The next day.
Dean's butt and thighs burned with each step he took. Another drop of sweat fell from his nose and landed on his pad. He wiped the screen with his towel without taking his arm off the handles of the stair climber. He was using the pad to study for his semester finals and to distract himself from the leering femme in the gym. This thought reminded him of the humiliating fact that the word 'supine' was now printed across his ass.
He had to loan out another pair from the gym because he lost one pair, along with his backpack, the night before. The other pair was supposed to be in his pile of dirty clothes but apparently he misplaced them.
Of the remaining bottoms that were available, this new pair was the least demeaning. He took another sip of his water only to find it was empty.
Another loud grunt and thunderous crash came from behind him; he was beginning to get used to the sound of Rita going about her lifting routine. He knew that she was directly behind him but didn't dare look. Motion in the mirror took his attention, the hulking lady puffed as she moved along side him to the right of his machine. Her brown forehead shone with sweat. She was in her fifties, her hair had been died grey and was tied up in a practical ponytail. A black Gi obscured her body and made her frame only more intimidating, such clothing was standard for ladies in the gym.
"You must be new here. My name's Rita," she offered a sweaty palm which he reluctantly accepted.
Her grip was firm, as if she could crush his hand if she wanted. That did little to put him at ease.
"Dean," he timed the reply with his laboured exhalation. He had to look up to make brief eye contact despite standing on the stair climber. She seemed about 7 feet tall.
She quickly looked him up and down.
"You should stay on your toes. It's better for calves," she suggested. "It also takes some of the load off your thighs. And lean forward some more."
Dean gave it a go, he felt the burn in his calves. She was right, it did help his thighs.
"There we go. Better?"
Dean nodded while looking straight ahead, doing his best not to encourage the interaction. He looked away and caught his reflection in the mirror to his left. His hips had rolled farther forward, his back was very arched and his round athletic butt was sticking out much more. He looked like a young slut who was desperate for feminine attention but he was too exhausted to care.
Two quick beeps signified the end of his workout and he began to relax.
"Let me fix your water," she took his bottle from its slot and walked over to the water chiller. "You really should make sure this stays full."
Dean was too exhausted to protest. Sucking in air with his hands on his knees, he felt weak. Rita stood over the water chiller and made it completely disappear behind her frame.
"Here," she threw him the bottle. "You should do some yoga too, it will help you avoid injury. Flexibility is critical."
Dean didn't realise how thirsty he was until he brought it to his lips. He didn't want her help but his body gratefully accepted the water.
"Yep. You should finish that entire bottle before you hit the showers."
It was a small bottle so Dean had almost finished it before she had finished speaking.
He caught her peaking at his genital bulge when she thought he wasn't looking. Another reminder of his shamefully wanton presentation. He reminded himself that he had no real choice in the matter but somehow that didn't make him feel any better.
"So what are you studying for?" she gestured towards his pad.
"College. Social studies," he gave the most boring reply he could.
"Impressive. I'm sure that your mother would be proud."
Dean blinked and finished off the bottle of water. He couldn't hide the fresh pain that he felt when ever he thought about his mother.
"Yea, sure."
He had betrayed her; hurt her deeply. She turned her back on him, but in truth, he was more angry at himself. He had turned into a slut. Just another young male, ready to sleep with any femme who has a bit of power and wealth. The type who would let a lady of influence turn him into her buck. His mom didn't deserve that. Worst of all, he felt like his life story was written on his face.
"Finals coming soon?"
Dean nodded.
"Hey! Do you need a job over the summer?" she raised her eyebrows.
"Sure! I really need cash for next semester's tuition."
"Oh, sweetie, I've got a job for you that will pay off all of your loans!"
Dean's eyes went wide for split second, "Really?"
"It's an acting job. I know that you will be perfect for the role," she looked him up and down pointedly.
Dean had a surprised look on his face.
"Its not easy. It requires special talent. But I can tell that you're a natural. You could be a real international star."
Dean had often dreamt of being an actor but his mother didn't encourage it. She insisted that male actors were all whores who only got roles by sleeping around. But she probably thought that he was a whore by now anyway.
"So is it an add? Or a show?"
His apparent interest brought a smile to her face.
"Yeah, a show. Its for an up-and-coming indie production company."
"Here's my card," she passed him a black piece of cardboard with gold embossing.
It read, 'Rita Gynohold. SS Executive of Talent Development'.
He found the card impressive, and wondered if his big break had finally arrived.
"We are casting a new role next week. It pays forty thousand credits for just 2 weeks of filming. I'm one of the casting agents, and I already think that you are perfect for the role."
Dean listened as he stared at the card, failing to suppress his excitement.
