Change his Mind - part 2
October rolls in, and I still manage to go to the gym twice a week, as per Brutus' instructions. While I've only been to the gym a total of eight times now, I still see some of the results. Brutus says that's normal, that you get the most results when you first start out, and hit peaks after about four months of lifting. That's fine with me, though. I think I'll be happy if I gain five pounds a month over four months. That will make me 130 pounds, pretty respectable for somebody my height, if nothing big.
Right now the scale in my bathroom reads 115. That accounts for the first five pounds gained. I guess I can see some of the differences, even if they are fairly minute. My biceps don't look any fuller, my chest is still flat, I've got skeleton instead of abdominal; everything does feel just a tiny bit firmer, though. The skin seems more stretched across, taut, rather than just a coating there with nothing really inside of it. I'm glad for the progress in numbers, even if I can't see the changes. It's enough to keep me going, wanting to head on back to the gym and get another intense workout with Brutus, Ziude always nearby and watching.
That wolf occupies my thoughts more and more. I have to catch myself in lectures before i start thinking about that jiggling ass. Classical literature doesn't do much to cover an erection when you have to walk out of class, as I have unfortunately discovered. I don't think anybody has noticed that yet, but I don't take my chances. The blush on my face at those moments when I walk out of the lecture hall no doubt gives away what my backpack is hiding. Either that, or people just think I can't handle the raunchy material in some of the pieces of fiction we have to read. Until this semester, I really had no idea Victorians were so eager to write about sexual escapades.
Nothing quite compares to the dreams I have about Ziude, though. It makes the Victorians look tame. How I want to ravish him, hold him in my arms, keep him close. He'll protect me against others, stand behind me and growl at anybody who tries to cross us. Then we'll go back home, maybe he'll get behind me and shove that meat of his into my ass. At which point I wake up to my sheets dripping with the results of my wet dream. I don't think I've ever done laundry so many times in one month, now I'm doing it twice a week just to keep my sheets clean. It's becoming a serious cost issue.
It doesn't help that Ziude has some habits that I find rather embarrassing. He seems to delight in wearing the most flamboyant of clothing, with colours that I can only associate with the kind of person that screams "faggot". Bright pinks, frilly scarves, fancy coats - all the things I would expect on a female the wolf wears without shame. It does go rather nicely with his overall feminine shape, I admit readily, but it still makes me more than a little uncomfortable, making him more taboo. And he seems to think that everybody should be dressing like him as well.
"That shirt doesn't work with your pants, hun" Ziude tells me when he and I are leaving the gym after a brutal session. "You should never be wearing two shades of blue unless you've got something on top of your shirt to distract from it. Otherwise you look like a walking blueberry." I don't know how he knows these things about fashion. I guess everybody has their areas of expertise that they research and love to know everything about it. For me, that's video games. For Ziude, it must be fashion.
He's trying to convince me that I need to wear better fitting clothes, things which aren't quite as baggy, so that I can show off my frame a little bit. When I try and counter with the argument that I look like a scarecrow, he just shakes his head, drapes his arm across my back, and smiles. "But think how sexy you'll look when all your clothing gets so tight!" When he giggles, it makes me go red in the face to think that he might be imagining me muscular with clothing a size too small.
The idea that Ziude might be fantasizing about me drives me on to work harder, to lift more and become somebody I'm really not. Brutus must notice my determination, because he gets more aggressive and assertive when he sees me coming into the gym with a concentrated look on my face. After the first set that dedication gets shattered as the panther rips into me, verbally assaulting me to just do another rep, calling me the "pansy-assed fox who won't amount to anything". Sometimes he's perfectly accurate when he says that too, because I just can't manage that last few reps without him supporting the majority of the weight. I'm not lifting all that much either.
At least now I can use the ten pound weights for curls. Brutus delights in mocking me for having been barely able to curl the five pound weights when I first started. My dumbbell press keeps going up as well, though I'm having a lot of trouble lifting the two weights of thirty-five pounds. That's the one exercise that I know would hurt if Brutus wasn't there to keep my arms steady and force them back up when my strength falters.
I make the most progress with squats. I'm already able to support fifty pounds plus the weight of the bar, which I hear is something like 45 pounds. That's almost 100 pounds, just fifteen short of my own body weight. That really impresses me every time I successfully complete the set. So whenever Brutus announces that it's time to do squats, my tail starts wagging before I catch myself and get it to calm down. The panther doesn't think it's amusing at all: he scowls at me when he sees any signs of happiness, and it makes my ears flatten.
I tell Ziude about my progress with squats while he and I get lunch together. Brutus doesn't want to come, he says that he doesn't spend enough time lifting now that he helps me, and wants to stick around in the gym a little longer. I'm more than happy with this arrangement, even if it took Ziude's convincing to get Brutus to calm down at first. When Brutus heard I was going to go to lunch with the wolf, Brutus looked like he would kill me. He's the jealous type, that's for sure. Ziude's really a standup guy to protect me like that.
"He's your lifting buddy, he gets to be my hang out buddy," Ziude had argued, with some success thanks to the watery eyes. His hands actively groping the bulging panther probably made things a little easier as well. I wasn't really listening when they were arguing about me, it was common place at this point. Brutus doesn't like me, I know, but he loves Ziude, and it seems he'll do anything for that wolf. I can understand the sentiment exactly.
While Ziude and I eat lunch, I get the chance to converse and enjoy some real conversation with the wolf. He's just as bubbly outside of the gym as he is within those walls, just somehow he seems even more excited to be away from the burly men. Everything makes him bounce up and down in his seat, even just the idea of ordering food at some cheap chain restaurant. When I tell him that I'll be ordering something cold, he just smiles at me, leaning forward, chin in his hands, and staring. "Why cold? It's getting cold outside already, wouldn't warm food be tastier?"
Only by looking away can I keep myself from staring into his off-coloured eyes. "I just like cold food, I guess." Lame answer, I know. I'm unable to think of any real explanation for it though, I just like colder foods. Frozen desserts, icy liquids - those are the kinds of things I will happily eat and never think twice about what they actually are. As long as it tastes good and it chills my insides, then I'm willing to consume it. I could have tried to explain that to Ziude, but it would have sounded silly. I didn't need to have the wolf start laughing at me for liking something and being so ridiculous about it. Some people have all the confidence. I bet Brutus would have skipped the whole question and just replied with some snappy comment. Comparing myself to him does not make me feel better about myself. I slump in my seat.
"That's so sweet!" Ziude squeals, high pitched enough that I find myself poking a finger into my ear to try and clean out the shrill noise. Who gets that excited about such a simple answer? "Can I have some of your drink too? I promise I won't get anything in it. We can even share a straw!" His tail thumps against the cheap plastic seat of the booth we are sitting within. "Like in those movies with those young couples on their first dates."
People three tables down must know I'm blushing at this point. It sounds like Ziude called this a date, which my over-eager self wants to be the case. Too bad logic steps in and shuts that down. The wolf's got a boyfriend, I remind myself. A boyfriend who could likely eat you and still be hungry for more once he's done. Calm down, take it easy, and just laugh, assume it's a joke. What comes out of my mouth can only be defined as the world's most nervous, half-hearted giggle. Well done, the sarcastic part of me remarks. Truly an award winning performance, Zev.
Ziude never reacts negatively, I'm convinced of it. He keeps that smile on his face at all times, and reads the best into everybody else. "It's just a joke silly," he says, his wrist going slack as he holds out his arm. When the waiter, a doberman with several ear piercings, does come by with our orders, Ziude flutters his eyelashes as he gives thanks. He even blows a kiss to the startled waiter, who quickly turns around and heads off to serve other customers. I get the feeling the doberman will not be wondering about his tip from us, assuming I can get over my own horror at eating lunch with the gayest man I've ever met.
It only seems to get worse as the meal goes on, too. Ziude starts to talk about fashion, and newest trends. I'm not sure how I can possibly contribute, but the wolf becomes so enthused with the topic that I don't want to have him stop. Listening to his angelic voice has me relaxing as I sip away at the milkshake I had ordered. "And you should see what she was wearing on stage," he continues, not having touched his food yet. "I know she likes to stay ahead of the trends, but that outfit was simply scandalous." He's talking about one of the new teen female sensations, and I haven't a clue which one. They all sound and look the same to me. Ziude seems to love them, which I guess shouldn't surprise me. It does mortify me, however. I try and sink lower into my seat, hoping that others will fail to notice me and think Ziude is talking on a phone to somebody else.
"What do you like to do for fun, sweetie?" I barely notice that he's done talking. I've been trying to phase out the words and listen only to his voice, that sweet voice. I shake my head to try and get myself to focus, come up with a semi reasonable answer that doesn't so pathetic.
"I play a lot of video games," I mumble, only now realizing that trying to be buff and playing games seems like such a contradiction. Aren't gamers always fat and slovenly? They don't have the drive to get out of their seats and do something physical. That's why sports games make so much money, after all. And now I've gone and thrown my lot in with them just by saying I like video games.
Ziude's eyes let up, his excitement reaching a crescendo. I swear I can see his seat vibrate with the wolf's enthusiasm. "What games? I play them all the time, I just got the newest Promenade release."
"You've been playing Summer of Sin, too?" I've no reason to contain my surprise. This is common ground that I can actually talk about, something that interests me. We exchange banter over our favourite characters, core game play mechanics, and Ziude going on about the artistic direction. I try and make a point that the music syncs up really nicely with the scenery, but he insists that the atmosphere is just slightly off. The discussion continues on, jumping around through the standard questions exchanged among people who regularly indulge in games: which one is your favourite, what consoles do you own, have you ever played the following game. I'm having an absolute blast, the remains of my lunch forgotten about in the heat of the conversation.
When the doberman comes with the bill, he's in and out, dropping the piece of paper on the table and dashing away before Ziude even has a chance to say thank you. "What a cutie", the wolf remarks as I pick up the bill. My eyes go wide when i see the little message scrawled on to the piece of paper - the waiter left his number on it just under the amount, which I can tell has been discounted by nearly twenty percent.
"I think he meant for you to have this," I say, handing the bill over to Ziude. The wolf titters when he catches the message. Then he fishes out his wallet from his pocket and drops a twenty, more than covering the meal and a healthy fifteen percent tip. "I can pay you back." Ziude's hand is on my arm before I can even reach for my wallet. When I look at him, his smile seems just a bit more friendly than it did when the meal first started.
"I've got it covered, hun." My heart melts. I want this wolf, I know I would do anything for this man. Despite the little quirks, the obviously flamboyant nature, even ignoring the fact that he's probably just a flirt and teases with everybody like he did the doberman: it doesn't matter. I will find someway to claim him, no matter what it takes.
"You're going to start a new routine next week," Brutus tells me after i finish off a set of crunches, sweat dripping down my back and soaking into my shirt. I didn't use to sweat, and now thanks to my physical trainer I don't quite feel comfortable exercising if I don't sweat. It feels so much more, well I guess manly is the way to describe it. Like me, a small shrimp, can actually be considered manly. It's laughable, but it makes me smile. "Starting next week, we'll be focusing on two body parts a day, and going four times a week instead of two. So make sure you show up everyday, and no bitching about how it hurts, you got it." The last part is an order, I can tell. When he asks a question he waits for an answer. When it's an order he stops listening to anything I have to say and goes off to do his own thing, which in this case looks like taking a shower.
Ziude comes over and pats me on the head, earning an involuntary wag out of my tail. "You're really getting places now, way to go. So proud of you." With Brutus already in the change room, Ziude gives me a hug right there in the gym before scampering away after his boyfriend. I stand there, stunned by the intimate physical contact. It's nothing much - hell, I get hugs from my friends all the time - but something about it invigorates me. I can take on the world and still have energy left over to go through one of Brutus' training regimes. If this is the feeling of love, than it's not one I ever want to abandon. With my feet lifted off the ground, I float towards the change room, in a euphoric daze.
Perhaps I should have picked a better location, but all my stuff is in the lockers, so there isn't really anywhere else for me to go. What I see in the shower both horrifies and arouses me. Brutus, standing under the shower heads, has his cock buried deep into Ziude's ass, the wolf moaning with pleasure as his rear gets abused by the dominating feline. Nobody else in the showers pays them any mind, and in fact I can see that there's at least one other hard member in the room, attached to a lean and well built lion.
The grunts of the mating couple provide an overpowering din that muffles the sound of casual conversation in the locker room. people go about their daily business, changing in and out of gym clothes, chatting with their workout buddies, unfazed by the casual display of sexuality. I'm at lose - how can you not find such an open display of carnal love surprising? Surely this kind of thing isn't common place. Or perhaps they, like me, are fearful of what might happen if Brutus notices them watching the panther plow his lover.
Water glistens on the black fur, soap bubbles getting brushed aside by the flow from the shower head. Ziude, with his back to the tiled walls and held up by Brutus's meaty paws, humps into the panthers chest, getting pre into those pecs before the water washes it all away down the drain by the feet of that lion, who I notice trying to discretely stroke himself. The other two males in the shower room - a cougar and greyhound - leave after they finish rinsing the shampoo out of their hair, walking off and chatting like they didn't just see anal sex in the facility not three shower heads down from where they were.
The muscles on Brutus' arms ripple as he lifts Ziude up and down, exposing part of the pillar of flesh attached to the panther's groin, the black furred balls slapping against his quads. If I thought Brutus was using steroids, I can now say with certainty that he is not. No male on steroids has balls that large, most of them I hear have shrivelled up sacs since their bodies no longer produce their own testosterone. Brutus' orbs look full enough that they could have enough for two average sized men.
Ziude reaches his orgasm first, yelping as he reaches out to grab on to the panther's shoulders, gripping the mounds and bumps of sinew while his cock fires off cream into Brutus' chest. When a small splattering of it hits on the panther's chin, I watch as Brutus contemptuously turns his head into the spray, gruffing as the semen washes down his neck and off his body. He doesn't lose a moment in his bucking however, and once Ziude is spent, Brutus redoubles his efforts, pumping the wolf up and down with renewed vigour.
I don't have to see those heavy hangers clench upwards to know that Brutus hits his climax. I can hear it echoed in the locker room, bouncing off the tiles, the roar of a man claiming victory. It hurts to listen to, my ears trembling with the noise. Trails of cum leak from Ziude's rump, plopping down to the floor to join with the rest of the washed away spunk. When Brutus finally finishes ejaculating, the two exchange a kiss, the panther's member still inserted up Ziude's ass. I can't watch anymore, my stomach is doing too many flips, my heart racing beyond the speeds it attains when I run for the bus. I think I'm going to be sick. I wish my dick wasn't hard.
Try as I might, I can't seem to exit the locker room fast enough. I don't bother to get changed, just grab my stuff and leave. When I pass the showers again, my curiosity gets the best of me, and I take a quick look inside to see that the pair are going at it again, this time Ziude standing on the floor, his hands against the wall and his back turned so Brutus can easily slide the length of panther meat inside. In that quick look I see that it's massive. I don't stare because Brutus catches me looking. The grin on his face says it all: you'll never be a stud like me, just give up now. I run out from the gym, doing my best not to cry.
When I get home, it's the first time that I don't go straight to masturbating. I'm shaking all over, my hands too unstable to open the door to the fridge to take out the protein drink I had prepared before going to the gym. The more I ponder what I've seen, the worse and worse I began to feel. It's one thing to know that Ziude has a boyfriend already, and an incredibly big one at that. But it's another to actually see the two of them going at it right there, for everybody to marvel upon. I so desperately want to have Ziude to myself, but I can't compete with that massive hunk of panther who has a body that I've been jacking off to for over a month now.
No, I tell myself, my grip on the bottle full of protein drink tightening. I can still do this. I just have to be bigger. I have to be stronger,more impressive. If Ziude really loves the big hulks, then he's going to orgasm at the sight of me when I'm finally done. I'll be the biggest man around, so muscular they'll have to specially design clothes to just barely be able to cover up my body. I'll make heads turn when I walk down the street, carrying Ziude in my arms, taking him where ever he wants to go. And I'll laugh when Brutus gets tossed aside, replaced by the very person he trained.
I won't be a complete jerk, though. I'll thank Brutus for all his help, even as I'm kissing his former boyfriend. Oh how I'll love the irony of him becoming a mewling kitty when he realizes that I'm the one who will steal Ziude away.
Maybe I shouldn't be thinking that far ahead though. I've got a lot of work to do, it'll be years and years before I'm even close to being that large. As I rinse out the bottle of protein in the sink, I decide that I'll actually use the Internet for something other than porn for a change. It's time to do some research, find out what kind of foods I need to eat, how much time I should be spending in the gym. Whatever they say, I'm willing to do it to get the most out of my workouts and get huge fast.
One way or another, Ziude will be starstruck when he sees me once I'm done - the biggest fox around. And then he'll be mine.