Start with Part 1 if you would like to understand Ralph's special phrase and how he received it from a mysterious old man. Otherwise, jump right on in...
After my encounter with Angela I went a full week without using the phrase for nefarious purposes. I still suspected that the old man had programmed into me a level of restraint that I usually didn't possess.
Instead the week was spent using my gift to "better" myself and with practicing its use. I hadn't had a cigarette for five days, without any of the usual withdrawal irritation, and I'd been in the gym daily. I had a better idea of how to use the phrase quickly and efficiently and how to program multiple people at the same time, myself included. I had developed several more "subroutines" for myself but I particularly liked my "Fast Forward" as a way to get through life's boring routines.
I hadn't been masturbating or watching porn either and I was equal parts pleased and bored with myself. All work and no play makes Ralph a dangerous pervert!
Now it was Friday afternoon and I found myself back in the gym in the middle of a fast forward workout. I just called it FF these days...
"Oh, hi Ralph, I didn't think anyone was down here." Said Catherine, walking into the building's empty exercise room.
My well-designed subroutine - if I may say so myself - detected the important interruption and my timeline immediately reverted back to normal speed and my brain flooded with a situational awareness that it had been quietly recording while I sped through another boring workout.
Catherine was a neighbor who had been good friends with my late wife and was a member of the condo's board. I had always liked her and, while we weren't especially close friends, she was always helpful to me and looked out for my interests. Back when my wife was sick and after she passed away Catherine had always been there for me. I was always happy to be extra nice to her to keep in good relations with the board. In an instinctive effort to keep my doorstep free of my own excrement I had never paid very much attention to her as an attractive female. That didn't have to be a problem now with my new powers.
Catherine was a MILF without the all the hassle of the motherhood part, and even better for that. She was at least an inch taller than my five-ten, she had long toned legs and big breasts. Thanks to her exercise regime and our city's expert surgeons she looked at least ten years younger than her fifty years. She had no full time partner in her life as far as I was aware but I knew she'd had a few boyfriends over the years. And here she was in our deserted gym wearing tight yoga pants and a cropped sports bra that barely contained her impressive assets. On a day when Ralph's perversion suppression was wearing off. I wasted no time...
"Hi Catherine, good to see you! You look good..."
As she smiled I spoke - drum roll - The Phrase and continued:
"Catherine we will work out together but you will be distracted by me. Watching me work out will make you will feel increasingly turned on. You'll become noticeably wet. I will end with bench press and, when I explain that I need you to "spot" for me, you'll understand and comply but the position will make you insanely horny. When I finish you'll do whatever springs to mind to relieve yourself in the knowledge that nothing you do will offend me. You won't go too far, however, there is no need to fuck me or to make me cum just then but you will want more and you'll suggest a night out during which you will confess all your deepest secrets and do whatever outrageous things you desire without taking any dangerous risks. Whatever happens will be our little secret and you'll be very happy to make it a regular thing that doesn't cause us any conflicts or cramps our style. Oh, and when I say the number forty-seven you will cum immediately and not notice that I triggered it in any way."
"Ralph," I said to myself, "adjust your workout to put bench press at the end and proceed in FF until she's spotting for you. Go along with anything she wants and then FF to the beginning of your date. Listen to her confessions and come up with something creative to satisfy her. Work out the details of keeping her around for future adventures. Find her extra attractive, get hard at the slightest provocation and find it easy to cum as often as necessary."
There, that should do it! Both of us efficiently programmed for a fun night. Perhaps, I thought randomly, I should program myself to actually hear a drum roll when I spoke the phrase - that would be a fun effect!
One, uh, two, uh, three... time had frozen and restarted from my perspective and here I was on the bench press bench pushing some nice heavy reps with Catherine standing over me "spotting". If you know what this means you can FF the next paragraph.
Bench press with free weights can be a little dangerous. You're lying on your back on a sturdy bench and, optionally, to isolate the exercise to your chest your legs may be off the floor, bent at the hips and knees, almost as if you were sitting on a chair. The heavy weight bar is stored on two strong metal stands attached to a wider metal framework at the head of the bench topped by L-shaped brackets to receive the bar. Your spotter doesn't need to be particularly strong; they are there simply to assist you to extract the bar from the brackets and return it at the end. If you bite off more than you can chew their added strength will help you avoid being stuck with a few hundred pounds of steel across your throat. The spotter position requires your head against or between their thighs which will be much more pleasant with Catherine than the sweaty balls of some gym acquaintance.
I have no idea, and don't care, if I had explained all the spotting details to her during fast forward or if she was already versed in the process. Together we counted off twelve reps before she grabbed the bar and helped me slam it back into the receivers at the end of the first set. I unfolded my legs, returned my feet to the ground and rested:
"Thanks Catherine. Another set of ten and then one of whatever I can manage. Just give me a minute."
"Mmm, take as long as you like!"
I looked up for the first time: what a nice view! The crotch of her thin white yoga pants just above my face and warm thighs against the back of my head. A toned bare tummy above leading to the magnificent swell of her breasts in the short sports bra. Her chest was heaving as if she had done my set and her nipples were doing their best to be obvious through the tight spandex. More importantly I could actually see a dark patch of her wetness through her pants and the scent of her womanly-ness was assaulting my nostrils.
My dick twitched and began to harden. I'd been working out more frequently than my exercise wardrobe warranted and today I had a Virginia Beach T-shirt, trainers with no socks, and a pair of light shorts that were a little shorter and looser than the ones already in my laundry hamper. They were proper workout shorts with a mesh liner so I wasn't wearing underwear beneath them. Their ten year-old elastic, however, was likely not up to the task of controlling my phrase-enhanced boner.
"This is fun to watch!" She said and I wasn't sure if she meant my bench press efforts or my splayed position and hardening cock so I just grinned up at her and drank in the view for a moment while I caught my breath.
I brought up my knees and gripped the bar. Catherine helped me lift it into position and I began the second set. When I was done I saw that she was looking quite agitated and the dark spot on her pants had grown in size. My cock was quite hard now and threatening to poke out of the leg of my shorts. She released the bar and subtly ran her hands over her hips and up her body till she was almost massaging her breasts. Neither of us spoke while I rested but when I stared up her body our eyes met and some silent signal passed between us.
"Okay, last set, let me try for ten again." And I reached for the bar.
This time Catherine seemed less help than before. My cock was uncomfortably hard with my knees in the air and half way through, not expecting her to be a form critic, I simply put my legs down and my feet back on the floor. This helped the discomfort as well as the remaining reps but I had to arch my back to squeeze out the last few reps and I could feel my cock straining against my shorts:
"Eight, uh, nine, agggh, te-eh-eh-n!"
Her hands went to the bar but she didn't seem to be lifting at all. I arched and strained, slammed the bar back into the rests, and my cock head burst out of my pant leg.
I hadn't been back in the gym very long and, genuinely tired out, I lay back on the bench. I didn't have the strength or inclination to adjust my inadvertent exposure.
"Oh, fuck, Ralph, that's hot", she said, "I can see your cock!"
