The Trainer 2
by AKA
I woke up an hour early in anticipation of meeting Jove. It was dark in my room. It was dark everywhere. My dreams were filled with erotic images of naked men, glistening with sweat, pumping their huge muscles to bulging perfection.
I threw on my workout gear, stuffed my business clothes into my bag and was out the door in a flash. Atlas was several miles out of the way, but I didn’t care. Not at all.
All I could think of was that man’s voice in my head, and the way my cock responded to the thought of meeting him. My usual morning wood just would not abate, even after a good whacking off as I gazed at my naked reflection in the bathroom mirror. I came hard, shoving ropes of cream against the glass and all over the counter and sink. I nearly shouted with ecstasy.
But my boner would not be denied. And for some reason, I didn’t really care. I was rubbing it as I drove, even contemplating pulling my stiffy out and jerking off another round, when the dark behemoth of Atlas loomed up in my windshield, and I was pulling into the parking lot.
Atlas was an odd place. Literally in the middle of nowhere, it was an abandoned warehouse of some sort that had been made into a no-nonsense gym. Not the usual place for someone like me - the casual but dedicated gym-goer more used to soft towels and large lockers, with the mandatory smoothie bar and boutique selling expensive workout togs.
Atlas was 100% gym. I wondered if the place even had showers. Maybe they just turned a hose on you when you were done.
There were no other cars in the lot when I got there, and I checked my phone to see that I was 15 minutes early. Maybe the place wasn’t even open yet - but then I heard the sound of a door opening, and light spilled onto the wet, black asphalt.
I looked toward the sound and did not, for a moment, believe my eyes. Because the figure standing in the doorway was too large - and too wide - to be believed.
“Thomas,” the figure said. The voice resonated across the empty space. It impacted my chest like a blow and inflated my cock like a warm, wet mouth. “Come in, please.”
I grabbed my bag and walked toward the open door and the silhouette standing there. With every step, my body grew warmer. I didn’t know if it was embarrassment, because he was so big and I was so not, or excitement, because he was so fucking big.
He was backlit, so it wasn’t until I was nearly on top of him - or, rather, beneath his gaze - that I could see his face. His body was huge. Well beyond huge, in fact. And it was not until I was close enough to make out the details of the man that I realized that he was absolutely naked.
I was shocked, but that quickly passed into aroused. The man was...was...there were no words in my vocabulary to do his physique and beauty justice. Why was he naked? He seemed to be unashamed and, in a way, I felt as if he had done this for me, to illustrate his dominance and utter command. This was not a man to be fucked with. This was a man who would do the fucking.
Then there was his face. A thick, heavy beard covered his chin and cheeks, accompanied by an equally thick mustache winding across his upper lip. This leant him an extremely masculine cast, almost absurdly so. His face was lined, making his age to be in his 40’s or even his 50’s, but his eyes were clear and he did not appear in any other way to be much older than me.
He was, as my former trainer had said, huge - and huge everywhere. The man had to live at the gym. It was a wonder he wasn’t lifting weights as he waited in the doorway. His arms, his chest, his legs - everything was bulging to bursting with brawn. I had never set eyes on anyone that big, nor had I dreamt it even possible.
I tried to avoid looking at his crotch, but there was no avoiding it. He was gifted with quite possibly the largest cock I had ever witnessed, accompanied by a set of low-hanging balls big enough to hold a gallon of cream.
And he was furry everywhere. Wide, dark swaths of curls wound across his chest and arms and legs, swimming into the deep crevasses between his bulging muscles like tributaries in the mountains.
He stepped aside to allow me to pass. The heat of his bulk was palpable. Perhaps he had just been working out. Warmth poured from his muscled bulk like the sun, and he smelled slightly rank, but in a fully masculine way. I wanted to push my nostrils into his stink and suck it inside me.
Atlas was… well, it was as huge as he was. Weights, weight benches and everything to do with punishing your muscles to growth were everywhere, but the place was silent as a tomb. It was just him and me in there, and I turned around to ask something when he said, with his rumbling voice, “Take off your clothes.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“No need to beg,” he said. “Just take them off.”
“I don’t under….”
“Strip,” he said, simply.
I started to object, thinking I had gotten into something over my head, when he reached forward and quite deliberately ripped my shirt from my body as if it were tissue paper. “We are not ashamed of the body here. We are not about hiding what we have and who we are. We are about the pride, and the honor, and the beauty of the male body. We take joy and satisfaction from our achievements, the attainment of perfection and strength and power, and we never hide.”
“I’m not sure I want to…”
“You do,” he said. “You want to.”
I swallowed drily, wondering what I had gotten myself into and if this was a huge mistake. I was also a bit embarrassed because my hard-on had not abated in the slightest and I was unsure how this mountain was going to react seeing my reaction to his majesty. But something - something that had been buried deep inside me and was now crawling up into the sunlight of realization - made me obey his command and in moments, I stood before Jove in naked vulnerability, by cock pulsing with dull constant throbs and refusing to deflate.
Once naked, I realized that I did want this. I wanted to be stripped bare. I wanted everything to show, and to show everything off. I wanted size and strength and power, and I wanted it manifested in every inch of my body.
My shame quickly disappeared, even when faced with a man who outweighed me by dozens of pounds of muscle and was probably twice my size. The way he observed me, the way he...admired me. A sense of esteem and pride of my body and my manhood, swelling ever more pronounced as I simply stood there, overcame everything else I felt.
My cock swelled, as if in direct proportion to that sense of pride. It was a very obvious physical manifestation of my sudden confidence and desire to become all that this man wanted me to be. I could feel it, and my cock grew enormous with it.
He looked at me with an intensity that was both flattering and frightening. I had the impression that he was looking not so much at me as through me, as if he was seeing my soul bared as much as my flesh. “Good,” he said at last. “Very good.” Then he reached forward and grabbed my hard dick in his hand and squeezed me hard. “I see that you are unashamed of your love for muscle.”
“I…”
“Isn’t that why this is here?” He squeezed again. It felt uncommonly good.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I want more.” I wanted it all.
“I will give you more,” he said, releasing me from his rough grip. “I will give you all of it, and then I will give you even more than that.” He placed his hand on my shoulder - in the same manner that my former trainer had done - and he said, “When we are done, you and I, there will be no one bigger. No one stronger. No one more powerful or more beautiful.”
I believed him. “Yes,” I said. “That is what I want.”
He smiled. “Then let us begin.”
That first day was punishing, but thoroughly satisfying. Jove took me on the hardest circuit of weight training I had ever endured. It lasted two hours, and both of us were naked for the duration of the session. My cock stayed rock hard throughout, and at one or two points along the way - perhaps when I was straining a bit harder or sweating a bit fuller - I could not help but notice some growth and movement in the big man’s unit as well. I wondered how big that thing got when he was fully aroused.
And I wondered how long it would be before I had the same effect on his cock that he had on mine.
My muscles burned. Everything ached. But by the end, when I looked down at my glistening naked form, it looked… bigger. A rush of pride and a touch of arrogance filled me, and I wished that there was a mirror somewhere that could show me to myself.
“Now it is time for sustenance,” Jove said. “You must drink the nectar of pure power. It will feed your muscles and allow you to grow.”
His words sounded archaic and a bit religious. ‘The nectar of pure power?’ Hell of a name for a protein shake. But who was I to argue? He was in charge, that had been made very clear, and I would do whatever he told me to do.
He disappeared towards the back of the gym, which allowed me a few moments of self admiration. Fuck, I was horny. Still! Normally after punishing myself this much at the gym, I was so worn out that it would be hard to even think of getting hard. But I looked down at my throbbing manhood and wrapped my hand around its girth and felt a thick, hard rush of sexuality ricochet through my tired body. I squeezed myself and was rewarded with a fat dollop of pre-cum swelling at the eye of my serpent.
Doing so made my whole body feel stronger. I wanted to start stroking, I wanted to feel the orgasmic release as I pushed fat cords of white-hot cream up its inches and watched them splatter all over, spreading my powerful seed in celebration of myself.
Fuck, I felt good.
Jove reappeared holding an opaque glass in his large paw. It was filled with something that looked like a vanilla shake, thick with the nectar he spoke of. He held it toward me and commanded, “Drink.”
Bringing it toward my lips, a sharp tang struck my nostrils. Acrid and powerful, and somewhat alien in nature. It didn’t smell like anything I was used to pouring down my throat after a workout. “What is it?” I deigned to ask.
“As I said, it will make you strong. It will make you powerful. I will make you beautiful.”
I shrugged. “Works for me!” And then I downed it.
It tasted sweet and sour in equal measure. It was warm, and thick, and coated my tongue and teeth with its odd taste. But as I drank it down, I only wanted more of it. The taste changed from one alien into one that I relished. I could feel it branching through my body like quicksilver, leaching into my arms and legs and filling my belly with its warmth.
My cock was still hard, and now was jerking with spasms of pure joy. I was nearing orgasm, without even touching my dick. I could feel it pulsing with hard tremors of sexual release. I couldn’t account for it, but it felt good and natural and true. I licked my lips and smiled as I handed the empty container back to Jove, who took it and then folded his arms across that mammoth, furry chest of his. “You are good,” he said. “This will be fast.”
I felt re-energized. In some sense, I contemplated starting another workout immediately, filled with power and strength and determination. My cock was in overdrive. I felt like I was going to start fountaining thick sprays of cum just standing there. I could see myself grabbing onto the fat shank of cock jutting forward from between my powerful legs and shooting ropes of thick cream all over Jove’s massive body, rewarding and displaying my pride in what he had done in the most direct and masculine form.
“You must go to your occupation,” he said, as if hearing my thoughts and my desire to hit the weight stack all over again. “We shall meet again tomorrow morning.”
“How often are we going to meet?”
“Daily,” he said. “Every morning. Here.”
“Even weekends?”
“Every morning. Until you are perfect.”
This did not sound like a bad plan to me. “When… how do I pay you?”
“When we are finished, then you’ll pay me.”
I didn’t ask how much. I didn’t care. This is all I ever wanted to do. Be here, and be with him, naked and powerful, pushing steel with my raw muscle, feeling myself growing stronger and bigger and more beautiful every day.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jove.”
“Enjoy your day, Thomas.”