Sam's Forest Exile - Hanging Sit-Ups (Patreon)

Story for this one was written by my friend abslover123

 Sweat dripped down Sam's cheek, mingling with the tears that leaked from the corner of her tightly shut eyes. Blood pounded in her ears, drowning out the sounds of her laboured breathing. Every inch of her hurt. From her fingertips jammed as tightly as possible into the crevices of the oddly shaped rock, to the soles of her bare feet, raw from her ascent up the scraggly old tree. As her body stretched at the base of her repetition, old scars and fresh wounds called out in unified agony, every fibre of her being begging her to quit.

 Sam was alone. There was no one who would care in the slightest if she simply let the rock tumble to the forest floor, slipped from her perch, and huddled up next to the fire pit she had built for herself. There was no time limit she was facing, no rival that she had to overcome, no record for her to beat. There was no reason to still be putting herself through this torture, day after day and hour after hour.

 Sam tightened her grip in desperation, her calloused palms seeking a better hold of the sweat slicked stone. Her hips bucked and her hamstrings scraped against the knotted wood she clung to. She let out a wordless groan as she crunched, and the shockingly striated slabs of muscle that made up her stomach sharpened into focus.

 Of course she would keep going. Sam wouldn't give up, she wouldn't take the easy path. Her whole life had been nothing but the easy path, a period of comfort, luxury, and utter tedium. She gnashed her teeth, letting out a sound like a wounded animal - something she wouldn't have recognised before her journey in the wilds, hunting for her survival. This was her life now, pushing her body to the limits of endurance, pushing her mind to the limits of determination. It was exhilarating, she had lived more in the past 18 months then she had in the 18 years previous. That was reason enough for her.