Paul woke up groggy and stumbled into the bathroom. As his head spun he reflected that he was getting far too old to spend all night out drinking – he just couldn’t bounce back in the morning anymore. Blearily he stared at his unshaven reflection as he pissed in the vague direction of the toilet. Red rimmed eyes and an unshaven face stared back at him, looking more like his father every day. His greying hair had receded giving him a high forehead and as he looked down his belly stuck out over the rim off his shorts. Yes he was quite a catch – 43 and feeling every day of it.
His miserable ruminations were cut short by the unmistakable feel as he peed over his left foot. Groaning, he hopped around the bathroom, grabbing a towel to dry himself off before flushing and emerging into his bedroom.
Clothes from last night were strewn liberally everywhere, most covered with confetti and small spatters of vomit after last night’s New Years party. Paul ruefully started tidying, groaning slightly as his head ached every time he bent over. Picking up last night’s shirt he grimaced at the aroma of smoke and beer that suffused it and grinned at the sight of the lipstick-covered collar. He might be getting on, but he could still pull … when they were really drunk.
So this was the New Year. As his morning coffee brewed, he went downstairs to the hall to get the paper before remembering that it was New Years Day and none would be delivered. All there was on the doormat was a flyer for a new local gym. Picking it up with the intention of putting it straight in the bin, Paul’s eyes wandered across the flyer:
Feeling rundown? Christmas blues? Overweight?
Join the new programme at FLEX and see changes within 8 weeks or your money back.
Paul snorted at the obviously ridiculous claim and was about to throw the flyer away when his dressing gown slipped open to reveal his belly. Why the hell not, he thought. The contact details were on the flyer, so as he sat eating his toast (healthily covered with butter, jam and clotted cream) he dialled the number. To his surprise they answered … though he did then realise it was already mid-afternoon. The voice at the end of the phone was young and confident and to Paul’s surprise he found himself making an appointment to head into the gym that afternoon.
Two hours later he stood outside the gym, his gym bag thrown over his shoulder. Going in he saw an impressively suave reception area with a tall, muscled youth behind the desk. With a wide smile he greeted Paul and introduced himself as Dave – the guy Paul had spoken to on the phone. He talked Paul through the membership forms and then called through to the gym for someone to show Paul around. The speed with which this was done surprised Paul – he had no chance to think before he had committed to six months gym membership and he was being introduced to Jay, who would run his personal fitness programme.
Jay was like Dave – tall, wide and obviously very fit. He showed Paul around the impressive weights room and the cardio area. Despite it being a Bank Holiday there were 8-10 people already in here and working out. All of them were dressed the same way – black ribbed lycra t-shirts and shorts with the FLEX logo in red on their upper backs. They were also all wearing what looked like black glossed wrestling boots and had MP3 players strapped to their left biceps. All of them were working out with a ferocious intensity – and all of them were men.
Paul asked about the workout gear and Jay explained that FLEX provided all its members with their workout gear. It was part of their ethos, to make sure all members felt part of a team, a unit, a family. They also provided the MP3 player, which was a combination of motivational music and subliminals to improve performance. Taking Paul into the office, he showed him one of the shirts, which had several pads and wires inside the ribbing. These, he told Paul, allowed the FLEX computer to monitor heart rate, blood pressure and stress levels and adjust fitness programmes accordingly. Paul was a bit concerned about wearing such a skin-tight set of kit in public, but Jay eased his fears and pointed out a couple of the guys working out who were in much worse shape than Paul. He also told Paul that he would be provided with gym bag and some protein shakes – although he would have to leave his gym kit at FLEX as the suits needed specialist cleaning.
Paul was really impressed – although the gym wasn’t cheap, he was clearly getting a reasonable deal. He was ready to go, but Jay suggested he have his first session as he was here. He took Paul into the changing room and left him to get ready. Pulling the lycra on felt strange to Paul – and he hated the way it showed his belly up. The glossed boots were even stranger – especially as they were worn without socks, but felt very comfortable. Heading through to the gym, Jay handed him a sports bottle of an isotonic drink and set him going on the treadmill. As he started, Paul saw a hugely muscled man heading through a door that he hadn’t noticed before. Jay explained that he was heading to the Advanced Room – Paul would be allowed in there once he made enough progress.
The time passed remarkably quickly for Paul. What he had intended to be a half hour introduction turned out to be a two-hour session – something he only realised as he turned off the MP3 player after finishing his sets on the Smith Machine. Groaning slightly, he let Jay lead him to the changing rooms, where he showered and changed, putting his used kit in his locker. Jay assured him his gear would be cleaned before he next came in. As he headed out past reception, Dave stopped him and handed him a 24 pack of protein shakes. Paul was surprised – he’d expected 2 or 3 and then to be charged. Dave explained that FLEX would replace them free of charge when he needed more. What a great gym he thought as he headed for his car.
That evening, Paul relaxed in a hot bath with that tired feeling of having had a good workout. He decided not to go back tomorrow – he’d leave it a couple of days and give his muscles a chance to relax. He suspected he would hurt like hell tomorrow. He poured himself one of the protein shakes before dinner and was surprised at how good it tasted. Once it was finished, he started to prepare a meal, but by the time it was ready, he found he wasn’t hungry anymore. Binning the meal, he settled down to watch TV before having an early night.
Next day, he woke up early feeling energised and refreshed. Slugging down a protein shake, he decided to go to the gym after all. Arriving there at 6:30, he found the car park already busy and headed inside. His workout gear was ready for him in his locker and he found himself doing another 2 hour session without really noticing the time passing by. He then had to rush to get to work.
All day at work, he seemed strangely energised. His colleagues were still in the middle of their post-holiday blues and found his energetic and perky approach downright annoying. Blissfully unaware he sailed through the day, stopping only for a protein shake at lunchtime. A couple of the women he usually flirted with came to speak to him, but he casually rebuffed them. That evening, he visited FLEX on the way home for another two hour session, then finished the day with another protein shake and early to bed.
This continued for the next week, with Paul energised and happy. At the end of the week, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Surely he looked thinner already? No – that’s just not possible. And was his chest slightly more solid? No, he must be imagining it. But that’s a step in the right direction he thought as he slugged down the first one from his replacement batch of protein shakes. Damn these things tasted good.
By the end of the second week, it was confirmed – the gym was working. His suits were definitely baggy around the waist and his shirts were tightening around the collar. Paul had to head out to get his suits adjusted, so took them into town on Saturday. They would take two hours to get fixed, so Paul decided to wander around town rather than drive home and back again. As he ambled around, his eye was caught by a shop-sign he hadn’t seen before: “Dante.” The mannequins in the window were wearing various types of leatherwear – jeans he’d seen before, but t-shirts and dress shirts were new to him. Intrigued, he wandered inside.
Normally, Paul wouldn’t be seen dead inside this kind of place, but the gear fascinated him. Inside, he found racks and racks of leather wear ranging from bike jackets to jeans to gloves. Further back, he found more bizarre gear – hoods, straitjackets, harnesses. That stuff definitely was too weird for him, so he turned his attention back to the more normal gear.
A cough behind him alerted him to the presence of an assistant. Turning around, Paul found himself facing a huge young guy – at least 6ft6” tall – who was wearing a leather waistcoat over a skin-tight black t-shirt that showed off his sculpted chest to perfection. On his legs he wore a pair of leather jeans which looked to be sprayed on and his huge feet were in a well glossed pair of bike boots.
“See something you like?” His voice was soft but gravely and the wide smile on his chiselled jaw was matched by a twinkle in his soft eyes. His hair was cut in a short crop and he leant forward to offer Paul his hand. “I’m PJ. First time in here, sir?” Paul stammered out a yes and PJ put his arm around Paul’s shoulders and led him over to the rack of jeans. “Yeah, no problems, sir, I’m here to help you.” Paul was confused and almost overwhelmed by the giant’s presence. He had never felt anything sexually towards a man, and yet PJ was definitely arousing him.
“Well, umm, yeah, I was thinking of … umm …” He stammered to a halt. PJ grinned and took a step away from Paul who almost collapsed with relief. “Tell you what, sir. We’re doing a deal today – free t-shirt if you buy jeans and uniform shirt together – should set you up nicely. What do you say?”
“Yeah, sure, sounds fine.”
Without waiting further, PJ went over to the racks and quickly picked out a pair of leather jeans, a leather t-shirt and a uniform shirt. Paul took a quick look at the labels and protested “no, these will be too small.” PJ just grinned and said “I know what I’m doing, sir, why don’t you just try them on?” Before Paul could answer, PJ steered him across to a small changing room and gently propelled him inside.
Inside, Paul seemed to be on autopilot as he stripped down completely before slipping the leather t-shirt over his head. The soft tight leather slipped down over his chest and stomach, tightly outlining his pecs. As he looked in the mirror, he actually thought that his stomach looked smaller – the t-shirt was certainly flattering. Encouraged, he pulled the leather jeans on. PJ had chosen a skin-tight pair which again showed up Paul’s legs well. Inhaling slightly to do them up, he looked at his now leather covered form and to his surprised felt his cock stir uncomfortably. Adjusting it so that it ran down his left leg, he pulled on the leather uniform shirt. The heavier leather lay on his shoulders like a light jacket as he did up the press-studs at the front and tucked it in. Looking up, he saw a totally different person to the casually dressed person who had walked in. Somehow bigger, more confident the tight leather made him look somehow leaner and more muscled. Grinning, he slipped his shoes on and headed out.
“Now that’s a good look,” said PJ. “Needs some boots though.” He picked up a pair of tall bike boots and offered them to Paul.
With his last vestige of self-control Paul refused “Maybe next time.”
“There’s going to be a next time?” PJ laughed as Paul blushed. “Right, if you want to take them off, I’ll wrap them for you, sir.”
“No need, I’ll wear them home.” PJ raised an eyebrow then grinned. Completing the sale, he handed Paul’s credit card back. “I look forward to your next visit, sir.”
Feeling slightly self-conscious, Paul walked back through the centre of town to pick his suits up. Halfway there, he suddenly realised what he was doing and wondered what the HELL had he done?!? He would never be seen like this, he’s never owned gear like this before. What the hell was he thinking? Confused, he almost ran to his car without collecting his suits and drove home.
Sat at home, he quaffed down a protein shake, which calmed him. Why shouldn’t he wear what made him feel good? If people stared that was their problem, wasn’t it? He laughed to himself, and then got ready to head out to the gym for his second session of the day.
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NOTE: New Year’s Resolution” originally appeared on Eckie’s bondage website. It is being re-posted here with the original author’s permission.
Copyright © 2007 and 2015 by lthr_jock.
All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
This story is erotic gay fiction and is for mature audiences only. It may contain supernatural themes, sex scenes, violence, coarse language, drug use and other adult themes.
Metal would like to thank lthr_jock for granting permission for this story, which has previously appeared on other websites, to be re-posted here.