This novella deals with themes of reluctant participation in a lesbian setting. If you think you might find such material offensive please try another story.
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Chapter 1
As the plane banked over the Jutland peninsular and made its final descent into Aarhus Tirstrupt airport I felt the first pangs of trepidation. My parents fully supported my determination to place myself in the hands of Agnetha Madsen but they were unaware that it was a decision based as much on the current complications with my love life as it was on my desire to become a world champion.
I walked through into the arrivals lounge and immediately recognized Larina but she did not return my smile. She helped me with my bags and left it to me to make the best of a rather one-sided conversation as she drove the short distance out to the training facility.
She showed me to the room that was to be my home for the next twelve months and then left me alone. It was a little spartan but it offered a lovely view out over the frost tinged lawn to the lake.
I turned away from the window and caught my reflection in the mirrored wardrobe door. Somehow the image did not seem like the real me and in some ways it had not been for the past two years. I had secured sponsorships from a cosmetics company and a major fashion chain and now it was incumbent upon me to look the part.
To some degree this is what attracted had me to Agnetha. The girls she was training, Larina included, somehow managed to maintain their femininity whilst still producing medal winning performances; for the first time in years the female robots coming off of the Far Eastern production lines had some real competition.
After I had unpacked I took a deep breath, and set off for my first meeting with the woman who would determine whether or not I would achieve my life's ambition.
My room was one of four on the third floor and as I passed my neighbour's door
I was brought up short. At first I thought that someone was in pain but, as I instinctively stopped and strained my ears, I realized my mistake.
"Oh fuck!...Yes!...Don't stop!"
I smiled to myself thinking that someone was breaking one of Agnetha's cardinal rules. Her regime was strict and I had been sent a list of infractions any one of which would lead to my expulsion from the facility. Top of that list was a total ban on male visitors in the accommodation block.
I knew that I should have passed on by but there was no one else around and so I stepped closer to the door and cocked my ear.
"Oh God!....That's it!....Now!....I'm coming!"
Each imprecation was louder than the last and it was clear that the girl did not care who heard her slow rise to ecstasy. As she let out a final piercing shriek I found myself feeling decidedly jealous.
I had not had sex for nearly six weeks and even that had been a furtively snatched bout before John's wife came to collect him from the gym. Having an affair with my trainer had been a distinctly bad idea and the more so as I became increasingly convinced that he was lying when he said that he loved me.
I ran my hand firmly over the front of my abbreviated skirt, to try and quell the increasing tingling in my crotch, and then I pulled myself together. I skipped downstairs and less than two minutes later I was standing nervously outside Agnetha's office.
I knocked and entered and Agnetha rose to greet me. The office itself was large, light and airy. The furniture was all bleached pine and the rear wall was a single huge glass panel beyond which the wooden flooring extended to form a patio deck. Against this background my new trainer was a dark presence.
During her playing days she had always kept her hair cropped but she had now grown it out into a heavy black bob which softened her features. She had used a dark eyeliner to emphasis her deep blue eyes and her full lips were enriched with a lustrous red lip gloss. It was hard to believe that this beautiful woman was the same player that the press had christened "The Viking".
She was wearing a black tracksuit, which sat a little incongruously with her impeccable make-up, but it was obvious that she still kept herself in great shape. She topped me by two or three inches but she somehow seemed taller still and, had I not known that she was twice my age, I would have thought her years younger.
She smiled warmly, asked me about my flight, and then she got down to cases.
"You've heard the rumours, you've seen my stipulations, if you are not prepared to play by my rules you can leave whenever you like. That said, you have a paid a years fees in advance and that is non refundable."
She was talking a lot of money. Her fees were more than double what I was paying in the UK on top of which I was having to fund my living costs including accommodation at the centre. She was also looking for a larger percentage of any prize winnings but if her record with other girls was anything to go by I could look forward to more success.
"Whilst you are here you will learn about physiology and sports psychology as well as fitness training and tactics. For your first two weeks you will not touch a racket."
She must have seen the look of surprise on my face as she said this because she leaned forward to emphasis her next point.
"Look, it's your choice, you can either be another Kournikova or you can be a gold medalist. What is it to be?"
The jibe was double-edged. I hated being compared to a tennis player and particularly Kournikova. The press had made much of my resemblance to the young Russian and the danger that, like her, I could fail to achieve but still make a living from endorsements. I had already been offered a small part in an independent British film and my natural vanity had almost led me to accept.
The next morning I reported to the treatment room where I was introduced to Tamiko, a young Japanese woman, who acted as the centre's physiotherapist. For nearly two hours she talked me through the nature of muscle groups and particularly those governing the wrists and legs. I was having trouble taking it all in and was still confusing the flexor carpi redialis and flexor carpi ulnaris when she told me to strip off and lie down on the massage table.
I lay face down, with only a small towel to protect my modesty, as she illustrated the remainder of her lecture with the movements of her hands. I have had many massages, usually as a prelude to a big game, but I had never experienced anything quite like Tamiko's touch. She talked me through what she was doing but I was afloat in a world of my own. She was running her fingers just over the surface of my skin so that the tiny, almost invisible hairs, erected under a static charge and then she stroked more firmly coaxing each muscle group in turn.
It was so relaxing and I felt like a cat stretching out its spine. As she worked over my shoulders and her fingertips brushed the edges of my breasts I began to think of John and I squirmed slightly to alleviate a growing itch between my legs. She cautioned me to keep still but now I just wanted it to be over so that I could get back to my room and bring myself some much needed relief.
She continued for another quarter of an hour and I was growing ever more frustrated. I had never entertained the notion of making love to another woman but with a guilty inward smile I wondered what Tamiko would be capable of. Immediately dismissing this unworthy thought I tried to concentrate on what she was saying.
Our session was brought to a close by the return of the girls from their on court training and I dressed quickly in the hope of slipping away but Tamiko had other ideas.
Larina came through from the changing rooms looking decidedly hot and with no hint of embarrassment she stripped out of her sweat soaked sports kit. I just had time to notice that she was a natural blonde before she lay down on the table that I had so recently vacated.
Tamiko beckoned me to her as she began to work at Larina's muscles heedless of the perspiration that sheened her skin. She had her eyes closed but I could see, from the expression on her face, that she was enjoying the magic feel of the Japanese woman's fingertips.
I was still appraising Larina's lean, tanned, body when I realized that I was being asked to help. I placed my hands tentatively on the back of her left calf and tried to emulate what Tamiko was doing to the right leg. I was immediately aware of the smoothness of her skin and the curvature of her muscles. She had superb tone but it was so very different from the hardness of a male physique.
I found my hands moving a little higher and Tamiko remonstrated with me but I am certain that Larina gave a tiny sigh. I suddenly felt a little annoyed that she should be enjoying it quite so much, as if I were some sort or body slave, but I had to remind myself that I had been in a similar position just a few moments earlier. I resumed my ministrations carefully following Tamiko's instructions.
She had spoken to me about "muscle flutter" the moment when a tensed muscle is coaxed to relax under the fingertips and resonates very slightly. My own clumsy fingers could not perceive this subtle change and Tamiko was showing signs of exasperation.
Her hands were now working the hams in the back of Larina's thigh and she encouraged me to follow suite. I was feeling uncomfortable, not least because of Larina's nakedness, and the fact that Tamiko's fingers were edging closer to the crease of her buttocks.
She was still asking me if I could feel the transition and I was tempted to lie but then a frown of anger creased her face.
"Do this."
I watched incredulously as she leant forward and placed the tip of her tongue high up on the back of Larina's thigh.
