Amethyst at the Gym

The Dark Side Of Superheroine Peril Discussion - 18 and older.
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joejanus
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Personal Trainer by AMDrake
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No superheroics in this story, just Amethyst in her secret identity. We all have them you know.
The image is from AMDrake on DeviantArt https://www.deviantart.com/amdrake/gallery. Her continued obsession with gorgeous, ticklish redheads who work out, teased me into writing this. 

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Personal Trainer by AMDrake
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Amy woke up as usual, 45 seconds before the alarm. The alarm was a force of habit, a safety net just in case she had overindulged the night before. She sat up and let the sheets fall, exposing her naked breasts to the cold, instantly hardening her nipples. Turn up the heat first, she told herself, then coffee. Scratch the coffee, she scolded herself. That's a reward for after my morning workout.

No sense taking a shower until after her workout. She got herself bundled up against the cold, grabbed her bag and headed for the gym that was just down the street. That was one reason she'd chosen this apartment. Keeping herself in shape was an obsession, no, a matter of discipline, for her, like always waking up before the alarm clock. She had cut back on the martial arts, but kept up with cardio and weight training at least 3 days a week, usually 6 to keep fit even if she had curtailed her adventures as Crimson Doom, the scourge of thugs and petty crooks throughout the city.

She was shocked to see the “Closed until further notice” sign on her gym. What the frack? Two doors down however there was a big Grand Opening banner on a new gym. They were advertising first month free and a special bonus deluxe workout package for the first 100 customers to sign up. Well crap, why not?

Boxer's Gym was the name under the big picture of a hunk in bright red boxer shorts, and it had that pleasant, new place smell as she plunked her gym bag at her feet in front of the receptionist desk.

“Where do I sign up?”

“Right here!” the man at the desk replied with a bright smile. He was handsome, with closely cropped, jet black hair and bright blue eyes. “In fact, you're one of our first 100 customers, so you're qualified for our special deluxe bonus workout package.”

She was about to ask what that included but could see he was ready to launch into a big spiel, so instead she stopped him with, “Sure, sign me up.” What the hell, surprise me. I could use some special treatment.

“You'll love it!” he enthused, “Just put your name and address down here, sign at the bottom, and let me see your credit card. There's no charge for today of course, but we need a credit card on file, like every gym.”

“Welcome to the Boxer's Gym family, Amethyst!” he exclaimed, looking at her flaming red hair, cut short to curl around her face and rest on top of her shoulders.

“It's just Amy. My mother is color dyslexic,” she added touching her hair. “She still swears that she thought amethysts were red.”

“Still a pretty name for a pretty girl,” he replied. “I'm Sam.”

She tried to keep her smile internal only. It had been more years than she liked to admit since she'd been a girl, and she would give a killing stare to any of the doctors at the hospital where she worked who called her that, but secretly she was tickled by this handsome man who was probably a good 10 years younger than her, calling her a pretty girl.

“Let me show you where to get started.” She got her first glimpse of the weight room as he led her past it. There were only 5 people working out. All were men, at least at this hour, she noted, and all were young and ripped, no pot-bellied 50 year-olds trying desperately to regain their youth.

“Here's Fritz, your masseur. Fritz, this is Amy, she's signed up for the special bonus package.”

“Good choice Amy,” said Fritz. Amy had to curl her lips together top keep from laughing. He sounded just like Arnold Schwarzenegger. In fact his build reminded her of Arnold in his youth. Definitely over-muscled, a little intimidating.

“There's towels in the changing room,” said Sam, turning to leave.

“Wait, we're doing a massage before the workout? Isn't that backwards.”

“Does seem that way, doesn't it, but the latest research says it's more effective that way. The bonus workout is challenging, and you'll want your muscles to be relaxed and limber. You look like your someone who likes a challenge.”

How is it that Sam seems to know all the right things to say to push my buttons?

It wasn't until she came out of the changing room that she noticed the massage table was different. Instead of just a hole for her face, there were two lower holes—for her breasts?

Noticing her surprise, Fritz said, “I know it's a little different, but we've found that most women are more relaxed without having their boobies squished.”

Hearing the word “boobies” come out of that huge hulk of a man with that Ahhnold accent made her chuckle out loud as she laid down, spreading her towel over her back and inserting her naked “boobies” into the holes in the table. It was a unique feeling. Even though she could see there was no one under the table, she couldn't suppress a fleeting fantasy of someone grabbing her tits from below and holding her pressed into the table by them while she lay there naked except for a towel.

Fritz actually had wonderful hands, and she could feel her neck muscles and then her shoulders and back relaxing as he slid the towel down to her hips to get access there. The “boob” holes actually helped her relax as his hands massaged her sides. There was no worry about anyone copping a feel of her breasts.

She was so relaxed, she even giggled as he playfully slapped her butt on his way down to work on her thighs and then her calves. He spent some time pressing his strong fingers up and down the arch of her foot while his other hand held the top of her foot firmly and then he set to massaging her toes. Damn, I've never had a foot rub this good in my life, she thought.

After he finished with her other foot, she was in such a blissfully relaxed state, that she didn't notice that he had crooked an elbow around both ankles, lifting them up for his next move until….

OMG! “What? Nooo!” She began to twist and writhe with uncontrollable fits of laughter. Is that a frickin' feather. No, just no. Make it stop. Help! Her body shook all over at the unexpected assault. She tried to lift herself off the table but only got far enough to see that it was indeed a feather he was stroking her arches with, somehow using the hand of the arm that had trapped her ankles and exposed the bottoms of her feet. A massive forearm came down on her back pinning her back onto the table.

“Stop it! Why are you doing this? No, please no!” was all she could get out between spasms of laughter that she couldn't control.

“It's part of the massage. After this, you'll be ready for anything,” came the booming voice in that comical accent. Her brain wasn't working. She had to get away any way she could. Finally, he released her ankles and they flopped down in relief, but then the feather was running along her back from her butt cheeks all the way up to where his giant arm had her pinned. Amidst helpless peals and shivers of laughter, she kicked her legs in the air wildly, finding nothing to connect with.

Finally the feather assault on her back stopped. Before she had any chance to recover she felt him draw the feather slowly across her nipples as her breasts dangled under the table. She tried to jerk away, but his other arm was still holding her down. That was almost as arousing as it was tickling, but he gave her no chance to think about it as the feather was now sliding across the undersides of her breasts over and over again. Amy was whimpering, laughing, and panting like a dog after a long run by the time she realized he had stopped. Was it really over?

For a long time nothing happened as she slowly regained control of her breathing.

“Feeling better?” Fritz' voice asked. She tried to yank her body upright to slap him, but his forearm was still pinning her to the massage table.

“Stop and just feel yourself. It's been a long time since your body felt this good, hasn't it?”

This was infuriating! But she was completely helpless against this brute. He was much too strong for her. Finally, she started to relax, and realized he actually had a point. She didn't feel tense, but every fiber of her body felt alive as if she were as lithe as a panther, ready to strike.

“What...did you…?”

“First, you relax all the muscles, then you stimulate the nerves, and your body feels as good as a newborn ready to grab a teat.”

Said in the body builder's silly-sounding accent, that image was too much for her, and she had to laugh. He eased the pressure on her, allowing her to slowly get up. As she sat up, for a moment, she forgot she was naked, then she quickly covered herself with the towel, trying to hide her blush. Frack, he was actually right. Should she be mad at him?

“I think you're ready for your workout now,” Fritz said, “Why don't you get into your workout clothes, and I'll show you the way.”

###

Now dressed in her charcoal gray sports bra with red trim to match her fiery hotpants bottom and crimson hair, she emerged from the dressing room to Fritz' appreciative smile. All her muscles felt alive and ready to pounce on whatever task she decided to put them to as Fritz showed her to the weight room. She got a better chance to look at the 4 guys, one wearing a tank top and the others bare-chested. They were all gorgeously ripped with 6-pack abs.

“Hello boys,” Fritz announced, “This is Amy. She's one of our special bonus deluxe workout package customers.”

There was a cascade of different greetings that collided with each other, but “Hellllo Amy!” accompanied by a huge grin on the man with the broad hairy chest, bald head, and neatly trimmed beard somehow stood out. Amy gave him an admiring look and winked.

“I'll let you boys show her the special machine for the next stage of her workout.”

They were all so solicitous, she felt like a princess as they led to her what looked like a standard multi-station weight machine that was set up on a slightly raised platform for some reason. Two guys had their hands just lightly touching her shoulders as they guided her while one hustled ahead to the machine, the last guy, presumably behind her. There was a sign reading “Special Bonus Workout Users Only”.

It felt good to have all these hunks paying attention only to her. She took pride in her looks, but she was hardly a teenager any more. It gave her tingles all over, or was that Fritz' massage affecting her? They started peppering her with so many questions that she barely paid attention as they seated her at the pull-down bar.

“How much weight?” the one on the other side of the machine asked.

“80 pounds,” she replied automatically to his impressed wink.

“Isn't Fritz amazing?”

“Doesn't it make you feel like you could take on anything?”

Had the guys gotten the same massage/tickle treatment from Fritz?

She normally would have started on the legs station, but went ahead and put her hands up and onto the rubberized grips of the pull-down handlebars. She was surprised to see a sign like a leaderboard listing the weight and number of reps. Diana was the top name with 80 reps at 80 pounds. Could she possibly beat that? she wondered. Her best ever was 50 reps when she really decided to push herself once.

Someone was bending her knees so that her ankles were pulled back and then strapped to a bar of the machine beneath her, leaving her feet behind her, a foot off the floor. She opened her mouth to ask about that, but ended up gasping as one guy on either side pulled leather belts tight around her wrists, securing her to the pull-down handle-bar.

“What? What is this? What the crap are you doing?”

“All part of the bonus workout,” Beard-guy explained. “Fritz is only part of what makes the workout unique. He gets your body ready to do its best, but, as you know, there's a huge mental part to a great workout. The restraints put you in the proper mindset to push yourself as never before. Just tell yourself you can't be released until you better your career best by a wide margin.”

“That...that's…,” she stuttered in confusion, but the seemingly practiced choreography of these 4 wasn't over yet. Two of them were unwinding thin short chains from near the center of the handle-bar. OMG, there were silicone tipped pincers at the end of those silvery chains!

“Wait, what the hell do you think you're going to do?”

“Just more incentive,” said Beard-guy as she felt his hairy chest pressed against her back as he pulled her top up, exposing her breasts. The other two wasted no time clamping her nipples that had been hard ever since Fritz had finished his massage.

“Owww! That frickin' hurts! What the hell?” The pincers of the clips were bad enough, but the chains were so short that her breasts were pulled up painfully by the clamps.

“You can fix that,” said Beard-guy.

Understanding dawned on her, and she pulled down on the handle-bars, lifting the weights and creating slack in the chains.

“One!” they all said in unison acting as a cheering section. She let the bars glide back up and the weights settle back with a loud clank, gritting her teeth as her breasts were stretched again.

“How is this supposed to motivate me?”

“No pain, no gain, right?”

One of the guys pulled her shorts down onto her thighs, exposing her sex and slid something snugly against her twitching nethers, fixing it into position with a thumb screw.

“Go, go, go,” the guys started chanting as the pain in her breasts was becoming too much again.

She closed her eyes and pulled the bar down again. Only this time, as it relieved the stress on her breasts, a dildo pushed into her.

“Two!” they all shouted, almost drowning out her surprised scream. In shock, she let the weights snap the handle-bar all the way back up.

“Ahhh, fuck!” she exclaimed as the dildo withdrew and the sudden yank on her breasts made them bounce and dance as wildly as the fiendish clamps on her nipples would let them. She threw her head back into Beard-guy's chest as the pain seemed almost unbearable. She quickly pulled the bar back down, easing the pain on her breasts and forcing the dildo once more into her.

“Three!”

She held the bar there, straining her arms, but allowing her breasts to recover. While she tried to steady herself, she felt a hand on each ass cheek, massaging them. That was pressing the dildo against her interior folds in a most insidious way. She eased the bar back up slowly this time to draw out both the dildo and the increasing pain in her nipples.

###

“Twenty!”

Her muscles were starting to really feel the strain now, and her gasps were being followed by moans as she was starting to become uncontrollably aroused by fucking herself in front an audience of cheering hard-bodied strangers. She could smell the scent and even the hard arousal of Beard-guy behind her. Crap, she could even smell her own arousal as her pussy had started to long for each new thrust. She could feel the sweat trickling down along her tortured breasts and sides.

“Twenty-one!”

Instead of glaring, she now had a hungry look that matched the ones on the hunks watching her.

“Twenty-two!”

She had to concentrate now in effort, and found Beard-guy's hands on both her sides, gently massaging her, comforting her straining muscles. She found herself wanting to cum now, wanting to cum really badly. She could feel her smooth back against Beard-guy's sexy, hairy chest. Bear-man, she began to think of him now. Throw me down and take me Bear-man. She quickly pumped 3 times, squeezing against the dildo that impaled her with each pull and now actually reveling in the tug at her breast, imagining it was a beast man doing it to her.

“Twenty-three! Twenty-four! Twenty-five!” They were actually stomping rhythmically on the floor now with each thrust.

Ignoring the stress and the pain, she pumped faster and harder. Fuck me! Fuck me! Rape me, Bastard! Just make me cum. Please make me cum!

At thirty, she screamed with the orgasm that finally came. But she didn't stop. Even as her juices gushed out of her, she kept up her tempo. She was in some kind of trance now, actually enjoying the increasing strain on her muscles. At forty-five, the adrenalin was starting to wear off, and slowed. Could she really keep going?

“Forty-six!”

SWACK!

“Aaaagh!” She was getting spanked now as well as cheered. Each spank coincided with the deepest thrust of the dildo, and the cheers were getting more enthusiastic. The combined pain and extra push inside her was turning her even more into an automaton caught between pain and arousal. At fifty, someone started rubbing her clit, and she was shaking her head like a wild woman. More! More! Fuck me 'til I die!, she found her mind crying as she reached seventy and her third orgasm.

The cheers kept getting louder and more enthusiastic, turning into wild whooping cries as she reached eighty-one and another orgasm. Still, she kept going on auto-pilot until….

“EIGHTY-FIVE!”

Finally her brain and body snapped out of her trance. She squeezed her eyes shut with all her effort, but could no longer pull the bar down more than an inch. She was done. Her head flopped down onto her uplifted breasts. She couldn't even feel pain anymore except for the muscles in her wrists and arms. In her delirium, she felt herself being unstrapped from the weight machine. Her arms fell totally limp to her sides. There was no way she could even move them on her own. She felt herself being lifted and carried over to a table where she was laid on her side and stripped of her top, bottom and sneakers, leaving her completely naked.

There were hands all over her. One on her upper back with its twin claiming her breast. Her other breast was being toyed with by another's hand. He was playing with her nipple, while his other hand was under the hair behind her neck, holding it tightly. There was one hand on each of her ankles, holding one down on the table while the other hoisted her leg high in the air, almost at a 90 degrees to her other leg, opening her up lewdly. But there was also a hand with two fingers inside her and one rubbing her clit. Another hand was spanking her, not really painfully yet.

Were there only 4 guys here? How many hands were claiming her? It felt like she was being taken...being manhandled everywhere as if by some monstrous many-armed beast.

“Aaaaah, ohhhh, ooooh,” she babbled incoherently until her mouth was claimed by one of the men who began to wrestle with her tongue. The hand on her upper breast had been replaced by another's sucking mouth, his tongue licking and curling around her nipple even as her other nipple was being teased by playful fingers. She tried to think, but the hands, the mouths, the tongues, were just all too much.

Then the fingers inside her were replaced by a cock, a very large one. She had no idea how long it was until she felt the spurt inside her, followed by her folds tightening around the squirting prick, instinctively trying to milk it for all it was worth as her body lost itself in a world-shattering orgasm.

Her brain had been so totally overwhelmed, she had no conscious thought until she found herself in front of her apartment with Fritz holding her up on her unsteady legs. She couldn't even lift her arms, so Fritz obligingly unlocked her door and led her into her own apartment, seating her on her living room chair and dropping her gym bag down next to her.

“I hope we see you again soon Miss Amy,” he said in that Arnold Schwarzenegger voice of his, letting himself out, locking the door, and sliding the key back in underneath it.

Amethyst sat there, trying to recover. She noticed that she was somehow fully dressed as she had been going to the gym. Only one thought came to her addled mind.

Coffee!
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