by Sub Boy
“Your membership would begin today upon finalization of your purchase, after which you will be billed each month for sixth months.”
My eyes were fixed down below his desk, at his dress shoes. I looked back up at Bryan, “Yes, sir. That works.”
“Perfect. I’d just need you to swipe your credit card into our reader to make your first month’s payment, and then we’ll assign you a trainer.”
It’s clear why Bryan is hired as the business manager. He’s young, handsome, needed muscles, tall and slender. His smile kind of captivates you into purchasing a program. I submitted my card, and finally did something I told myself I’d do for years.
I was sick of being the fat kid in college. 5’10”, 190 pounds with barely any strength, now that I’m an ‘adult’ I told myself I’d finally make the difference for myself. I’m sick of being judged by girls, and even the few guys I’ve been with, that my body just doesn’t cut it. It’s hard to get someone to stick around at my size.
My payment went through. “Alright, then,” Bryan confirmed. “Walk with me this way, and I’ll introduce you to who I think we’ll set you up with..”
Following him, I was introduced to this white, chiseled, stern and serious looking dude, someone who looks like he doesn’t have any fun in his life, a complete fitness devotee.
“Sam, this is Zeke, he’s one of our best.” We made eye contact and shook hands, I got a small judgmental vibe from the way he first exchanged looks with me, I could tell ‘this will be a hard case’ was what was going through his head. “He’ll start you off, figuring out your body and what we can do to get you to your goals. I’ll check in here and there to see how things are going.” Bryan made me feel so optimistic. He then left the two of us alone.
“What’s your diet like?” Zeke first’s words were to me.
“Uhh…It’s getting better. Definitely was a mess in college. I’ll still at fast food time to time, but I’m cooking for myself a lot more, eating more protein, less sugar overall.”
“Do you count your macronutrients? Do you count your daily sugar intake?”
“No, not really.”
“That’s the first place to begin making these small but accumulating changes,” he smiled. It was almost a fake, commercial smile. “Drop down and give me twenty five. Let me see how you can do.”
I obeyed and pushed myself down into push-up position. I started. One, two, three. He really leaned in over me, really close and observing my back and my form, so close his sneakers were nearly under my face. He wore these white, athletic Nike’s. I can tell he keeps them nice and clean.
“I can tell you need to buy better quality shoes,” his first comment was. “Your feet are important in anchoring your form in anything, I can tell your footing is kind of uncomfortable because those shoes look cheap,” He was right. “I want you to go home, and before we start next week, go out the mall and get a nice sixty to eighty dollar pair of Nike or Adidas.”
“Yes, Sir.”
A week had passed and I returned to the gym, following his advice. In the locker room, I putt my stuff away and took out my new black Adidas I was ready to wear for this. Near to me was Bryan chatting with another gym member. “You want to make sure whatever shoes you buy, you get good arch support or by a comfortable insole.” He raised his leg onto the bench, and proceeded to take his dress shoe off.
Even in the locker room, Bryan the business manager was in his red button up, black slacks, and dress shoes. He held up his shoe and showed it to the kid, the asian dude about my age, a little shorter than me. Bryan’s black socked foot on the bench, he pointed to it, “My feet tend to be more flat, but even wearing a small insole in my every day shoes gives me comfortability I need, and allows me to put more weight on them when I work out later.” He showed the inside of the shoe to the kid, demonstrating the type of insole he buys. One of the jocks behind them, a buff, latino, 6’5” dude or so chuckled as he walked past them.
Back upstairs, I greeted Zeke, eager to begin my first day. “Drop and give me twenty-five again, to start off.” I obeyed, and found myself in the same position, lifting and dropping my head over his shoes, I can nearly smell his foot odor. “Nice job, I can see the improvement in posture already.” We then proceeded with the workout, largely doing chest and back workouts.
The first few sessions went really well. I noticed a ton of improvement. Bryan came up to a few weeks later, “How’s it going man?” We shook hands.
“I’m really liking Zeke, I’m already noticing a difference.”
“That’s great to hear man. Yo, I can tell you Zeke likes you a lot too. He talks about you as one of his most enjoyed clients. Glad to hear you guys are working well together.”
That same latino dude from a few weeks ago walked passed us, seeing our interaction, he gave another quick chuckle. Bryan turned around, “What’s up Hector?” Bryan and Hector were both the same height, having a natural bro connection. They then walked away, back into Bryan’s office. I heard Bryan say, “You ready boy?” but it didn’t look like he was speaking to Hector. They then closed the office door and that was the last I could see of them.
“Hey man, what’s up? You ready?” Zeke walked up from behind me. My head was still turned to Bryan’s office door. I turned around and we began our work out.
That day, as well as the next few weeks, became irregularly harder for me, and I couldn’t tell exactly why. “Go a little slower on the formwork, perhaps I’m pushing you a little too hard, too fast.” Zeke would explain to me. I couldn’t lift quite as hard, as well. I haven’t been doing anything different outside of the gym. My diet was consistent. My stress levels were good. I never felt distracted at the gym. Zeke instead I do a round of push ups to end the week’s workout, “this time, however, I want you to go real slow, we’ll only do ten push ups.”
“Okay,” that sounded fair.
“Use my shoes as a guide, each time you let yourself down, I want your nose to touch the floor in between them.”
“Okay?” I kind of understood the idea, but it was a rather weird set up and request. Nonetheless, I obeyed, my nose on the ground each repetition, his white Nike’s greeting each eye.
“Don’t arch your back up, keep your back straight so your arms can focus.” I was already sweating. I let myself down again, unable to keep my back straight. I rose back up, and Zeke lifted his leg and held his shoe on my back, keeping me aligned. I lowered down. It worked. We did a few more repetitions of this set up.
Up. Down. Up. Down. His foot held me in place. “There you go,” he almost taunted me.
Bryan walked by, “Some extreme measures being used here, I see,” They chuckled. “It’s like he’s bowing at your feet.”
“Hey, what works, works. Right, Sam?”
“Yes, Sir.” I responded to Zeke like he was a drill sergeant.
We kept going. I almost hit twenty-five! 22…23..and I totally collapsed on the twenty fourth. “Ohhhh, so close man,” Bryan chimed.
“Alright, I’ll tell you this.” Zeke commanded, “Go home, and get some rest before next week. We’ll start off with this same set up, if that doesn’t work, I’ll think of a more creative way to work you.”
I went home and really pondered what that would possibly entail. Ropes? A Brick on my back? I’m at least paying for the trainer’s ingenuity, wherever it leads me. Each day at work I felt excited for what came next. I think I was almost turned on by Zeke’s methods, holding me in place, sort of dominant over me like that. I kind of wanted more, somehow.
The night before our workout I did something unwise. Going out to drink for my friends birthday, leaving me hungover the morning of our workout, was the worst think I could’ve done to prepare for this. I drank as much water as I could during work that day to have all the energy I needed to keep Zeke and Bryan not disappointed in me.
I finally got to the gym. “Bryan and I have a short meeting,” Zeke told me. “I’ll have to push your workout back half an hour, do some cardio in the mean time.” I got on an elliptical. Next to me was that Hector dude. I took another glance at him, this dude was a chiseled God. 6’5” in those big shoes, no wonder the trainers love him. His quads were humongous, his arms gigantic. I don’t know what’s under his shirt but I’m sure it’s impressive. I turned my head back before he noticed me basically checking him out.
In those twenty minutes I did my best to give myself a running start before our workout. On my last two minutes I noticed Zeke return from the office. From the distance he signaled to me that he was ready.
“Are we ready to workout today?” He asked me when I got to him.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Alright, then. You know what to do.” I dropped down at his feet, and started to give him twenty five. One. Two. Three. Back straight, arms wide enough, I felt good. I was doing this right. I started to slow down at nine and then, his foot came on top of my back in response. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. I was doing this. Fourteen. Fifteen. I felt myself nearly give out. Sixteen was incredibly slow. I’m pushing myself at seventeen. “C’mon, kid.” Eighteen….nineteen. I was shaking. Twenty. Twenty-One. A very long and slow twenty two. Twenty…I collapsed. I collapsed twenty three. Fuck, I was so upset. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He looked down at me and shook his head in contempt. “Alright, Sam. Go get a drink of water. Take five minutes. We’re going to do this slowly one more time, SLOWLY.” I obeyed, I felt so bad that I let him down, I felt like a failure. I felt pathetic. I held my sweaty shirt up to my nose and eyes, hiding what really was shame. I got a drink of water. I slowly walked back. I got back on the ground in front of him, almost surrendering. I was practically surrendering to this greater man above me who I couldn’t please. These past few weeks felt less about working for myself, and more about making my trainer happy with me.
I laid on the ground. His right shoe came down on my back. “Up.” He said. I rose. My eyes looking down at his other shoe. “Hold it.” I held for three seconds up. “Now back down, and it’s not a full repetition until you’ve basically kissed my shoe.” I lowered myself. My lips and nose in contact with those white Nike’s. I rose. “SLOWER.” He yelled. “You know what? Maybe that’s what you need to do. Kiss my fucking shoe between in each rep.” I lowered myself, kissing the shoe of who felt like my Master at that point. I rose, and lowered myself again, kissing his shoe once more. “There you go, now you’re getting it.”
“Yes, Sir.” I told him. I felt totally submitted to Zeke and his superior masculinity. I kissed his shoe again.
Sixth rep. Seventh. Eighth. I almost had it. On the ninth I again collapsed, nearly crying. I kissed his shoe a few times down on the ground, “I’m so sorry,” I basically pleaded.
“Fucking faggot,” I was insulted. He walked away from me into Bryan’s office. I was left alone on the ground in shame. After a minute he returned. “Get up, and walk with me.”
We carried into Bryan’s office. He wasn’t there at the moment. I’d hate for him to see me like this. Through another door was a staff room and a staff locker room. Zeke grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, dragging me behind into the locker room where he closed the door. He sat on the bench, and dragged me down into a kneel in front of him. With those chiseled, God arms, he took the back of my head in his hand and lowered me down, my head in his crotch.
“You are pathetic, Sam,” he told me. He almost sounded sympathetic in the way he said it. “But…I’ll still make use of you.” I felt my heart cheer up knowing I could still please him in some way. He then brought my head to the floor, down over his shoes. “Kiss my feet.”
“YES SIR.” I got to work planting worshipful kisses one each of his white sneakers. He held his arms behind his back, seemingly enjoying this. I could pick up the strong smell coming from inside the shoe. He slipped his feet out of his sneakers one at a time. He bent down hold the opening of the shoe below my face. With both feet, he pushed my head down into the abyss of his Nike trainers.
“You’re a little obsessed with me, aren’t you? Like the smell of a real, competent, man?”
“YES SIR.” I muffled from under the weight of his feet. He leaned down and repositioned me, he turned me over onto my back, my head against the cold, hard, locker room tile. He introduced his gray socked feet over my face, pushing down. The sweat gushed a bit down my cheeks. I didn’t have to be told, I kissed his feet in total admiration. He was a stronger, better man.
“Good boy,” he complemented, wiggling his toes over my puckering lips. He was really enjoying this. He then ripped his socks off, one at a time. His bare feet hovering over my face, “Your punishment for being a faggot is that you have to clean my feet.” He lowered them and I began ferociously licking the sweat off the bottoms of his feet.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Mmmm, he moaned,” He nearly had his eyes closed enjoying my lathing tongue. “I mean, your new use is to do this after my training sessions, every day when you come in. My size 12s need some extra TLC to keep me going everyday. Understand, faggot?”
“Yes sir.” I slobbered his big, red feet, now caked wet from my worship.
“Your program will be cancelled, you will now pay a standard membership to come and work under me and the other trainers.” I wondered if Bryan would be okay with this policy, he then walked in on us.
“My, my, my, look what we have here,” he said excited at the sight of me submitted and worshipping Zeke’s feet. I was totally humiliated. Before I could even react Bryan came and sat down next to Zeke, basically over my head. Zeke removed his feet from my face. Bryan slipped his dress socked feet out of his dress shoes and brought them to my face. I deeply inhaled, his scent was even more overpowering than Zeke’s. “You think Zeke’s the only one who’s gonna get this? You’ve now joined the club of regular faggots for my 14s.” They both chuckled. “Clean my socks,” Bryan commanded.
I start tongue wiping his socks, tasting the black nylon accumulating. The sweat from his dress shoes was more plentiful than Zeke’s in his Nike’s.
“That’s a good faggot,” Zeke complemented my work, and rubbed his barefoot on the sides of my face. My face was now a total mat for the two of them to relax their feet after a long day of training. I saw Zeke smiling and rubbing his crotch. He bent in and pulled me by my collar into a sit up position. He lowered his gym shorts, introducing me to his throbbing 8” cock. “Now the faggot’s going to be in real heaven,” they chuckled as Zeke introduced his sweating cock gently into my lips, before ramming it down my throat. Bryan held his socked feet on my shoulders and Zeke began to face fuck me.
Zeke continued to pummel in and out of my throat while Bryan bent in and removed his socks. His rank bare 14s sat beside my head like my shoulders were a footstool. Zeke then pulled my head off his cock and pushed me hard up against the locker where Bryan’s feet came planting down on my face. “Eat up all of that sweat, faggot.” Bryan was the total alpha now. I licked his sweat caked feet in total respect for the boss of this intense gym for alphas. I understood I was not alpha, in fact I was the furthest from, and I loved having being put in my place.
“Lick up those big dogs, faggot.” I obeyed every word, intoxicatingly worshipping Bryan’s big godly feet, while Zeke stood beside stroking himself. No sooner than Bryan saying that did the door prop open, in walking Hector.
“Oh, this one. I brought the other faggot cuz I thought it was that one,” Hector was mistaken, holding something behind the door.
“That’s just fine, why can’t we give both their orientation?” Bryan insisted, talking over the audible sounds of my foot slurping.
In Hector dragged that scrawny Asian kid I met that one week. Dragging him in by his back color, he handed him over to Zeke. “Perfect,” Zeke took him from Hector’s hands and wasted no time shoving the boy on his throbbing cock. “Wow, he knows what to do already?” Zeke was impressed as the other faggot handled his cock with ease.
“Oh yeah, I prepped him downstairs just a bit ago.” Hector now pushed down his pants revealing his massive, wet dick. It was easily double in both girth and length what Zeke had. Zeke began stroking watching both faggots now in total service to the trainers.
I was still face-planted against the locker while Bryan fed me his toes to suck on. He began to explain things to me, “See, Sam, Hector here is one of our most loyal and consistent clients,” he looked back at him. “See, and he’s quite a fucking skull-crushing giant, so he, along with a select few others, are entitled to be in on this little secret we run here at the gym. Understand faggot?”
“YES SIR.” I mumbled under the weight of his perfect size 14s.
“I couldn’t hear you faggot!”
“YES SIR!!!”
“Now that’s a good boy, keep licking.” I continued to worship Bryan while watching, through in between Bryan’s toes, Hector stroking himself, and sliding his feet out of his shoes. His feet were bigger than Bryan’s. Easily a wide 15 or 16. He went over to Zeke, and grabbed the asian kid off his cock. Dragging him, Hector sat in between the two trainers, and held the other faggot by his throat up against the locker next to me, removing his socks. Those massive feet came crushing his head the same way Bryan was crushing mine. They all chuckled at the sight of two faggots side by side in pure worship. The kid could barely stretch out his tongue because Hector has so much force from the size of his foot, the faggot could barely do anything but suffocate and get crushed.
“Hey Z,” Bryan reached out to Zeke, “Let’s leave Hector and his faggot here alone for now, and have Sam to ourselves in the office.” He winked.
Zeke loved that idea. I was permitted to walk behind them back into the office, as Bryan closed the door leaving Hector and the other faggot alone. Both doors were shut, blinds were closed on the office’s window. Bryan positioned me on my back on the floor, while he sat in his chair and hovered his feet over my face for a second. My saliva dripped and fell a bit on my face. I gave me another second to look at his powerful feet before crashing them back down at my feet. “Keep worshipping them faggot.”
Zeke, now pantless, kneeled down in front and picked up my legs. The weight of Bryan’s feet kept me anchored like an L as Zeke stuffed his face into my ass “Nothing like a pathetic boy’s weak, vulnerable hole to get me going after a work out.” Zeke exclaimed, beginning to pry his tongue deep in my ass, opening me up. It felt so good but I couldn’t let the pleasure slow down my duties under Bryan’s feet.
It was a few minutes of pure foot worship while my trainer enjoyed my ass like a lion enjoys his kill. He backed his face out of my ass, stroking and spitting on his dick. It was a matter of moments before I felt that 8” can plunge into dick virgin ass. The pain and shriek forced Bryan to shove his toes into my mouth to shut me up, “Shut up faggot!” In and out Bryan fed me his toes, while Zeke enjoyed a slow and steady plunge deep into my ass.
The phone rang, Bryan answered it like any other, “Alpha Fitness in Escondido, how can I help you?”
