Story for The Worm's 2006 "Role of the Dice: December's Story Exhibition;" a SECRETARY in a GYM with SUBLIMINALS. Feel free to contact me at the address in my profile.
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Marcy shook her long hair around her back before she bound it up into a pony-tail. Her hair was always bound up; no matter what she did, it always seemed to be the appropriate course of action. Marcy was a secretary for the president of a major dot com company, which sold, as far as she could tell, something called "synergy." It didn't seem to be anything real, or at least anything tangible. The money certainly was, though, so she never brought it up. How could she, really? This company had given her everything; they'd helped her find an apartment after college and even given her a discount to this gym.
Marcy finished pulling her hair through the loop and checked her shoelaces. Tight, like her sports-bra; she'd found in the last few weeks that she *did* have a bit of an exhibitionist streak. Nothing was wrong with that, of course. Men certainly seemed to appreciate it.
She dropped her sports bag (tastefully embroidered with the company logo) into a locker and stepped onto the main floor of the gym. She put an extra swish into her step as she passed the men's side and put her white, monogrammed towel over one of the treadmills on the women's side.
Yes, there was a separate side for women and men; it was really quite ingenious. Many gyms offered separate times for women and men to work out because so many people got self-conscious in the presence of the opposite sex. This plan was flawed; everyone had to work. There was only one prime work-out time in the evening, and every good fitness-conscious adult wanted a chance to work out every day. So, Metrica Gyms came up with the solution to this knotted problem; there would be a men's side and a women's side, both mirror images of each other. Before the word "segregation" comes to your mind, breathe deeply and let it pass; it's no such thing, Marcy was told by an instructor her first day. Both sides are fully equipped with the latest in work-out gear, TV's, and mats.
Marcy had been a little leery about this system at first, but she had to admit that it had many advantages; she could work out whenever she wanted to and she only had to worry about stares going to and from the locker room; all four walls (including the divider that separated the men's and women's sides) were mirrored. The men could only see the women as they walked the short corridor outside the locker rooms to their separate side of the gym.
Marcy bent one leg back and caught her foot behind her exquisitely rounded bottom. One hand brushed it. Both her hand and her ass tingled. She sighed, held the stretch, and repeated the process with her other leg.
Languidly, she went through a few more leg stretches before pulling her headphones from around her neck and stepping up onto the treadmill. It was a very nice one, a new one as far as she could tell. It had metallic areas on the handles to place her hands and read her heart-rate, it had a padded track to protect her knees, and it had a special jack she could plug her headphones into so that she could hear the TV. Metrica took *such* good care of its customers.
*Let's see,* thought Marcy, *what should I watch first? This really beats work; no taking orders. I watch what I want to watch and only what I want to watch,* but she knew there was really no choice in the matter. She would watch the movie her boss mentioned seeing this weekend; after all, a secretary needed to be able to make small talk while she served the coffee. Luckily, Metrica's internal cable system allowed her to order movies instantaneously; they must have had *every* movie in existence! Metrica was *so* cool.
