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Subject: Title story: "The Ultimate Exercise of Power" Author: Anonymous 60982615
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Date: Fri, 02 Dec 2005 00:02:11 +0000
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The Ultimate Exercise of Power
"Eight ... Nine ... Ten!" Diane dropped the dumbbells and evaluated the
impressive bulge of her tensed biceps with appreciation. Seventy five pounds
wasn't going to be enough, she thought she'd have to increase the weight next
time. Back off the number of sets, of course, and increase the weight ... that's
the ticket.
She eyed the Roman Chair and heaved a sigh. It was getting late and she had to
get an early start tomorrow. She ran her fingers across the thin leotard
covering her stomach. She smiled at the feel of the hard, rippled washboard she
encountered. She HAD been working out for almost two hours tonight, though
primarily on chest and arms and now everyone else had left the gym. She just
didn't have the motivation to start any ab workout at this hour. Stroking the
impressive muscles of her abdomen lovingly, she laughingly acknowledged that she
could afford to skip ONE session.
Diane wiped the sweat from her forehead and started for the locker room.
"Hey baby!" Startled, she looked around. There, near the front desk, was a
scrawny looking geek wearing a big smile. "I couldn't help but notice you
exercising, there," he said with a grin.
"Oh great," Diane thought, "an OBSERVANT geek!" She was tired and pointedly
ignored him as she continued toward the locker room. The geek seemed to
take offense.
"Hey, what gives YOU the right to cop an attitude," he called after her. "It's
not like you're any beauty or anything!" Diane had already made it to the locker
room and paused in front of the full-length mirror. No beauty? She looked at her
reflection. She saw a woman with an obviously incredible body. A little over six
feet tall. Wide, well-developed shoulders. A broad chest that hadn't sacrificed
an impressive pair of breasts -- probably around 50DDD, she estimated. The
scanty black leotard she wore accentuated her physique more than covered it,
outlining every magnificently-defined muscle.
She smiled as she saw the reflection of her feet. She had one major point of
vanity: she never wore tennis shoes when she worked out. She always wore black
pumps. There was something ... sexy ... about such an anomaly.
Eyes still glued to the mirror, she curled her fist to pump her biceps. Easily
over 17 inches! She allowed her eyes to travel over the beautifully-defined
muscles of her body. Built and chiseled, she decided. It had taken her years to
sculpt such an impressive body, but she knew the results had been worthwhile.
She finally brought her gaze up to her face. High cheek bones and almond-shaped,
green eyes. She might have been taken for oriental if not for her long, flaming
red hair, currently tied back severely in a long, flowing ponytail. Not a
beauty? Ha! He had no concept of the word, then! Her reverie was broken by the
intrusion of the geek's parting shot:
"Fucking horse!" Diane's eyes narrowed in anger. The insult brought a disturbing
thought to mind. Had that little twerp been thinking he was going to get lucky
with HER because no one else would have her? She flushed with indignation. "I'm
a fucking physical goddess!" she thought, angrily. "That asshole isn't fit to
jerk off on my shoes!"
Wheeling, she stomped back to the gym area. The geek was just rounding the
corner, heading for the exit.
"HEY YOU LITTLE SONUVABITCH!" she shouted with fury. "GET BACK HERE!" The geek
froze where he was, uncertain. Diane stormed over to him and stood, towering
and menacing.
"Just where the HELL do you get off calling me a 'horse,' you sorry little
excuse for a man?!" The twerp stood looking at her, blinking nervously. Diane
was panting with anger. "You know what I think?" she asked. The man swallowed
loudly, but said nothing.
"I think I ought to beat the shit out of you," she hissed in a quiet,
dangerous voice.
The man chuckled nervously. "D-don't be ridiculous!" he stammered. "Y-you're
just a woman!" Diane looked at the guy appraisingly. He was at least four inches
shorter than her and weighed about 180 pounds. At least 40 pounds or so lighter
than her, she mused. He wasn't in bad shape. But conversely, he was obviously no
athlete, either. She grinned evilly.
"JUST a woman?" she asked, cocking her head as if she couldn't believe she'd her
correctly. She pushed her arm into his face and slowly bulged her biceps. The
swelling muscle pressed against his nose and forced his head back slightly.
"Does this look like JUST a woman to you?" she demanded.
The man pushed her arm away violently. "Get away from me, you freak," he spat.
"I know your type! You're the kind who secretly wants to be a man so she can
have sex with REAL women!" Diane's head rocked back, stunned. "You calling me a
lesbian?" she asked incredulously. She stared at him for several seconds,
letting her indignation build. Then she laughed. "A lesbian?! No, I'm no
lesbian," she chuckled, after she'd caught her breath. She stopped smiling
suddenly and ...
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