You arrive at Buck’s Gym, a bit nervous, and by no means ready for your first day of working out. It’d been years since you even worked out, let alone gone to a gym! You’d packed on a few pounds, Domino’s thanks you for your patronage, and it was about time to do something about it. So, when you saw the advertisement for Buck’s Gym, an MMA training gym, it was about time you changed for the better.
Walking into the place, you are shocked to see the emptiness of the building. The cold, grey walls and crystal chandeliers don’t exactly scream “fitness center.” In fact, no one comes to greet you! You take out your phone and read the email they sent you.
‘Please arrive no later than noon on November 20, if you want to take full advantage of our services. A representative will be there to assist you and get started.’
Irritated, you hastily slide your phone into your pocket, looking up for only a split second before a fist comes from out of the blue, striking you in the face. The minute the gloved knuckles landed on your eye socket, you are knocked clean out.
Groggily, the next thing you see is the grey-walled room through blurred vision, the lines between wall, window and floor too indecipherable to distinguish. In your ringing ears you hear heavy footsteps from just in front of you. You try to rub your eyes, only to discover your hands are bound behind your back. You hear the footsteps stop, and the silhouette of a large man blocks the sunlight.
“I’m guessing you’re here for the open house.” he says, a singular footfall echoes throughout the cavernous room. “Say something, big boy.” You whimper an affirmative ‘uh huh’ and nod, tears streaming down your face. “I thought so. We’re not taking on any new members.” Your eyes adjust ever so slightly, and you can make out his features. He’s latino, maybe 5′7 with broad shoulders and rippling abs. Sweat gleams from the crevices of his bulging muscles, you can tell they exude a good amount of heat. A damp jockstrap cradles his precious nether regions. “Although, you have potential, kid. You wanna be a fighter?”
Possessed by pure instinct, you nod a silent affirmative once more. His expression turns to one of preparation and focus, as he stretches his his thick arms. He never loses your sight, even as he shakes and stretches his gigantic feet and meaty legs. Without warning, he begins to charge you. You struggle a bit in your chair, trying your damndest to pull free from your restraints. At unbelievable speed and agility, he jumps forward as if he were diving into a pool. Your mouth stands agape, as his gigantic form flies at your face, his hands inches from your eyes! Whatever pain you expected was usurped, when his hands slipped effortlessly into your mouth. You taste the worn leather of his tattered gloves for just a single moment, as your mouth stretches like a snake’s to accommodate his muscular arms.
His head follows suit, slipping like butter into your widened throat, while his hands pull him further into your body. Your head stretches to capacity when his broad shoulders and husky pecs wriggle their way inside you. Inside your belly, you feel his hands and arms beginning to grasp onto the inside of your skin, as if you were simply a hollowed suit, and with a quick tug, pulls his shoulders and pecs into you with a loud pop! His abs and groin tasted delicious, as the salty sweat slid across your tongue, his smooth and slick skin being the perfect palate to taste him. The groty fabric of the jockstrap tasted of sweat, urine, and cum, all stained from uses past. As his thick and meaty quads, hamstrings, and calves slid through without any effort, you taste the very last of him. His musky and smelly feet smack you in the face, getting the smelly sweat all over your face with their soft soles. You feel the feet slide down your throat, coming to a rest in the center of your body.
Your stomach grumbles and bubbles. A sense of euphoria overcomes you as you watch his limbs extend into your own. The outlines of his thick fingers climbing up your arms come to rest in your own. His significantly larger feet and legs have a bit more difficult of a time, as they slowly push their way down your bulbous legs. His feet being wider than your legs, you see them push farther and farther, until they slip into your feet. It feels as if you’re wearing socks two sizes too small, but you’re the socks! Knowing the last part of him within you, you quietly accept your fate, as your throat widens once more. His head slides up into your skull, your eyes roll back and moans escape your mouth.
Silence. Looking out your eyes, you see the same grey walls and wooden floors. The unmistakable feeling of fullness surrounds you. You try to move your head up, but you can’t. You try to move your legs, but you can’t. All you can do is watch as you rise and slam yourself backwards, splintering the chair into shards. A passenger in your own body, your hands free themselves from their restraints, and your legs walk toward the mirror without your consent. Peering into the mirror, you see your skin sag from your limbs. All the fat… It was gone! You see the faint outline of the man beneath your rubbery skin, his bulging muscles giving light definition to your frame. Your face smiles, and winks at you. Suddenly, your skin begins to tighten around the man’s body, tighter and tighter until you possess the impressive build of the fighter. From within you, he cracks his calloused knuckles and strikes an aggressive pose, showing off some impressive jujitsu and karate moves.
You will be the best fighter there was. You train at Buck’s, where the best of the best work. Match after match, you are the victor, but is it truly you? From underneath your skin, you feel the smirk and snarkiness of the fighter brooding within. You should be careful what you wish for in the future, you truly have reached your potential, but you can only watch from the sidelines.
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