the women’s room, but I was a fan of free weights, so it didn’t bother me much.  Dead weight doesn’t exactly stop working with wear.

After I finished stretching, I made for the bench press.  A good warmup for me is 250 pounds now that my strength had leveled off, so I loaded up the bar and banged out a quick set. 

The exertion and lactic acid burning my muscles made me feel alive, and I resolved to start going to the gym more often.

Loading up the bar for max effort and targeting a set of five reps, I psyched myself up for it and began:

One…two…three…ffffoooouurr…

As I struggled to complete my fifth rep, my view of the ceiling was suddenly eclipsed by two massive orbs covered in thin yellow Lycra.  What the hell?  My surprise was enough to make me bungle the lift, and the heavy bar inexorably lowered to my neck as I lost my groove.

“Here, let me help you with that.”  A confident feminine alto issued from the owner of the yellow top.  She deftly bent down, picked up the bar and re-racked it without so much as a grunt of effort.

Gasping for breath, I sat up and turned to find my benefactress.  Unfortunately, she was standing so close that I couldn’t see much beyond the massive bust that loomed over me, but obeying typical decorum in our post-virus world, she stepped back several feet so we could more comfortably look at one another.

The woman was young.  Early twenties, I guessed, and had wavy red hair cut just above the neck.  Her skin was fair with light freckles.  Soft, kissable lips, a small nose and hazel eyes with some of the longest lashes I’d ever seen adorned her pretty face.  She brushed a stray bit of hair behind her ear and tilted her head as she looked at me.  A yellow sports bra showcased large, pert breasts that invited my gaze.  My eyes continued to feast on her toned shoulders, arms and abs.  This woman was the very picture of muscle definition.  Small beads of sweat glistening on her perfect tummy distracted me as I tried to focus.

“T-thanks. Guess I was pushing too hard.” I stammered.

“No problem. That’s what I’m here for” she chirped.  Pointing to her name tag pinned to her top, she said, “Sorry if I scared you.  I’m Beth; one of the trainers here.  In my down time I help the customers out however I can…especially the cute guys.”  She gave me a crooked smile and a wink.

“Alex." I reached out to shake her hand.  She bent and made it possible, "Well, thanks again.”  I said, turning back to my workout to dismiss her.

Out of my peripheral vision I could see her hesitate for a moment as she watched me rack the weight for my next set.

“Anytime.  You sure you don’t want a spot?  I could maybe give you a few pointers on your form as well.”

“Something wrong with my form?” I thought I really knew my stuff.

When she smirked, I knew I had taken her bait.  “Not a thing from where I’m standing, but then you probably meant your workout form”

My eyes rolled.

If she was bothered by this, she didn’t show it.  “Seriously, your grip is off slightly.  You want to widen it a little more than you’re doing now.  Here, let me show you”

Moving behind the bench and kneeling down, she still towered over my prone form as I lay on the bench.  The twin bumps at the center of her skin tight leggings were on display a mere foot or two from my head.  The sweet scent of her body was heady, lulling me into a stupor.  Women’s injections may be desensitizing female pheromone receptors, but they did nothing for the male versions.  Shaking it off, I grabbed the bar with my typical grip to see what corrections she would make.

“Like this?” I asked.

“May I?” she asked, indicating she would show me with her hands on mine.  Her request for permission to touch me surprised me slightly.  Most women didn’t.  She had a friendly air about her, so I nodded.

I felt the backs of my palms engulfed by warm, soft hands.  The bar looked awfully thin in comparison.  Under her expert guidance, my hands were moved slightly outward on the bar and rotated.  Then she reached under my shoulders and slid me up the bench a bit, positioning the bar where she wanted it with respect to my chest.

Her touch was soft, but I could feel the latent strength of her grip.  Knowing how easy it would have been for her to crush my hands against the bar while correcting my form, I figured that she had a good deal of practice touching men.  The thought of the power she possessed in those hands alone gave me a little thrill.  Outwardly, they looked so feminine.  Devoid of callouses, wrinkles, or knobby knuckles, even her perfect tapered and painted fingernails belied their strength.

“You must work with guys…”

“On occasion.  Not as much recently, but it does happen.”  She shrugged.  “Some men tend to prefer trainers that are a bit closer to their size…and most women don’t like their man getting hot and sweaty with another woman.” Another wink.

“Ha! Yeah, I guess I could see that.”

She backed off a bit and I adjusted myself for the next set.

“This feels a bit…off.”

“Yeah, that’s usually what amateurs say when a professional teaches them proper technique. No offense”

“Touché”

The fact that she really was a trainer made me feel more comfortable with her nearness, so I started into my next set.

One…two…three…

Her focus wasn’t obvious to me, completely absorbed as I was with finishing my set.  On the fifth rep, I again struggled on the return, so she brought her hands under the bar and started shouting to encourage me.

I exhaled fully as I reached full extension, completing the set.

The weight slammed back down on the rack.

"That felt good!" I gasped. "I felt that working my triceps a lot more than before.  Thanks for the tip!"

Pumped from my success, I smiled and turned to find her chest heaving and muscles involuntarily clenching.  Apparently her desensitized receptors were simply overwhelmed.  Her eyes devoured my body and she bit at her lower lip.  Diamond hard points began to tent the fabric of her yellow top, slowly rising to prominence as I watched.

Freezing up, I sat for a minute, wondering if she would get it under control.  Using the techniques I had practiced so often, I reduced my pheromone output as much as I could to help her.  It seemed that she was winning the battle against her nature when I noticed two other women enter the men’s area.

The one on the left was the taller of the two, and had short dirty blond hair tied back.  Her extremely thin frame, slim hips and slight chest was mostly concealed by her Under Armor stretch top and full length pants, but she had a wiry look that warned of her underlying strength.

The other had dark, kinky hair pulled back, and was the prettier of the two.  She was dark skinned, and every inch of her was covered in cut, toned muscle.  Nothing obscene, like one might have seen in a female bodybuilding tournament, but shadows clung to her everywhere as even the smallest of muscles was starkly defined.  It was all barely covered by her skin tight workout shorts and sports bra. 

The two additions sauntered over to Beth and I, and Tall Girl said, “So, Beth, who’s your hottie?  New client?”

Beth’s easy demeanor seemed to melt like last season’s snow at the two women’s appearance.

“Nah, not a client.  I was just giving Alex some pointers.”

At this, the lionesses circled in.  Muscles got to me first, exerting her dominance over me through her look and posture. Standing two feet in front of me, she cradled my entire head with her hands, looking me over appraisingly as I tried to turn my head to the side, “Oooo, he’s cuuuute.”

I was so concerned with escaping Muscles' grip that I hadn’t realized Tall Girl come around behind me.  When the dark skinned girl finally released me, I stumbled backward and tripped right into the waiting arms of a kneeling Tall Girl.  Her modest but large-to-me breasts cushioned my head as I pitched back.  She wrapped my torso with her long arms and let her hands roam over my chest.

“Mmmm, someone’s eager.  Whaddya say, Shorty, should the three of us take this back to my place?”  Looking up to Beth, she continued, “Sorry Beth, I know you’re not done working for the day.  I promise we won't break him.  Mostly.” she said with a wicked smile.

“Good God Shelly, you and Alison are such sluts.  Do you have to harass every guy that comes in here?”

Muscles – Alison? – fired back, “Please! What a little bitch you are, Beth. Don’t act like you didn’t think about it.  Why do you always take their side?”

Shelly snickered from behind me, “Seriously.  Don’t act like you’re protecting them - they love this.  It's obvious.  If this guy didn’t want the attention, why would he be in a place like this?  How many other guys do you see here?  I saw him checking us out earlier too.  He's begging for it.

“Aren't you, baby?  I saw the way you drooled when you saw us pushing up those heavy weights.  You want a big, strong girl to show you a good time, don't you?"

With that, she leaned her head down to the side of my face, slowly and sensuously licking from my neck all the way up the side of my face to my temple.

“Mmmmm, he tastes gooooood.  Come on girls, you know you wanna lick.”

I struggled to get away, but she held me captive with a single arm around my chest.  Her other hand quickly found the underside of my shirt and she jerked it off roughly, showing off my lightly sculpted abs and chest.

"Get, the fuck... offa…me!" Continuing to fight in vain, I threw everything I had into escape, but to no effect.  Her desire only burned hotter when she felt the smooth skin of my chest, fingers lewdly rubbing my skin.

Sucking in a breath at the sight of my naked upper body, Alison acted next, getting on hands and knees in front of me and bringing her large head inches from my crotch.  She slowly moved upward, following the line of my chest while maintaining her closeness until she reached my face.  Her gray eyes were heavy as she panted, sweat dripping from her brow.

Beth mumbled under her breath, "You idiots had better knock this shit off!  Do I need to remind you this is an official facility?  He clearly doesn't appreciate your attention.  This is illegal."

Shelly pulled me in to her body in a tight grip against my upper thighs, grinding me into her pelvis from behind.  The fact that I would probably be in a lot of pain were I not genetically adapted to this sort of rough treatment fleetingly crossed my mind.

Seeing this only get worse unless I did something, I devised a plan. 

“So, Alison, was it?  And Shelly?  What if I do want a big, powerful woman?  I don’t see anything like that here.  My girlfriend…now that’s a woman, but you two look like a couple of scrawny girls compared to her.

She benches just shy of 1000 pounds.  If you can beat that, then maybe you’ve got a shot at deserving me, but I’m betting that’s not gonna happen, is it?”  This was ridiculous, of course, as I’d never heard Elise talk about strength training, but it was a necessary part of my deception.

Seeing the fury igniting within their eyes, I knew I was treading on dangerous ground, so I redirected.

“Then again, you look a bit on the short side for women, but you do look pretty buff.  You think you might be able to beat her?”

Alison scoffed, standing to her full height to maximize the intimidation, “Really? Did you just call us short?”  She grabbed me under the arms and easily lifted me so we were eye to eye. 

Looking down at the 5 feet in between me and the floor, I gulped. 

“Fine, show me then.  Rack that weight and let’s see what you got!”

Beth had stepped up beside me and attempted to grab my arms to pull me away from Alison, but she wasn’t relenting.  I cried out in pain as they both gripped me hard to apply their immense strength.  Beth released me, hissing, “Put him down, you fucking cunt, or I’m calling security”

Finally relenting, she dropped me to the floor.

“Fine, we’ll have a little contest then, nice and friendly.  You-” she said, stabbing me in the chest with a lacquered fingernail, “will be the prize.” 

Shelly tossed me back my shirt and I put it on.

Part one was a success, now I just had to figure out how to maneuver through part two without getting abducted and/or raped.