Fir Hollow, ch. 14: Fine Print (Patreon)

Mack slammed the phone down, his frustrated grunt echoing throughout the small gym.  “Who the fuck does that guy think he is,” he barked, his powerful arms flexing as he leaned forward on the counter to compose himself.

“Warton again,” Noah asked, rolling his eyes.  The younger man was glad his boss had been closest to the phone.  He’d already gotten an earful from the irate customer the day before.

“That’s ‘Mr. Warton, son’,” Mack said, drawing himself up and tightening his rugged features into a stern, pointed expression in an imitation of the angry man.  “We’re the same age, asshole.  Who the hell are you calling son,” he spat, glaring down at the phone.

Noah shook his head and shrugged, the motion causing his chiseled pecs to bounce beneath his tank-top.  “I’m not tryin’ to tell you how to run the place, boss, but maybe it’d be easier to just let him out of the contract?  I mean, if we’re going to have to deal with this every day…” The athletic blonde trailed off and raised his hands in surrender.

“Hell no,” Mack growled, folding his girder-like arms beneath his shelf of a chest.  His blue eyes blazed defiantly, making the middle-aged hunk look more than ever like a determined coach.  With his short, raven hair, broad shoulders, and strapping, well-built physique it wasn’t a hard image to pull off, especially as he’d surrounded himself with a trio of fit young men to help him run his gym.  All he needed was a polo shirt with a whistle nestled between his plump pecs and a pair of chinos, but as it was, even in his track pants and tight, branded t-shirt he still radiated an intimidating level of authority.  “Small town like this?  I let one guy out and next thing you know word’ll spread and everyone will expect the same treatment.  Might as well just shut down now and call it quits.  It’s not my fault the guy didn’t read his contract.  It’s not like we force anyone to sign ‘em.  Live and learn, sucker.”  Mack rubbed his square jaw before grinning and resting his hands on his hips.  The motion accentuated the way his torso tapered inward, and caused the golden “MAX” written across his chest to distort as the thin black t-shirt stretched like a second skin.  “We tell people right up front - Max is a high end, boutique fitness experience.  This isn’t some dirty rec center.  You want to come work out in a place like this, you’re going to have to pay for it.”

Noah tried to keep his expression neutral.  Looking around the former auto shop, it was hard to think of the small space as “high end.”  Mack had done some basic renovations, and added a pair of scant locker rooms, but the only thing fancy about it was the older man’s branding.  He had t-shirts, water bottles, towels, shorts, and keychains all emblazoned with “MAX” in golden block letters, focusing more on merchandise than on covering the worn brick walls and rusted pipes.  He called it “modern industrial chic”; Noah was inclined to call it a ripoff.  Not that he’d ever do so to Mack’s face.  The athletic young man knew how lucky he was to have a job as a personal trainer in a town like Fir Hollow, where gyms weren’t exactly prevalent.  There actually was a workout room in the rec center, along with The Rack, a rundown lifter’s gym on the edge of town, but that was it.  Most of the folks in the Hollow stayed in shape either through their jobs or by taking advantage of what nature had to offer.  When word got out that Max was opening he’d scrambled to apply, but like the scant clientele, there wasn’t exactly a rush of competition.  He hadn’t been surprised to see Ethan and Levi hired on as well, and Mack made no attempt to hide the fact that their above average looks had been a big part of his decision.  The older man was all about appearances, and his three young trainers ran the gamut.  Noah, with his strawberry blonde hair and boy-next-door face was built like the All-American Jock.  Average height, broad shoulders, tight waist, an ass that was perky without being too large, and enough sculpted muscle to inspire envy without being bulky.  It further helped that his personality was as well-rounded as his perfectly proportional frame.  He pushed his clients with encouragement, not aggression, playing the role of supportive friend and caring mentor.  Size was Levi’s job.  The broad, chiseled wall of muscle had been a regular at The Rack, growing his young body to mammoth proportions.  At 6’2” he was naturally bigger than most, but it was his 270 pounds of shredded muscle that made him truly colossal.   Mack had been upfront in saying that normally he wouldn’t hire someone so big as it didn’t fit his aesthetic, but Levi’s sharp, symmetrical features won him over.  With his short-cropped chocolate hair, the brawny giant had a face that belonged in a magazine and a body that belonged on a competition stage.  Bringing up the rear was Ethan at the other end of the spectrum.  At 5’10” he was the shortest of the group, as well as the thinnest.  His rock climber’s build was lean and defined, made for cardio and flexibility, and the wiry, sandy-haired man taught their spin and yoga classes, a set of appealingly plump cheeks hanging off his whipcord body.  His face was more cute than handsome, complemented by the short, unkempt mop that sat on his scalp.  He balanced the other two out, ensuring that the trio provided something for everyone.

And then there was Mack, with his hairy, rugged build.  Well into his forties, the older man was every bit as fit and chiseled as his staff, despite having two decades on all of them.  He’d come to Fir Hollow to open the gym after leaving his corporate job in the city, though he was always scant when providing details as to what made him leave.  Based on what they’d seen so far, none of the guys thought it was anything good.  Mack was both strikingly handsome and charming, though the longer they were around him the more the group began to see through the polished veneer.  Despite projecting the image of neighborly coach, the trio who worked for him had no doubt Mack was nothing but a con man at heart.

Not that they were about to argue with how he ran his gym, or the specifics of the aggressive contracts he talked people into signing.  The pay was good and business was relatively slow, leaving them with plenty of time to continue working on their own superior bodies.  Mack had even made it clear when hiring them that it was part of the expected job duties.  Hot bodies brought in customers, either as eye candy or motivation, and if those customers didn’t come back too often that just made the older man’s life easier.  They’d already agreed to automatic deposits each month and he had their money whether they showed up or not.  As far as he was concerned the latter was the preferable option.

The older man nodded again as he watched Ethan and Levi wiping down equipment and setting up for the day.  “Besides,” he continued, his eyes narrowing, “there are other ways to make Warton go away.  He was just ranting about how he’s going to make sure he gets his money’s worth ‘and then some’, so I say we give it to him.  Let’s ride him hard when he comes in.  Scrawny guy like that’ll break in no time.  I’ll see to it myself.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Noah shrugged, shaking his head.  He felt a sudden rush of deja vu, but it passed as quickly as it came.  “Warton aside, we busy today?”

Mack looked down at the schedule on the counter, thinking for a moment that the words were odd.  Phrases like “the works” and “just watching” next to the client names felt out of place, though he couldn’t say why, exactly.  “Not too bad.  Ethan’s got Ted coming in, Levi’s got Jack, and you’ve got Lee.  If Warton shows up I’ll deal with him, so at least one of you should be able to stay out on the floor to deal with the walk-ins.”  He looked up at the clock and nodded towards the back of the gym.  “Come on, let’s go get into uniform.”

Noah followed along, but as they joined up with Ethan and Levi he had no idea what they were doing.  Other than a “MAX” branded shirt and gym gear, which they were already wearing, there wasn’t a uniform.  There also shouldn’t have been a door marked “Private” where the women’s locker room once stood.

“Uh...where’d the ladies’ locker room go,” Levi asked.  The towering wall of muscled seemed just as confused as everyone else as to what they were doing and where they were going.

“What are you talking about?  It’s…” Mack trailed off as he pushed through the door.  Instead of stepping into an open room lined with lockers, there was a small vestibule with a trio of exits.  The ones to their immediate left and right were marked with “A” and “B” respectively, while the one directly ahead simply read “Staff Only.”  The group paused, all of them opening their mouths to speak but none of them able to find the words.  “...it’s not like we’d need one.  Men only, you know that.”

“Right, right...duh…” Levi said, shaking his head.  He looked over at his two companions as they trailed behind Mack.  Ethan and Noah just shrugged, all of them thinking that it didn’t sound right, but it felt that way.  They had a similar sensation when they stepped into the Staff Lounge and looked around at the small wall of lockers, open shower, and smattering of furniture.  They all knew, Mack included, that they’d never seen it before, and yet it was all intimately familiar.  Without giving it a second thought they each stepped up to a locker that they somehow knew was theirs, moving with the kind of instinctual muscle memory that only came from frequent repetition.

“Whoa...guys...what are we doing…” Ethan finally stammered when they all began stripping down.  The shorter man felt a rush of embarrassment as he shucked his t-shirt and dropped his shorts and underwear in one motion, his long cock and plump cheeks bouncing as he kicked them free.  The others all had the same wide-eyed expression even as they casually disrobed, and though they’d all seen each other in the showers at some point, none of them felt like they should be as familiar with each other’s naked bodies as they were.  Mack was the one they’d seen the least of, yet the sight of the older man’s naked muscle, with its light coating of dark fur, struck them as entirely commonplace.  Nothing about the older stud’s fat cock swaying out in the open felt remotely out of the ordinary.

“What?  We’re just getting dressed for the day,” Noah said, surprising even himself by both what he said and the casual manner with which he spoke.  “Not like we can wear our regular clothes.  Kinda defeats the purpose, right?”

Mack put his arms out and leaned against his locker, his broad upper back flexing with the motion.  He turned it into a stretch, his solid, ample cheeks inflating as he first bent one leg, then the other before righting himself.  There was a discordant voice in his head screaming at him that this was all wrong, but it was coming through in static bursts, like a broken radio signal.  “Man...we’re all off our game this morning,” he finally said, absently reaching down to heft his meaty package.  He gave the girthy log a few quick tugs, not thinking about it until after the fact, and pulled a black jockstrap from his locker.  The thick waistband had “MAX” written in hot-pink letters, along with a capital “M” on the pouch that bulged forward as it struggled to contain the older man’s sizable equipment.  He followed it up with a mesh crop-top of the same neon pink that was cut like a jersey and stopped just below his shelf of a chest.  In matching font “BOSS” was written across the front, while “BTTM” was scrawled across the back.

The others would have gawked if they weren’t busy putting on similar outfits.  Noah slipped into a pair of cobalt blue bikini briefs, with “MAX” stretching across the back in gold letters, but while they left him more covered than Mack’s exposed rear, the young jock was mortified when he didn’t put anything else on.  He thought he was reaching for a shirt when he turned back to his locker, but all he pulled out was a small name tag that he clipped to the thin elastic waistband above his thigh.  The placement would only draw further attention to his stuffed pouch and exposed state, an idea Noah dreaded even as he remembered that it was just a regular part of his job.  His perfect physique was meant to be seen, touched and experienced, and though none of those thoughts made sense at the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to think of them as wrong.

Levi didn’t fare any better.  A look of pure terror flashed across the chiseled giant’s face as he slipped into a gold poser.  The young bodybuilder was always self-conscious at the way his average endowment looked small against his excessive bulk, and that size discrepancy was now prominently displayed by the bright metallic pouch.  The back left most of Levi’s granite globes on display, and any hopes that a shirt might help obscure things were quickly dashed when he pulled out a tattered top meant to accentuate his plentiful muscle more than obscure it.  At one time the shredded cotton had been a standard MAX t-shirt but had since been significantly altered.  The sleeves were gone, the bottom half had been cut off, and the neck had been removed.  Coupled with the shiny gold poser, Levi was left hovering somewhere between Mall Punk and Flashdance.

It was Ethan who had it the worst.  Or at least they would have thought that if any of them could have still viewed things from their former perspective.  An inverse of the towering bodybuilder, Ethan’s short, wiry frame made his long, thick hose seem absolutely massive.  The same went for his gravity-defying rear, and his outfit made it clear that both features were selling points to be prominently displayed.  The short, sandy-headed man hesitated as he pulled a purple sleeve out of his locker, giving the rest of the group a brief, frantic look before slipping the thin fabric over his dangling hose and heavy balls.  Like the rest of the group, “MAX” was written in neon-green, vertical text, stretching down from the top of the sleeve as it rested at the base of the lean man’s cock.  Other than his sneakers it was all he wore, and Ethan wished he could give voice to his confused horror as his purple package bounced and swayed wildly.

It was a wish shared by all as they casually strolled back out onto the floor in their revealing outfits, if the skimpy garments could even be called that.  Even though his body acted as if the warm air on his bare, shifting cheeks was perfectly natural, that static warning in Mack’s brain was punching through with greater frequency.  On some level the middle-aged stud knew that something was very wrong, but simply having the thought left him second guessing himself.  Every time he started to question what was happening another, louder, voice chimed in, telling him he was just being ridiculous.  Watching the brief flashes of panic play across the faces of his staff, Mack guessed the athletic young trio was having a similar experience.

As they opened for the day and customers started filtering in, it all felt so impossibly, terribly mundane.  Passing time until his appointment showed up, Levi helped the men at the weights like always, not giving their lingering eyes or groping hands a second thought.  When one of the customers he was spotting at the squat rack purposely pressed back with their ass he returned the gesture, thrusting his hips forward to grind his smallish pouch into their shorts.  And when Jack finally arrived for their one-on-one session, the sculpted stud led the older, heavyset man back into one of the private rooms without hesitating.  He didn’t even need to ask what Jack was there for.  As soon as they entered the small studio, Levi walked over to the weights and started lifting, not giving it a second thought when his client unzipped his jeans and pulled his twitching cock free.  Levi knew Jack wasn’t there to work out, but to watch him do so.  The handsome hulk would pause every few sets to flex and tease, groping his muscle while gradually removing what little he wore.  Instead of being embarrassed as he knew he should be, Levi felt a swell of pride at the pure, unfiltered lust in the dumpy man’s eyes.  By the time he was finishing his workout - sweaty, naked and hard - the young jock looked forward to what was coming.   As he stepped into the shower and began jerking himself off, Jack’s quiet whimpers were music to his ears.  He even locked eyes with the older man as they both reached the point of climax, their shared moans a sign of a job well done.  He loved every second of it.  He loved men of all kinds, enjoying the ones who just wanted to appreciate him as much as he did the ones who actually showed up to reshape their bodies.  It wasn’t his job to judge but to please his clients, and the chiseled Adonis was very good at what he did.

They all were.  Ethan’s plump, permanently bouncing cheeks were a constant crowd pleaser, as was the stuffed sock that swayed like a pendulum while he trotted around the gym.  Whenever the lean young man guided someone through a stretching routine he felt like he should have been mortified at flashing his tight hole to the entire room, but as the day wore on, Ethan found himself enjoying the sensation, and the attention, more and more.  Whenever his dangling cock would start to twitch and harden he wouldn’t even think of trying to cover himself, instead letting the rigid club pull him along like a dowsing rod to any of the many men who needed help, or who seemed to be paying him extra attention.  The gym was bustling, but Ethan wasn’t surprised by that.  With the kinds of services they offered, men came from all over the valley and surrounding cities just to see them.  His appointment, Ted, was one of those commuters.  The fit thirty-something made the drive down from Pikesburg just for their special yoga sessions.  As with Levi, Ethan somehow knew exactly what he was doing as he led the older man back into one of the studies, whipped his sock off, and eagerly watched Ted strip down.  Once they were both naked he actually did guide the other man through a yoga routine, but he spent the second half of their hour together with his aching pole buried deep between his client’s firm little cheeks.  The voice that kept trying to insist something was wrong had quieted by the time they were done, and as he cleaned up and slipped his sock back into place Ethan could only think about how lucky he was to have landed such a cake job.

Noah’s doubts had fled just as quickly.  When they’d first opened the doors the striking stud had been a bundle of nerves, but after a few hours of strutting around the crowded gym with his body on display, the young jock was actually dreading the thought of putting his clothes back on.  He worked hard to keep himself looking the way he did, and he wanted to show off the fruits of that labor.  When he wasn’t helping someone out he spent his time jogging on one of the treadmills, his chiseled pecs and stuffed bulge bouncing in equal measure, or by going through a bodyweight circuit to keep his pumped muscles primed.  He wanted to look good for Lee, loving the expression of adoration on his client’s face whenever the older man walked through the doors and saw him.  Well into his fifties, the rugged miner could work Noah over like no one else, and the scantily-clad trainer looked forward to it just as much as his client.  He’d bounce up and down, blurting out words of encouragement while he was brought to the brink again and again.  Lee’s cock felt so good splitting him open that he’d have done it for free if Mack would have let him, and that day especially was like starting all over.  Though he knew they’d been together often, Noah gasped and writhed like it was their first time, clutching at Lee’s meaty chest while he squirmed on the older man’s broad lap.  He knew his ecstatic cries could be heard echoing out of the small studio and onto the floor, but that was just an added bonus for everyone else, an advertisement for what they too could experience if they were willing to pay.

Mack watched the confusing day unfold, torn between feeling thrilled that his gym was so busy, and uneasy at the ever-present thought that something was terribly wrong.  He couldn’t shake the sensation that he was forgetting something, and he kept having flashes of panic whenever he’d catch sight of his reflection or feel a client’s hand on one of his furry cheeks.  His guys were doing a great job of keeping everyone entertained, but as he watched their exposed bodies strutting through the sweaty crowd, those same flashes of panic would light him up all over again.  If it didn’t sound so crazy, the middle-aged hunk would have sworn that the whole world had changed around him.

The feeling that he was forgetting something only grew stronger when Warton showed up.  The other man was his same age, and also had a head of jet-black hair, but where Mack was broad and brawny, Warton was tight and angular.  His features were handsome in a severe way, another contrast to Mack’s lantern-jawed, All-American looks.  The two were like opposite sides of the same coin, and as he watched his client approach, the confused hunk felt the pouch of his stuffed jock begin to twitch and bounce.  “Right on time,” Mack said, wondering why his cheerful tone should have surprised him.  Looking at Warton’s bony shoulders spilling out of his tank-top, and the spindly legs slipping out of his small shorts, he was equally surprised that the sight was such a turn on.

“I certainly wouldn’t want to waste a minute of our time together,” Warton purred.  “You know how much I look forward to these sessions.”

“That makes two of us,” Mack said, trotting out from behind the counter.  He watched Warton’s eyes drop to his semi-hard bulge, a shiver running through him at the thought of what was coming.  It was enough to make him pause, and Mack wondered again if he should really be so excited at the idea of another man inside him.

“Are you okay?  You seem a little out of it,” Warton asked, his hand resting on the small of Mack’s back.

The brawny man nodded and smiled, loving when Warton gave the elastic of his jock a quick tug, letting it snap loudly back into place.  “Just one of those days.  I keep feeling like I’m forgetting something important.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Warton shrugged, his narrow face split by a predatory smile.  “I know it’s not what we usually do, but would it be okay if we did our workout here on the floor and then finished in the studio?  I’m feeling like a bit of an exhibitionist today.”

“It’s your session,” Mack said, the other man’s odd smile bringing back his sense of dread.  As he pushed Warton through his workout, he didn’t understand why his client seemed so happy about the fact that people kept watching him.  Nor did he understand why Warton kept asking for demonstrations of exercises he knew how to do, unless it was just to get a view of his beefy frame going through the motions.  The thin man could have seen more back in the studio, but he seemed to want everyone to share in their time together.

That suspicion was confirmed when Mack asked if he was ready to head back to one of the private rooms.  Warton leaned in close, his voice purring in the other man’s ear.  “I’ll give you another hundred if we can do it right here on the floor.  I know it’s usually against the rules, but we can be discreet.  You’re already dressed for it, after all,” he laughed, slipping a few bony fingers into the front of Mack’s jock.

The hairy hunk gasped, his eyes darting around the room to see how many people were watching.  He hesitated, but for what felt like the wrong reasons.  They had a rule against open fucking on the gym floor, but money was money, and he felt like he needed to make something up to Warton.  Though the other man hadn’t said anything, Mack couldn’t shake the feeling that he was mad at him.  He just didn’t know why.  “This can’t be a regular thing, but I don’t see the harm,” Mack finally said, nodding over at an unoccupied bench in the corner.  He pulled Warton along and pushed the other man down, waiting for him to reach into his shorts and fish his cock free.  “I make the rules...I can be the one to break them,” he grinned, biting down on a loud groan when he lowered himself onto the waiting pole.

He gave a quiet grunt instead, his eyes going wide as he watched his reflection in the mirrored wall.  Behind them, he could see a growing number of men pausing their workouts to watch him bounce up and down on Warton’s lap.  The idea that the entire room was watching him get fucked, including his young staff, was a strange turn on.  His meaty thighs burned and his chiseled pecs bounced as he bobbed and popped his hips, his own fat log finally worming out through the top of the jock.  Warton’s skeletal hands were glued to his waist, guiding him along while the thinner man’s eyes blazed triumphantly.  Something about his client’s expression was unsettling as he watched it leering behind him in the mirror, but all Mack could focus on was maintaining control.  Regardless of his confusion, Warton’s cock was driving him wild.  He wanted to buck and spasm and howl, not quietly grunt and whimper.

One of those bellowing moans managed to escape when Warton let go of his waist and reached around to grip his churning balls, the sensation finally pushing him over the edge.  Mack heard his cry echo around the now-silent gym as he blasted all over his hairy abs and the underside of his pecs, watching the entire, staring crowd in the mirror.  It felt like they’d all just fucked him, though Mack wasn’t sure why he loved that idea so much.  Warton blew a few moments later, and as the other man’s warm fluid spilled out of him, the impaled hunk knew without a doubt that something impossible had happened.  The insanity of it all came crashing down on top of him, and Mack could almost grab onto the knowledge in full, but it slipped between his fingers as Warton’s cock slipped out of him.  He blinked and gasped, cum running down his chest and thighs in equal measure, his face burning at the thought of how many people just witnessed his ecstasy.

“Just put that hundred on my bill next month,” Warton said, stuffing himself away.  He kissed the side of Mack’s neck, gave the softening pouch of the jock a squeeze, and left the gasping hunk alone on the bench.  Mack caught his breath, the men in the mirror gradually losing interest and returning to their workouts.  His guys did a good job of pulling the room’s attention so their boss could collect himself, and he made a mental note to reward each of them for that with a blowjob later.

At the same time, he was already running the numbers in his head.  Warton may have been on to something.  He could get some dedicated benches or other equipment and add a “public session” to their list of offered services.  He could even raise everyone else’s rates to account for the free shows they’d be getting.  It could be a massive moneymaker.  Mack was sure that some of their clients wouldn’t be happy about the higher prices, but that was just too bad.  It said in their contracts that rates and services could be amended at any time, and if they didn’t like it, they’d just have to learn to read the fine print.