I think about her all week.
Okay, fine. I masturbate about her all week.
I relive every moment, especially when she called me a 'good butch' in that growl and I moaned 'yes, Sir' and she whispered in a hoarse, deep, threatening voice: 'you're going to be quiet' before getting to her knees between my legs.
When the next week rolls around, I'm jumping out of my driver's seat I'm so excited. She said to come at closing on Tuesday night, which is midnight, and I thank the universe that I work the late shift tomorrow. I pull into the gym and park, checking the glowing clock on my dashboard -- 11:51pm. I grab my duffel and change into my workout gear in the locker room: a tight sports bra that compresses my chest, loose shorts that hide my hips, and a muscle tank that shows off my biceps.
The gym is close to empty, and I spot the silver fox right away. We lock eyes, and my throat closes. She nods at me and straddles the weightlifting bench, and I take my cue and walk over to spot her.
"Hey, kid."
"Hi, Sir," I reply, in a quiet tone that the couple of bros still left in the gym won't hear.
I watch her form as she benches 200 with practiced ease. Her muscles are solid, like she could pick me up and toss me around like a sack of feathers. I try not to spend too long imagining her doing this. I'm already turned on enough.
I count her reps, and she does eleven before grunting and reracking. The grunt sends a shiver through me, which I ignore -- I totally, completely ignore it. She sits up and catches her breath, and I take the moment to admire her triceps, her strong back muscles, her fresh cropped haircut. I'm down bad.
She stands and offers to spot me too. I shrug and put down my water bottle, settling onto the bench and feeling her eyes burning into my skin like the hot sun on a summer day. She's adjusting the weights on the barbell for me, down to 120, and a little part of me flutters because she remembered.
"Thank you... Sir," I say, my voice coming out sultry when I was aiming for politeness.
"Oh, you're welcome, boytoy," she says with a wink.
My heart tries to jump out of my throat and I swallow it down. I lie back on the bench, feeling my heartbeat pulse through every inch of my body. I reach for the cold metal bar and make eye contact with Sir and a smile tugs at the edge of my lips before I can stop it. She meets my smirk with her own.
I break eye contact and concentrate on a spot on the ceiling, focus on my breathing, do rep after rep, slow and steady, in and out. I remember Sir's mouth and fingers: slow and steady tongue, fingers in and out of me. Arousal wakes up my muscles with heat and I push through ten reps with perfect form, reracking without Sir's help, unlike last time.
"Good boy," she whispers to me.
I clench my jaw. She's evil.
I sit up, check the clock, and realize it's a few minutes past midnight now. I glance around the gym and don't spot the bros hanging around anymore.
Sir quirks her eyebrow at me.
"We're alone, kid."
"...Oh."
"So? What do you say when your Sir tells you 'good boy'?" she says in a loud and clear voice, authoritative... dominant. Her heavy gaze is predatory, wolfish. My skin warms under her scrutiny.
"Thank you, Sir."
She smirks and tilts her head, crossing her arms. "I've had some, uh," she clears her throat, "ideas since last week."
"Oh?"
She leans in and whispers to me. I swallow, mouth dry, and nod. Hot desire grips me by the throat. I can feel how wet I am already, my cunt throbbing at her suggestive ideas.
"I'd like that," I manage to say, gulping. Fuck.
"Good," she says with a smile. "Let's get to work."
"Yes, Sir." My reply is fast, eager.
She nods to me and walks away, unzipping her duffel bag in the corner and coming back holding toys: a black dildo, lube, and a purple clit vibrator.
"Alright, boy... Do you want to work on shoulders or legs first?" she asks.
I contemplate, glancing at the toys in her hands, and answer in a clear voice: "Legs. Sir."
"Good choice, boy. Come with me."
Sir leads me to the adductor machine, holding the purple vibe and her phone, and she motions for me to sit down. The overhead fluorescent lights flicker, and I catch my reflection in the large mirror across from us when I sit in the machine's leather seat, thighs spread apart. My eyes are wide and my cheeks are flushed, my mouth open. Do I always look this flustered?
"Oh, prettyboy... You're so handsome like this. Blushing with your thighs spread."
I blush even harder at that, feeling my face grow hot and my pulse throb in the warm tips of my ears.
"Thank you, Sir..." I answer shyly, eyeing the vibrator in her hand. She catches my gaze and grins.
"Are you wondering what I have in store for you, prettyboy?" she asks, dangling the purple clit toy on her finger. I nod. "Just some workouts, handsome. I want to make you sweat."
I gulp.
"And I want to hear you say, 'Thank you, Sir,' when we're done."
"Yes, Sir."
"But first..." she growls in a deep voice, tapping on her phone. The toy buzzes to life in her hand. I twitch in anticipation. She leans in and whispers in my ear: " I'm going to make you wet."
I'm already wet, I think, feeling desperate and slutty. What comes out of my mouth is a whimper, and then a small, " Please."
"Good fuckin' boy," Sir praises, taking the tip of the toy and trailing it up my trembling thighs.
I gasp and try to hold still, failing, as the toy inches closer and closer to my aching, hard clit. When she finally rubs it against me, through the layers of my underwear and basketball shorts, I whine and my hips twitch.
"Oh, prettyboy," she says reverently. "God, you're so desperate for it." She presses the vibe harder into me and I gasp and grind my hips into it. "God, you filthy little toy. You like it? I want you to take it while you do three sets of 10 for me, babe."
( Babe makes my brain go fuzzy, but I focus quickly.)
"Yes, Sir."
"Good toy. May I?" she asks, nodding to my shorts.
I agree and let her slip the buzzing toy inside my boxer briefs, feeling it slide inside me easily and press firmly against my clit. I buck my hips while she greedily grinds it into me, eager for my pleasure.
"You're being such a good boy for me."
I make a helpless noise and my hands grip the handles of the adductor machine. My thighs squeeze together involuntarily, coming up against the resistance of the weights on the machine.
"Eager to get started, huh?" she says with a smirk. She pulls her hand away and steps back, grin widening across her face, and instructs me: "Ten reps. Count them and thank. Your. Sir. "
"Yes, Sir," I answer, aiming for a clear voice but landing on a whimper.
Squeezing my thighs together, they tremble from the strain of the weights and the sensation of the toy. My knees touch and I spread my legs apart, gasping, "One. Thank you, Sir."
She winks at me and presses her phone screen, increasing the vibe's intensity by a degree.
"Oh my God." My hands flex and grip the handles again as I focus on my second rep. "Two. Thank you, Sir."
"Good boy, hottie."
She increases the intensity of the vibe by a degree each time, until I'm panting through my reps.
"Ten! Thank you, Sir!" I gasp, trying to control my volume in the large, open gym.
She turns the vibe off. I'm half frustrated and half grateful for it. I was getting close and part of me wanted to chase the feeling, and the other part of me wants to wait. I want her to edge and torture me through a workout. Use and abuse my body until I'm aching and begging for release.
She tells me to breathe and start again for her when I'm ready.
I do another ten reps for her, my legs wobbling through the vibration pattern she draws for me on her phone screen. This time it's a sine wave, up and down, from low to medium to low, peaking to medium as I squeeze my legs together and falling to low vibration as I spread them apart.
"Good boy," she praises after I call out my tenth rep again. The vibrations turn off. "Take a breath. Drink some water," she instructs, handing me my water bottle with the 'Butch' sticker in pink Barbie font. The ice clinks in the bottle and cold water rushes down my hot throat. I swallow.
"Thank you, Sir," I pant, handing her the water bottle back.
Sir takes it from me and sets it down, waiting for me to start when I'm ready.
The third round, the vibration pattern she chooses is more intense: the toy is off when my legs are spread and at max vibration when they're squeezing the weights together, a plateau and then a steep drop to nothing. I'm crying out my counts, going as slow as my muscles can take it.
"Oh fuck -- I'm close --" I cry as I announce my ninth rep, growing closer as the vibe maxes out.
"Then you'd better keep going if you want to cum, prettyboy. You only get this vibe when you work hard and earn it."
"Oh, God! Ten. Thank you, Sir. Thank you, thank you, thank you -- " I gasp as I hold my tenth rep for as long as my aching, trembling thighs can take the powerful vibrations. The sparks of pleasure explode into fireworks behind my eyes, between my burning legs. I cry out, "Ohhh!" and Sir generously gives me stimulation for as long as I can hold the rep, as long as I'm cumming. When I hit muscle failure and the pulses of pleasure start to abate in my clit, I shakily spread and relax my legs. Sir lets the vibrations drop down to nothing.
"Jesus fucking Christ, boytoy," she curses. She clicks her phone screen off and slips it into her pocket, approaching me and gripping my burning, aching thighs, my cunt swollen and throbbing between them. She leans into my face. "Did you like that?" she whispers, forehead leaning against mine, her lips nearly brushing against my panting mouth.
"Yes, Sir," I whisper, breathless. "Thank you, Sir. God, I'm so wet now. Fuck."
"Well, you just came in your gym shorts for a big, burly butch dyke, so," she says with a laugh, making me blush hard. "Guess that means you can take my fingers real easy now too, huh?" she asks nonchalantly.
I feel my cunt clench instantly. "Oh God."
"Well, prettyboy? I'm only gonna fingerfuck you with an invitation, so I guess you'd better beg for it," she says, gripping my chin with one hand and my still-burning thigh with another.
"Please" drops from my mouth so easily, like a toy from the mouth of an obedient dog.
"Please what?" she challenges, looking at my mouth hungrily as she grips my chin.
"Please kiss me. And finger me. Sir."
She seems pleased with this, guiding my mouth to hers and licking my lips with her tongue before meeting her mouth to mine in a hard kiss. She pulls the toy out of me and makes me lick it clean before she slips it back in her duffel bag. The taste, the degradation, the way she ordered me to do it, the setting of the public gym, with its definitely public cameras (shut off after midnight by Sir's friend who works here? I don't know) makes me feel like my skin is glowing with hot embers.
She stands over me again, my legs spread in the adductor machine, and she squeezes my sore thighs.
"You want my fingers inside you, prettyboy?"
I whimper, "Yes, Sir."
"God, you're so wet," she whispers in my ear as she slips two thick fingers inside me with ease. I want so badly to squeeze my legs together but between the weights and my muscle fatigue, it's impossible. I might as well be strapped into a spreader bar in her bed right now. I start to imagine being in her bed, going home with her, when her deep, husky voice in my ear distracts me from my reverie.
"God, your slutty butch pussy feels so good around my fingers, boytoy."
I tighten around her and can't contain my moan, gripping the handles of the machine, wishing that my hands were buried in her salt and pepper hair.
