A Worout Fit for a Sub

I don't gym. It is not an activity I enjoy nor is it something I would make time for by my own volition. I don't have to spend hours there to stay lean, and I prefer to take advantage of that. Unfortunately for me, however, it

is

a requirement. Just because I look fit doesn't mean I am fit, and since my ass belongs to him, he wants to make sure it is reaching its full potential. He assigns my workouts ahead of time. He expects proper form. If he can't be there, he watches me from his phone while he works in the office. I am corrected as needed, but I try my best to do it right the first time. I get a rush when he tells me it looks good. Then I end up pushing myself a little harder, even though it goes against every fiber of my "anti-gym" being. I keep a soft tape measure and log my measurements; the changes are proof of his control of my body and my obedience. He has to work out of town this week, but my routine is to be maintained so having my gym clothes is also a requirement.

As I am walking into the hotel, I feel my phone buzz. He is closing up his project and heading back. He wants to meet me at the hotel's fitness center, so I get changed and head toward the elevator. Loose-fitting clothing is not allowed. It's unflattering and unsafe. Caged-pants are preferred. The cutouts on today's pair go all the way up the thigh. High-waisted pants are necessary because worrying about plumber's crack during squats is not a thing. This also means I don't have to worry about a shirt— solid bonus. The elevator stops and the doors open. I head toward the mats to warm-up.

About thirty minutes into the workout, he walks in. The fitness center here is a little on the ridiculous side so it takes him a minute to spot me. I feel a twinge of despair when I feel his eyes land on me from across the room. I have to make myself presentable but even with a full face on, I still feel gross-looking after a high-impact set. I steel my face quickly, knowing that any proof that I've been putting in the effort will earn me his favor. He approaches me in mid-set on the leg press. He eyes the weights to make sure I'm following his instructions. I pause while I watch, waiting to read on his face that he is pleased. He catches me.

"Don't stop. Finish up," he says.

I bring my knees back to my chest and push the platform back up with only the

slightest

hint of swiftness, but it doesn't go unnoticed.

"Stop there, and wait." I do as I am told and roll the lock bar. He adds more weight, then kneels down next to me.

"Let's see if you can handle that." His voice is so even, almost stoney, I can't gauge him. God, he smells good. The added weight was a shock to my quads, but I'm determined to impress. I take a deep breath and push. The effort I needed forces the most pathetic sound to escape my lip as I struggle to push the platform. That sound is a trigger for him; it's not something I can fake. He leans in and tells me how much he loves hearing me whimper, just before furtively licking the side of my face, rolling the lock bar into place in the same quick but fluid motion. A surge of electricity rolls across my skin radiating from the chill coming off the wet spot he left on my cheek. I definitely have an idea where his head is at now.

He tells me we're going to cut it short, do a few sets of deadlifts and then cool-down. I get excited by this; I want his hands on me so badly it's hard to think. We head to the mats. I can see him behind me in the mirror, taking me in.

"Take a step back and plant your feet." I do as I am told. As I bend over to reach for the bar, I feel my ass just barely graze the front of his shorts. My eyes widen. I didn't realize he was standing so close. I shake the thought and raise my upper body, lifting the weight; brush past his crotch

again

on my way back down. Not as light this time.

He must have leaned in!

He is toying with me. I catch his face in the mirror. He is perfectly stoic, giving no hint as to the game he was playing. Ugh—my need for him is starting to intensify. This wasn't an accident. I am starting to get the game, but this isn't exactly private.

Would they kick us out if someone noticed? No one could notice it from a few feet away, right?

My mind races from the excitement. I finish the sets, but I'm starting to feel a little light headed. I am grateful for today's reprieve. I start my stretches— legs apart, hold for 10 to the middle, then each side, then walk it in. I get my feet set and lean forward, my fingertips pushing back against the floor.

"That's your form? C'mon. Get serious," he scoffs as he moves behind me. I stand straight again as I turn toward him and wait for his guidance. He slides his foot along the inside of mine and gently nudges its out, spreading my legs slightly wider. He grips my right hip, placing his other hand on the small of my back.

"Now bend," his says, his voice low but firm. I lean toward the ground. His hands stay firmly on me. The stretch releases tension from the muscles in the back of my legs, but his touch is creating tension in the muscles between my thighs. I can feel my pelvic floor retracting as the muscles forming my walls contract. The void in between my thighs is begging to be filled. I need to get out of this gym.

Time for the hamstring stretch. You know the one, where you put your leg over your partner's shoulder and they lean into you to stretch you out. I get my right leg over his shoulder and he starts to lean in. His crotch is pressed right up against mine. We've fucked in this position before. Now I'm lost thinking about that fuck; that stern look in his eyes under his tightly drawn brows, concentrating on every thrust. As my mind drifts back to the gym, I catch his eye. A dark expression washes over his face. He must have been thinking about that fuck, too. I can feel the proof pushing into me when he leans into my hips. His gym shorts won't keep our secret; it's time to go. When he speaks, his voice comes out as a low growl.

"Get in the fucking elevator."

We get inside the elevator. It's pretty deserted on the floor, no sign of anyone to pretend to hold the door for. As soon as the doors close, he pins me, face in the wall, arms above my head so my ass sticks out slightly. He grips both wrists with one hand leaving his free hand to rake the sides of my ass. Before I can catch my breath, the next thing I hear is the sound of his hand slapping my ass..The smack is impossibly loud in the muted air of the elevator. I can tell from how bad it stings that he had been needing to do that for a while. He spanks me three more times in quick succession, before pushing his body completely against mine, forcing me into the wall. His taller build almost completely envelopes my petite frame as he tries to push his hard-on into me through my tight workout pants. He presses his lips to my ear.

"You'll have to clean up before your worthy, but your mouth is still usable. You have one more squat left in your set. Legs wide. Let's go." He releases me from the wall. I turn around and do as I'm told.

"Deep squat...good girl...open..."

I open my mouth, keeping my back as straight as possible. Form is very important.

"Wider." he says, this time with less patience. He reaches out, plugging my nose until I open wide enough for his liking. He pushes through my hair until he has a grip on the back of my head. As he pulls it out of his gym shorts, he pushes my head toward his cock and I almost lose my balance. He steps closer, pushing me back into the wall. I taste his pre-cum as he slides slowly down my tongue, down my throat until I have my mouth on all of him. I gag and begin to struggle to hold my balance.

"Hold that squat. Take it all in. Show your gratitude."

I try to do as I'm told. Form is so important for the squat to be done correctly, but good form is hard to hold while he is fucking my throat. He barely starts getting into his rhythm when the elevator came to a stop. The ding announcing our arrival sounds. His waistband rises as quickly as I do.

"After you." He gestures toward the hallway. He likes to walk behind me; my ass being his property, he likes to make sure it's up to par. I walk to our room, pulling the key out of my bag. As I start to put the key card in the slot, he quickly pins my wrist behind my back, his other hand forcing my head back when he grabs my hair. His cock is completely ready. I can feel him trying to force his way into my pussy through my pants. I'm so wet, I can almost take him in through my clothes. He thrusts into me more times before he actually lets me open the door.

"Go to the bathroom, get undressed, then stand in the shower. Do not turn the water on; do you understand?" He is practically glowering at me. I love when he looks this serious. I want to bite his lip when he looks like that. My clit quivers when he looks like that.

"Yes sir." I struggle to get the words out firmly, so he knows I understand. I stand in the shower, hands at my sides. I'm not allowed to touch, or cover anything that doesn't belong to me without permission. He walks in without words or clothes. He opens the glass door and steps in. I want him to touch me.

Please touch me; please fuck me.

He positions me directly under the shower head. He reaches past me and turns the water on. The shock of the cold water snaps me out of the needy fog. I straighten up and remember my purpose. The water slowly warms up.

"Wash yourself." His brows drawn, eyes dark. I do as I'm told. Hair cleaned, I reach for the soap, but he grabs it first.

"Spread." He slaps his hands between my thighs until my legs are as wide as he wants them. He begins to wash me, hands lathering soap between my breasts, under my arms, between my thighs. He turns me around and runs the washcloth from my front to my backside, thoroughly cleaning every inch of my. He takes the shower head off the wall and rinses me. When he gets to my waist he aims it right at my pussy. He runs the water back and forth from my clit to my cunt. I'm on the verge, desperate to be filled.

"Good girl." His voice sounds like he's fighting something. I suddenly feel his teeth biting my ass. He licks my back then bites my shoulder, hard. I close my eyes relishing the sensation of being consumed by him.

Once I'm worthy, I can serve my purpose. He grips my waist, bending his knees. He pushes up into me with his cock, hard and fast. His grunts come in louder between the bites he takes out of my neck and jaw. I feel his tongue running up the nape of my neck to my ear. The shower becomes a frenzied carnal fuck scene. Teeth. Tongues. Hands. He's growling into my hair. He slaps my ass. Again, harder this time. Again. And again.

And again.

My legs start to fail me, but it doesn't matter. His thrusts keep me from falling, one after the other. Slamming. Forcing it in deeper and harder each time. I'm pinned between the wall and his cock while he hammers into me.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Yes, please! Oh fuck—he is going to make me cum...

I'm really starting to enjoy my workouts.