The canvas only yielded slightly as Beate's shoulder bounced hard with a thud, her whole body refusing to loosen the arm lock she had just flawlessly tightened around her opponent. She arched her back and pulled harder, feeling the arm twist and churn between her legs as her foe writhed in pain. Suddenly there was a scream and Beate knew this meant she was seconds from winning. The referee jumped in and tapped her arm, calling the fight in her favour before she yanked the shoulder out of its socket.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Your winner, Beate Kuznecova!" the announcer yelled, with the over the top exuberance reserved for venues larger than the MMA regional tour's one night event in a small bar on the outskirts of Seattle. Events like this were part of the bars plan to do whatever it could to avoid admitting it was not profitable. Beate helped her vanquished foe off the ground, bumped fists, then raised her arms in triumph as the audience of about thirty (forty if you count pets) cheered as much as their sharp elbowed wives and precariously balanced pints would allow.
The rest of the night was the unusual rigamarole of getting her bag from the back office and heading for her car. Usually the fighters would at least nip to the toilets to change into normal clothes, but Beate liked to stew in her shorts, sports bra and the sweat still clinging to them and her body. She slowly unwrapped her hands in the car and only then began to feel her breathing return to normal.
She knew she should go home, she had work the next day. Early shift at the Mart-Co, scanning groceries while being sneered at by an assistant manager who had taken a dislike to her, partly because she would often turn up to work covered in cuts and bruises, partly because the tiny man felt he needed to prove something while in the presence of a woman who could easily snap him in half. But the car found itself driving towards the gym, the fight had ended too quickly and Beate felt the punch bag could give her a few more rounds.
Beate trained at a gym called Maximum Impact, a small gym owned by Jarvis "The Slugger" Samuels, a former UFC fighter and almost champion. His gym was new and trying to establish itself as an MMA gym that developed champions, gaining a rep that becomes self-fulfilling among the prodigious UFC gyms. Because of this the owner was surprisingly supportive and flexible of Beate's whims. This was not the first time her car had arrived in the car park as Jarvis was locking up.
"Urgh." He exclaimed, tossing the keys to Beate, "you know the alarm code and how to lock up, just don't make too much of a mess."
"Thanks Slugger, see you tomorrow."
Beate looked around the empty gym and decided tonight she had fought well enough to justify her usual reward. She skipped to the changing room so she could stand in front of the mirror as she stripped off her clothes.
There was so much in Beate's life that was not going well, she was barely making enough money to pay the rent, working a checkout that she had sat behind since high school, her MMA career still floundering despite an impressive win ratio. All that faded away as she peeled off her competition shorts and sports bra to marvel at a body she considered high maintenance perfection. She grinned as she studied her form in the mirror, every inch of her optimised for peak performance.
She towered over the mirror, drinking in all six ft 1 inch of her amazonian beauty. Her blonde hair was cut into a pixie cut so she didn't have to worry about her hair tie failing and her vision being obscured. Her arms bulged as she flexed to herself, veins and sinew pulsing with power. Her naked C-cup breasts weren't an inconvenience during a fight, but more importantly for Beate, would bounce as she flexed her pecs, a triumph of muscle build and control rare for women outside of bodybuilding. She stroked the sides of her lean torso and moved from one power pose to the next, her incredibly long and thick legs guiding her eyes towards her exposed pubis, totally shaved out of hypothetical vanity for if her competitive shorts ever gave out on her.
Beate finished admiring her nude form and left the changing room to roam the gym. Beate never felt more euphoric than when she was at the gym alone and naked. The world was filled with things that put people in their place, her clothes betrayed the state of her finances, her friends came with social status and power dynamics, but when she stood naked and pulsing with energy, pounding a bag or pushing her body to the limit on some gym equipment, Beate felt flawless.
Beate began to pound the punchbag, her pain shooting through her ungloved knuckles but she didn't care. She was proud and powerful and refused to accept that any addition could make her better. In moments when she paused to catch her breath or have a drink she felt no fear at the creaks and echoes of an empty building, if someone were there she would shame them with her perfection. During one pause in her workout she even let her mind wander over the various motivational posters dotted around the gym, she pictured herself, naked and intimidating, on display around the gym with a caption of 'this is what you're aiming for.'
Beate saw it was two in the morning, she knew she had to go home but not before she indulged the last part of every after dark workout routine. She went to the big mirror by the exercise bikes, and began to masturbate at the sight of the perfect woman playing with her pussy in front of her. With her last moan of delight and exertion echoing through the gym, her muscular body became wracked with orgasm as she collapsed on the floor, satisfied that the gym had once again fulfilled her every need.
...
"Beate! You turn up four minutes late for your shift, black eye and swollen lip, looking like you haven't slept in months. You take the till at the far end and if I get a single customer complaint about you, you'll be fighting for your place in line for food stamps, is that clear?" The assistant manager squeaked at Beate as she shuffled through the staff entrance. Beate's active imagination conjured up the scene of squeezing this pipsqueak's head between her thighs until it popped like an ugly zit on her ass. She mumbled an apology and quietly sat at her checkout for another excruciating shift.
Beate spent her shift doing what she usually did, quietly getting on with her work and fantasising about perpetrating acts of extreme violence on any customer that annoyed her. An old lady would swear at her and she would immediately be in her happy place, ripping off the hag's tits and beating her around the head with them. A couple of frat boys put on their own egotistical performance to try and woo her by establishing dominance, and Beate's mind pictured the look on their faces if she tore off all her clothes at that moment, stunning them with her perfect warrior body before ripping off their cocks and eating them in front of their former owners. This was not entirely healthy but it meant her shift seemed to end moments after it had started. She drudged home and was finally able to catch up on some much needed sleep.
"Nap for a couple of hours." She told herself, "then I'll go hit the gym again." Her eyes dropped to sleep.
Beate's dream was vivid, she was a priestess in some small and distant village. She would wander naked and her shining form meant that through lust or fear nobody complained. When she stood at the altar, the villages would bow in praise, more to her body than the god it represented. Then, as the ceremony ends, Beate would go and sit on an ornate throne, and the villages would be blessed with the sight of their beloved priestess parting her labia and playing with her holy pussy until her moans lost themselves in the cheers of her congregation. She awoke on her sofa, her juices saturating her work trousers. She looked at her phone and swore, she had massively overslept.
Beate had broken a dozen road safety laws to try and get to Maximum Impact before Slugger locked the doors, but she did not have high hopes. She pulled up outside and saw a familiar sight from an unfamiliar angle. All the display lights were off but light emanated from deep inside the gym, this was how she imagined it looked when Slugger had given her the keys so she could train late. She gave the door a quiet push and it swung open.
As she walked into the gym, the telltale sound of grunting and thudding confirmed to her that someone else was at the gym. She sighed, after the day she had gone through, not to mention her dream, she was really looking forward to another naked training session and now she'd have to wait.
Beate passed the dividing wall and looked out into the gym to see a muscular black woman, letting loose with a series of attacks. What shocked Beate was that this woman had clearly had the same idea as her, as she continued her workout without any clothing on her. Beate spent a brief moment wondering if her breasts jiggled so violently when she was training before deciding she had to say something. She cleared her throat and the woman screamed with volume enough to be heard for miles around.
"I'm sorry, I thought I was the only one here, I'll put some clothes on, don't tell anyone..." she stammered in a panic. Beate calmly shushed her.
"Don't worry, it's fine." She soothed, "I understand, when I'm here after hours I do exactly the same thing." Beate didn't know what caused this sudden honesty, but the naked woman gave her a sceptical grin. Beate already felt powerful among the gym equipment with the upper hand in this situation, but she felt bad that her dominance was unfair. She was in charge by virtue of the situation, the humiliation this woman was feeling wasn't earned. Beate decided to make it a fair fight.
Without a moment's hesitation, bolstered by the memories of her powerful evenings, Beate began to strip off her clothes. She had to admit it was different stripping actually in front of someone, but not by as much as she had first thought. She drank in the woman's intimidation, not only was the woman in awe of Beate's toned body, but she marvelled at the bravery of Beate nonchalantly stripping down in front of her.
"My name is Beate, what's yours?" She asked, extending a hand for the woman to shake.
"Shanice." She responded, grabbing Beate's hand, the pressure in their handshake built until it was enough to form diamonds before they mutually disengaged.
"I'm going to hit the chin-up bar, don't let me district you." Beate exclaimed, trying to normalise the situation.
The workout was still enjoyable for Beate, she had proven her confidence to herself and felt more indestructible as a result. The gym was now as much about training her bravery as her body. Shanice felt a bit down about how she had reacted, it felt like she had shown weakness, but she had an idea to regain the upper hand.
"Hey Beate," she began when she saw Beate finish on her bag routine. "Would you mind spotting me?" She gestured to the bench press. Beate couldn't admit that she was still a bit uncertain of sharing her space and privacy with another, and nodded knowing it would be pushing herself.
She took her place, looming over Shanice, her wide stance ensuring Shanice got a close and unrestricted view of her pussy. She endured while Shanice got in her reps before relaxing with her new gym partner.
"That was great." Shanice slurred as she filled her desperate mouth with water. "I never usually get to bench after hours, it's nice to have a spotter." Beate was embarrassed, but had to admit a training partner could be helpful.
"Yeah, we should do this more often" she pushed, she couldn't let Shanice look stronger, if she was training her mind she would need to push this limit just like she had pushed all others. "Really makes you feel powerful right? Training naked."
