Brod The Trainer

***

Sarkopheros Says:

Hey, guys, new Brod. I know I usually don't make author statements in these things, but you should probably get used to it, because I prefer that people have a vague idea of what they're getting into. I don't believe these forewords spoil a whole lot, but feel free to contact me if you disagree.

Anyway. This story will involve some light femdom and emphasis on sexual musk in addition to the usual Brod tropes, so I want you to be warned. Some people don't like emphasis on smell. I love it. Not body odor, I'm talking the scent created by hot, sweaty bodies and their genitals when they're put together.

Brod is thrust into a situation he doesn't understand here, and if you're expecting the usual Brod thing to happen, well ... it kind of does. But as I mentioned, there's some rather light femdom, and yes, it happens to Brod. I can't write about the same thing

all

the time, now can I? Just 99% of it.

***

This story is sort of a sequel to "Doctor's Note," but you don't have to have read that to understand this one. As with that story, this was before I lost a lot of fat, so my cock really

only

had maybe 17-18 useful inches. Not that I ever get to use that much. This story is about the beginning of my fitness journey to where I am now.

You may remember that Dr. Nahid Ghali was trying to get me to see a physical trainer she knew. Nahid looks out for me. I've known her a very long time, and she's brilliant. She now works for me as a reproductive endocrinologist. As you may know, I'm a professional breeder. Women pay me to impregnate them. Her guidance is a large part of my success. I didn't need any help knocking anyone up, but she makes me better at it.

In the last story, you may also remember that I fucked twenty-nine different girls at the campus clinic. Thirty if you count Dr. Ghali's enormous tits. What I didn't mention, and what embarrassed me, was the fact that after girl ten, I was wheezing and breathing like crazy. My heart was pounding, threatening to escape my ribcage. My face was bright red. I actually had to stop fucking for a good while to catch my breath. After girl fifteen, I was in the same situation once more. I had to stop repeatedly.

Fortunately, most of the girls were very eager and rode my cock of their own volition. They'd take turns, a couple girls helping to guide one onto the head of my fat cock, stretching her out while she came all over me. They'd help her bounce up and down until I bloated her belly with jizz. By the time I was ravaging the last girl's cunt, I had recovered enough to do things myself.

At the end of that, I was completely exhausted, however. I just didn't have the physical power or endurance to be as actively dominant as I am today. Nahid herself has a dominant sort of personality, which you may have noticed in that story. She was more than happy to ride my cock after feeding me. Then it was her daughter, Mariam's, turn.

I could easily burn thousands of calories in those hours-long fuck sessions. But I ate so poorly that I stayed enormously fat. I should have taken a hint, but I didn't. It wasn't until a later incident where I injured my knee that I realized something had to be done about my weight.

It had happened while providing a few dozen ladies, mostly MILFs, with swollen bellies. It was a bachelorette party. I enjoy the company of mature women as much as I enjoy the company of younger women—they know what they want, and in general, they can take more of my cock more easily.

The main tradeoff is that most of the 40 and 50-somethings are often not as ... shall we say, rambunctious? Experimental? As I've often said, I don't care about anything but them being willing and looking good. And every person is unique, but you notice certain trends when you meet enough of them. Some middle-aged women are wild. Especially when you get liquor in them and put them in an environment like a bachelorette party. And at this point, ladies and gentlemen, I am going on a tangent

In any case! I'd been stumbling back to a chair, wheezing and catching my breath, when I lost my balance going down a couple of stairs and twisted my knee. Such a small distance, such horrible pain. The tearing of my ligament was audible. A loud pop, unexpectedly.

Luckily, the nurses at the hospital kept me company. My lady friends, and of course, the ladies from the party also came to visit me regularly. When I finally recovered enough to walk into the hallway, I found out that the nurses had grown weary of directing traffic and had resorted to putting up signs directing well-wishers to my room. I imagine it was also much to the relief of my roommate that they moved him to a different room. After my knee healed, I talked to Dr. Ghali about her trainer. A week after that was my first appointment with Yara.

I'd fucked fit chicks before, but it wasn't until this incident that I developed a "thing" for muscular women that put them right up there with girls that had a plump ghetto booty. Don't get me wrong, I love girls of all body types. If you're a lady or a smooth, cute boy, I'd most likely be quite happy to spend some time making you cum your head off and ensuring you had difficulty walking the next day. I love nearly all women. Thin, fat, those in between. But maybe after this you'll see why I developed this particular fascination with fit girls.

It was in the afternoon when I showed up at a little gym. The door jingled as I came in, holding a duffel bag with entirely too many things in it. I had no clue what to expect, so I had about three shirts, two kinds of sweatpants, maybe 450 water bottles, ninety-seven protein bars, compression sleeves for every conceivable body part but my balls. It was more a matter of what I

didn't

have.

I was greeted at the door by a girl with a warm caramel complexion. Her jet-black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a couple of bangs hanging about her inviting face. But what was most striking were her eyes. Big, brown eyes like amber. They had a gentle slant, not unlike my own. I guessed her to be part Filipino, or perhaps another south pacific ethnicity.

She smiled at me. "You must be Brod," she said, eyeing the swinging, heavy sack of flesh poorly hidden by my bright red Hawaiian shorts. They fit, so I wore them. Clothes were even harder to find back then.

"That's me. Hey. And you're Yara?" I couldn't stop looking into her eyes.

"My god, did you just buy everything in Sports Authority?" she asked, looking down at my bag. A navy-blue sports bra held back the gentle swells of her modest breasts. Her shorts exposed the lines of her quads, sculpted into her thick thighs. Her belly was bare, flat abs gently moving with her breathing. She grabbed my bag and hefted it. "You only needed

one

huge sack, Brod."

I chuckled, smirking a bit. "That one's pretty heavy, too."

"I heard," she said.

"Think you can handle all of it?" I asked.

She fixed me with a stony glare and jabbed her finger into my chest. This was the first time I realized how strong she was. That stung! "Let's get one thing straight. I'm here to get you in better shape. I'm doing this for Nahid as a personal favor. When we're working, we're

working

, you got it? I'm

not

here to join your harem."

The idiotic grin on my face disappeared. I was caught off-guard. "Y-yeah, okay."

"I am your boss. You

obey me

," she said, closing in and invading my personal space. This wasn't like when other women did it. This wasn't flirting. This was all about her making sure that I knew how things worked around here.

"Okay, I'll listen."

Yara shook her head. "Say it, Brod. Say Yara is your boss."

Up until then, no woman had

ever

spoken to me like this. My heart was accelerating. I was confused. On the one hand, I instinctively wanted to revolt. Who is she to talk to me like that?! On the other ... honestly ... I sort of

liked

it.

"You're my boss, Yara."

She patted my cheek and turned, waggling her finger, guiding me deeper into the facility. I wove through the alien landscape of metal racks and machines. My eyes weren't on them, though. They were on her bouncing, rocking, luscious bubble butt. Back then, I didn't realize that what I was seeing was the combination of countless squats and some natural thickness. I seriously just thought some people had great butts and some didn't.

Yara turned towards me. "Put the bag down. Is this what you're going to exercise in?" She gestured at my clothes.

"Yeah? Is something wrong?"

Her amber eyes locked with mine again. Somehow, her gaze was cold, yet not unfriendly. "It's fine, I just want to make sure you're comfortable. Once we start, I don't want us being interrupted unless necessary. Alright?"

I nodded.

"I'm assuming you have about ten gallons of water in there. Take it out, put some on the bench there. No one's coming in for a couple hours to use it."

I did exactly that. I had a gallon-sized water bottle and a more manageable liter-sized one.

"Good. Okay, warm up. I want you to follow me as best you can."

Yara proceeded to guide me through a few basic exercises. Some arm rotations, some (attempted) toe touches. Planking from my knees. It wasn't long before I was breathing hard. My shirt became dark with sweat. She'd occasionally stop me and correct my form. It was hard, but I learned.

"It's hard right now, I know," she told me during a break. "But I have a plan to make you strong. I don't want you to get discouraged. No one starts off with abs like mine." She smirked sidelong at me. "After a few months, you won't tear a ligament fucking a bunch of middle-aged ladies."

I chuckled. Once we went back to work, we both realized pushups didn't really work with how big I was. My melon-sized nuts kept pressing between my legs and the floor. It was really uncomfortable. Yara must have noticed because she told me to stop. I was hoping this would excuse me from pushups, but she figured out a way. She had me put my knees on one of the benches, and pulled up another one for me to put my hands on. Now I could do pushups while my bulge dangled below.

This entire time, she'd been doing the exercises alongside me, and didn't seem to be exerting any effort at all. Watching her move was fascinating, though I was too exhausted to enjoy the aesthetics of her body.

"Okay, Brod. You catch your breath. Time for the next step. I'll be right back."

I sat on a bench and watched as she walked outside. It was the middle of the afternoon. The sun was blazing and the air was like steam. Yara began running. Around and around the building. The fuck was she doing? I watched as she passed the windows again, again. Seriously, the fuck is this?

Finally, she came back in about ten minutes later. I could see glistening sweat rolling down her skin. Droplets trickled down her thighs, damp spots appeared in her clothes. When she came close, I could feel the heat coming off her body. I started breathing harder. I could smell the hot scent of fresh sweat.

A little smirk crossed her face. "

Mmm.

"

Was she expecting this reaction? I ...

liked

it. Yara took her shoes off, then slipped free of her socks. She wiggled her toes before shoving her foot into my chest, pinning me on my back. The trainer straddled the bench above my head. She lowered herself, shoving her sweat-drenched cunt into my face.

"

Mmmphr-mmm!

" I protested into her sweaty muff. Fuck! I could smell her hot, spicy-sweet, inviting feminine scent. The musk, the acridness of her sweat. It was as if the heat and exertion just made it stronger. She ran her fingers through my hair, grinding her sweaty mound into my mouth and nose. Muscular thighs wrapped around my head, making sure I couldn't escape. All I could smell was Yara.

And to my surprise and embarrassment, my cock responded, too. It started to swell, tenting my shorts outward. Yara finally released me and stood up. I gasped for air.

"What the hell?!" I panted.

She turned around and lowered her drenched crotch to my face again, grinding and rubbing all over me. My heart was pounding as I felt her hands freeing my organ. I wheezed for air as she used my face as a seat, her powerful thighs wrapped around my head again. I felt her hands pumping my cock as it grew bigger and bigger. A fingertip teased the tip until precum started to flow.

Then she was gone. I gasped. I could breathe again! But ... I honestly missed that smell. My chest heaved as I looked at her. I wanted her to do it

again.

"Strip."

"What?"

"Naked, now!" she snapped, her gaze piercing.

I got up and did what she said. In moments, my bulbous body was bare.

"Go take a shower," she said.

"Shower?"

"You know, the thing where water falls on you and you clean yourself?" asked the trainer.

I shook my head, not understanding, and getting kind of irritated again. My cock kept pulsing, though, hard and dripping. Sometimes, I wish I could find situations as simple as my cock did. "Yeah, but I thought we were just getting warmed up."

"Go to the showers, Brod," she said, before turning around and looking at her phone. This exchange was over.

So I grabbed my shower kit and towel and went to the showers.

My feet slapped the moist tiles as I walked in, not knowing what to expect. And I couldn't expect this. I jerked back when I saw what was in there, nearly dropping the bag.

When I got inside, I found an audience. A dozen women were standing in the shower, stark naked. All of them were athletically built. Rounded deltoids, sculpted quads, and well-defined abs all around. Rolled-up yoga mats and a bunch of chairs were sitting near the edges of the room. It was all

very

confusing.

"You're late," said a nearby blonde.

"What?"

She didn't answer me, instead rolling one of the yoga mats out on the floor of the shower. The area was dry and the air held the faint tang of recent bleach. I heard footsteps behind me, then Yara's voice.

"We're going to work on upper body strength today, Brod. Bodyweight exercises," she explained. The trainer took my towel and shower satchel and put them on a shelf near the entrance. Then she joined the other girls, as naked as they were. She had a neatly trimmed crescent of pubic hair above a very fleshy mound. "Your hormones are racing now. You responded better than I thought you would to having your face sat on," she said, looking around the room.

The girls were creeping into a circle around me.

It's easy to say you'd be aroused in a situation like that. You could tell me how you'd have taken charge. How you wouldn't have been put off. But you know what? I'm only human, and back then, I wasn't as confident a human. Nor was I as strong as I am now.

I'd had my face sat on, and now I was thrust naked in front of thirteen girls who clearly spent a lot of time sculpting their bodies. Just imagine that, you're morbidly obese and suddenly you're naked in front of thirteen very attractive athletes. You're expected to perform an activity you haven't the slightest idea about, but which they're experts at.

I usually didn't think about my weight, but I was suddenly aware of just how fat I really was—I was twice the mass of any girl there. And as disoriented as I was, having all these athletes forming a circle around me while staring at me was more than a bit disconcerting. My heart was pumping again. I didn't know what was going to happen. This wasn't a scenario where I was in control of the girls the way I was used to. I was out of my depth. Granted, my cock was still rock-hard, but I was becoming aware of the smell in the room, even stronger than the cleaners. Hot sweat. These girls had been working out before I'd showed up. My chest was heaving. Fuck, it smelled good.

Yara squatted and patted the mat. "Lie down."

I lied on the mat.

The blonde bent and grabbed my cock just behind the head before she began to lower her body. Hot flesh kissed my cock's tip. She let out a groan as her engorged lips began to stretch for my size. "Fuck, he's bigger than he looks," she grunted. Her body weight put pressure on my cock that felt wonderful, the sturdy column taking her weight easily. Hell, that was probably the strongest part of my body.

"Yeah,

mmmm.

Yeah!" she panted as gravity stretched her pretty little pussy around my crown. I could see the way the sheer volume of flesh she was trying to fit inside her pushed her lower stomach into a little mound. She began to bounce a little, biting her lower lip and whimpering. I reached forward and rubbed my hands over her firm sides, letting out a gasp. Fuck, this felt good. And

why

the hell was the combined scent of twelve girls' sweat so goddamn invigorating?!

A black girl walked up behind her, wide hips rocking. She flashed me a grin and and shoved down on the blonde's shoulders.

"Oh

FUUUCK!

" she howled as she sank six inches onto my cock, the head bulging out in her belly.

"

Mmmph!

Fuck! Yeah!" I grunted, panting loudly. Precum splashed out around my cock, a lewd squelching coming from our union.

Her hands strangled my shaft in a death grip as she arched her neck back and her belly squeezed.

Sploosh!

Hot juices rolled down my cock and belly as she came. "Wh-why?! Sammy! Guh-god!

Mmmph!

"

"Damn, calm down, Trish, you just came all over him," replied Sammy, a little smirk curling the corner of her full lips. She put her hands on her hips. "I

told

you the dildo wasn't as big as him, Yara."

"We're all getting a workout today," replied the trainer. She stepped over me, looking down with that strange coldness. At this angle, her abs were like a washboard, her breasts and face in shadow.

She turned around and began to squat over me. "I want you to keep my ass off your face for as long as you can, Brod," she instructed.

I reached up and put my hands under her thighs, and grunted as I held her weight up. I felt my chest tightening, my triceps engaging, my fingers digging into her firm muscle. But I could also hear Trish mewling and I could feel her beginning to slowly press herself up and down, each time, her body slipping a little lower.

"Fuck, he's like a horse!" echoed her voice in the ceramic space.

Letting out a guttural grunt, I began pushing harder up against Yara. Her weight was getting heavier and heavier, but ... well, I didn't understand, but I felt like it was easier than it should be. Like she was lighter than she looked.

I felt a bump against the tip of my cock. "He just hit my cervix," announced Trish.

"Do you

always

provide color commentary during sex?" teased one of the other girls.

"I'm gonna try to take this slo-

OOOOH GOD!

" Abruptly, I felt her drop downward, almost ten inches of cock stuffed into her cunt. I heard the lewd splashing, felt the tightening as she came again. "Sammy, you royal fucking

CUNT!

" she howled before another orgasm splattered hotly against my body. "God!

Aaaugh!

"

I moaned in pleasure, a long, steamy breath against Yara's approaching pussy and crack. I let out a strained groan as they approached. What would happen if I just ... let her sit on my face again?

"You're feeling it, aren't you, Brod?" she asked. "That primal need. Not just the sex. The air in here.

Mm.

We're all animals."

The fuck was she talking about? I didn't know. I couldn't think. What I

did

know was that Trish's hands were on my quivering belly, sinking into the soft flesh. She resumed bouncing her poor, stretched-out pussy.

Schlip. Schlip. Schlip.

Our mixed juices rolled down my cock, making it shine. I could feel the stuff pooling under me on the mat. I could see how her fleshy lips had turned bright red and were stretched latex-thin.