This choice: "I'd like to get started straight away." • Go Back... “I'd like to get started right away.” You mused.
“Very well.” Lena said, leaning back. “If you need anything, you can find me here, or you can try asking your father.”
You made your way to the locker rooms, and as you set your bag down you took notice of how quiet the gym was. You didn't notice until you entered the lockers. Typically some of the noise from the floor would filter back to the lockers and reception, yet you could hear nothing but your breath and steps. Completely sound-proof, nice to have, but it made you wonder just how loud the patrons must be if such extreme measures were taken.
You quickly changed, simply removing your baggier clothing and putting it in the locker along with your bag.
Upon entering the floor, you immediately understood why the sound-proofing was necessary. Music, you guessed some sort of techno, was playing loud enough that you felt the bass wrestling with your own heartbeat, probably to try and cover how loud the patron themselves were being. With a quick glance at a wolf on the far end of the space doing squats, you recognize the jaw motions typical of shouting. Figures.
You feel a hand poke your beefy shoulder, prompting you to turn your head. It's your father, and it seemed that he had even taken off his tank top, staying only with his straining shorts. You give him a quick glare after pointing at his partial nudity, but he shrugs it off, making motions of tearing. You don't even bother talking, the music being far too loud for that even so close to one another.
Josef gestures you to follow him. As you make your way behind your father, you take a few glances around. Overall it doesn't seem to be a place frequented by 'big' people. Including your father, you're apparently the second or third largest person present. The wolf from earlier, now that you could take a better look, was closer to you in terms of size.
“Maybe it's not this place after all.” You muttered aloud, the music perfectly preventing you from hearing your own speech.
Your father comes to a stop, which prompts you to lean to the side and see what he's doing.
You manage to keep your composure, but gesturing back and forth with your father you see another dinosaur anthro, and damn if he's huge. The t-rex anthro, standing as he was now, he must've been as tall your father, but for his overall size, he was a completely different league. Your brain fails to process the numbers necessary, but his arms were as thick as your thighs were, without even flexing. His legs were so developed that he had to widen his stance very slightly, thighs alone as wide as your torso. And that's not accounting for the rest. His pectorals made your father's look 'slim'. His abs, lats, shoulders, neck, and even his tail, and his 'second tail'. Everything about this guy could only be inadequately described as 'huge'.
Your father took a step to the side, and grabbing your shoulder gestured at you to present yourself to whoever this was.
You were unsure of the next step, resorting to a slight smile and a simple wave.
The guy must've found it amusing, letting out what you guessed must've sounded like a hearty laugh, if you could've heard it. You feel a laugh's vibrations through your father's hand still on your shoulder. Looking at him, he gives you a thumbs up and steps away, moving to a machine and beginning to setup the weights.
You were about to step towards your father when the t-rex pats your shoulder. He then gestures to follow you. You don't quite understand what your father could've told him, but you see him take you to a simple weight bench, preparing a bar on the rack and gesturing you to sit. As you wait for whatever he's planning, you notice him looking at you, scratching his chin in thought. You barely even have the time to start gesturing that he turns to the plate racks and grabs four plates. You look at the numbers and you gasp. He's trying to load 300 lb on the bar. You frantically gesture him to stop, but he seemingly ignores you.
With the plates secured, he reaches around and with the most fluid example of strength pushes you by the shoulder to lay on the bench. You keep gesturing to the plates, but he just looks at you, cracking half a smile as he lays his hands on his hips. A simple shake of his head and pointing at the bar are enough to tell you that he's not letting you off the hook until you at least give it a try.
You gulp, and raise your clawed hands to grasp at the bar. While you adjust your position and form, the t-rex moves around to spot you, with the unfortunate side effect of placing his straining shorts just past your peripheral view.
Deciding it would be best to not dwell on that, you focus on the definitely more literal pressing matter at literal hand.
You push against the bar, and slowly unrack it. Your best bench press was 290 lb, but you had really pushed yourself then just to pull off a single lift. You carefully lower the bar, your shoulders and arms burning already with strain, but the guy isn't budging. You start pushing, putting all of your strength at work. It's slow, excruciatingly slow, but the bar moves up little by little.
Anger wells up in you. Not even your first day in the gym, and this 'dude', whatever his name was, was trying to humiliate you at your health's expense.
A roar escapes your throat as you push for dear life on the bar. It goes up, making it halfway up with the same speed one of your regular 'light' reps would take. It eventually makes it to the top, and you rerack it. No longer in direct peril, your arms fall limp to the side as your chest heaves.
Your eyes are shut close as you fight back a serious urge to get up and swing at this 'trainer', but you feel vibrations come off the bench. You open your eyes and see him unload the plates, and loading up a far more realistic 260 lb. As he secures the plates, he leans on the bench's bar rack and cracks a pretty toothy grin. You bare your own teeth in a snarl, which only makes his grin all the more smug.
He bats his hands on the bar, clearly wanting you to lift it. You take a deep breath, and try to move your arms. They're hurting, but you think maybe you can do a couple lifts before having to give it up. You're about to lock hands on the bar when you see him place a bottle at hand's reach from you. You shakily grab it, and as you are about to ask what it is you notice him drinking whole mouthfuls from an identical bottle, which makes you notice that both bottles are completely unmarked and anonymous.
Typically you would refuse unmarked drinks from someone who just put your health in peril as if to prove a point, but you weren't in the circumstance to deny that a drink might help. Who knows, maybe this guy's 'stash' is the key to your father's development. You shake your head, and letting common sense drown in the bass rumbling off the gym's speakers, you unscrew the cap and take a swig.
It oddly tastes like a regular energy drink, if it were meant to be as generic of a flavor as possible. As the taste lingered in your mouth, you were unsure if it was meant to be slightly salty, slightly sweet, or spicy, or minty. It just 'tasted', with no specific trait standing out. What did stand out was your body's reaction. As the foreign fluid was absorbed by your body, you feel your arms almost awash in a minty cool.
You eye the guy, who had set down his empty bottle and was apparently waiting for you to start your lifts. You close and set the bottle down next to you.
It was time for a workout.
- - -
Josef was, honestly, impressed and mad at the same time.
He watched his daughter being put through a torturous gauntlet of a workout by his trainer, and she managed to power through it, unrelenting, only limited by her spite for the t-rex. Even he didn't go through all that at the peak of his bulking, and yet she took to it like a predator to the hunt.
The part he was mad at, however, was how the t-rex thought his daughter would willingly go through that without objection on his part. He knew better than to challenge the trainer, he'd already tried a couple times, but torturing his daughter like that was were he'd draw the line.
He almost stomped over to the t-rex, tapping on his shoulder. He gestured you to stop, and as he turned around, Josef gestured him to follow him to the lockers.
“What, in the hells, is wrong with you?” Josef snarled.
“You told me she needed training.” The t-rex huffed, crossing his mountainous arms. “I'm giving her just that.”
“Training is one thing.” Josef hissed, holding back from shouting. “Wringing her as if she's your same size is not training.”
“Josef, everything's fine.” The t-rex waved a hand in dismissal. “She's already taking to our training regime like a fish to water.”
“Fred, she's powering through the sets only to spite you.” Josef sighed. “I'm frankly impressed that she was still able to keep going after that lift at the beginning.”
“See, you've got to give her more credit.” Fred said, the t-rex placing his hands on Josef's shoulders. “You're looking at her like a child. Trust me, from what I see in her, by the time I'll be done with her she'll be benching me and you combined and not even feel it.”
- - -
By the end of the morning, you're hurting.
Rather than a workout pump, you felt like a slinky spring that had been stretched too much.
You used what little strength you could still muster to get you home and up to your room. You didn't even bother to disrobe properly, simply removing your baggy clothes and then flopping down on your bed. You groan as you try to at least sit. Your full-length mirror was just about in sight for you to see the results.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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